August 26th, 2018. Tokyo Dome, afternoon.

Up in the arena's control box, Oldrin stared down at the broken Gloucester that had housed one of the Empire's most famous ace pilots just moments ago. "...okay, I guess Sir Kururugi did make good on that absurd boast of his," she admitted with a faint dusting of red on her cheeks at being so easily proven incorrect.

Having seen enough to satisfy him for a moment, Lenard stepped back from the glass and sat in a folding chair Lloyd had set out for him. "It's as I thought from the footage at Shibuya. There's no doubt in my mind, that that young man is Closer to Eden – the kind of instinctive combat genius who only appears a handful of times every century. More than that, he seems aware enough of his inexperience to try and pick away at his opponents mentally… worming his way into their minds, pulling them out of their pace and into his own."

Merrybell found that insight especially interesting, and leaned in her seat toward the old man. "Are you suggesting that he might be some manner of invincible duelist, then?"

"Absolutely nothing of the sort," Lenard huffed with a sad laugh. "It's not a bad tactic, but his inexperience leads me to believe he'll become too reliant on it as a crutch… if he hasn't already. If he isn't careful, the day he meets a foe he can't compromise in such a way is likely to be his last."

"Dad! You shouldn't say stuff like that!"

"He's saying it because it's still early enough that we can take steps to mitigate that possibility moving forward," Cecile said with a comforting pat on her coworker's arm. "For now, we just have to believe in Suzaku and trust him."

Elle frowned, but didn't argue the point, and instead returned her focus to her live readouts of the Lancelot's performance data.

A few minutes earlier...

Tink Lockhart was sweating like a pig in his cockpit, steadily wearing down from the pressure of having to fend off both Bart and David Darlton at once. Individually, he was fairly confident in being able to defeat either of the pair… but the brothers' teamwork was vicious and methodical, alternating their attacks with such perfect timing that any attempt Tink could make to go on the offensive himself would have only transformed him from a target into a vulnerable target.

Schnee had surged into the fray just a few minutes in, desperate to prove himself and regain some face after the disaster of his introduction earlier with an insistence that the bluest blood should be the first that was shed… and had promptly been the first elimination. So at least the kid was living up to his ideals.

Reed had then been forced to drop to ground level to stop Edgar Darlton from breaching the warehouse, while Sokkia was tied up in a gun duel with Alfred, leaving Viletta to play sniper tag with Claudio.

"I know half our teammates are rookies and literally just came in yesterday," Sokkia laughed over a private channel, "but these Celestial Being guys really don't have their act together, do they? It's almost like when wewere still getting our feet wet in the Glindas!"

Parrying a debilitating stun tonfa with his own, Tink barely had enough spare mental energy to consider what his teammate was saying. "Maybe," he admitted while ducking back from a "but Kururugi isn't remotely as capable a leader as Princess Merrybell."

Sokkia grinned, even as a spray of paint rounds hit her Sutherland's shoulder and the training OS ejected the limb in question. "Of course he isn't, silly! He's just some rookie, he hasn't spent years training and studying to be in charge like our Princess; that just means he's still got a lot of growing up to do!"

"And then you fell... and now there's nobody left standing between me and the Princess you're sworn to serve."

The unexpected declaration on public comms shot through both teams like wildfire, the Glastons freezing up in shock at the news of Guilford's defeat – creating a perfect opportunity for Tink to break the head clean off of David's Sutherland, while Sokkia and Alfred scored a mutual kill on each other.

Before Tink could start to celebrate the elimination of two of the opposing team, however, his tactical display alerted him to Reed's defeat in the warehouse. "Man, they're really making us work for it…!"

"Damn it! Lockhart," Viletta ordered, "just stay focused on surviving! I need to go down and stop Edgar from getting further into the warehouse!"

So back to business as usual, Tink tiredly thought to himself, just before Claudio recolored his Sutherland's head with a paint round and eliminated him.

"Great job man," Bart crowed with a sigh of relief. "Now let's get in there and finish this-"

"You've done well against a pair of utter greenhorns and young soldiers outside of their usual team," a deep and commanding voice boomed over the comms. "But I think you've had things too easy up until now!"

A pristine new Sutherland rolled into the arena, threateningly beating its stun tonfas together. "COME OVER HERE AND FACE A VETERAN WARRIOR, GLASTON KNIGHTS!" its pilot commaned. "FACE JEREMIAH GOTTWALD!"

Back on the other side of the arena, Cornelia's custom-specced Gloucester was forcing the Lancelot to dance around and evade a rapid flurry of stabs. "I'll give you one thing," she declared with a grin. "The fact that you can even control a machine capable of such sharp and sensitive movements speaks well of your ability!"

Its cape fluttering about majestically in the ebb and flow of battle, the Gloucester spun with a low sweep for the Lancelot's legs. Not able to roll back quickly enough, the Lancelot hopped over the swing – and right into a kick from the Gloucester that sent it flying back. "And yet as proven by your little stunt with that energy shield, you wouldn't stand a chance without it! You don't have the experience or ability to fight a true warrior on even terms!"

Somersaulting along the ground in spite of the protruding cockpit block and landing back on its feet in a three-point stance, the Lancelot skidded to a stop and raised its head to stare at Cornelia. "First off," Suzaku replied, "the experience gap means there's no such thing as a fight on even terms between us. My tech advantage helps to balance out your experience advantage. And secondly...I do have the Lancelot, though, so who cares?"

The Lancelot attempted to speed away, only to have to dodge a Slash Harken instead – and then to have to duck beneath another spear thrust. "It's ironic that although Guilford spoke of humbling you, he was just in need of it himself," Cornelia admitted. "But I've seen through your pathetic little games, Eleven! Thinking you can run back to your teammates now that your final member's arrived, doubtless hoping to have your sniper take me out – are you truly so bankrupt of pride?! Of dignity as a warrior?!"

Bent over backwards like a limbo competitor, the Lancelot revved up a landspinner and committed to a backflip on the spot rather than try to regain its balance – and earned some breathing room when it knocked the Gloucester back with a kick in doing so. "I may have humored Guilford earlier, but in case you forgot, this is a team exercise, not a duel! In a real fight, it's just common sense that I'd care more about protecting my squad's lives than some stupid thing like pride! Exactly what behavior are you thinking I'm supposed to be ashamed of, here?"

Skidding back to where Guilford's defeated Gloucester lay useless on the ground, Cornelia's Knightmare kicked his lance up into the air and took hold of it in its off hand before spinning her dual weapons with an elegant flourish. "You picked this fight with me, Kururugi! Stop trying to hide behind your subordinates and come finish it!"

"Well I was going to," Suzaku mocked, "but you won't let me disengage—ngh!"

The Lancelot had barely raised an arm in time with its Blaze Luminous engaged to block Cornelia's heavy overhead swing, the concrete beneath the machines beginning to crack from the force behind her attack.

Seizing an opportunity to really go on the offensive, the Witch of Britannia abandoned any further pretense of civility and just started hammering away at her opponent with one lance after the other. "You insufferable cretin!"

Slam! "Even when something valid and true leaves your mouth-!"

Slam! "Your attitude is nothing short of contemptible!"

Slam! "You're too flippant and uncouth to be worthy of a Knight's title!"

Slam! "Too smug and self-satisfied to be worth anything as a soldier!"

Slam! "And too ashamed of combat to be acknowledged as a warrior! Too busy trying to hide behind literal and metaphorical shields to get up and fight for the people and ideals you claim to cherish!"

Catch. "You're right about one thing," Suzaku admitted, the Lancelot having been forced to one knee from Cornelia's onslaught. "I'm not much cut out for being a Knight, or a Soldier, or a Warrior."

After a moment's difficulty in prying her machine free of Lancelot's grip around the Gloucester's wrist, Cornelia tried instead to bludgeon him with the other lance next while an apparent opening had presented itself.

Catch. The Lancelot looked up to make 'eye contact' with the Gloucester, its green optics flashing pink for a fraction of a second. "So at that rate," he continued, mouth curling up in a twisted grin. "I guess I'll just content myself with being a Machine."

In the moment, Cornelia was less concerned with whatever fresh nonsense the boy was peddling to her than with having both of her arms in enemy control. So her Gloucester dove in and headbutted the Lancelot, causing a spray of sparks on contact.

"An unstoppable, implacable machine..."

The unorthodox hit didn't stun or evenappear to phase her opponent like she'd expected, so Cornelia grit her teeth and raised an armored boot to stomp on the Lancelot's chest in hopes of kicking it away. "Stop prattling and kneel, you rotten knave!"

Utterly uncaring of the dents steadily forming on its torso armor, the Lancelot abruptly began to power back to its feet while the Gloucester was off-balance. In the cockpit, its pilot seemed equally uncaring or even unaware of Cornelia's command to submit. "Purpose built to crush any obstacle that stands before my Princess!"

In the half-second that Cornelia's Gloucester hung limply in the air from being shoved back, the Lancelot finally let go of its opponents wrists and spun around for a roundhouse kick that sent it flying into the thick barricade of concrete and steel that separate the arena's track from the stands. "I DON'T GIVE A DAMN IF IT'S THE PUREBLOODS!"

Cornelia grunted as she pinballed between the back of her seat and her safety restraint, before her eyes widened and raised one of her lances to knock away a fist that would've beheaded her machine. "OR ZERO!"

Needing room to breathe, Cornelia fired her slash harkens as a means to create some separation and regain her pace… only for the Lancelot to dodge around her shots and then catch her retractable cables. "OR EVEN YOU! ANYONE THAT GETS IN EUPHEMIA'S WAY, I'LL FLATTEN AND TURN INTO AN OLD MEMORY!"

As Lancelot yanked on the Gloucester's harken cables to pull it in close, Cornelia... grinned in spite of herself, and fired up her winch motors in response. "SO YOU'VE FINALLY FOUND SOME FIGHT IN YOU AFTER ALL, YOU WRETCHED ELEVEN?! IT'S ABOUT BLOODY TIME!"

Almost flying into melee range from the combined momentum, Cornelia aimed to run a spear through the Lancelot's head – and missed by inches as it ducked to one side. The two machines were entirely too close in that moment for either to launch another effective strike on the other… but the Honorary Britannian found a way, hooking the Lancelot's elbow around the Gloucester's waist and throwing it several meters away with one arm.

"Number this, Eleven that!" Suzaku jeered. "For a real bleeding-edge piece of hardware, your programming's so out-of-date it's embarrassing!"

Landing on her feet with a truly expert display of dexterity, Cornelia narrowed her eyes. "Hardware…? Programming...? Are you so brokenly delusional now that you can't identify a human when you see one?!"

In response, the Lancelot made a show of bashing its fists together. "Don't know, don't care! All you need to concern yourself with is that I'm gonna update you and any other defective product I come across in the only way people like you understand!"

Cornelia snarled in her cockpit, the world in her vision starting to flash red at her lowly opponent's insolent mockery of her prowess, of her existence.

Landspinners revving, the Lancelot charged for the Gloucester, both of its forearm harkens extended. "I'LL BEAT YOU OLDTYPES INTO THE NEXT EVOLUTIONARY STAGE, AND I'LL DO IT THE BRITANNIAN WAY! WITH OVERWHELMING POWER!"

It was at that moment that Cornelia had an epiphany. "You keep talking like you're going to change Britannia itself. You're not even a commoner, just a conquered number… you think you're just going to step onto the world stage out of nowhere and make everyone acknowledge you?!"

With a howl of absolute rage, Cornelia tossed one of her spears at her opponent – and when the Lancelot batted it aside with a forearm, she was waiting right behind it to capitalize by tackling the white KMF to the ground with her Gloucester.

Straddling the Lancelot's waist, Cornelia dropped her other lance and proceeded to just haul off with her machine's fists, warping and denting the 7th-gen Knightmare's armor with each successive blow as white-hot sparks scattered from each savage impact. "YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING TO BE THE NEXT MARIANNE VI BRITANNIA?! AN ARROGANT, COCKSURE BRAT LIKE YOU WITH NO RESPECT OR CLASS?! NOT ON EITHER OF OUR LIVES!"

"The next Marianne…?! Don't be… so fucking stupid," Suzaku spat.

The Lancelot reared back to throw a counter-punch, which Cornelia saw coming from a mile away and moved to deflect with her Gloucester's arm.

But she didn't expect the attached harken booster to fire its rockets without disengaging its safety locks, rapidly accelerating the punch beyond her ability to react and slamming her Gloucester off of the Lancelot, the extended harken shearing away much of its chest armor with a screech of metal.

Kipping back up to its feet, the Lancelot promptly fired its thigh harkens to amputate the Gloucester at the knees, before hooking what remained of the 6th-gen custom and hauling it back into grappling range. "Don't go thinking I'm a knockoff of some dead has-been!" Suzaku snarled, slamming the Gloucester into the ground and then stomping on it for emphasis. "You're dealing with the first and only Suzaku Kururugi, AND DON'T YOU EVER FORGET IT!"

Lancelot stomped on the Gloucester again, this time with enough force that the cockpit ejection system activated and sent Cornelia flying helplessly into the stands.

"He… he beat me," she whispered in disbelief, still able to, for lack of a better word, feel… whatever it was that had been fueling her opponent's attacks.

It wasn't the raw intent to kill she was used to getting from her enemies, nor the pure thirst for battle she worked hard to perfect in herself and to instill in her subordinates. No, the fervor in those strikes… that kind of zeal came from devotion to a cause. For a purpose one placed higher than themselves.

It only took Cornelia a few seconds to realize why she'd been so easily infuriated in this battle, even moreso than her enemy's open disdain for herself and for the woman she still idolized. The true reason, beyond his poor attitude, that she absolutely had not been able to stand him. Biting back a scream of frustration, Cornelia pulled out her phone.

I still don't like him at all, she wrote. ...but I've no other choice than to acknowledge that you mean almost as much to him as you do to me.

The reply wasn't nearly as immediate as the Witch of Britannia would have liked, but her face and heart softened when it eventually did come in.

I still love you too, sister. Even as much as you frustrate me sometimes.

Up in the control box, Euphemia was staring down at the mechanical carnage below in horror. "Suzaku, I never imagined he could be so… what's come over him?"

"Ugh," Elle groaned into her hands. "Looks like the General's mouthing off apparently has him starting to relapse…"

"Relapsing?" Cecile asked, her tone sharp.

Mindful of how many other people were in the room, Elle sighed before sharing a glance with her older coworker. "Remember the story I told you last night? And the conversation we had with him immediately after?"

Cecile's eyes narrowed, her mouth setting in a thin line. "Then we've got our work cut out for us again," she whispered.

"...he called himself a machine," Merrybell quietly noted. "For someone as important as we're making him, that's… worrying."

Euphemia shook her head, tears of heartbreak threatening to spill over. "It's not just that, but the way he said it… you haven't known him long enough to realize it, but the tone in Suzaku's voice when he ran wild like that…"

The Viceroy choked back a sob. "I've never heard him sound so comfortable, so… free."

With General Cornelia defeated and the wargame over, Elle opened an audio channel to the Lancelot. "Hey, Suzakkun, that last fight looked like it got pretty rough. How are you holding up?"

"...like I was looking at life through a filter without fully realizing it, and it's finally been stripped away," came the eventual reply. "Or like I had some rusted gear that wasn't aligned quite right, and it just got smacked back into its proper place…"

Yep, that's a contented smile in his voice if I've ever heard one. "So, ah, not to change the subject out of nowhere, but do you happen to remember the conversation we had last night?"

It took a moment for Suzaku to respond, but when he did, his tone had softened. "...I guess that little outburst of mine must've worried you and the others, right? Look, I know my programming isn't exactly optimal right now, but… can I ask you all to bear with it for now? Framing the world this way is just… easier for me, in the short term."

Elle bit her lip. "I can let it slide for a while, but… do you know have any idea how short a term we're talking about?"

"Probably longer than you or anyone else is going to like," Suzaku admitted.

"Pff, at least you're honest about that… look, we'll talk more about it later. For now, let's just get ready to head back home. And, hey! Congrats on beating Cornelia!"

In the Lancelot's cockpit, Suzaku let out a sigh and shook some sweat out of our hair while I took a few seconds to think about how worried the gals probably are about our outburst earlier.

"Since some of us are starting to chit-chat in class," Darlton announced over the public comms, "I think it's time to officially wrap up this little field trip. Some of you have demonstrated clear room for improvement today, and I expect you to take your homework adapting to those shortcomings seriously. All that said – Celestial Being wins by attrition, with two men left standing! Now all of you pack up and RTB for a hard-earned break, that's an order!"

We did it. We… really beat Cornelia.

Holy shit is an appropriate reaction, dude, it's okay for you to say it.

Just as the adrenaline flowing into our brain starts to recede, the comms crackle and sputter as a new line connects in to the channel.

"I'm going to have to ask that you belay that," a slimy voice interrupts. "Our Honorary Britannian friend put on such a splendid show, after all…"

Yet another customized Gloucester rolls into the arena through the entrance Cornelia's team must have used, again with a fancy cape – but this time carrying a wicked-looking dagger and a much thinner lance than we'd gotten used to dealing with.

From its external speakers, Luciano Bradley's voice soft and sinister echoes across the field. "I just can't help myself but to ask for an encore. You wouldn't mind humoring a guest, would you boy?"

And here it is. The completely expected 'surprise' true final boss.

I should have worked harder to stop Cornelia from getting us so riled up, Suzaku thinks with a scowl. We're already fatigued from fighting her, to say nothing of the damage and energy loss Lancelot sustained in the process…!

Switching our comms back to public for a moment, I learn forward and ask, "No, Sir Bradley, I don't have any problems fulfilling your request – do you mind if I share a few… last words with my team first, to ensure I'm free of distractions and can give you the fight a Knight of the Round deserves on such short notice?"

"HA! That was a pretty nice deadpan, kid! Never imagined I'd find someone in this glorified backwater with somewit I can appreciate;by all means," the Vampire 'graciously' allows. "Take a few minutes alone with your comrades. Pour your heart out onto the airwaves for them!"

Bradley's Gloucester hunches slightly, like a ravenous animal waiting for its chance to pounce. "I'll be right here, waiting for you."

With that, Suzaku changes our comms back to the unit command frequency. "Alright Viletta, you know what to do – and keep an extra eye on the kids heading home, will you?"

Viletta's image on our screen rolls her eyes with a scoff. "Yes, sir. ...oh, and Offen asked for a moment of your time, if you have any to spare."

It takes a moment for the last name to register, before Suzaku's eyes widen. "Uh, sure, go ahead and patch him through."

A moment later, Viletta's stoic face disappears and is replaced by the noble son from Idaho. In contrast to his fiery indignation from earlier, the kid looks outright humiliated, teeth clenched like he's trying not to scream... or maybe to keep himself from crying.

He's totally drenched in sweat… but hey, so are we.

"What's on your mind, kid? In case you haven't noticed, I've got a few other pans on the stove that need dealt with, so let's make it quick."

Flinching almost like he'd been hit, Schnee visibly bites the inside of his cheek… and then bows his head. "Sir Kururugi," he begins, "I… my behavior earlier was nothing short of an abject disgrace. I thought your hesitation in disciplining me was an affirmation of weakness or ignorance on your part, but… I realize now the truth. You bested two of the Empire's very finest in single combat, while I… I was the first one eliminated, not just on our team but on either side, helpless but to watch like garbage on the side of the road while everyone else kept fighting. You didn't use a stronger hand on my insubordination because you were weak, but because you could tell at a glance that I was too pathetic to warrant it. Once I return to base, I'll draw up my resignation-"

"Rejected," we tell him flatly. "There's only one man in Celestial Being who's allowed to muddle through life in shame and self-hatred, and that's me. Don't take your experience today as a sign that you're worthless, take it as an indication of how much stronger you can get if you keep trying – oh, and whoever told you the bluest blood is meant to be the first that's shed? That's a nice sentiment and all and I actually kind of approve of it, but it needs balanced out with the realization that a soldier's job is not to die for their country."

Wide-eyed in shock at our shutting down his trademark infringement on our angst-dwelling and quickly rolling past it, Schnee sputters and stumbles over his words for a few seconds. "W-well with all due respect, Sir, what the hell is it then?!"

"It's to make the other poor bastard die for theirs," I quote, before Suzaku turns him off and switches our comms channel back to ASEEC. "Elle, I need to ask you to pass something along for me to the others. Is that alright?"

The redhead bites her lip and looks away, before beckoning someone over while changing some stuff on her keyboard. "Alright, Suzaku. I've got Cecile and Princess Euphemia patched into our line privately, and I can bring Lloyd in too if need be."

As the other ladies crowd around Elle to fit in the screen together, Suzaku takes a deep breath, and lets it out.

And then I do the same, the invisible clock that is our next opponent's patience metaphorically ticking in the background. "Elle, Cecile? You two already heard a version of this last night, but I want to say it again. Not just for Euphie's benefit, but for you again as well. The bottom line is… love isn't something I really feel qualified to discuss. For the most recent half of my life, I'm not used to getting it, and I think sometimes it borders on a miracle that I can even recognize it when I see it. Call it a software patch I'm trying to confirm compatibility with, if you want. But all the same, I've only known each of you for about a week or so… and in that time, you've become irreplaceable to me. I've known for most of my life that I'm damaged goods – please let me finish – and the patience you've all shown me… the kindness and affection… it means more to me than I've got words for."

Elle shakes her head with a soft groan, smiling a little in spite of herself. "Suzaku, I appreciate you trying to reinforce to me... to us, how much you care, but I really don't think this is the best time."

"It's usually considered bad luck to talk about the future right before a battle," Cecile agrees with a solemn nod. "I'm not superstitious, but I am becoming deeply concerned for you…"

And of course they're getting the wrong goddamn idea…!

Suzaku's fists clench, and I unclench them. "Look, you three, I swear I'm not bringing this up to raise a death flag, or for the sake of being dramatic. I just... I'm just trying to – also kind of almost trying to reinforce to myself what I'm fighting for. That I've got a home worth coming back to. That even a fucked up broken machine like me can be repaired."

Euphemia practically dives toward the screen like she's trying to hold us, eyes wide with worry. "That last thing you said, do you truly believe it?! That even for someone as low as you mistakenly think you are, there's hope?"

"Cecile Croomy… Mariel Lubie… Euphemia li Britannia… when I'm with you, I-"

"TIME'S UP!"

The malignant laugh cutting across our comms is only just enough warning for Suzaku to juke the Lancelot to one side, our screen switching back to the external cameras just in time to catch Bradley's Gloucester drive its speartip into the concrete we'd been standing on. "I didn't think a Knight of the Round would stoop to sucker-punching!"

The Gloucester – this one in colors of lilac and yellow, similar to the Percival he got to use in R2 – retrieves its spear before also drawing a jagged-edged dagger in a reverse grip. "Suzaku Kururugi, isn't it? You know, I made it a point of pride for years that I never learned the name of any filthy Numbers… but you?!"

The Vampire chuckles, his machine slowly stalking to our left. "Oh, you're as annoying as you are interesting. I thought from our meeting last night that you were just another impotent, blindly bitter Eleven… but then I got to see how you put that four-eyed ponce in his place; how you took our most renowned General's love taps and then gave them back to her in kind."

I don't know what's going to come out of that vermin's mouth next, but I can practically see him licking his lips like a slobbering coyote even without an actual face-to-face video feed.

Ugh… partner, sometimes that vivid imagination of yours is a real curse...

The Gloucester lunges with another spear thrust, and Suzaku starts to fire up the right arm's Blaze Luminous… only to spot a report of circuitry damage in the system at the last second and instead have to parry it aside with his arm harken.

"You're not upset with me for suddenly attacking while you were chatting," Bradley continues with an audible grin, flowing into a rapid flurry of spear thrusts.

Suzaku cusses aloud as the pressure mounts, pushing me further into the back seat of our mind as he desperately uses both arms to fend off the onslaught while Lancelot tries reversing out of our enemy's stabbing range. "I swear a third of these are feints, but it's all I can do to tell them from the real attacks!"

Bradley, that fucker, is clearly enjoying himself. "I'm rather impressed thatyou're not like the pompous, aristocratic garbage His Majesty fills our military with! You've seen the truth – that war's about life and death, not some miserable self-fellating sense of pride! That's why you're upset with yourself for leaving me such an exploitable opening – as a real pilot should be!"

Well, he's not wrong on that point!

Broken clocks are right twice a day – I should know, I spent half my life holding onto one!

Abruptly, Suzaku sees an opening in Bradley's assault, and instinctively dives in to take advantage of it – only for the fancy Gloucester to trap the Lancelot in an armbar and jam its dagger into the harken booster's docking port, destroying its internal winch and then prying it completely loose as a hunk of expensive scrap.

"You call yourself a machine, boy, and that's just not true! That burning hatred inside, pushing you towards your full potential… you're a wild beast pulling at the end of its leash if I've ever seen one!"

Before either of us can react, the Gloucester shoves Lancelot forward as if to signal the start of the next round. "But every time you start to chew through your collar," Bradley says with an air of… is that lament in his voice?! "That pink Princess gives you a pet on the nose, and then you calm down. You get weak. You're like the kind of werewolf who spends twenty-nine days and nights every month feeling sorry for himself and cowering with his tail between his legs!"

Spinning his spear with a flourish, Bradley lets out a truly diabolical laugh. "But oh man, when that full moon comes out – you could almost be worth taking on as a protege! I mean, you're already a disgusting animal as an Eleven, so why not embrace that?! You'd be worth so much more if you just learned to stop worrying and love the carnage!"

"So in other words," Suzaku asks as he takes the momentary breather to check our system readouts, "bloodlust is really the only thing you care about or respect, isn't it?"

Energy filler's already down to 30%?! Damn, I need to stop relying so much on Blaze Luminous in serious fights like this; the right arm projector got fucked when he tore off the harken booster, and each arm has limits for how much energy transference it can handle…

I mean, to be fair? You've also been insistent on fighting with your bare hands up to this point. It made sense against Guilford and Cornelia because we were trying to limit how much information about our style and performance Bradley could get beforehand in case he attacked… but we've crossed that bridge now.

Suzaku stiffens, but relents with a sigh. Yeah… you're right. Part of me was still hoping it wouldn't come to this, given what happened the other day, but… time's run out.

With a heavy heart, Suzaku raises the Lancelot's hands… and grips them tightly around the handles of its back-mounted Maser Vibration Swords.

Suddenly, we're not piloting the Lancelot anymore.

We're not standing across Luciano Bradley in his fancy super Gloucester, in front of a VIP audience at the Tokyo Dome.

Instead, we're trapped again in the body of a young boy standing on a polished hardwood floor in his socks and training clothes, judged by a strict old samurai with sharp eyes.

Tohdoh draws his bokken, the motion comforting in its familiarity. A master's unspoken promise to observe and watch over his student's journey through life.

I force our eyes back open, and the memory shudders and gives way to the crushing weight of reality.

That world is gone.

Suzaku howls, and our Geass abruptly flares back to life as the Lancelot draws both of its Britannian longswords.

Visions of other worlds and lives play out all around us… of peaceful times, of histories where the invasion never happened.

...where the promise wasn't broken.

With a grunt, I force our attention onto the enemy in front of us, and the surrounding kaleidoscope of possibilities refocus into a hall of funhouse mirrors reflecting the fight.

Hundreds of potential future outcomes lay out before us.

...and in all of them, we die.

Fuck those futures then, we're making our own.

"Cornelia was right about one thing," I admit over the public comms. "I don't meet the qualifications for a knight. But even so, I at least know what they are! And you, you miserable vermin…"

The Lancelot points the sword in its right hand at Bradley, its normally verdant eyes flashing a sharp and vibrant purple. "You rate even lower than me."

Up in the stadium control box, Elle looked over her shoulder. "Lloyd," she called out, voice sharp with slowly rising panic, "what the hell is this new readout...?!"

"I've never seen this before either," Cecile whispered, eyes narrowed.

Leaning over their shoulders, the silver-haired scientist watched the display of Lancelot's diagnostic and performance metrics, his eyes completely hidden behind the reflected glare of the computer screen. "Some people would call it Pandora's Box," he quipped. "I call it a belated birthday present."

Across the room, an ashen-faced Lenard turned and met Lloyd's gaze. "You really went and opened it…"

If Lloyd had been manically whooping and hollering over his success, it would have been improper but expected, perhaps even reassuring.

But the warm, proud smile he gave Lenard instead… like a son giving his father a gift he'd worked hard on for months… chilled him.

"I finally proved you were right, old man."

Back on the ground, Bradley shook his head with a sigh. "And there you go again, cowering like a whipped dog behind civil pretenses the moment you get uncomfortable with yourself. You don't even realize what a shame it is – that even though you're so close, you just haven't figured out WHAT PEOPLE VALUE MOST!"

The Gloucester swooped in, spear high as he sped in planning to mask his killing blow with a few feints...

...only for Suzaku to laugh. "Oh my God," he drawled, "please tell me it's not something stupid and edgy like 'their own li~ves'!"

The Knight of Ten faltered in his charge and backpedaled his Gloucester immediately, as shocked by the opponent predicting the other half of his catchphrase as by the sheer mocking disdain it was delivered with.

Good for him that he'd aborted the attack, as one of the Lancelot's swords bisected his spear handle and rendered it effectively useless, barely coming close enough to scratch the Gloucester's paint on its chest.

Wha… what the hell just–? Am I… sweating?

The Lancelot advanced, then – walking, rather than rolling with its landspinners, its violet eyes seeming to pin Bradley in place. "Riddle me this, then, Genius… what kind of fucking idiot would pick a career where they can die at any moment if their own life were really their top priority? It'd make more sense if they chose to be an accountant! Or a botanist! Or a movie critic!"

Discarding his useless spear, Bradley's Gloucester drew a short sword from a back-mounted sheath hidden under its cape. "That aggression you showed fighting Cornelia," he realized. "That wasn't a hunger to kill like I first thought… that was sheer reckless abandon… you actually want to to die in that cockpit…!"

For the first time in his career, Bradley stepped back from a foe despite not being under immediate attack.

"I fight because I believe in something important enough to die for… and you? What motivates you enough to get out of bed every day and risk your life in your Knightmare? Don't bother answering," Suzaku spat. "You brag about stealing from those too weak to fight back... their lives, their dignity, their peace of mind…! I bet you think you're some big incarnation of death and destruction, but the bottom line is that a trained monkey can fill your shoes with no problem. You're nothing but a murdering parasite that makes the world a worse place for everyone with every second you're in it!"

Slamming its landspinners back onto the concrete, the contact transfer circuits on the Lancelot's hands lit up… and the twin MVS blades came to life, gleaming a bright red and humming a song of judgment as Bradley's eyes widened.

"Oh fuck, they finished the MVS?!"

"In accordance with the responsibilities given me by Viceroy Euphemia… Celestial Being! COMMENCE ARMED INTERVENTION ON LUCIANO BRADLEY!"

In the time it took Bradley to process what was happening, the Lancelot had already closed the remaining distance and casually sheared through his Gloucester's sword with a slash, rendering it a useless scrap of metal. "A knight is sworn to valor!"

Such speed… it didn't show anything like this earlier! "I… I'm a Genius! The Vampire! I won't let my life be taken by some filthy Number!"

Bradley attempted to regain some distance, and unexpectedly found his wish granted… in the form of a kick that caved in the side of his Gloucester and sent him spinning halfway across the arena. "His heart knows only virtue!"

"V-VALKYRIES! GET DOWN HERE AND PROTECT YOUR COMMANDER NOW!"

Up in the VIP box, Tink Lockhart and Jeremiah Gottwald kicked down the door as the rest of Suzaku's wargame teammates followed in behind, all of them equipped with automatic weapons. "I suggest the four of you calmly stay put and let this play out," Viletta commanded on instinct, before abruptly softening when she saw the weeping relief on Lacey's face.

"Th-thank you, so much…"

Back in the arena, the Gloucester hastily got back to its proper upright position… just in time for the Lancelot to cleave off its arm with an MVS. "His blade defends the helpless!"

"You… you can't do this to me! I'm the Knight of Ten! The King's Executioner! I have a direct line to Sir Waldstein – even to His Majesty himself!"

If anything, that might have been the exact wrong thing to say in light of the Lancelot slamming the hunched-over Gloucester back to its feet with a savage knee, before promptly taking away its other arm. "His might upholds the weak!"

"I can give you anything you want! Money! Fame! Power! Women! Even a spot on the Rounds! Just… just so long as you spare my life!"

A headbutt sent the Gloucester reeling back as the unprepared Bradley bounced his head against his console, blood starting to pour down the side of his face. "His word speaks only truth!"

It was at that moment, that Bradley truly understood.

The hate in Kururugi's eyes the night before… it had been a warning that the boy had seen right through his manufactured reputation immediately.

And now here the Knight of Ten was, trembling in terror as the hands of the clock ticked ever forward.

In a regressive, ill-controlled backwater Area outside the protective umbrella of his masters.

Beyond the help of his subordinates.

With no dark shadows left to hide in.

And no safe haven left to run to.

Out of time.

Exposed.

CORNERED.

"Not like this…! NOT LIKE THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISS!"

"HIS WRATH. UNDOES. THE WICKED."

Lancelot charged in close and swings both MVS blades through the Gloucester's chest and waist, breaching its reactor and melting the cockpit at the same time, before sliding right past as if the target had been intangible.

A moment later, the sakuradite in the machine detonated, rocking the arena with a fiery explosion as a faintly visible pressure wave buffeted the empty seats.

As the assembled onlookers in both the control room and the VIP box looked on in varying degrees of stunned awe or dread, the Lancelot turned and spread its arms in challenge, MVS blades gleaming in the light of the lingering blaze behind it.

"WHO'S NEXT?!"