The local forces of Area Eleven had been waiting for some time for their orders. The defense had been handed off to Princess Cornelia near enough in its entirety, at least for the island of Kyushu. As a result of that, General Bartley had been dismissed with no warning, sent back to Tokyo Settlement. The second princess of the empire had no patience for a man she described as a 'glorified pencil pusher handed a meritless military authority'. It was an accurate description. He had been a civil servant before his sudden transfer to a military role. Cornelia wanted him nowhere near a real battlefield, believed he would cause more harm than good if left in charge of any troops.
It was inevitable that the local forces would feel an amount of anxiety after such a decision, wondering what she would do with them.
Kallen knew, Lelouch had a theory. One he was hoping would prove correct. And so she waited with the Purebloods for Lord Gottwald's meeting with the princess to conclude.
The man himself emerged, wearing a smirk filled with pride and satisfaction. "Kewell. Viletta. Gather the knights and arrange transportation for our equipment. We are moving out."
"We have our orders, sir?" Viletta asked.
"We do. An opportunity to serve the empire and her highness that we shall not forsake!"
"It must be good if you're this excited," Kewell remarked with a smirk. "Though you'd be happy enough receiving any orders from the second princess."
"What about me?" Kallen asked.
"My apologies, Sir Stadtfeld, but you were explicitly excluded from the rest of us. Her highness intends to give your orders personally."
"Sir Stadtfeld," the bespectacled man who followed at Cornelia's heel at all times appeared in the doorway of her temporary office. "Her highness demands your presence."
"Yes, my lord," she said with a bow and an uncomfortable feeling as she spoke the words. Jeremiah nodded at her as the Purebloods got on with whatever they were ordered to do, while Kallen followed Guilford into the office.
"Sir Stadtfeld," Cornelia greeted without looking up from the digital map. "Or would you prefer Lieutenant?"
This was... Different. "Whichever your highness would prefer." As long as it wasn't 'Lady'. Which was conspicuous in its absence from the offered choices.
The princess looked up from the map, and the confusion must have shown on Kallen's face. "I'm not so unaware that I would ignore how irritated you were for my referring to your family. Issues there, I presume? Distaste for you joining the military?"
"My family situation is complicated," quite an understatement, "but right now, no."
"Then why?"
Kallen's eyes narrowed. "Why would I tell you my personal business?"
"Sir Stadtfeld!" Guilford snapped at her from the princess' side. "Mind your tone!
Cornelia let out a little huff, that might have been a laugh. "It's alright, Sir Guilford, at least this time." Her attention focused on the young knight again. "I'm seeing the comparison to Marianne more and more. She was an upstart who didn't care much for observing rank or etiquette, at least in her early days. Though you should learn the lesson she learned quickly," she added with a little authoritative menace entering her tone. "I won't be so forgiving a second time." She pushed off of the table to stand tall and proud, one hand on her hip. "To answer your question, I looked at your records. Your history."
Kallen's heart skipped a beat, wondering if her heritage had been found out.
But no. "I will admit your performance has been exemplary. Granted you haven't seen live combat which will be far more telling for your future. But yours has the potential to be a name worth knowing. So I want to know who you are. What you are. Why." With the weight of an expectant gaze, she once again asked. "Will you answer my question now?" It was clear there would be no refusing a second time.
"... The name 'Stadtfeld' doesn't define me," the redhead answered with defiant acquiescence. "I'm more than just my father's daughter. And I'd rather be known for the title I earned, for who I am and what I can do, instead of for a name that to me is just a name."
"You shouldn't dismiss your legacy so readily. It's more than just a name. It's a history and a pedigree for excellence."
The younger woman grit her teeth. "I'm not a show animal. I don't give a damn about my 'breeding'. I'm me. What I do, I do because I'm Kallen, not because I'm Stadtfeld." A half-truth. Heritage could be important to her, if she were allowed to embrace all of it, not just the convenient half of it.
But that was left unspoken, leaving the princess to draw a different conclusion. "You live for personal glory then."
"That's not what I said! I–!" Guilford stiffened as she raised her voice. She let out a harsh breath, controlling herself as best she could while discussing subjects that could only agitate her. "What I accomplish is mine, not my family's. What I fight for, I choose, not my family. I live for what I choose to live for."
"You're very passionate about this. I have to assume then, you've found your reason to live, your reason to fight. Have you?"
Kallen stayed quiet. She'd said enough, and couldn't say more without lying or incriminating herself.
"Hm." Another hum that was more clearly a laugh, accompanied by a smirk. "Fair enough." Her lips straightened, back to her military poise. "You're being reassigned. You, ASEEC, the Knight of Six are being redeployed elsewhere, alongside many of the local troops of Area Eleven. Lord Gottwald has been granted command of the defense of Shimonoseki. You and ASEEC are assigned to defending that region. However, you will be under the command of the Knight of Six."
Outside of the true chain of command. The Knights of the Round were answerable to none but the Emperor and to a lesser extent the imperial family. "Why?" The moment the question left her lips she realised the mistake.
Kallen had experience with one of the imperial children. Two, actually. Nunnally and Lelouch, they both had the imperial poise and sense of superiority. It was harder to see in Nunnally, but certainly there. The presence of expecting a certain amount of deference, of submission. Nunnally didn't demand it, but to an extent she expected it. Lelouch fully expected it.
Cornelia demanded it. She was an imperial princess. Britannia's most famed General. And a lowly Lieutenant had just questioned her orders for the second time.
"Because those are your orders, Sir Stadtfeld!" the princess barked, the force of the words as impactful as a gunshot. "Dismissed!"
The proudest the redhead could be about her exit from the room, was that she didn't scurry out like a startled rabbit. She certainly hurried though, and was startled to find someone waiting outside for her. "Lady Alstreim, you startled me."
"You were startled already," the smaller girl replied in her dull tone of voice. "You have your orders then."
"I have." She bowed with a hand over her heart. "I'm at your disposal, Lady Alstreim."
The tapping away at her personal diary stopped as Anya's eyes came up to meet Kallen's. "It's to test you."
"What?"
"The reason she put you under me instead of Gottwald. She wants to see what you can do. Find out if you're worth what everyone is saying about you. Put you in combat with minimal oversight as an irregular unit. An ace pilot has the potential to change the course of a battle. If that's what you are, she wants to see it. And if it isn't, then your failure won't matter to the larger battle."
In other words, she was being given exactly the chance she wanted. "Then I'll have to surpass her expectations." The chance Lelouch knew she would be given.
Well. That was maybe too strong. He had admitted to her he wasn't certain it would go this way, but he was confident it would and it wouldn't harm his plans if it didn't.
To hear Lelouch tell it, Cornelia was a woman who had exacting standards. Because of that, she wouldn't accept their participation within her own command structure, not unless she had to. He knew, and thus strongly believed that Cornelia would know, this battle would be on multiple fronts. The first was of course Fukuoka. Britannia's centre of power that had to be defeated to gain a worthwhile beachhead on Japanese soil. The second was the city of Shimonoseki to the east. It was a bottleneck in the landed supply lines from the rest of Japan. If they could sever the bridges that connected the two islands, they could cripple the ability for Britannia to receive reinforcements or supplies. Make war on Kyushu with near impunity. From there, from a consolidated position, they could invade the rest of Japan far easier.
Cornelia could only manage so much of the conflict. She was already focused on the naval battle that was ongoing in the Korean Strait. She would then be faced with the defense of Fukuoka. She had to delegate somewhere, and she left her best general behind in Area Ten. Someone had to take command in Shimonoseki. Who it would be wouldn't matter much. What mattered was where Kallen would be deployed.
And as an untrusted, untested ace pilot, it was the battle Cornelia wouldn't be controlling.
Everything was falling into place. She was granted her chance. She simply had to make the absolute most of it. Along with all of her fellow Japanese, she would show what the Japanese people could accomplish.
-(-)-
The battle of the Korea Strait was going poorly. That is to say, it was breaking far earlier than anyone in Area Eleven wanted. Cornelia's fleet wasn't large. She had been engaged in land warfare when the emperor fell. Her forces were geared primarily for that kind of conflict. Her naval officers had done what they could with what they had, forcing the much larger force coming from the now Militarised Zone of Korea to slow their progress. Battling using hit and run tactics. Harassing the Chinese for every mile of sea they traversed.
It was a functional plan. Weaken the Chinese forces so they would break upon the Kyushu defenses. But somehow... It seemed the Chinese had a commander or command staff who were frighteningly perceptive. It felt like they were waiting for each assault, ready to intercept, prevent major damage. One particular dangerous gambit... It had backfired in spectacular fashion. A Britannian battleship had been damaged in a way that looked crippling but was in fact only superficial. Yet the Captain of the vessel retreated, hoping to lure ships away from the main fleet in an attempt to severely weaken any further attempts to harass the invading navy. To encircle those Chinese ships that followed and decimate the fleet's fighting capability on the water.
They knew. They chased the 'limping' battleship only so far that they could turn their guns on the ships attempting to encircle them. The trap was sprung and reversed in the same movement. Multiple ships were lost, and the Britannian fleet was rendered incapable of halting the Chinese advance.
The mainland prepared for what had far too quickly become an inevitable coastal defense.
"Engaging airborne targets..." the Knight of Six spoke into the radio. Having said all she needed to or cared to say, focused all of her attention on the controls and readouts of her Mordred. The custom Gloucester model was tailored specifically for her use, to her preferences. She always excelled at long-range. Bismarck, Gino, Nonette, they preferred to get close. Anya always preferred staying at the back. Not for the sake of safety, but simply because it let her focus on the use of incredible firepower.
There were others who could hold the line. Her job was to make sure the enemies never reached it in the first place.
A difficult task in this environment. The Chinese assault began with aircraft. Not the best option against an enemy that had time to entrench themselves and prepare. However... The Chinese pilots were using unconventional tactics. The factspheres told her the reason why. The planes... Just like the Gun-Ru knightmare frames, the Chinese planes were a stripped down and unimpressive model. Built to be disposable, because they would not be returning. They would drop their payload, and then attempt to do some damage the only other way they could. Anya didn't especially care to guess, but if she did, she would assume the pilots were also disposable. Former Sixteens. Their lives thrown away as the vanguard to break the Britannian lines. Willing, even glad to die if it meant striking at Britannia.
It annoyed Anya that it was working. And so she raised the rifle that could more accurately be described as a cannon, let the targeting system do its thing... Adjust left. Pull the trigger.
The plane veered, banking toward a defensive emplacement meant for bombarding ships. But before it could arm a single weapon, the machine was punctured through the cockpit.
Another. Aim. Correct. Shoot. Aim. Correct. Shoot. Aim. Correct. Shoot. Over and over, eight planes downed, and yet more came. A swarm of locusts. As fast as she could down them, more would come.
"Excellent shooting, Lady Alstreim,"Gottwald's voice crackled over the radio. "We're adjusting for their suicidal tactics, it should give you some breathing room. If they want to die so badly we'll ensure they die for nothing."
Yes. Very inspiring. Well, he was probably trying to inspire himself and the rest of them down there. How they'll contribute to the cause rather than let her do all the work.
Which was good. Because... It was starting to become a problem. She wasted five shots attempting to down a plane that managed to evade her fire at every turn, only for that plane to turn and vanish toward the east. In the time she wasted on that oddity, the numbers were growing.
Worse. They were paying attention. And suddenly every plane had chosen a very specific target. Cheap planes veered toward the high-rise building she had chosen as her sniper nest. Missiles, bombs, gunfire, all coming her way at once. She abandoned her perch, scaled down the building as explosions bloomed below her taking out the lower floors and ruining the stability of the structure. "Locking on." One target. Two targets. The contraption on the back of her knightmare erupted with sequential whump sounds. Each a rocket that would track a target and seek it until it struck. Two planes downed, while Anya aimed her secondary weapon, a KMF-scale submachine gun, with her off hand to take down a third. The dangers of flying so close, being so desperate to take her out. She leapt off the building, planning her next moves. The air assault was ongoing.
And in such a brief moment of distraction, the defensive lines frayed just a little more. And far in the distance, enormous transport ships loomed, waiting for their moment to land.
-(-)-
"Haaaa... I'm starting to wonder if we're not wanted, you know."
"I'm sure it isn't all that bad! We're here, and we'll soon get real combat data for the Lancelot."
Lloyd Asplund sighed. One that turned from maudlin to wistful as it escaped him. "That's true. Even if they leave us stuck in these cramped maintenance tunnels, the promise of my darling Lancelot taking the field for the first time will make it all worth it."
Cecil smiled, having cheered up her boss for the moment, hopefully long enough she wouldn't need to ride herd on him for a while. And as a result could focus on the one who was probably the most stressed of them. "How are you holding up, Sir Stadtfeld?" she shouted down to the knight as she paced back and forth in front of her knightmare.
"That depends," Kallen answered, arms folded, drumming her fingers on her arm impatiently. "How is the battle going?"
"Just try not to think about that–"
"Ahaha, oh yes! Try not to think about what might be causing those explosions, or the rumbling, or the gunfire–AHH!"
"What Lloyd means to say is, don't waste your energy on stress!"
Kallen sighed. "Cecile. I know you mean well. But that advice is stupid as hell and Lloyd is right. If you think I can ignore a battle going on right above my head when people I know are fighting and maybe dying, you're crazy."
Outside of the cockpit, Lloyd smiled smugly as his assistant deflated. "Just... Try to focus on your breathing."
"I'm breathing fine. How's the battle going?"
"According to the last report, it seems the suicidal air assault has opened a section of coast and rendered it very difficult to defend," the eccentric engineer answered, utterly unwilling to sugar coat the situation. Especially after the pilot expressed her desire to hear the whole truth. "Ships are moving in hopes to capitalise on it. Looks like it will be fighting on the beaches next. If they haven't started already."
Kallen grimaced. She didn't know what Lelouch planned to do. Only that he intended to ensure the battle turned in their favour. She had no way to know whether his plans were on the right track. She had no way to know if it was even still possible. She looked at her radio that had been silent ever since the equipment check. The waiting was killing her. She looked up at the machine. The bleeding edge technology that could so easily turn the tide. "We're starting the activation sequence," she declared, stomping toward the ladder that would take her up to the cockpit.
"Uh-wha?" Lloyd... Asked?
"Sir Stadtfeld!" Cecile exclaimed, rushing over and grabbing the ladder out of the younger woman's hands. "You don't have permission to deploy yet!"
"I don't care."
"You should!"
"People are dying out there and I'm just sitting here doing nothing! You might not care, but people I care about might be dying out there and–!"
The slap wasn't strong. But the sheer weight of such a gentle woman striking her across the face held more power than the sunday punch of a heavyweight boxer. Cecile's stare was stern, yet sympathetic. "I know you're under a lot of pressure. I know this is your first battle. And I know the waiting is the worst part. But don't for a single moment think you're the only one worried about what's happening right now. You swore an oath to serve the empire. The people up there are relying on you not to do what you feel like doing, but what they need you to do. And right now, they need you to wait. Do you understand?"
Kallen nodded.
Cecile relaxed, though looked a little ashamed. "I'm sorry for slapping you. I don't know what the protocol is for that, but I'll accept whatever chastisement is appropriate." After all, they were both technically under Prince Schneizel's service and he was an ocean away. Then there was the Knight of Six, Prince Clovis, Princess Cornelia, it was all a mess.
"No, no, you were right. I mean don't do it again," Kallen added, rubbing her cheek, "But you were right. I wasn't thinking."
"Thank you."
"Aha, ahaha!" Lloyd laughed nervously, gasping for breath like he had been holding it for the entire altercation. "Well that was rather tense, wasn't it?! So we're not starting the activation sequence?"
"No. We'll... We'll wait for orders to come in."
And they did. For another hour.
"ASEEC. Orders from the Knight of Six," the radio crackled on Kallen's chest. "Sir Stadtfeld and the Lancelot are to deploy, preliminary orders to engage hostile knightmare frames to relieve overburdened defensive emplacements."
"Lloyd!"
"Beginning activation sequence, Sir Stadtfeld!" he answered her shout while she was already climbing the ladder.
Cecile moved the ladder away before she ran to her laptop. "Primary systems powering up! Core luminous coming online!" The cockpit slid into place as inside the Lancelot, screens came to life. "Factspheres coming online!"
"Good luck, Sir Stadtfeld!" Lloyd called out. "Remember to pace yourself!"
"Secondary systems online! Power output holding stable at one hundred percent! Z-01 Lancelot is go for launch!"
The landspinners dropped as Kallen gripped the controls. "Launching!" And with a burst of speed, the first seventh generation frame began its first combat deployment, speeding through crumbling maintenance tunnels before exploding out onto the streets of Shimonoseki.
And it stopped. "This... This is..."
War.
Kallen hadn't seen it before. Not really. She was a child when the Britannian's came to conquer. Hidden away in her nice big house, waiting for the conflict to end while her mother put on a brave face. She had never seen what a battlefield was really like. Explosions lit up the night sky. The roar of engines, the scream of aircraft, the shrieking of knightmares carving paths of violence through broken, rubble-strewn streets.
Shimonoseki. Fukuoka. They had both been evacuated of civilians, both Britannian and Japanese. Only military and support personnel resided in these cities now. Kallen was glad for that. But an inescapable thought hammered into her mind. The cities were evacuated because there were places to evacuate to. Cities further south. Or across the bridge to Honshu. If they could stop the invasion here, those people would never have to see another battlefield like this. Not the Britannians. Not the Japanese.
But the JLF. The Six Houses. They wanted them to experience it. They wanted scenes like this to rage across all of Japan, all the way to Tokyo. Battles on the streets of the Britannian settlement. This, nothing could make it apparent quite like seeing this, just what the supposed hope of Japan were aiming for.
"Bastards... Those bastards!" She was naive, but they knew what war was! They knew what it would be if they let the Britannians and Chinese destroy each other! They knew, and they wanted it! All of the lives that would be lost in the middle of it! The Japanese people crushed under the weight of two armies, and for what?! A flag?!
She smashed the broadcast button on her radio as she steered her machine with her other hand, watching the IFF map. "Sir Stadtfeld, reporting in! Entering combat zone!" She was getting a better view of the battlefield. Just as Lloyd had said, two Chinese transport ships had managed to land, supported by a stolen Britannian destroyer giving them covering fire as swarms of knightmares poured out of the transports. Their numbers were astonishing. They must have piled the damn things to the ceiling in there. And even worse, more transport ships were looming in the distance, waiting to see if they were even needed.
It was time to thin those numbers.
She weaved to one side then the other, avoiding the gunfire from the primary armaments of the Gun-Ru as she approached. Drew a sword from its sheath on the Lancelot's back before carving through the legs of the machine, not even watching it collapse before moving on to the next. The sword crashing down on the body of the next to carve through the cockpit. Again, she moved on, slash harkens firing, carving into another machine. She used it as an anchor to swing across two more and carve into their armaments and one of the cockpits. Then retracted the slash harkens to drag the hapless enemy closer and impale it on her sword. The slash harkens withdrew, as did her sword, as she kicked off the broken machine to turn and catch a hail of bullets on the Blaze Luminous shield.
She could fight through these things all night, but she had orders. Holding a defensive position for a half second, she scanned her map for the defensive emplacements that might be struggling. Seeing one, she saw as one of the IFF beacons went out, leaving only four out of the eight frame squad guarding an important choke point. One of the fastest routes to the main bridge connecting the islands.
She rushed the machine attacking her, slammed the energy shield into it with enough force to knock it off its feet, her sword carving the right armaments off as it bit deeply into the main body. Then she kept moving, slowing only a little to deal with the machines that were determined to get in her way.
"Nice work, Kallen!" came a familiar voice from her radio.
"Lady Alstreim," Kallen answered. "I'm on my way to support squad six."
"I'll leave them to you then. Now that they've stopped sending aircraft our way I'll take the chance to resupply."
So the Knight of Six was taking a break. She needed to take a break. That said a lot about how the battle had gone thus far. If the destruction all around hadn't said it for her.
The scene she found when she arrived at the defensive emplacement was like something out of a zombie movie. A handful of Britannian knightmares and gun emplacements behind a barricade, fending off a tide of cheap, knock-off knightmares. All the Gun-Ru could do was move and shoot. They couldn't even eject when the frame was destroyed. What greeted Kallen was a wide open street filled with derelict machines and more than likely a cooling corpse inside each one of them. Within the killing field, three Sutherland units with ejected cockpits.
And still the Gun-Ru kept coming, knocking their dead comrades out of the way as they charged the defensive line. As they fired on the Sutherlands keeping them at bay, working to breach the barricade at the same time.
"Enough of this!" one of the Sutherlands exclaimed. The machine rose over the defensive wall, arm reared back.
"Kewell, get down!"
Missiles launched from three different Gun-Ru, eager to capitalise on an easy target. Only for a white knightmare to interpose itself between them and that target. Three detonations, each achieving nothing but a jarring impact and a burst of heat, light and smoke. Kallen lowered her shield, only to raise it again when she saw the object land in the crowd of enemies. Dropping to one knee she managed to avoid any severe damage to the Lancelot as the chaos mine detonated, spraying shrapnel in all directions and perforating a half dozen enemy knightmares.
"Kewell, you fool!" Viletta's voice exclaimed. "You almost killed us all!"
"I–!" He tried to defend his actions as he returned to firing at the remaining attackers. "My apologies. And thank you for the save, Sir Stadtfeld."
"Don't mention it," she answered, not entirely comfortable with saving the lives of people who would probably want her dead if they knew the truth. "Lord Gottwald," she called on her radio, "Where am I needed?"
"It's a target-rich environment, Sir Stadtfeld," he answered directly. "We're holding the bridge here. Lady Alstreim will be returning to the field momentarily. We clear the city of hostiles, then we can consider next steps. For now, focus on lessening the burden on our artillery emplacements. The more guns we lose, the worse the next wave is going to be."
There was going to be a next wave then. Of course there was. With Cornelia's fleet in shambles that was the natural outcome. They had to hold out long enough, not let the weight of numbers crush them for long enough, that the Chinese would have no choice but to back off.
Explosions rang in her ears as she continued moving through the battlefield. A roving terror, cutting her way through too many enemies for her to keep count. At some point... It felt like things had calmed down. Anya was clearly back in action by how many Gun-Ru suddenly exploded and fell over for no reason. There were so few left, it felt like a reprieve.
But only a momentary one.
Aircraft screamed overhead. A signal to all who had been through the first that a new assault was beginning. And far in the distance, more ships began to drift closer.
"Stand strong, Sir Stadtfeld," Jeremiah said to her over the radio. "This may prove to be a long night."
Three more transport ships. If each one was as laden with knightmares like the first two... They were already struggling.
"All artillery positions! Focus fire on the westernmost transport!" Jeremiah commanded. The logic made sense. Guarantee stopping one of them. Cut a third of their forces before they could land. Two more ships. The same again. They could handle that. Maybe.
-(-)-
"And so it begins."
-(-)-
BOOOOOOOOOOOM!
"What the hell?!" Kallen had to shield her eyes as a sun dawned from beneath the incoming ships. Even through the monitors it was blinding, she worried for those seeing it with their bare eyes.
"Situation report! What the hell is going on out there?!" Jeremiah demanded.
"... They're gone." Not gone. But each one was left a burning ruin of wreckage. And the stolen destroyer was retreating, seemingly not knowing what the fuck just happened and not keen to stick around and find out if it would happen again. "All approaching landing ships have been destroyed."
"... Ha! Hahaha! Hahahahaha!" Kallen laughed, near uncontrollably, barely having the presence of mind to shut off her microphone. "You son of a bitch, what did you even do?!"
She would get her answer once the cleanup operation was complete. Once she finally got a moment to breathe she immediately checked the news. There was no way he would leave it at just turning the battle around in one move. And sure enough, only an hour after it happened, a message had been broadcast across Japan on television.
"People of Japan. War has once again come to this land. "It was Ohgi's voice. Speaking over footage of the very battle she had just fought in. "An opportunistic force seeing a moment of weakness, they attack, ready to spill the blood of anyone who gets in their way. The very people they so recently 'liberated', used as cannon fodder. Seen as nothing more than disposable trash, their lives consumed as casually as water. This is what they offer us. This is what they bring. Not liberation. Not freedom. They offer us the chance to die for them, and all we have to do to earn that privilege is be ready to die for them. All they bring to our shores is suffering on a scale we can't even imagine. We refuse. We vow, the people of Japan will not live through that ever again."
"Britannia," he continued. "We don't believe in Britannia as it is. We won't be wilfully blind to what the empire is, what it's done to our people. You put us all through pain, through suffering, through loss. You took from us. You took our home and you made it your own, forced us to bow and scrape for the most basic respect. Well it's our turn to take. You stole our identity, our heritage, our pride. So while we fight right alongside you, as we work together to protect all people of this land even while you don't realise it, that's our price. We're taking back our identity, our heritage, our pride, and fighting proudly to protect the Japanese, and the Britannian people. Because they'll be one in the same."
The camera cut from the footage of the destroyed Chinese transports, to Ohgi climbing out of a Portman knightmare frame seemingly still wet from a dive. "My name is Kaname Ohgi. I'm the leader of the Japanese Special Defense Force. And I'm a Japanese Britannian."
A final cut, to a flag. A Britannian flag, but in place of the ostentatious shield was a simple red circle outlined in white. The name of the organisation imposed above and below it in English and Japanese Kanji.
Kallen expected the next briefing to involve a lot of yelling.
Being honest, despite how exhausted she was, she couldn't wait.