August 31th, 2018. Pendragon.

"Suzaku Kururugi," a voice intones from above. "Do you understand why you've been summoned here?"

Shortly after landing in the capital, a taxi picked us up and brought us to a massive underground bunker that seems to be used for some kind of battle arena. A blank sea of concrete expands out from us for half mile in every direction, with the distant walls coming up in a shallow dome that tops out a quarter of a mile above our heads.

Final Destination. No items. Fox only.

"I have a working theory based on what I've observed," Suzaku replies. "Isn't it because you sent a thug of a rapist to cause trouble for my Princess? And because when he tried to murder me during a training exercise, I sent him back to you in a matchbox?"

"These allegations again… even after coming all this way, it seems you still fail to realize that Luciano Bradley is not the one on trial here."

Standing on guard at equidistant intervals around the perimeter of the arena are a set of gleaming, ceremonially armored Gloucesters.

Straight ahead of us is the Knight of Twelve, Monica Kruchevsky.

Looks like her claim of putting us on the Rounds either fell short, or was bullshit from the start.

Honestly, we probably should've treated her as a prospective enemy all along… she's a Round just like the rest of these people; how unaware of Bradley's crimes can she really have possibly been?

With Monica at our twelve o'clock, behind us stands the Knight of Five; some guy I've never heard of.

Norland von Luneberg… he's been a Knight of the Round for a while, but he's pretty adamant about staying in the background – to the point that it's not uncommon for people to forget he's even there, despite his rank.

I don't like being so ignorant about a potential threat… especially not when his bulk and his chin remind me so much of the Emperor. A quick Geass should give us at least something to go on here –

Not yet, partner. We can't afford the distraction of a potential information overload right now.

Later, then?

We can look into it on the flight back to Area 11 if there's not too much else demanding our attention.

To our right is another target I'm not terribly familiar with, though her I've at least heard of – Dorothea Ernst, the Knight of Four.

Can't help you much with her, either…

Damn it, Suzaku! You lazy! Complacent! Idiot!

Got me there…

Knight of Three, Gino Weinberg, stands opposite of Dorothea… fittingly enough, I guess, at our three o'clock. Makes me wonder how intentional it is that Monica's at our twelve?

If Lord Waldstein had that kind of sense of humor, then the Knights of Six and Nine would be here instead of Four and Five.

Speaking of Waldstein, that bastard hasn't even seen fit to show his face yet; only presiding over the situation via audio comms.

"I will say it again," he intones through the radio. "You, Suzaku Kururugi, stand accused of murdering the Knight of Ten by an act of sabotage on his personal Knightmare Frame. As the Knights of the Round are direct agents of His Majesty's will, this act also constitutes the crime of High Treason against the crown. With the warning that any further outbursts or smart remarks will be taken as contempt… how do you plead?"

Fucking bastard won't accept the Valkyries' testimony of all the heinous shit he did, even though it had to have been deeply traumatic for them to talk about it…!

Save your indignation for when we can use it, Suzaku says with the mental equivalent of a pat on the shoulder. Just leave this to me for now.

With that, two words leave our mouth with a confidence I don't think I could have projected myself.

"Not guilty."

"Interesting. You deny responsibility in the slaying of Luciano Bradley?"

"That is not what I said."

"Your tone has improved… explain, then."

"I deny the accusation that I in any way sabotaged his Knightmare. Luciano Bradley attacked me without provocation, without warning, and with obvious intent to kill during a training exercise that was explicitly meant to give the Knights of the Round the information we had been told you were in search of. As my life is no longer entirely mine to do with as I please, I fought back to defend it."

"So you claim strength enough to have defeated a Knight of the Round honorably, in legitimate combat?"

"Luciano Bradley had his weapons, his skills and experience, and the advantage of being fresh even though I had just sparred with two other highly celebrated and accomplished aces. I had my weapons and skills, and they proved sufficient that I am alive and he is not. If that isn't a legitimate and honorable outcome to you, then I would have to ask what is."

The restraining bolts holding our Lancelot in place suddenly deactivate, as a massive gate opens up in the floor before us, revealing some kind of industrial lift to a facility underneath. From it, our external microphones can pick up an ascending elevator…

"A bold claim, Kururugi. In the name of His Imperial Majesty, Charles zi Britannia…"

Through our cameras, I can barely see the Gloucesters surrounding us at the perimeter of the arena raising their weapons in ceremonial salute.

"Hail Lord Bismarck Waldstein, the Knight of One!"

From the mechanical abyss in front of us, a blank metal skull emerges… quickly followed by a giant, kneeling unarmored frame almost as tall as the Lancelot. Embedded in the platform next to it is a sword also as long as Lancelot is tall…

…and then the frame stands up, revealing that Lancelot's head only comes up to its chest.

What kind of giant Knightmare Frame–?!

Oh what the actual fuck, is that a GALAHAD?!

watch?v=dXJ3R9Sw4FU

The colossal machine wraps its fingers around the hilt of the giant blade as more safety locks disengage, before effortlessly picking it up with one hand and swinging it around to point at us. "I will test your strength."

Galahad's landspinners drop into place on the ground.

And it's all Suzaku can do to put up our Blaze Luminous shields to block an oncoming side slash that knocks the Lancelot into the air and sends it tumbling for what seems like a hundred meters.

"Consider that your warning shot."

As the Lancelot shakily stood itself back up in the arena, Gino Weinberg was a man with questions.

Like, wasn't it beyond unusual to see a Knightmare Frame trembling, as though expressing even its pilot's nervousness? Just how sensitively tuned was that machine?! And for that matter, how good was Suzaku Kururugi really, to be able to use such a Knightmare effectively without constantly and incompetently crashing into everything around him?

The mere fact that his reflexes had been able to defend against Lord Waldstein's opening play at all gave some credence to his claims of having beaten Sir Bradley legitimately.

Kururugi then gave more evidence to back up his story when his landspinners dropped, and proceeded to narrowly dance out of the way of several more simple and straightforward attacks from the Mightiest Warrior in the World.

Brow furrowed, Gino opened a private channel to his fellow Rounds that were watching.

"What do you guys think about this whole situation?"

"Lord Waldstein's playing with him," Dorothea assessed with an audible scowl. "And the boy's barely holding himself together."

"By the skin of his teeth or not," Gino pointed out, "he's lasted ten seconds and counting with the best ace in our armed forces despite having less than a dozen cockpit hours logged. I believe in beginner's luck, but not this far… but it's not all I was talking about. The accusations about Bradley, that he forced himself on his subordinates and beat or otherwise abused them into silence… the guy was always a lot bloodthirstier than I was comfortable with, but do you really think he might've been capable of that?"

"It has no bearing on the current case."

And of course the teacher's pet would dodge the question.

Forcing down his annoyance, Gino stared back at Monica's stoic visage in his comms window. "Maybe it doesn't, but shouldn't we still look into it as a separate matter? We're talking about accusations of behavior that, setting aside all moral arguments, would have needlessly compromised valuable combat assets. Doesn't that merit investigation in its own right? And even if you downplay it as the strong having their way with the weak, it sure looks like Bradley was weaker than Kururugi – and if he was the stronger one, and he's mad about it, then we should be too!"

"Sir Bradley misusing his strength so grievously would be a matter of concern," Dorothea agreed after a moment's thought.

Is she mad? Gino asked himself. She sounds a little mad. Hopefully, that means she's coming around to my way of thinking on the matter…

Another few tense seconds followed, in which the Lancelot ducked under a telegraphed slash and attempted to ram a harken into the Galahad's waist. Instead, the Galahad's free hand dropped onto Lancelot's head and pushed it away. The action would have almost looked playful, if it hadn't sent the smaller machine sprawling like a tumbleweed. Again.

"Very well," Monica allowed. "In that case, we can requisition the testimony and other records from Princess Merrybell. If Sir Kururugi can keep fighting for long enough, we may even have a few spare minutes to look over it while we're here."

Wait, did she just call him Sir Kururugi? Even though he's never been formally Knighted? …nah, I better not ask about it, Gino thought. I don't want to risk the Captain of the Royal Guard changing her mind again…

"How about you, Norland? You have anything to say on the subject?"

"I do not."

Go figure. That Norland's such a mysterious guy – and not just because of that kooky mask he's always wearing…

"I saw your fights with Guilford and Cornelia," Bismarck idly announced as Galahad locked blades with the Lancelot, pinning down the white Knightmare through sheer pressure. "Heard your preaching–"

"Then you had to have seen my fight with Bradley right after that! And yet you're still insisting on this useless farce?!"

Bismarck sent his opponent away with a swift kick in the chest for the cheek. "I suggest you be silent until addressed; your ignorance is already apparent enough."

Rather than press the advantage, Bismarck waited for the Eleven to stand back up and be ready to resume. "I wonder, Kururugi; do you really believe that men are nothing more than machines, to be reprogrammed at your convenience?"

"It's… it's a handy metaphor," Suzaku wheezed as the Lancelot got to one knee. "Machines can be diagnosed by an expert… their broken or faulty parts can be replaced, and made as good as or even better than new."

"Replacing faulty parts, is it?" Galahad waved a hand, daring Lancelot to approach. "I imagine that's why you so insistently spared the life of every single terrorist you faced at Shinjuku, then. By denying your enemies any responsibility for their choices or actions, you can justify your self-righteous mercy as compassion for their ignorance."

Suzaku pressed a switch in the cockpit, and both of Lancelot's MVS blades hissed to life, turning red as he charged in.

MVS can slice through anything, here's where I can get the advantage–!

Lancelot swung a Maser Vibration Sword that was operating with enough frequency and heat to slice through titanium like butter.

Rather than attempt to block or even evade it, the Galahad swung its massive blade and parried it.

"WHAT?!"

"I suppose it must be convenient to see yourself and others as mere machines rather than people," Bismarck mused, before proceeding to also parry Lancelot's second MVS as well. "To absolve friend and foe alike of responsibility for their actions, to dismiss the reality of their choices as but an inevitable consequence of social programming, reacting to cause and effect... to separate your malfunctioning adversaries into those who can be fixed with relative ease, and those whose repairs demand more trouble than they're worth..."

Seeing that Suzaku appeared to have been paralyzed with shock and horror at the brief show of prowess, the Galahad raised its sword – and sent Lancelot flying high into the air with a smack from the flat of the blade. "Men are not robots to be dismissed as mere tools! They make choices of their own accord, act of their own will… until you learn to respect that, you will never grow as a Knight!"

With that, the Galahad leapt in pursuit of its foe… only to momentarily hesitate in its followup swing when a whisper full of hatred crept back into the radio.

"Oh, buddy… the absolute last thing you want me to do here is give you the credit of making a choice."

Twisting mid-air with a remarkable show of agility, the Lancelot brought up an arm to block the next slash with Blaze Luminous – while also firing its hip harken boosters to wrap around the Galahad's waist, reeling itself in.

"You have the authority as Knight of One to claim rulership over an entire area and bring it peace, but you don't! You just sit on your ass and play mouthpiece for an Emperor who couldn't even be bothered to say anything about his own son's murder!"

Planting its feet on the Galahad's chest to maintain a semblance of stability, the Lancelot disabled the vibration on its MVS to conserve power, and stabbed down… only for the Galahad to block it with the hilt of its own blade. "Is that what Princess Euphemia told you happened during your coma?"

Full of rage and wrath, Lancelot stabbed down again. Repeatedly. "Don't try to gaslight me, you were recorded on TV giving the funeral speech! And even now, you're wasting time trying to protect the image of a predator and rapist by putting me on this dogshit trial! You have all this power, and yet you do nothing while people starve in poverty until it gets bad enough that dying in a hopeless rebellion is the best option they have!"

As the Knightmares fell back toward the ground, Galahad punched Lancelot in its waist hard enough to reset the automated harken controls, causing them to reel back in to their default state. "These suffering people you speak of, are they Britannians?"

For a split-second, there was a silence so complete that Bismarck thought he could hear something break.

And then the Lancelot engaged all four of its harken boosters while they were clamped in place, rocketing both machines into the steel floor for everything it had. "…THEY ARE TO ME."

Before they could hit and crash, Galahad wrapped a hand around the Lancelot and threw the smaller machine aside, before twisting to land on its feet. Impressively, the Lancelot was able to use its harken boosters like verniers, also managing a controlled three-point landing.

"You talk shit about me denying my enemies the dignity of their free will or whatever," Suzaku snapped, "but if I were to respect the kind of choices made by dipshit institutionalists like you, then I'd never be able to rest until you were as dead as Bradley!"

"So you refuse to forgive?" Bismarck asked, as Galahad stood tall. "For someone who claims to want peace and reconciliation, that's an… interesting choice."

In the space it took to blink, Lancelot was already up close and swinging. "If you want me to honor people's choices, your argument would be more convincing if you'd made a lot more of them that weren't in the service of upholding an objectively evil status quo! If you're going to conquer the world, then it's just basic human decency that you should treat all peoples like they're your people!"

Block. "You're too reckless and immature to understand the weight of power like mine once exercised. By my authority as Knight of One, it is my right to do nothing if I deem it for the best."

Slash. "Then you're just another parasite growing fat on the powerless masses!"

Sidestep. Slap on the back of the head. "Oh? Do you mean to declare one of your… armed interventions on me, then? On the public face and extension of His Majesty, whom you swore to serve when you donned that uniform?!"

The Lancelot's eyes turned pink, as Suzaku's lit up with Geass inside the cockpit. "You fat cats and your idle complacency are holding back Britannia's – holding back His Majesty's – holy evolution! And if as a man you choose to be an obstacle on our march towards progress, then I see no course of action left but to rip you apart for your sins until there's nothing left!"

A wave of power almost seemed to pulse from the Lancelot as it reared back its head, as if trying to roar out its pilot's rage despite lacking a voice of its own. "NOW ANSWER ME! ARE YOU A MAN, OR A MACHINE?!"

Bismarck grinned inside the cockpit, as Galahad raced towards its adversary. "I'm The Emperor's Right Hand! The Knight of One! DO YOUR WORST, BOY!"

watch?v=X5kmBk2AqSA

Clash! Sparks showered the combatants as they locked blades, Lancelot's dual MVS coming back to life in a furious red. "When people survive a long time on the battlefield," Suzaku said, "they start to think they're invincible."

With a roar of hate, Lancelot found the power to force Galahad to backstep. "I bet you do too, buddy."

"Ha! Hardly; I know my power and am comfortable with it," Bismarck replied as he parried the next swing and riposted with a quick stab that Lancelot had to bend away from. "These are merely the fruits of experience, which clearly cannot be said for you!"

Getting back to its feet with a truly inhuman twist, the Lancelot raced back in for another attack. And pressed. And kept pressing.

"So what?! You've spent this whole time lecturing me, when you don't even fight for anything real yourself! Bismarck…! You were named for a politician! Now shut your mouth and find out why I was named for a GOD!"

"From machines to gods? Is that what you think you are?! It would certainly explain your quickness to judge!"

"Who else will send the devil back to Hell where he belongs?! You?! DON'T MAKE ME LAUGH!"

The KMFs locked blades again, and it seemed for a moment, that this exchange would be little different from the prior ones.

And then the Lancelot twisted, throwing its blades away while forcing Galahad's giant sword free of its own grip. In the same motion, it jumped up and kicked the sword as far away as it could, making itself vulnerable to a furious punch in the faceplate.

But it didn't matter, because the assembled Rounds had already seen what happened.

Bismarck Waldstein, the world's mightiest swordsman.

Had been deprived of his weapon.

And the nature of the fight was now completely different for that fact.

Bismarck stared in shock at Galahad's empty hands… and then tore off his eyepatch with a laugh. "Haha… hahahaha! It's been eight years since anyone could do that to me!"

The light of Geass flared, and two forearms came up to block a spinning kick that sent Galahad skidding. "I haven't felt this alive since Empress vi Britannia was taken from us! Suzaku Kururugi! You truly are, without a doubt, Closer to Eden!"

Bismarck could see it all… the absolute future.

Over the next six seconds, the Lancelot would dive in from the left with a haymaker that would flow into a flurry of jabs, then dip to the right for a high kick to the head, and finally try to skewer the Galahad again with its harken boosters.

And, indeed, the Lancelot dove in from the left with a haymaker that Galahad sidestepped. "I don't need the approval of some sick freak who pulled me halfway around the world to protect a dead criminal's reputation!"

Rather than hesitate, Suzaku then committed to the attack as foreseen, denting the Galahad's forearms with a series of quick jabs meant to buy time to think. A few seconds of that bought time after, the Lancelot slid to the right as Bismarck smirked, ready to put an end to this fight once and for all.

You fought well in the end. It's no one's fault that the future cannot be –

As Lancelot slid into position for its kick, Galahad threw out an arm to clothesline it. Once the pilot was dazed, he could easily enough pin the Lancelot on its front and render it unable to continue fighting.

And then the Lancelot grabbed Galahad's arm with both of its own, landspinners running at maximum, and flipped the larger Knightmare onto its head with a shoulder toss.

Changed?!

For the first time in decades, Bismarck hesitated.

Never, not even in his spars with Marianne the Flash.

Not once had his Geass ever been proven wrong.

Not once had the future been able to change once he had already foreseen it, by anyone's will other than his own.

The Galahad tumbled clumsily onto its back, its pilot frozen in sheer disbelief, when the Lancelot pounced, laying into the larger frame with one savage punch after another. "I've got you now, Bismarck! Go on and beg your servants! To save you! From a worthless Eleven! Show the world how weak you are!"

After a few seconds of beating on its downed opponent, the Lancelot raised its arm harkens with intent to skewer the cockpit.

And that split-second of theatricality made all the difference, as Galahad shoved the Lancelot away and dove for its sword.

This has gone far enough!

Bismarck let out a sigh of relief as he foresaw the Lancelot go limp and tumble to the ground while trying to charge after him as it ran out of power… before stiffening as the future shown by his Geass changed again.

The downed Lancelot's cockpit block was open. Had already been open, was being opened, during its charge, as the pilot was using the KMF's momentum to…

To…

"That boy… is he insane?!"

"BISMAAAAAAAAAAAARCK!"

The Galahad staggered back as though struck, before suddenly pivoting to the left as a loud crash hit against the Knightmare's head.

"NOTHING'S GONNA SAVE YOU FROM ME, BISMARCK! NOT MEN! NOT WEAPONS! NOT ARMOR!"

Suzaku had jumped from the failing Lancelot onto the Galahad's shoulders. Was now attacking with his bare hands. And was inflicting damage.

Unable to see Suzaku on Galahad's external cameras, Bismarck had to use trial and error with his Geass to try and grab the diminutive attacker… with extremely limited success, thanks to Suzaku's own Geass giving him probable advance warning of where to dodge.

Suzaku, for his part, searched for an easy path to the cockpit like he'd done in Shibuya, but was stymied by the prototype's unusual construction. With little time to improvise, he growled and ducked under Galahad's chin, before bracing himself against the metal of its chest.

And then he started to push up.

"I'M… TAKING..."

Metal above Bismarck's groaned as it slowly bent and warped.

"YOUR… HEAD!"

And with a horrific screech that drowned out Suzaku's triumphant yell, off it went, tumbling to the floor.

With it out of his way, Suzaku could hop down into the neck and start punching his way through the roof of the cockpit itself.

…if not for his fatigue finally allowing Bismarck to catch the younger soldier in Galahad's steel grip, before tossing him away like a softball.

Suzaku tumbled and rolled along the steel-reinforced concrete like a ragdoll, beaten up and bruised, but had been launched at an angle that most of his momentum was able to bleed off over time rather than causing him to instantly go splat.

Coughing up blood, he forced himself to his feet –

…and immediately found himself staring up at the headless Galahad, the tip of its massive sword hovering mere centimeters from his throat.

"You… you're really something else, Kururugi."

Suzaku didn't say anything, just glancing at the meters-long sword and visibly wondering if he could slip out of this predicament to make another comeback.

"The world is in chaos, the Knights of the Round are down a member, and a wild dog can only be allowed to run free for so long before it's put down," the Knight of One continued. "…and you need to take responsibility for your actions. Kneel."

With no other choice, as the sword remained at a constant distance from his throat, Suzaku slowly lowered himself to one knee.

And then, with a feat of fine motor control eclipsing any show of strength showcased in the battle up to that point, Bismarck delicately maneuvered Galahad's blade onto Suzaku's left shoulder and tapped it, before then doing the same with the right.

"Your strength and your dedication to evolution are beyond question. Through the power vested in me as Knight of One to His Imperial Majesty Charles zi Britannia, the 98th Emperor of our great holy nation… I, Bismarck Waldstein, do hereby dub thee Sir Suzaku Kururugi. I bid you rise, Knight of Ten."

"…wait, wh–?!"

"And with power over life and death in your hands, I command you: return to Area Eleven. End the unrest there and bring us alive the terrorist, Zero, by any means necessary."