A/N: Sorry for the long delay had exams and a new semester starting up I hope to update the story more frequently and yes I do intend to finish it, I already have the general premise of how I want to end the story. Thanks for all the follows, favs, reviews.
Code Geass: Absolute Obedience
Chapter 3: The Black Prince
Aries Villa – Pendragon
Two weeks had passed since the failure of the Black Rebellion, and Lelouch found himself in the last place he ever expected to be—his old room in Aries Villa. The familiar space was a relic of a past life he had long since left behind, yet now it served as the staging ground for his and Nunnally's reinstatement as imperial heirs.
Returning to the den of vipers that was the imperial court was a bitter pill to swallow. Lelouch loathed the thought of immersing himself in the treacherous games of Britannia's elite, especially dragging Nunnally into their grasp. Yet, after the events of the rebellion, he had little choice. Nunnally's existence was no longer a secret; her very name had become a tool of leverage in the imperial family's hands. Staying close to her was his only option.
Still, Lelouch would be lying if he claimed there wasn't some small satisfaction in his return. The luxuries afforded to a royal prince were incomparable. His life at Ashford Academy had been comfortable—elite, even—but the opulence of Aries Villa was on an entirely different level. Silken sheets, gourmet meals, and servants ready to meet his every need reminded him of the privileges he had once taken for granted.
Yet, none of it could erase the weight pressing down on him. Guilt gnawed at the edges of his mind, chipping away at any sense of peace. The failure of the rebellion, Euphemia's death, the countless lives lost—all of it haunted him. He could indulge in fleeting moments of luxury, but the shadow of his actions loomed large, always watching.
As he prepared for the ceremony, Lelouch adjusted the cuffs of his new royal attire. It was a striking ensemble: a crisp white undershirt beneath a regal purple vest, topped with an ornate black coat adorned with silver accents. As he caught his reflection in the mirror, he allowed himself a fleeting moment of satisfaction. The outfit was reminiscent of his Zero costume, almost as if the royal version of that persona had come to life.
Leaving his room, he was met by Villetta Nu, standing tall in her freshly tailored captain's uniform. Officially, she was the captain of his personal guard. Unofficially, she was the chief of his new secret intelligence agency, the White Knights.
"The new security system for the villa is fully online," Villetta reported, her tone brisk and professional. "I've also brought the reports you requested." She handed him a small device.
"Good," Lelouch said, taking the device and plugging it into his personal datapad. The screen lit up, displaying the detailed analyses Villetta had compiled. As he scanned through the files, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Villetta had more than exceeded his expectations.
Though she had been hesitant in her first days on the job, she had quickly acclimated to her new role. Now, she operated with precision and efficiency, excelling as both captain of his guard and head of the White Knights.
Villetta's achievements spoke for themselves. She had meticulously analyzed every potential vulnerability in the villa, vetted security officers from a pool of thousands, and implemented cutting-edge automated defenses. Lelouch allowed her near-unlimited resources to complete the task, and she had wielded them masterfully.
Though Lelouch now had access to the vast resources of the Britannian Empire, he had been careful not to draw too much attention. Excessive use of those assets could jeopardize his plans, and discretion was paramount. But when it came to Nunnally's safety, no expense was too great.
His jaw tightened at the thought of her capture at Ashford. The memory still burned in his mind—a searing reminder of his failure to protect her. Never again. Even if it cost him his life, Lelouch would ensure Nunnally's safety. He would build a fortress around her if he had to, a shield no one could penetrate.
"You've done well, Villetta," Lelouch said, his tone genuine. "The villa's security is flawless. If anyone attempts to breach it, they'll regret it."
Villetta nodded, her expression calm but her chest swelling with a quiet sense of accomplishment. "I'll continue to monitor for potential threats. You'll have my next report within the hour."
"Excellent," Lelouch replied, his gaze briefly softening. "Your work is appreciated."
As Villetta turned to leave, Lelouch glanced at his reflection once more. The Black Prince stared back at him, his regal attire gleaming under the villa's golden light. This was his new reality—a prince on the surface, a revolutionary in the shadows.
They don't know what's coming, he thought, his eyes narrowing. Not the Emperor. Not Schneizel. Not anyone. But they will.
Throne Room – Imperial Palace
Pendragon
It was the third time Lelouch had stood in this room, beneath the towering figure of the Emperor. But unlike the last two occasions, he wasn't filled with rage or desperation. Now, he was calm, composed, and utterly in control—at least on the inside.
The first time he had stood here, it was as a boy, fuelled by grief and fury after the assassination of his mother and the crippling injuries inflicted on his sister. He had demanded justice, only to be met with cold indifference. That moment of defiance had cost him everything—his claim to the throne, his status, and his home. The Emperor had cast him aside like a broken toy, sending him and Nunnally into exile in Japan.
But today was different. Today, he returned not as that helpless boy but as the man who was going destroy Britannia and everything it stood for.
As Lelouch pushed Nunnally's wheelchair down the center aisle of the throne room, he felt the weight of countless eyes upon them. Nobles and royals lined the grand hall, their whispered words floating through the air like venomous smoke.
"So they lived. That's a shame."
"The spawn of that commoner dare return? I hoped he would've learned his lesson after last time."
"I pray the Emperor orders their execution. The royal bloodline must not be sullied by such filth."
"The girl should have died in Japan. At least then, we'd be rid of her pathetic sob story."
Lelouch's amethyst eyes flicked toward the source of the voices but only for a moment. Years ago, such words would have enraged him, but now they were little more than the buzzing of insects. These same nobles had cheered his mother's death, celebrated Nunnally's suffering, and applauded his exile. Their opinions meant nothing. They were beneath him now, not even worth the effort of his disdain.
Reaching the foot of the throne, Lelouch maneuvered Nunnally's wheelchair into place before stepping to her side. He bowed low, kneeling with deliberate precision, every movement exuding calm submission.
"Your Majesty," Lelouch addressed the Emperor, his voice steady and tinged with a subtle smirk.
The Emperor's gaze bore down upon him, cold and unyielding. "I see you have returned," Charles proclaimed, his voice reverberating through the cavernous hall. "Have you seen the error of your ways? Have you realized you are nothing more than tools for me and the Empire—insignificant pawns to be used as I see fit?"
Lelouch kept his expression neutral, though inside he relished the irony. "Yes, Your Majesty," he replied, bowing his head in feigned deference. "I apologize for my actions eight years ago. I now know my place as a prince beneath you."
Uttering those words would have broken him once, but now they were just another part of his performance.
The Emperor's cold eyes shifted to Nunnally, and even without sight, she could feel the oppressive weight of his gaze. The room fell silent, the court's collective breath held in anticipation. Nunnally froze, the hostile environment suffocating her.
Lelouch's hand found hers, squeezing gently—a silent reminder that she wasn't alone. Gathering her courage, she spoke, her voice trembling but audible. "I… I also apologize, Your Majesty."
They had rehearsed this moment for days, but under the Emperor's imposing presence, the words still felt like stones in her throat.
Charles's lips curled into an amused smirk, his laughter rumbling through the room. "Perhaps I still have use for the two of you after all," he said, his tone dripping with condescension. "Lelouch vi Britannia and Nunnally vi Britannia, I hereby restore you as heirs to the throne."
The declaration sent shockwaves through the court. The once-muted whispers erupted into a cacophony of murmurs and gasps.
"Restored? Have they lost their minds?"
"What is His Majesty thinking? This is an insult to the royal family!"
"Those wretches don't deserve such mercy."
"First a commoner for a mother, now a blind cripple for a princess. The throne is becoming a joke."
The noise swelled, but Lelouch remained composed, his smirk returning as he lowered his head slightly. Fools, he thought. You're too blind to see what's right in front of you. The throne you worship is already mine.
The Emperor raised his hand, and the hall fell silent once more. His voice rang out, sharp and commanding. "Know this: their reinstatement is not an act of forgiveness, but one of necessity. They will serve the Empire as I see fit. Should they falter or disappoint me again, their punishment will be swift and severe."
Lelouch bowed his head deeper. "Of course, Your Majesty. We exist only to serve."
Charles's piercing gaze lingered on Lelouch for a moment longer, as if searching for a crack in his facade. Finding none, the Emperor leaned back in his throne. "See that you remember your place."
With that, the audience was dismissed, and the nobles began filing out of the throne room, their hushed conversations carrying on as they moved.
As Lelouch rose to his feet and moved to push Nunnally's wheelchair, he felt her hand squeeze his again. He glanced down to see her trembling slightly, her face pale.
"You did well, Nunnally," Lelouch whispered, his voice soft and reassuring.
"Thank you, Big Brother," she murmured. "But… is this really okay? Are we safe here?"
Lelouch's eyes hardened, his voice dropping to a whisper. "No one is safe here, Nunnally. But I will protect you. I promise."
As they exited the throne room, Lelouch's smirk returned, his mind already calculating his next move.
Imperial Ballroom – Imperial Palace
Pendragon
The grand imperial ballroom was awash in opulence, its gilded ceilings reflecting the light of countless crystal chandeliers. Nobles and royals from across Britannia filled the room, their laughter and conversation blending into a low hum of intrigue and ambition. Tonight, they had gathered to witness the public reinstatement of Lelouch and Nunnally vi Britannia as heirs to the throne.
For Lelouch, this event was a stage, another carefully orchestrated act in the theater of power. Clad in his regal black and gold attire, he stood beside Nunnally's wheelchair, exuding calm authority. Yet his sharp eyes missed nothing, darting across the room to observe every glance, every whispered word.
Among the crowd were the Emperor's personal knights, the Knights of the Round. Their presence was both a reminder and a warning. Bismarck Waldstein, the Knight of One, stood near the Emperor's dais, his towering frame and piercing gaze unmistakable. Lelouch knew better than to test his Geass in such a volatile environment. Bismarck's ability to see the future made him a dangerous opponent, and Lelouch had no intention of drawing unnecessary attention from VV or anyone else.
For now, the nobles and royals were beneath his notice. Their sycophantic attempts to curry favor were predictable and uninspired. The only people worth his attention—Schneizel and Cornelia—were absent. Schneizel was away on a diplomatic mission, and Cornelia had gone missing after the Black Rebellion. Both would need to be dealt with in time, either through manipulation or elimination.
Throughout the evening, noble after noble approached Lelouch and Nunnally, each armed with flattery and thinly veiled agendas. Their disdain for Lelouch's commoner lineage was palpable, yet they knew that aligning themselves with a royal could elevate their standing. Lelouch, however, deftly guided every conversation, ensuring neither he nor Nunnally was drawn into their schemes.
An uncomfortable number of nobles also offered their daughters as suitors for Lelouch, their propositions as transparent as they were distasteful. Lelouch politely declined each offer, his refusal firm but diplomatic. When one particularly brazen duke suggested his 23-year-old son marry Nunnally, Lelouch's sharp glare alone was enough to silence further suggestions.
Among his siblings, only Odysseus made an effort to speak with him. His other half-sisters, Carine and Guinevere, spent the night glaring daggers at him and Nunnally from across the room. Their hostility was expected, but it stirred thoughts that troubled Lelouch.
Clovis, Euphemia, Cornelia, Schneizel… Lelouch's mind drifted to his siblings. Growing up, they were the only ones Nunnally and I were close to. Now, two of them are dead by my hand, and the others will likely share the same fate—or worse—for my plans to succeed.
The weight of his actions pressed against him, unrelenting. In Shinjuku, he had resolved to walk the path of blood, to destroy Britannia and its evils. Yet, standing here, so close to his goals, all he could think about were his failures—the lives lost, the people he had betrayed, and the family he had shattered.
A small voice interrupted his thoughts. "Umm… H-Hello," it stammered.
Lelouch looked down to see a young girl about Nunnally's age. Her timid expression and wide eyes sparked a faint recognition. He offered her a warm smile, masking his inner turmoil.
"You look familiar," Lelouch said gently. "What's your name?"
"I… I am Lila la Britannia," the girl replied nervously. "We met when I was very young."
Before Lelouch could respond, Nunnally's soft voice chimed in. "I remember you! You used to play with me and Euphie when Lelouch and Clovis were busy with… whatever they did when they got together."
Lila's expression grew solemn as she turned to Nunnally. "You… you were in Area 11, right? Did you meet Brother Clovis?"
Nunnally's smile faltered, her own expression growing serious. She could see the sadness etched into Lila's features. "I never met him personally," Nunnally said softly. "But he was always on the news. I did see some of his paintings in the museum—they were wonderful."
Lila's eyes welled with tears. "I'm so happy I can see both of you again. After Clovis and Euphie… I've been so alone…" Her voice broke, and before she could continue, Lelouch placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Lila," Lelouch said, his voice gentle. "I know Clovis was an amazing brother." The memory of the massacre in Shinjuku flashed through his mind, but he pushed it aside. One more lie, he thought. If it brings her comfort, it's worth it.
Lila's tears flowed freely now. "The last time I saw him, we fought. I can't even apologize now. I… I'm all alone…"
"You're not alone," Lelouch said firmly, his grip on her shoulder tightening slightly. "I'm sure Clovis wasn't upset with you. And Nunnally would love to spend time with someone her age."
Nunnally smiled brightly, her warmth cutting through the tension. "I would love that," she said.
Lilia managed a weak smile, her tears slowing.
Odysseus approached the group with his usual easy demeanor. "Good to see you, Lila. I haven't seen you since…" He stopped himself, realizing his next words might upset her. "It's great to see you and Nunnally getting along. I haven't seen you like this with most of our other sisters."
"That's because they're all mean and rude," Lilia said with a snort, earning a chuckle from Odysseus.
"Anyway," Odysseus said, turning to Lelouch and Nunnally, "the two of you need to prepare for your official announcement on national news. It's time to make your return public."
Lelouch escorted Nunnally to the center of the grand ballroom, where the stage was set for the announcement of their return. The gilded chandeliers above cast a golden glow, and imperial banners draped along the walls bore the Britannian crest, a symbol of unyielding power. Nobles and royals filled the room, their whispers falling silent as the Emperor raised his hand.
The cameras focused on Charles zi Britannia, his towering presence commanding absolute attention. His voice boomed, each word imbued with authority and finality.
"Citizens of Britannia," he began, "Today marks the return of two heirs who embody the strength, resilience, and unity of our great Empire. My son, Lelouch vi Britannia, and my daughter, Nunnally vi Britannia, stand before you as testaments to the will of the royal bloodline."
He paused, letting his gaze sweep the room before continuing. "All men… are NOT created equal! This is the truth that underpins Britannia's greatness, a truth that extends even to those who share my blood. My son and daughter standing before you are proof of this principle. While Clovis and Euphemia—blessed with the power of the Empire—fell to Zero's machinations, Lelouch vi Britannia survived the Second Pacific War at the age of ten while protecting his sister. He survived the Black Rebellion, evading the Black Knights themselves."
The Emperor's remarks struck like daggers, forcing both Lelouch and Nunnally to suppress their reactions. I instructed him to frame this for legitimacy with the aristocracy, but I should have known he'd twist the knife.
Charles gestured grandly toward his children before stepping aside. "Now, they will address you, the people of Britannia."
Lelouch pushed Nunnally forward gently, positioning her at the center of the stage. He could see the discomfort etched on her face after their fathers' remarks about their siblings. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, shielding her from the weight of the moment.
"My fellow Britannians," he began, his voice calm yet resonant, carrying a commanding presence. "Eight years ago, my sister and I made the difficult decision to step away from the palace and the privileges of royalty. We chose to live among the people, to understand their lives, their struggles, and their dreams. While our absence may have been misunderstood, it was always with Britannia's future in mind."
He paused, letting his words settle. The room hung on his every word as the cameras broadcast his image across the Empire.
"We have seen the strength of Britannia's people firsthand," Lelouch continued, his voice gaining strength. "And contrary to what one might think, strength does not lie solely in the ability to dominate others. The greatest strength is found in compassion—in the courage to put the needs of others above oneself. The strongest among us are those who, despite their position, use their power to lift others up."
He turned slightly, his gaze sweeping across the audience before fixing on the camera lens. "As heirs to the throne, my sister and I are committed to serving all inhabitants of the Empire. We will dedicate ourselves to ensuring Britannia's strength is not merely measured in conquest but in the well-being of all under its rule."
The word "inhabitants" was chosen deliberately, a subtle yet pointed divergence from the Empire's philosophy as it included both citizens and numbers. Lelouch didn't need to glance at his father to feel the weight of his disapproval, but he pressed on, undeterred.
The applause that followed was thunderous, though not unanimous. Among the nobles, some clapped with genuine admiration, while others whispered with veiled suspicion.
"Does he think compassion has a place in Britannia?"
"Typical sentimentality from Marianne's children."
"Still… he speaks with the air of a true prince."
Across the Empire, millions watched, their reactions divided. Some felt inspired by Lelouch's vision of strength through unity, while others dismissed it as empty rhetoric.
As the applause subsided, Lelouch stepped back, placing a reassuring hand on Nunnally's shoulder. She smiled at him, grateful for his support, but her hands trembled slightly in her lap.
Charles stepped forward once more, his gaze piercing. "Lelouch vi Britannia and Nunnally vi Britannia, welcome back to the heart of the Empire. Serve well, and you will bring glory to the throne. Fail, and your punishment will be swift and absolute."
Lelouch knelt slightly, bowing his head in feigned submission. "We will serve with unwavering dedication, Your Majesty."
The crowd erupted once more, the Emperor raising his hand to dismiss the event. Lelouch wheeled Nunnally away from the stage, his expression calm and measured.
Ashford Academy Clubhouse
Tokyo Settlement – Area 11
The last three members of the student council sat quietly in the once-lively clubhouse, a shadow of its former self. The grand announcement from the Emperor was to be broadcast live in the auditorium, but none of them felt inclined to attend. Despite Ashford Academy being spared most of the destruction during the Black Rebellion—reportedly with no casualties—the weight of recent events had left the council feeling hollow.
The rebellion had torn apart more than just the city. It had shattered their circle of friends. They had learned the shocking truth about Kallen during the chaos when she revealed her identity to stop some Black Knights from harassing them. Kallen, their meek sickly vice president, was a member of the rebellion's vanguard. Despite this revelation, the remaining council members had made an unspoken pact not to report her to the authorities. All of them clung to the hope that once the rebellion ended, Kallen would return, and things would somehow go back to normal. But Kallen never came back.
Then there was Lelouch and Nunnally. Both siblings, along with their maid Sayako, had vanished after the rebellion. Milly had exhausted every means at her disposal to find them, calling every connection she could think of, but her efforts yielded nothing. The absence of the siblings left a void that none of them knew how to fill.
Nina's breakdown with the Ganymede was another blow. Deemed too unstable after the incident, she had been placed under medical care. The student council members visited her as often as they could, and while Nina's condition seemed to improve over time, the death of Princess Euphemia still haunted her.
Lastly, Suzaku had been summoned to the mainland for an important military mission. His absence left Shirley, Milly, and Rivalz as the only active members of the council. For weeks, the clubhouse had been eerily quiet, its once vibrant energy replaced with an air of unease and sorrow.
Rivalz, trying to break the oppressive silence, turned to Milly with a forced grin. "What do you think this announcement's about, Prez? Maybe they caught Zero and are gonna unmask him?"
The mention of that name caused Shirley's mood to visibly darken. Rivalz and Milly exchanged a glance, assuming her reaction was because of her father's death.
But Shirley's thoughts were far from her father. While she blamed Zero for the tragedy at first, her anger had dulled over time. She knew war brought casualties, even civilian ones, and Britannia bore as much responsibility as Zero for starting the conflict by invading Japan. No, what truly weighed on her mind was something far more personal—something she couldn't explain.
Her thoughts drifted to the letter she'd found in her room. It wasn't the contents alone that unsettled her, but the person it was about.
Shirley couldn't shake the strange feeling that had gripped her ever since the day she met him. She'd known Nunnally well—sweet, kind Nunnally—but she'd never felt any connection to her brother, Lelouch Lamperouge. Yet suddenly, everyone around her acted as if she and Lelouch had been close friends. Some even hinted they were more than that.
At first, she assumed it was one of Milly's elaborate pranks. It was just the sort of thing Milly would do—convince someone they had a secret lover, plant fake letters, and laugh as they pieced together the clues. But the letter Shirley had found made her question everything.
It was written in her handwriting.
The letter detailed her feelings for Lelouch in ways that felt deeply personal, describing moments and events she couldn't recall. Some of the incidents aligned with her memories, but Lelouch wasn't part of them—or at least, not in her mind. The most chilling part of the letter was at the very end, where she confessed to discovering Lelouch's identity as Zero.
That revelation left her shaken to her core. Shirley had tried everything to remember the events described in the letter. She retraced her steps, compared the timelines, and analyzed every detail. The events matched her schedule perfectly—but not her memories.
Something had happened to her, something that erased Lelouch from her mind entirely.
She sat in the dimly lit clubhouse, clutching the letter tightly. Her heart raced as she thought about the gaps in her memory and the disturbing implications of what she'd uncovered. Who was Lelouch? What did I forget? And why can't I remember?
Milly trying to lighten the mood leaned back in her chair, a playful glint in her eye. "Oh, please. I doubt that. Didn't you hear? They say Zero and Princess Cornelia ran away together. Finding true love in the middle of a battlefield—how romantic."
Rivalz couldn't help but crack a smile. "And who exactly is 'they'? You're the only person in the world who'd come up with a rumor like that."
Milly grinned triumphantly, ready to fire back with another quip, but the clubhouse TV suddenly caught their attention as the imperial announcement began.
The screen displayed the Emperor in his typical commanding stance, flanked by grand imperial banners. At first, it looked like any other royal broadcast—another speech extolling Britannia's greatness—but then, the focus shifted. Two figures were brought forward, their identities announced to the entire world.
Lelouch and Nunnally vi Britannia.
The reaction in the room was instant and visceral.
Rivalz was the first to speak, his eyes wide with shock. "Is… Is… That—?" he stammered, pointing at the screen.
"Yes," Milly said, her voice uncharacteristically solemn. Unlike Rivalz, she wasn't surprised, but she was deeply concerned. She had always known Lelouch's secret, his identity as the 11th Prince of Britannia, and she understood the dangers of his return to the royal fold.
Oh, Lelouch, she thought, her heart heavy. I hope you know what you're doing. Nuna's counting on you, and knowing you, you've probably got ten different plans already in motion. But even you can't plan for everything.
Rivalz, still trying to process what he was seeing, ran a hand through his hair. "This doesn't make any sense! Lelouch? A prince? How—?" His words trailed off as his gaze darted between the TV and his friends, searching for answers that wouldn't come.
Shirley, however, remained silent. Her reaction wasn't shock or disbelief—it was confusion. Pure, unrelenting confusion.
Nunnally being revealed as a princess should have left her stunned. On any other day, discovering her sweet, gentle friend was a member of the royal family would have been earth-shattering. But Shirley didn't even register Nunnally.
Her focus was entirely on Lelouch.
The boy standing beside Nunnally on the screen—calm, regal, exuding authority—was a complete stranger to her. Yet, he wasn't. Her heart ached with recognition she couldn't explain, and her mind raced to reconcile the fragments of memory she couldn't piece together.
The boy I supposedly loved. The thought made her stomach twist. She had never truly met Lelouch Lamperouge—or so she thought. Yet, there he was, revealed as a lost prince of Britannia.
Her mind screamed with questions. If he's Lelouch vi Britannia, why was he hiding as a commoner? Why didn't I know? But the questions about his past paled in comparison to the ones about her own.
Why can't I remember him?
The letter in her room resurfaced in her thoughts like a ghost. The words in her handwriting—her feelings, her confessions, her revelations. The memories it described, of Lelouch as both the boy she loved and Zero, the masked terrorist who had stood against Britannia itself. Memories she should have, but didn't.
She thought of the photos she'd found, pictures of herself with Lelouch, smiling, happy—images that should have triggered memories but instead felt like glimpses into someone else's life.
Shirley clutched the edge of her chair, her knuckles white as her breathing grew shallow. "I don't… I don't understand," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Rivalz, caught up in his own disbelief, didn't notice. But Milly did. She glanced at Shirley, her usual playful expression giving way to concern. "Shirley?"
Shirley didn't respond. Her mind was spiraling, trying to reconcile the Lelouch on the screen with the gaps in her memory. She felt as though she was chasing shadows, fragments of a life that felt both hers and not hers.
Who is Lelouch vi Britannia? And what happened to me?
The broadcast continued, the Emperor's commanding voice cutting through the haze in her mind, but Shirley barely heard it. All she could do was stare at the screen, her heart pounding, as the pieces of her fractured reality refused to fit together.
Shinjuku Ghetto
Tokyo Settlement
It had been three weeks since the Black Rebellion was crushed, yet for Kallen, the pain felt as raw as ever. She hadn't felt this hopeless since the death of her brother, Naoto. Back then, she had lost not only her family but her sense of purpose. Naoto's dream of a free Japan had been the fire that kept her going, but after losing him, she realized how impossible that dream seemed.
The only reason she fought after his death was to follow him—to die like him and join him, wherever he was.
But everything had changed when she met him.
She remembered it vividly. Trapped in the Shinjuku Ghetto, piloting a battered Glasgow with one arm, surrounded by a dozen superior Britannian Sutherlands, she had resigned herself to her fate. Death seemed certain.
Then, with a single line, he gave her hope.
It was more than just words—it was a promise. And he delivered. Not only did they survive, but Zero turned the tide of the battle. Against all odds, they emerged victorious. He killed the Viceroy, sent the Britannians retreating, and gave Japan its first real victory in years.
From that moment on, Kallen decided to follow him.
Zero didn't just give them victories. He gave them something far more precious: hope. Hope that they could defeat Britannia, the world's strongest military power. Hope that the dream of a free Japan wasn't just Naoto's impossible ideal. For the first time in years, Kallen felt like she was fighting for something real—and for someone she believed in.
But none of that mattered now.
The Black Rebellion had failed. The Black Knights were in ruins, reduced to a shadow of their former strength. Most of her comrades were dead or captured. The few who survived were scattered, their spirits broken. Britannia itself was in chaos, with the Viceroy missing and their garrisons depleted, leaving the ghettos to descend into lawlessness.
Kallen had done what she could to survive. On her way home from buying groceries, she'd beaten up a few refrain addicts who had been harassing a little girl. She didn't know why she intervened—maybe it was instinct, or maybe she just hated seeing others suffer the way she did. She'd taken the addicts' stash of refrain, hoping it might stop them from living in the past, but the irony wasn't lost on her.
When she returned to her brother's old apartment, she collapsed onto the floor, the cold, hard surface offering little comfort. It had become her default position lately, a reflection of how far she'd fallen. After Naoto's death, she still had school, Oghi, and the others to keep her going. But now? She was truly alone.
The apartment was dark and suffocating, the air heavy with despair. She switched on the decrepit TV in the corner of the room, its flickering screen a miracle of resilience. Mindlessly, she flipped through channels, but her aimless scrolling was interrupted by a sudden change. Every channel displayed the same thing: a timer counting down to an "important announcement" from the Emperor.
What now? she thought bitterly. Are they going to gloat about their victory over us?
When the broadcast began, it was as pompous as ever. The Emperor stood between towering Britannian banners, the embodiment of the Empire's might and arrogance. Kallen watched with detached disdain, expecting another speech about Britannian supremacy.
But then the camera panned, and two figures stepped forward.
Her heart froze.
No. No. No. That's…
It was him.
Lelouch.
Her mind reeled, her world crumbling around her. She had already come to terms with the fact that her Britannian classmate was Zero. In hindsight, it made sense—who else would have known how to contact her in the Ashford Academy bathroom? But this revelation was something else entirely.
He wasn't just Zero. He wasn't just Lelouch Lamperouge.
He was Lelouch vi Britannia—a prince of the Empire.
Her breathing grew ragged, her thoughts spiraling out of control. He used us. All of us. Why? Was it just a game to him? Did he do it for power?
Her gaze darted to the corner of the room, where she had thrown the case of refrain she took from the addicts. Her hands trembled as she reached for it. Tears streamed down her face as her resolve crumbled.
Naoto… Mom… I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore. I just want to be with you.
She picked up the injector, her hands shaking so violently she could barely hold it. Lelouch's speech played in the background, his calm, authoritative voice contrasting with the chaos in her mind. As she brought the injector closer to her arm, the vibrations of her phone startled her.
The device slipped from her hands, spilling the refrains' contents onto the floor.
She froze, her breath hitching as the reality of what she had almost done hit her like a tidal wave. Sobbing uncontrollably, she cursed herself for even considering it.
Her trembling hands reached for her phone, expecting to see a message from Oghi or a notification about the Emperor's announcement. Instead, her blood ran cold when she saw the caller ID.
It wasn't her usual phone.
It was the encrypted phone Zero had given her.
And the call was from him.
Her hands still trembling, Kallen hesitated for a moment before answering the call. She pressed the phone to her ear, her breath unsteady.
"Hello, Q-1," the voice on the other end greeted her. It was unmistakably his—calm, smooth, and commanding. But this wasn't the distorted, robotic voice Zero used to shield his identity. This was Lelouch's voice, the same voice that had been playing on the TV just moments ago.
Her thoughts swirled in chaos, but one word escaped her lips, trembling and weak. "H-How?"
Lelouch could hear the broadcast faintly in the background, recognizing the speech he had delivered earlier. His response came effortlessly, a practiced tone of reassurance. "Ah, the announcement. Those are always on a ten-minute delay. They don't want another Guinevere incide—"
Before he could finish, Kallen interrupted him, her voice cracking. "W-Why?" This time, there was no mistaking the pain behind the question.
Lelouch's composed demeanor faltered slightly. He had anticipated this conversation but hadn't fully prepared for the rawness of her emotions. He recalled the reports Villetta had provided—every detail about the surviving Black Knights, their locations, their conditions. When he learned Kallen had evaded capture and was spotted near Shinjuku, he had felt a rare moment of relief.
She had always been his most loyal follower, the one who had unwaveringly believed in Zero's vision. She was also the only Black Knight who had known him as Lelouch. Yet, in his calculations, he hadn't fully considered the toll the rebellion's failure had taken on her spirit.
"Kalle—" he began, his tone softening, but Kallen's voice broke through again, sharper this time.
"Why did you use us? Why did you use me?"
The hurt in her words cut deeper than he expected. Lelouch paused, gathering his thoughts before responding. "Kallen, I didn't use you. Now, please—"
"You lied to me!" she snapped, her voice rising with emotion. "You lied to all of us! We believed you—I believed you!"
Lelouch's grip tightened on his phone. He understood her anger, her sense of betrayal, but this wasn't the time for emotions to take control. He needed her to listen, to trust him again. Adopting the steady, commanding tone that Zero wielded so effectively, he spoke.
"Kallen. Listen to me. I never lied to you—or anyone in the Black Knights. Yes, I withheld certain information, but only because it wasn't crucial at the time."
"Not crucial?" she snarled, the bitterness in her voice palpable.
He didn't let her interrupt this time, his voice firm but measured. "At the time, no, it wasn't. But now, things have changed. If you want your friends freed, if you want Japan to have another chance at freedom, then I need you to trust me. I need you to listen."
"Is this some kind of blackmail?" Kallen shot back, though her voice wavered.
"No," Lelouch said firmly, his tone resolute. "It's a promise. I made a vow to the Black Knights—to you—that I would free Japan. That hasn't changed. I will fulfill that promise. But first, I need to save those who were captured. And for that, I need your help."
Kallen's grip on the phone tightened as she tried to process his words. Her mind raced with conflicting emotions—anger, hurt, confusion, and a flicker of hope she didn't dare trust.
Could he still be telling the truth? Could he still mean it?
She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe her friends could be freed, that Japan's dream of liberation wasn't completely lost. More than anything, she wanted to feel useful again, to have purpose, to mean something in a world that felt increasingly hollow.
"What do you need me to do?" she asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
On the other end, Lelouch allowed himself a small, relieved smile. "Good. I'll explain everything. For now, stay in Shinjuku. I'll contact you with further instructions soon. Trust me, Kallen. Together, we'll finish what we started."
As the call ended, Kallen sat there in silence, the phone still in her hand. Her tears had stopped, but her heart remained heavy. She didn't know if she could fully trust him again, but for the first time in weeks, a faint glimmer of hope stirred within her.
Geass Directorate
Chinese Federation
The Grandmaster of the Geass Directorate sat slouched on his ornate throne, watching the imperial announcement unfold on the massive screen before him. As the newly reinstated prince began his speech, his face twisted in rage.
With a guttural growl, he hurled the remote across the room. It struck the screen, cracking the glass, but the image remained visible—a clear reminder of what fueled his fury.
"Why would Charles do this?" he spat, his voice venomous. "Not only did he bring back his traitorous spawn, but the weak cripple as well."
Behind him, another figure stood silently, his posture rigid, his gaze fixed on the damaged screen. Unlike his so-called Grandmaster, his emotions weren't consumed by rage but by something far more complex—something he thought his modified heart could no longer feel.
Hope.
Jeremiah Gottwald had expected to die after his humiliating defeat on Kamine Island. He had failed the Empire, failed his comrades, and most painfully, failed the family he had sworn to protect. Even the modifications made to his body, transforming him into something less than human, had felt like a curse rather than a salvation. For months, he had drifted without purpose, consumed by shame and regret.
But now, as he watched the announcement, hope surged within him.
The prince lives.
Lelouch vi Britannia, the son of Lady Marianne, stood before the world once more. Jeremiah's chest tightened as a sense of clarity washed over him. I still have a purpose. In the past, he had failed to protect Lady Marianne and her children, the ones he had sworn his loyalty to. That failure had driven him to form the Purist Faction, a desperate attempt to honor her memory by purging Britannia of the Elevens who took the lives of her children.
But vengeance had never been enough.
Now, seeing his prince alive and speaking with such confidence, Jeremiah knew his purpose had been renewed. He would not fail Lady Marianne's children again. This time, he would serve them, protect them, no matter what.
His reverie was interrupted by the sharp, high-pitched voice of his superior.
"Jeremiah!" VV called, his tone shrill with impatience.
Jeremiah turned, bowing slightly. "Yes, Grandmaster?" he replied in a flat tone.
VV rose from his seat, his childish figure dwarfed by the throne's grandeur. His golden eyes gleamed with malice. "I have a new mission for you," he began, his tone laced with condescension. "One so sensitive that even my dear brother, the Emperor, must remain unaware."
Jeremiah's brow furrowed. "A mission, Master?"
VV grinned wickedly. "You are to eliminate those wretched half-blooded spawn of my brother—Lelouch and Nunnally vi Britannia."
Jeremiah stiffened. "But, Master," he began cautiously, "they are members of the royal family. To harm them would be—"
VV's laughter cut him off, high-pitched and mocking. "Oh, Jeremiah. You really don't know, do you?"
Jeremiah's confusion deepened. "Know what, Master?"
VV stepped closer, his grin widening. "That wretched half-blood was the very man who destroyed your life. The one who humiliated you, mutilated you, and cast you into despair. Lelouch vi Britannia is Zero."
Jeremiah froze, his mind struggling to process the revelation. His prince—Lady Marianne's son—was Zero? The masked terrorist who had defied Britannia, who had incited rebellion, who had turned the world upside down?
"Why?" Jeremiah murmured, his voice barely audible. "Why would the prince become a terrorist? Why would he side with the Elevens and turn against his own country?"
VV's expression soured, his voice dripping with disdain. "Isn't it obvious? He's chasing some delusional fantasy of avenging that commoner whore he called his mother."
That word—whore—ignited a fury in Jeremiah's chest. His fists clenched, his mechanical fingers creaking under the pressure. Though he called VV his master, he harboured no loyalty to the man. VV's callous insult to Lady Marianne was a step too far.
"I should have killed him and the cripple along with that wretched woman when I had the chance," VV sneered. "But I didn't. And now, that mistake falls to you to correct, Jeremiah."
VV turned away, his tone dismissive. "You will have Rolo assist you in this mission. Find Lelouch vi Britannia and eliminate him. Kill the man who took everything from you."
For a moment, Jeremiah said nothing, his head bowed, his face obscured. Inside, his emotions churned—anger, betrayal, confusion, and a quiet, resolute determination.
When he finally looked up, his expression was calm, his voice steady. "Yes, Master. I understand."
VV smirked, satisfied, and waved him away.
As Jeremiah left the room, his thoughts were anything but calm. He had learned the truth—about Lelouch, about Zero, and about his failure. And yet, far from breaking him, the revelation strengthened his resolve.
Lady Marianne's son fights against Britannia for a reason. If he became Zero, it must be for her. And I will not fail him again.
For the first time in years, Jeremiah Gottwald felt a sense of purpose, clear and unshakable. He would protect Lelouch and Nunnally, no matter the cost. He would redeem himself in the eyes of his prince.
And he would make sure that VV's crime would not go unanswered.