August 15 2018, A.T.B.

Two days had passed since her unexpected liberation from prison, and Viletta Nu was hellbent on seeing her mission through to completion. Gazing through a sniper's scope at the unassuming alleyway below, the lovely soldier carefully scanned the scene from her rooftop perch. "I still can't believe Her Highness expects you to balance high school classes on top of planning and carrying out these kinds of operations. This is a war, not some half-hour animated toy commercial…"

"Tell me about it," a disgruntled male voice replied through her radio earpiece. "She said I need to socialize with people my own age outside of the military, but there are so many bigger fish to fry that it just… doesn't really feel like a priority, you know?"

Viletta smirked in spite of herself. "Once we RTB, I'm telling your harem you said you'd rather work yourself to death than look after your mental health."

"...that's not what I said and you know it!"

"It isn't," she agreed with a laugh. "But it's a natural consequence of what you meant."

Down at street level, an anxious woman in casual dress chose that moment to enter the alleyway, heading for a nondescript back entrance. "The target's in sight, just as indicated by the last two nights' reconnaissance."

"You're absolutely positive that this is the place? If we screw up in the first episode, we aren't going to get any do-overs."

Viletta took a deep breath, understanding with deliberate patience that her mission leader was still an absolute rookie and that he still had the nerves to match. "Take it from a woman trying to escape certain execution: I'd bet my life on this."

"...right, I understand. I'm sorry I doubted you."

"Apologies are like commodities," Viletta coolly replied as she watched the target enter the building, "in that their value is tied in part to scarcity. The more there are, the less they're worth. Moving on; from what I could tell the other night, they were actually out of supply when she came around for more, which is why she's willing enough to come back so quickly – and in broad daylight, at that. With that in mind, I'd wait until Her Highness gets a little further in her speech before moving in."

"Isn't that leaving her enough time to shoot up, though?"

"It is, but an… a civilian," she hastily corrected herself, "that's high out of her mind is preferable to one that's aching for her fix and might pick up a gun to try and remove an obstacle between her and it. It mitigates senseless risk on your part – and as I recall, you were insistent that we have medical specialists on standby as it stands."

"I'm not exactly pleased, but… fine, I do understand your reasoning. I'm moving into position now; just give me a signal when it's time to move in."

Inside the warehouse, a Britannian man wearing unremarkable street clothes and cheap sunglasses flipped through a wad of cash the woman had handed him before giving her a syringe and a small padded bag of vials in return. "If you're aching half as bad as it looks, there's a room in the back with some thick, heavy carpeting. No risk of getting yourself hurt in there."

"Thank you so, so much." The woman teared up with gratitude as she took the bag and turned in the indicated direction, only to immediately stumble and almost drop it with how badly her hands were shaking.

"...roll up a sleeve and I'll get you taken care of, lady."

The woman, an older Eleven woman who would have looked quite pretty were she in better health, gave him a look of equal parts shame and relief. "If you would be so kind, then please…"

Once the man carefully injected the contents of a vial into her arm, the woman's condition quickly seemed to improve as she stood up with unexpected strength and her expression became one of supreme joy. Upon gently guiding her into the backroom, the man returned to a troubled look from one of his compatriots.

"Hey Tom, you ever wonder if it's fucked up that we make a living selling this shit to people when we know it's killing them?"

Tom took out a cigarette from a shirt pocket and lit up, taking a short drag. "...answer me this, Dick: how many people in this world do you think really get to die happy? One in a hundred? One in a thousand?"

The younger man, Dick, looked away, clearly not having an answer.

"You could even say it's one in a hundred thousand," Tom continued with a wave of his cig, "and I'd still call bullshit because let's face it, life's a bitch. These poor bastards shooting up on Refrain? They can forget all that and shuffle off this mortal coil on the highest note they've ever known, and here we are watching over 'em like guardian angels or some shit to make sure there's no trouble afoot. Why shouldn't we be compensated for providing such a luxury service?"

Dick opened his mouth as if to answer that, only for another dealer playing solitaire on a stack of crates to voice his opinion on the matter first.

"Elevens aren't people, you pussies!"

"Shut the fuck up, Harry!"

Tom and Dick shared a brief laugh at their unintended shout in stereo, before the latter stepped over to a portable radio. "Either of you know a good FM news station? I thought I'd put the Viceroy's speech on."

Tom scoffed, taking another hit on his smoke. "FM reception here's shit for the same reason our phones are useless; you're gonna have better luck switching to AM."

After some minutes of futzing around with the radio dial and cursing at unwanted morning talk shows, eventually Dick found a station broadcasting the address.

"Although I don't know what's so important," Tom muttered. "Seems like there's something going on every damn day now…"

"Shut up, it's already started!"

"Furthermore," a tinny reproduction of Euphemia's voice declared, "it has come to our attention that in addition to his other crimes, my predecessor suppressed information about the deleterious effects of an illegal psychotropic called Refrain, which causes widespread damage to users' nervous systems that frequently turns fatal. In light of this revelation, I am reclassifying Refrain as a chemical weapon effective immediately, the creators and distributors of which are to be hunted down and punished accordingly…"

Tom, Dick, and Harry all shared a collective moment of dread, failing to register what the Viceroy said next.

"Well, fuck me sideways–"

And then the exterior wall exploded towards them as a figure the size of a man burst through it.

"By authority of Her Imperial Highness Viceroy Euphemia, you're under arrest! Lower your weapons and submit!"

Tom blinked away the cloud of dust and harsh sunlight streaming in through what had once been a wall, and slowly identified the attacker as… some… Eleven kid half his size? "The… fuuuuck?"

Dazed by shock but hyper-aware from the adrenaline screaming through his veins, it seemed to Tom like everything was in slow motion as Harry opened fire on the Eleven with a submachine gun and a defiant yell.

Everything, that is, except for the attacker who easily dodged the incoming gunfire to one side before leaping to a wall and then rebounding off of it to knock Harry out with a flying roundhouse kick.

…wasn't he that guy with the Princess after the Purists tried that bullshit in Shibuya?

The Eleven caught Harry's weapon out of the air and casually ejected its magazine for inspection, before sliding it back into place and taking aim at Tom with a shout.

Tom looked over to Dick and saw that the new meat had already dove to the floor with his hands on his head, before his brain suddenly caught up with the situation he now found himself in. Breaking out in a cold sweat, a terrified Tom immediately stepped back and threw down his weapon. "I give up! Please don't shoot!"

There's no fighting against this kind of freak, this… this monster!

"It's natural selection time," the Eleven – Suzaku Kururugi, Tom now remembered – declared. "Whichever one of you can show me the best adaptation to this scenario might get off easy."

"We work for the Black King!" Dick cried from his place on the floor. "He's our boss, his biggest property is a big fancy casino in Asakusa that launders most of the money from drug sales! It's the Babel Tower, there's no mistaking it for anything else!"

Tom's eyes went wide as he realized his life might now be measured in seconds if he failed to compete.

"Anybody could tell you that, I've got information that he doesn't! I can give you safehouses, other business contacts!"

Kururugi narrowed his eyes, and made a show of taking aim at Tom's head. "Then why are you withholding it? Are you trying to bribe an officer of Her Highness?! Is patriotism not enough for you, scum?!"

Behind him, a rapidly-waking Harry covertly drew a Saturday Night Special from up his jacket sleeve. "That's rich coming from a filthy Eleven like you…!"

In seemingly the time it took to blink, Kururugi had turned toward the sound of Harry's voice, leaned out of the way of the incoming bullet as it was fired, and then fired a single round through Harry's forearm that left him screaming in agony as his gun went sliding across the floor.

"Britannia is my country now," Kururugi coldly replied. "And I'm getting tired of trash like you holding it back from its full potential. Now, there are two bones in your lower arm; you try something like that again and I'm taking the other one."

Point made, Kururugi turned back to Tom, and the dealer was pretty sure he'd have pissed himself on the spot if there were anything in his bladder to expel. "It's not just Tokyo," he hastily explained. "The Black King's got tentacles spreading all over the Area! Hiroshima, Nagoya, Kobe – you name any major city on this island, he's got regional managers running an operation just like the one here! There are even routes through the underground subway tunnels to sneak under the eyes of the law!"

Dick, meanwhile, recognized from the floor that he was quickly being outbid by his veteran colleague. "There's a padded room in the back where a bunch of users go to shoot up, and there's a safe behind that portrait of His Majesty over there –" Dick fearfully pointed to the thing in question, on a wall opposite Kururugi's DIY point of entry "– where shipment logs get stored before they're sent to Asakusa for review and then burned!"

Kururugi's scowl faltered for a moment as sheer indignation overtook it. "Then… let me get this straight… the two of you are telling me that Clovis allowed the Refrain trade TO OPERATE LIKE A LEGITIMATE BUSINESS?!"

"The last Viceroy gave him a ton of perks and privileges in exchange for money," Tom shouted over Dick's attempt to steal his opportunity. "In fact, the Black King was supposed to be heading out today for some resort in another Area – if you're quick, you might be able to catch him before he gets into traffic; he likes to ride around in a black stretch limo with solid gold rims and a high nobility license plate!"

As Tom proceeded to vomit out the plate number, Kururugi tapped his earpiece. "Lake Two, did you get all that?"

"Crystal clear, sir. It's on record, and the Margrave is forcing compliance from border patrol and customs to give us any related intelligence. We should have a timeline within 3-5 minutes."

"Alright. I'm taking a look at that back room and at the safe; get the Knightpolice and medics here ASAP, there's one perp with a bullet hole in his arm and an unknown number of Refrain users in need of treatment."

"They've already been summoned and should be arriving shortly."

"Copy."

Suiting words to action, Kururugi put all three Refrain dealers in restraints before stepping up to a portrait of Emperor Charles zi Britannia three times his size. "If the safe's behind it, then…"

Poking around the edges of the frame, Kururugi eventually found a slight depression where he could get an acceptable grip on it – and then braced his footing and heaved, tearing the entire thing free of its hinges and tossing it across the room, where it landed on some crates that tore through the center.

"Hey, uh, that's… that's the Emperor! …Sir!"

Kururugi didn't even pay enough attention to register which of the three had complained. "No it isn't, it's just a damn picture and there are hundreds more just like it in the world. Anything that may incidentally happen to it has no bearing on His Majesty himself. …any of you know the code to this?"

A deafening silence answered him, broken up only by Harry's pained whimpering as he cradled his shattered arm.

"...fine, then I'll just take the whole thing and have someone crack it later."

With a grunt of mild effort, he promptly punched through the wall and grabbed hold of the safe on both sides, a tungsten box the size of his chest with a dial on it, before dragging it out of its place, dropping it on the floor, and sending it skipping across the floor towards the entrance with a kick.

"Still one more thing we have to look at," Suzaku told himself. "Even if it spikes our emotions, we need a better grasp on them."

With a deep breath, he strode over to the back room and placed a hand on the doorknob.

As he forced the door open, Suzaku thought he'd been prepared for what he'd see.

He'd been wrong.

"Yes… yes, I'll marry you!"

"Oh hell yeah, I can't believe I made it through graduation!"

"Look, it's a puppy! A real puppy!"

Beaten and weathered souls wandered through the room, their minds trapped in a ghost of happiness long since gone.

But of the half-dozen or so users in the room, one in particular stole Suzaku's attention and held it hostage.

"Be careful, dear! It's dangerous to run like that!"

"You didn't make me cry, I'm crying with you. It's what people do when they share in each other's pain…"

Suzaku clenched a fist as he watched an older Japanese woman in plain clothes meander about in a simple, almost rapturous joy, his face marred by hot and bitter tears – of anger. "She played a part in driving you to this," he whispered. "And you… you don't even care as long as you can still support her in some way, do you?"

It was… it was too much for words.

Beautiful. Humbling, on some level, to realize what depths the human heart could be capable of.

And maddening, even infuriating, on others.

"I'm here for you, Kallen… I'm here for you," the woman happily proclaimed, "as I always have been!"

This poor woman puts herself through so much hell, all for Kallen's sake… and this is the only thing she can look forward to in her life?! It's bullshit… it's just so much bullshit…!

If I could have had a woman like her as a mother growing up, would I have still turned out like this?

"...it doesn't change anything now," Suzaku said with a sigh as he pushed into the room, taking digital photographs of the scene and its occupants for preliminary evidence while he waited on first responders to take over the scene. We've taken action and set the wheel of fate turning. As hard of a habit as it may be to break, we need to focus less on the past and more on the future. Short term, we pacify Area Eleven. After that, we move on to Britannia at large – and snuff out the Emperor's little tantrum while we're at it. And then, finally…

…the reformation of humanity itself.

Snapping back out of "Control, what about the media? As much as we need to get some genuine results, she also wanted us to make a show out of it."

"One second… it sounds like the Margrave is also coordinating with Hi-TV. By the time we make a move on the casino, they should have eyes in the sky ready to watch the action. That said, we're being asked to let Princess Euphemia's press conference run through its course as much as possible before we give them any cause to cut away from it."

Even if she's just talking about policy stuff, I wish I could hear her voice right now…

Suzaku let out a sigh that could have almost been a laugh. "Oh, I'm sure of that. Have they mentioned a specific timeframe?"

"The Princess's speech to inform the public of our existence and mission statement should only take another few minutes," Elle replied over the radio. "Beyond that, there's an anticipated Q&A segment that will run for up to 20 minutes but which we can more easily get away with interrupting. Unless there's anything else of note we need to do at this site, that should give us plenty of time to pack up and move against Babel Tower."

The soldier paused for an instant as the cry of blaring ambulance and Knightpolice sirens began to pierce through the room's padded walls. "Copy that, Control." Changing his frequency again, Suzaku suppressed the impulse to sigh. "Lake Two… not that I mean to cast doubt on your credibility, but you're certain these crews are reliable for our purposes?"

There was a brief pause, which Suzaku assumed was for Viletta to sigh in exasperation with his paranoia.

"Affirmative, sir. The personnel in question have all been vetted and filtered to ensure a history of Reformist-leaning affiliations or references. It isn't as thorough as would be preferred, but it's about as much as can be reasonably done on short notice."

Suzaku opened his mouth on instinct to apologize again for aggravating his ever-so-helpful colleague, before abruptly closing it and taking a moment to think through his response as he made to go back outside. "Good to know. I have to admit, it's… kind of difficult right now to extend much trust to people I haven't met."

"I think I can understand your reluctance, sir, but with all due respect you need to get used to it and fast. What you're trying to do is just too big to personally handle or even know about everything involved."

"...you're probably right," Suzaku admitted before changing frequencies yet again. "How about you, Lake Three? Holding up alright?"

"No problems so far, Lake Lead. I'll certainly be pleased to be done with this, but rest assured that I won't let you down."

Heart pounding in her chest, Euphemia met the rapt attention of Tokyo's press corps with a cool expression that most of her family would have seen through in seconds. It was so much easier to release new information or decrees from the safety of my office; I almost feel like I'm staring down a school of starving piranhas…

Still, she'd already spent a few minutes educating her populace about the true nature and severity of the Refrain problem – but Euphemia knew that explaining the way it destroyed the human mind and body, no matter how horrific, wouldn't be enough to completely convince most of her citizens of the necessity of her solution. Not when Refrain had been designed with the indigenous populace as its primary "market".

Even those Britannians who shared her moral indignation on the matter would most likely accept crushing the Refrain trade itself as "enough justice", and be content not to go further.

Such complacency… simply would not do.

And if Euphemia couldn't trust in human benevolence to ensure that her will would be carried out, then she'd appeal to pragmatism.

"I understand that by now," she continued, "a great many of you must be wondering: but how does this impact me? If only the Elevens are harmed by this, then why should I care?"

The Princess took a deep breath, imagined Suzaku standing there at her side, and stared down the imposing news cameras as she might to an unruly child. "Then let me tell you exactly why, it's because it affects each and every one of us!"

A majority of the reporters in attendance flinched at her reprimand, which gave Euphemia no small satisfaction when they had been so eagerly nodding along with her skeptical self-questioning moments earlier.

"In order for the Refrain trade to flourish in Area Eleven to the extent that it has, it needed and enjoyed the tacit approval from my predecessor's administration at several levels as yet another instrument with which to murder and oppress those denizens with ties to old Japan! This, too, is why we've reclassified Refrain as a chemical weapon – not merely because of its effects, but because that's the entire purpose for its existence! An artificial concoction sold to people as a product to sap their livelihoods, illegalized and deliberately policed in a way to obliterate what precious little freedoms they had, and designed from the ground up to wither their very souls down to nothing! All of this tying up police and administrative resources that could otherwise have been put to use on anything else that would accelerate our march on progress, while further galvanizing an entire section of our population in their completely rational discontent and hatred… to achieve nothing more than the infliction of cruelty for cruelty's sake! Does Britannia in any way become stronger or better advantaged from this?!"

A chorus of confused murmurs arose from the assembled press corps, though Euphemia caught the odd vicious grin from a few people who might have already understood where she was going and wanted to see her draw blood.

Well, the least she could do at this point would be to deliver the goods.

"If you genuinely believed for even a moment that it did," Euphemia snapped with a dramatic arm sweep for emphasis, "then now is a perfect time to realize that you were very much incorrect!"

Dead silence greeted Euphemia's proclamation, and only the red lights on the multitude of cameras assured her that she was even still being recorded – at least on her end. Still, no matter what she said, Euphemia knew that her assets were supposed to be leaning on the media and ensuring that the broadcast went uninterrupted. The Princess just had to have faith that they were pulling through and allowing her to do her work.

To challenge the Emperor's detestable meme in public consciousness, by introducing the one she and Suzaku had chosen together…

Earlier that morning…

"This – this is extremely radical material," a wide-eyed Euphemia stammered as she digested the hastily cobbled-together notes and ideas Suzaku had prepared for her. "To take and maintain a position this far from the norm is…"

"It's just taking his ideas to the next logical step," the Honorary replied with an anxious grin. "Isn't it? He wants to talk about evolution? Alright then, let's talk about evolution. He wants to spread his agenda by appealing to nature? Fine, let's throw his own words back in his face."

Standing at either side of the Princess and looking over the material were a deeply indignant Jeremiah Gottwald… "Your Highness, I must protest! Even if the Emperor permits certain freedoms of expression, what Kururugi proposes is tantamount to treason! If you deliver an address on the basis of this material–"

"It will shock the entire nation, and could potentially make you a person of interest to the entire world," noted an almost disturbingly enthusiastic Deithard Reid. "And the influence that can come from such boldness is undeniable."

The Margrave shot him a cold look. "The Princess is ultimately putting her life and honor at risk for Numbers, potentially making an enemy of the Homeland… and yet you have the audacity to stand there grinning like a fool, as though you're having the time of your life?!"

"It isn't just for the Numbers," a shaking Euphemia corrected him. "It's true that they stand to benefit the most from the proposed change of policy, but that's entirely because of how thoroughly and insistently my br– my predecessor spent the last eight years stomping on them with his boot. A rising tide lifts all boats, as they say."

The girl almost jumped in her seat when a hand touched hers, and Euphie blinked to see Suzaku leaned over the desk to meet her gaze. "I'm sorry to put this on you, and I know it's a big ask, but the bottom line is that we both know I don't have the public credibility to address the Area like this. If I make a speech – especially one like this – then I'm just an uppity Eleven that needs to be made an example of so the rest of the vermin will remember their place. But coming from you, Princess? You can get the people to listen to you. Not just because of your birth or your name, but because you're frankly a better communicator than I'll ever hope to be."

Euphie was within seconds of scolding her chosen Knight for being so distant and using her title of Princess, before she abruptly remembered that Gottwald and Reid were still in the room with them.

And judging by the looks both older men were giving her, they likely knew exactly where the girl's mind had wandered off to.

"Ah…! Ahem!" Coughing into her fist to recover a little dignity, Euphemia deliberately straightened back up. "Sir Kururugi. As much as I'm impressed and honestly even a little enamored with these plans you've drawn up, I have to admit… I can't trust that the Prime Minister will be willing to support me on this; not yet, at least, and certainly not all at once. Maybe if we could stagger it across a few years–"

"Not to interrupt," Suzaku cut in, "but I've reached out to another potential supporter with influence. This whole thing can more or less be considered an audition, but depending on how it goes – you might not need to rely entirely on the Prime Minister after this."

To prove his point, the Honorary Britannian produced an email printout consisting of his original missive to the Knight of Twelve's office, some middle-manager or other escalating it to the top as a joke, and then Lady Kruchevsky herself appearing to take it quite seriously.

Breaking out in a sweat, Euphemia swallowed. "...while I more than respect your initiative, may I kindly ask–"

Gottwald didn't feel a need to downplay his incredulity. "What in Eden prompted you to attempt contact with a Knight of the Round?!Do you have any idea how far up the chain of influence you've been trying to jump?!"

Suzaku blinked, clearly not understanding the apparent faux pas. "All I did was send a single email to her office's official public response division as directed by their own regulations. Seeing as she's the overall head of Imperial law enforcement, pretty much anyone with an email account can do that much. It's not like I snagged her personal phone number or something… I'm just as surprised it played out like this as y'all are."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Gottwald swore under his breath as Reid stared in awe at Suzaku like he'd bumped into a wild unicorn. "An Honorary Britannian like you wouldn't understand," the media man explained, "but kissing up to someone with power or influence as blatantly as you have simply isn't done by anyone with more than a modicum of sense. Do you have some kind of death wish?"

Euphemia was about to reprimand him for such an inappropriate question, but the morbid grin that briefly stole its way across Suzaku's face – like he'd just heard some marvelous inside joke – surprised her enough to let it pass.

"I got results, didn't I?"

"Kururugi, your flippant recklessness–!"

"That's enough," Euphemia pointedly said with a sigh, prompting all three men to bow or salute. "From all of you."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Seeing that order had been restored, the Princess shook her head in exasperation. "Since this can… technically be spun as an endorsement or even a mandate, then we may be able to use these private communications with the Knight of Twelve to smooth things over; at the very least, giving Lady Kruchevsky a worthy spectacle and then seeking her protection is likely our least bad option to move forward for now."

Back in the present, Princess Euphemia took a breath.

Suzaku's counting on me to make our case – and not only him, but all the powerless and disaffected of this territory! If this is something I can do, then I must see it through to the end!

Before anyone present could even dare to question her, the Princess pressed her point.

"The corrupt elements of my predecessor's administration and the supporting nobility that have allowed Refrain and other systemic cruelties like it to proliferate, stealing vitality from the Area and weakening it… to borrow The Emperor's natural metaphors, wasting away at and destroying the very ecosystem it relies on! Is the behavior of an alpha predator?! No! It's the behavior of a parasite that needs to be purged for the host organism's own health! My predecessor's system of heartless oppression for its own sake is a worthless cancer making us weaker, and I will not let it continue for one more day unaddressed!"

And now that she'd raised the problem, it was time to make a show of presenting her solution.

"And to restore that lost vitality," the Princess continued, "to nurse our territory back to health and rejuvenate it… by the authority vested in me as Viceroy by His Imperial Majesty Charles zi Britannia, I proudly follow his wisdom and look to the natural world for the solution!"

If even a single soul within the assembled press corp had given Euphemia less than their utmost attention, they certainly had changed their tune now. A heavy tension filled the air, as if time itself held its breath.

None could say with certainty what might be the next words out of her mouth, but all knew one thing without doubt.

Whatever came of it… however it turned out…

History was being made before their very eyes.

"What," Euphemia asked while privately thankful that the podium and her skirt hid her shaking legs, "is the most universally successful adaptation in the world? Why is it that of all species on Earth, humanity has emerged as the dominant one? The simple and commonly accepted explanation is our developed intelligence, but how did our ancestors survive and build on each other to lead us where we are today?"

The answer, to most of those present, was immediately evident… even if almost no Britannian would have been brave enough to say it.

Princess Euphemia, however, refused to fall in such a category! Eyes flashing like steel, she dramatically threw out a hand before her and projected every iota of authority and strength she could muster! "It's not merely that they struggled and competed against each other to develop their talents! No, our ancestors had the wisdom to band together and pool their talents! Not blindly conforming with each other to erase whatever differences may lead to conflict, but playing their different strengths in concert with each other!"

"THE ULTIMATE PATH OF NATURAL EVOLUTION IS FOUNDED NOT ON DISCRIMINATION, BUT ON COMBINATION!"

"And if it's truly our basic human nature," she continued without missing a beat, "to lose ourselves in petty squabbles and fight against each other… then I hereby issue a challenge to all my fellow Britannians! TO EVOLVE BEYOND OUR NATURE AND CRUSH IT, JUST AS WE DO TO ANY OTHER OBSTACLE!"

And just like that, the heavy tension in the atmosphere had changed to electricity, coursing through the crowd and lighting their souls on fire with possibility! This new ideal, this combination… it went so much further than even the most radical of Reformists in the Senate had dared to suggest! It was wild, scandalous even! The response from the Homeland could scarcely be imagined!

And yet… and yet, so pure was the Princess's appeal, so honest her conviction…

"Your Highness, how do you plan to make your Combination a reality?!"

"What does this mean in practical terms for the Area at large?!"

…they're positively enthralled, Euphie realized with a start. For the first time, I think I might feel as capable as Suzaku insisted I was!

Shaking her head with a smile, Euphemia continued to lay out her plan. "The earlier reclassification of Refrain as a chemical weapon and establishment of support programs for its victims was merely a first step! A great deal of work still remains to be done, with supplemental initiatives to be announced in coming days and weeks… but effective immediately, I am elevating all individuals currently called Elevens to Honorary Britannian status, with appropriate entitlement to the full legal protections and rights thereof! Furthermore, I am commissioning the redevelopment of devastated ghettos into affordable and safe community districts, with all necessary supporting infrastructure…"

"Your Highness, you're describing a massive investment! How do you intend to fund it all without compromising the military budget?!"

Euphemia smiled a smile that almost felt more appropriate on her sister's face. "As a start, we are reclaiming the wealth and vitality stolen from the Area by those lingering parasites that were discussed earlier – and to accelerate the process, in cooperation with the Prime Minister, I'm establishing an anti-corruption task force with advanced prosecutorial and investigative powers!"

To emphasize the matter, the Princess spread her arms wide as if to give a hearty welcome. "A mighty power that descends from on high to dispense justice without discrimination or hesitation! An unstoppable autonomous armed force hellbent on safeguarding our holy evolution in the name of Eden Vital!"

Tapping an earpiece through which she'd been receiving updates on Suzaku's mission out in the city, Euphemia engaged a hidden microphone and whispered a code word to move the plan into its final phase. Behind her, a giant monitor was unveiled to show the world a live news broadcast of a certain casino.

"Celestial Being! For your inaugural mission, Euphemia li Britannia commands you: conquer the Babel Tower that enshrines my predecessor's arrogance!"

On the news feed, live CCTV footage was spliced in from multiple sources to show a Sutherland with a single white pauldron rushing through the subway system, while one man in a white coat and sunglasses quickly hurried up to the casino's top floor through an emergency stairwell.

Two voices, one male and one female, both distorted by radio transmission, were momentarily spliced over the news audio in obvious direct response to Euphemia's directive.

"At once, Your Highness! Commencing armed intervention!"

Evolution is a mystery
Full of change that no one sees
Clock makes a fool of history
Yesterday's too long ago
Don't agree with what I know
Tomorrow's got no place to be...

See my reflection change
Nothing ever stays the same
But you know the name's The Game
We all know what it means
Nothing's ever what it seems
Unforgiven, unforeseen...

I see the line in the sand.
Time to find out who I am!
Looking back to see where I stand...
Evolution!
Evolution...!