I own nothing.
"Good afternoon, my dear seraphs. We are a bit early, so we'll get the meeting underway as soon as the staff finishes taking your orders."
Uriel watched the emperor, Lelouch, from his position at the oval dining table— present were the lead cabinet ministers, the Chancellor of High Command and the General Staff, the Branch Service chiefs, and the Lords of Parliament who represented Heaven's citizens in the Lower House.
The very foundations of Heaven's government had been changed completely under the new regime but these key roles had only been delegated to the those who had proven their merit under Michael's regime, the most capable and honourable angels of god who had served since time immemorial and would continue to do so for the foreseeable future.
Seated around the emperor himself were the seraphs― the former heads of the previous regime, which had now been reorganized into the Knights of the Seraphim who stood above all other angels of heaven in authority and power and were answerable only to the monarch.
They were the swords of heaven, standing tall and proud over the holy kingdom created by their father. Each one was an unparalleled master of their craft, a peerless genius that fundamentally transcended human bounds. For all their beauty and elegance, it was known that they were weapons born for war— they were blades who knew war, had seen it, had been wielded in it, and thrived in it as they bathed in the blood of their enemies and emerged victorious every time.
Only fools would make the mistake of underestimating them. Their untarnished figures and flawless skins did not reflect their lack of experience but were a testament to their power, that nobody they faced had ever been able to leave their mark upon their unblemished edge. Wars have been decided by their hands, entire nations were brought to their knees by their strength and legends were born on the might of their steel.
As a holy knight sworn to the emperor, Uriel was one of the few who held both the rank and seniority to speak during this emergency meeting which began when Lelouch exercised his prerogative as the emperor and ordered the government and the seraphim to convene, and so he came— more than aware that topic to be discussed today would become an object of interest to many of the assembled officers here who had all earned their portfolios through long and distinguished careers including himself.
The pendragon district of the sixth heaven was a scenic, radiant city of interwoven avenues that was home to many of the Empire's most important subjects and its treasured places. Around its outer ends were the residential mansions of the seraphs and other high executives―intentionally designed to be modest and simple, a reminder that that the lords of heaven were not in competition with the sovereign.
It also held the Imperial Palace, the residence of the emperor who was the absolute head of state and had the final say on all matters judicial, legislative, and executive.
Security for the pendragon district was managed by the seraphim and included several forts manned by angels from the holy regiment― in the event of an emergency, archangels were stationed on a five-minute alert alongside any one seraph who happened to be on guard duty. However, no threat requiring a response had ever risen since Lelouch inherited the throne for they remained deep inside the heart of the heaven.
The emperor leaned back and began the meeting when the valets, the best amongst the lower angels who had handpicked for royal service, finished serving everyone and vacated the room. "Gentlemen and gentlewomen, you were all called here because Uriel brings bad news through our secret services. It seems a dhampir from the Tepes Faction has awakened a sacred gear that we have a vested interest in. I shall be blunt here and save time, we have no choice but to acknowledge Valerie Tepes as the current owner of the Longinus Sephiroth Graal."
All sense of levity and ease disappeared from the table at once, the honour of dining together with the emperor vanishing as their backs straightened. Most of the seraphs at the table looked at the emperor with blank and dumbfounded stares. All except his elder botherers Michael and Metatron, who both sobered up remarkably fast.
"I think you must have been made aware of the theory when Michael here almost fainted upon hearing news of a sacred gear user being reincarnated as a Devil, but this has cleared most of our doubts. The system is not as perfect as we thought it to be when it comes to ensuring the tools granted to mankind actually remain in their ownership, but the situation is by no means lost." He quipped dryly, choosing his words carefully as he tactfully ignored the sudden sombreness.
By no means lost, as everyone around the table knew, was a delicate way of saying that a disaster had occurred― as with any organized force, success was always proclaimed loudly and with great fanfare whereas setbacks were usually studied judiciously and methodologically rectified in a careful way that allowed the preservation of morale.
"What happened was an unacceptable blunder that must be rectified soon" The black emperor paused dangerously, and Uriel felt his back subconsciously straighten as the emperor's amethyst eyes scanned the room before he continued onwards. "Before we continue talks about our response, I shall give a brief overview of the current Factional War that the Tepes Faction is currently participating in to ensure everyone remains aware of the circumstances we have to deal with and the conclusions we have reached."
The young boy leaned forward, slender fingers toying with the reports on his table. "The Tepes are not winning this war, and Uriel tells me the advisors of the regime even presented the king with the recommendation that he cease hostilities against the Carmilla Faction a week ago."
Uriel followed his ruler closely, eyes tracing his every movement for this was not the gentle Lelouch he sometimes saw laughing beside Gabriel, but the Emperor of Heaven at work. "It has been an year since the war began, and the Carpathian Arc is in Carmilla hands with the Tepes having lost about twenty percent of their territory and about half of their available forces."
"Fearful of joining what might turn into a cascading defeat, the former partners of the Tepes Faction have signalled their neutrality rather than join the war effort and it is now clear that the Tepes regime would fall in no more than five years if this continues." Uriel rose from his seat as the Head of the Secret Services and a Knight of the Seraphim, representing two departments that had learned to work surprisingly well together during the previous decade. "There is a flipside, though— even though the vampires are falling into recession, both sides have expressed interest in procuring supernatural weapons from the fallen through skewed loans, resulting in a greater degree of financial engagement between the two sides."
"It seems that involving foreign powers in this war of theirs was never part of their original strategy but rather an unexpected windfall which has been advantageous for both sides of the equation." Michael picked up, continuing for his brother. His elder brother observed the reaction from his audience and saw that the general sentiment had begun to shift at the mention of their age-long adversary. From the corner of his eye, he saw Lelouch smile and motion for him to continue. "Carmilla had already been receiving shipments of weapons by the time we became aware of them whereas the Tepes are fighting to preserve their way of life, they would not reject foreign aid if the alternative is total defeat."
"The involvement of the Fallen is alarming but should have been expected. Such treachery has long been part of their national policy, and their emergence as an economic hegemon has been largely based on such skewed intervention." Gabriel chimed in her thoughts. "Our forsaken brethren did what they do best and managed to play both sides once again, that is all."
Though he somewhat agreed with his sister, Uriel was left impressed by the Carmilla Faction's prompt response to the escalation as he read through the documents presented before him. The situation was as simple as it seemed at a glance. "It seems that the Tepes Faction has already been forced into a disadvantageous stalemate. Though their economy has largely been insulated from the war so far, general trend indicates that it would not be long before the Tepes Faction starts reeling from the ramifications of these losses."
"Indeed, that is how it should have been." Raphael slowly shook his head, eyes blazing in a rare show of genius which became apparent only amid bloodshed and war. "But from what the reports claim, it appears that the situation has somehow been completely reversed. Even as we speak, the previously dominant Carmilla forces have been forced to retreat repeatedly— forced to abandon their recent gains as Tepes forces descend upon them with powers previously unheard of. Some of the reported aberrations include resistance to sunlight, endless stamina, and even enhanced regeneration."
Metatron, who had been overseeing the departments of research and development at the emperor's personal behest, pushed back his glasses with the tip of his finger— a habit of his from his days as a simple student whenever he entered serious contemplation. A rare look of surprise appeared on his face. "But that is logically impossible. Vampires are physically incapable of developing resistance to sunlight, for it is as dangerous to them as our holy magic was to the demons of old."
"Precisely the point." The emperor closed his eyes, his pink lips twisting into an enraged frown that. "It is evident that the Tepes Faction is using the Sephiroth Graal to change the tides of this war. Detailed reports regarding this war would be provided later, but what we must currently consider is the most concerning problem of a misplaced Longinus, one of the thirteen promised weapons to protect the weak in their time of need, to fight back the darkness and protect the innocent"
Amethyst eyes shone out of his aristocratic face, which currently held a look of sheer rage that was masked quickly when he leaned forward. With lean shoulders and a thin waist, he could have easily been mistaken as a girl from afar and the hands with which he turned the pages of the reports before him were soft and smooth, a scholar's hands, free of callouses and scars.
"It is said that Devils would often go to great lengths to recruit Sacred Gears wielders into their peerage, not only because they tend to make exceptionally powerful Devils compared to normal humans but because there is nothing funnier for them to desecrate our Lord's generous schemes— as the very weapons He created to hinder them, now make them stronger instead. What these vampires have done is an greater insult." Lelouch paused, glancing at each one of them. "I think everyone here should be aware of what Sacred Gears are. You all should know the purpose behind their existence far better than I do."
Uriel hesitated for a moment before he slowly nodded and sensed his brothers and sisters doing the same beside him.How could they be unaware when everyone in this chamber were all personally involved in the making of those tools, having shed rivers of precious blood for the sake of their Father's dream?
"They were God's gift to humanity. Weapons meant to as humanity's counter to the supernatural, to protect them from monsters who would prey upon the weak." The emperor stated, his countenance blank as he swept his gaze across the room and raised an open hand towards the sky, "It was our Father's dream to create a world mankind would not turn towards the skies for protection during dark nights. A world where all one needed to do was look up in the sky and know that guardians who worked for the sake of the weak stood tall and proud by the grace of our lord whose kindness remains unmatched."
"Sacred Gears were meant to be the weapons of the righteous, to guard mankind against twisted gods who had feasted upon their race since the dawn of time, supreme beings who knew neither pain nor suffering yet so callously inflicted it upon others, omnipotent horrors who could not bleed but would let rivers of blood flow." He lowered his hand, "But that is no longer so. During this decade alone, the Devil Faction alone have stolen fourteen Sacred Gear users into the shams they call Peerages."
Uriel saw the problem immediately, and he was sure others did so just as well— after all, it was a dilemma that had plagued them all for centuries. What Lelouch meant could not be any clearer: if fourteen Sacred Gear users were reincarnated into Devils, then that left fourteen less for humanity.
"And the Devils are not alone in this regard." Lelouch continued, "The Fallen have also recruited groups of Sacred Gear Wielders. In fact, it is common practice amongst prominent powers today. They prey on vulnerable and ignorant humans that bear God's blessing, feed them honeyed words and dangle forbidden fruits in front of them only to see them enthralled. In the end, the supposed protectors of mankind are perverted away by the very kind they were meant to defend against and their Sacred Gears fall into enemy hands "
The emperor sighed and his heart clenched as his amethyst eyes glanced at them all, a single hand gracefully tracing the edges of his bangs as if he were in deep contemplation. Uriel had no response, none of them did. It did not seem that Lelouch wanted one anyway.
"Where are mankind's champions? The humanity's finest, who could go toe to toe with gods themselves and not be found lacking. But where are they now? People like Hercules, Lu Bu, Siegfried?"
Uriel just lowered his head and he could feel his brothers and sisters doing the same, they had no answer.
"You all must surely be aware of the obvious problem. They are not just about robbing humanity of its rightful defences, they are actively ravaging their potential." His lord whispered, and his eyes seemed to glow in his anger underneath his raven locks. "Those heroes of legends who can face gods themselves and not be found lacking do not exist, because other Factions have already stolen them before they could reach the heights they were meant to soar."
"Our beloved God is dead and his dying wish was to protect humanity, his children from the supernatural. This is what his dream has been reduced to, this is what has become of his generosity." The emperor stood up and every single occupant of the room seemed to feel it at the same time. It was something archaic, ancient and terrifying, like the opening of a door that had been locked for years releasing a deadly beast "I refuse to accept this, and I am sure the same must be true for you all."
Everyone startled almost as if struck, eyes widening and back straightening as shivers ran through their body as currents of shock and awe. He'd dreamt of it many times before, but to see it happen so suddenly— Uriel could not believe it was finally happening.
"We have waited for far too long, sacrificed far too much. Heaven was not just the Kingdom of God, it was meant to be far more than that. To simply stand guard over the world is not enough to complete our purpose, heaven needs to be the bringer of light as well." Lelouch spoke, the sound of his voice was sweet yet his words were an ultimatum capable of changing the world itself.
"Henceforth, this shall not be the case. I have called you all here to declare thus― heaven shall no longer hesitate to intervene directly by discharging its duty in service of our god's dream if required. It is about time we set a precedence that would make them think twice." He continued, and Uriel straightened "No longer shall the supernatural prey on innocent, no longer shall Sacred Gears be stolen by the unworthy. We shall start another crusade to that end, just and righteous"
Then Lelouch vi Britannia, the Emperor of the Seven Heavens, stopped hiding his power and without raising so much as a finger or speaking a single word, he reminded all who stood before him of his might.
In a blink of an eye almost every Seraph in the decorated hall, from the rowdy Raphael to the lethargic Metatron fell silent and lowered their heads. They did not bow on their own but were forced to by the oppressive weight that permeated the air, their feet no longer able to support their own body beneath it. It was crushing, so powerful that it felt as if the hand of a giant was pushing down on his shoulders.
It was then Uriel realized why despite being recalled for advice, Lelouch had never once asked them a question, why they had never once been allowed to lead the conversation. Why this emergency meeting had been called so suddenly.
It was because Lelouch never once had the intention of indulging in debate, he had summoned them here to make a declaration.
"I hereby announce— all those who have seized the Sacred Gears by cowardly means, the fools who plan to reverse the flow of history and steal by force the rights that the Heaven has established for mankind would receive a suitable repayment for this atrocity. Their mistaken choice must be met with an appropriate punishment for what these criminals need is neither diplomacy nor persuasion, they have neither the ability nor the intention to understand either. Only force can enlighten their foolishness. Heaven would secure the Sephiroth Graal by itself in answer to this insult and it would not stop there, we must reclaim what rightfully belongs to mankind."
His lord spread his arms, almost theatrically and it was as if time itself had frozen upon hearing his words.
Yet, that could not be further from the truth.
Time had simply marched forward, merciless as ever.
"This is honestly delectable!"
The gentle words snapped the raven emperor from his thoughts as his amethyst eyes slowly opened and took in everything around him. He was in a small but homely kitchen, standing across from a seated Gabriel who had just moments ago been chowing down an entire feast on her own.
The sharp shadow cast by the curtains that framed the window started to fade at the onset of sunlight. The rays of light slipped through the small gap, and streaks of yellow crept their way toward the duo even as Lelouch glanced at Gabriel in confusion― he hadn't quite caught the question, attention having been briefly distracted by the picturesque scenery behind him but the meaning was apparent from the way she was looking at him.
Here in this world, he seldom received chances to indulge in luxury and riches. Lelouch was a figure of great power and reflecting that, the duties upon were even greater.
His achievements were stellar, they had to be— but they only furthered the distance between him and those meant to be his peers, they thought him to be greater than he wanted to be. The ease with which he handled problems that had even archangels stuck only made him feel out of place, and the monotonous praises he received served only to strengthen his discomfort.
He indulged in his old habits to lessen the feeling, but quickly found that they brought him no joy. Violet eyes flew words on pages with disinterest, fine food was naught but ashes in his mouth, his outings were quickly relegated to the status of a chore, and even chess became a dull sport, the monochrome pieces losing their allure in the absence of challenging opponents.
Sometimes, he could not help but think how much simpler it would have been if he'd never woken up after the blade pierced his chest. In moments of weakness, he would feel his hand twitching for alcohol and refrain. Never would he stoop so low, though. He had once— when Nunnally had denounced him and his efforts for her, and the incensed reprimands of his Queen had been the only thing to stop the syringe containing Refrain before the needle entered his arm.
He was above that, or at least he thought himself to be.
Cooking had been a chore in the beginning, something he'd picked up over the years because caring for Nunally demanded he learn menial work. But as he delved deeper into the subject, he'd discovered that cooking could be rather pleasant at times― Lelouch could not remember when exactly he'd started cooking for Gabriel, but he found himself doing it more frequently as of late. It relaxed him, gave him time to think.
Perhaps that was why he'd found himself inside Gabriel's suite when the meeting had ended. He'd discovered that pleasant company and delectable food could be surprisingly peaceful, especially when work left him drained and exhausted.
He took a deep breath, appreciating the fresh breeze of the sixth heaven laced with a mixture of delicious aromas coming from the counter full of food that Gabriel was currently devouring— oysters on crushed ice, pink smoked salmon, a gorgeous pudding, a chocolate log, sweet meat pies, plates of walnuts, almonds, raisins, pears, and oranges, as well as bottles of wine, champagne, and cider. The honeyed ham and roasted birds were kept under large silver dish covers, and there were even strawberries added on top to make the meal healthy.
He caught something suspicious from the corner of his eye and smirked, walking around the counter to the other side of the room where Gabriel was secretly trying to retrieve a tray of freshly-baked cookies from the oven using her magic. He reached over and tapped the angel on her shoulder. "That's for after the meal."
"But I'm hungry now." She glanced up and pouted in protest, even as Lelouch sighed at her adorable antics.
"Have some fruit and bread instead, it's good for your health." He chided her but was forced to relent when the seraph continued to gaze at him in a quiet plea. He sighed, looking away from those large emerald eyes and carefully removing a cookie from the tray with a spatula before serving it to his friend in a napkin. "Have one then, but be careful and don't burn your mouth."
"Amazing!" Gabriel praised between mouthfuls as she took in the rare sight of Lelouch garbed in an adorable pink-coloured 'Holy Crap, I'm a Good Cook' apron over a wine-red sweater as he prepared lunch for her. She had to acknowledge, it looked far cuter on the usually majestic emperor than it would have on her.
"You do make a formidable rival, I remember you gave a rather invigorating challenge during our baking competition two years ago." Lelouch responded, watching her savour the meal with gentle eyes.
"As the eldest daughter, I had to learn cooking." Gabriel untied her golden locks, which had been secured in a braid behind her back and poured him a glass of juice. "I also learned ballet, poetry, painting, the piano, and all sorts of womanly arts but forgot them all after going centuries without practice."
"So the reason you remember baking yet is because of your stomach?"
"That's…" The Seraph's cheeks brightened for a moment before she sighed helplessly. She had no answer that would not embarrass her, and the sight of her red cheeks seemed to amuse Lelouch greatly.
There was a moment of comfortable quiet as they both drew comfort from each other's presence, the warm hush between them neither awkward nor tense before it was broken by Gabriel. Judging by the way she was sneaking glances at him with a troubled look plastered on her face, it seemed that his daze had concerned the archangel.
"Are you really alright though?" Gabriel asked after a moment, leaning towards him as she wiped the crumbs from the corners of her mouth to hide the evidence of favouritism shown to her.
Lelouch glanced at her for a moment before he slowly sighed. She was more perspective than what people in the most unique of ways, having managed to exceed his expectations repeatedly.
He ran his hand through his raven locks, a habit of his from his days as a human before taking a seat beside the Seraph whose emerald eyes were trained on him. "We can secure the coastlines of the Black Sea and Mediterranean relatively quickly and the by suppressing the naval bases along the eastern seaboard if we march on Europe. But the major supply lanes would be too close to the heartland, and a proxy war through the Church would be costly. The only way to neutralise the threat completely is an invasion proper. We would finish its preparation in just a few days, after which we most probably would take quick action. Heaven would secure its sphere of influence neglected by the previous regime and put a stop to the theft of Sacred Gears by mankind, but it would kickstart another great war."
Gabriel almost choked on the bite of food in her mouth in surprise, and heat rushed to her smooth cheeks in awkwardness a few moments later. Both had replaced their formal robes as soon as the opportunity had presented itself and put on casual wear, but Lelouch only realised how tense he had been when a cold breeze flew through the room and rustled his hair.
"Centuries of peace would end soon, and would be the end result? Would it be worth it even if we succeed?" The emperor chuckled, knowing full well the weight of his decisions. "Once upon a time, it was concepts, then territories, then resources and influence, and then humans. Now it would be war over Sacred Gears— the supernatural can learn many great things, making worlds and dimensions, taming reality and dream, but they can never learn to share."
Glancing at the mahogany table Gabriel had bought just in case she ever entertained guests, Lelouch could not help but let his eyes wander. He admiring the homely suite Gabriel had designed for herself from a small section of her residential mansion, one of the many perks seraphs enjoyed alongside a substantial salary and numerous other state endorsed benefits in exchange for their service.
Though he could only see the kitchen and some parts of the connected dining hall, it seemed a perfect home that the more vulnerable part of him wished he had grown up in. He seldom thought of such things, but it was always in the company of the cute angel beside him who had some sort of otherworldly grace that made everything seem brighter whenever he did.
Amythest eyes found a single picture resting high on the wall and the emperor could not help but gently smile despite the dark thoughts brewing inside of him— a young Gabriel, maybe four or five years old, stood on the left side with a huge grin on her face as she held up a peace sign to the camera with her right hand. On the right side stood Michael, and Lelouch could hardly recognise the archangel who had a grin just as big stretched on his happy face.
The two stood beside a hauntingly beautiful man adorned in pure robes whose transcendent visage resembled that of an adult yet also a boy, a man yet also a woman, a saint yet also a sinner.
The way the man had a hand on their shoulders only seemed to add to the nostalgia of the photograph, gone were the permanent shadows on their faces. Both looked happy, far happier than he had seen them before.
"You know, I was never the most talented when it came to medical sciences," Gabriel began. Her voice drew him from his musings, the treacherous whispers that haunted his more frequently these days. "I thought it would be simple when I started learning it alongside other supplementary arts, but being a medic was not as easy as I expected. It is complex, much harder than I could imagine."
"To truly heal something, you must recognise what is broken. I spent years studying medical knowledge, and could barely sew cuts and scrapes when I started." Gabriel continued, even as Lelouch glanced at her in surprise. She had been the one to heal him when he crashed through the dimensional gap, always prepared to help whenever called upon. "It took me three whole years to learn how to properly heal broken bones and internal bleeding, and another three years on top of that to finally learn how to cure sickness caused by viruses and bacteria. I have only recently reached the point where I can repair genetic disorders. Raphael far surpasses me in that regard, as do many others in Heaven."
"But along the way, I did realise that understanding the body is not enough. You need to understand people as well, understand how they think and why they behave the way they do. After all, there are more ways to hurt a person than to wound their flesh or shatter their bones. I found that the right words or a gentle smile can heal just as well as any medicine or magic could at times, sometimes even better."
Lelouch thought back to that fateful day when his sister was crushed under his mother's corpse and her haunting screams of shock and murder rang through his ears. He'd taken an entire world's worth of enmity and hatred upon him and vowed vengeance against his nation, the dark whispers at the back of his head demanding he burn everything― he was the least deserving but it had been Nunnally's smile that healed him, quelled the rage that burned inside and made him feel again. His heart ached at the memory and he lowered his gaze in shame, remembering what he had done to her.
"That is why I started studying people, trying to understand them. I became very good at it too, almost unnaturally so." Gabriel raised her hands towards her face even as she peered at him, sunlight trickling between her fingers and casting a shadow over her face, "I need only to observe a man to completely comprehend them, just a few minutes is enough time for me to understand someone more intimately than their closest friends and family. A handful of minutes is all I need to learn exactly what I must say to help a man or to hurt him."
"Rarely do I need more than a single glance to understand a person." She turned around and smiled at him then, "It was like that with you, Lelouch. It took me years to understand that underneath it all, you're an astonishingly simple person."
Lelouch smirked at her, unable to understand where the conversation was headed but playing along this roundabout question and answer nonetheless "Well, you are the first person who has called me uninteresting in such a roundabout manner."
"What else would I call a man who starts a war to achieve peace and then regrets it later on?" Gabriel asked, moving her head to the side in innocent confusion.
Lelouch looked away from the archangel, who was perhaps more astute than anyone he had ever met before, and sighed— neither accepting nor denying her words as his thoughts turned towards the few people upon whom he based his ever-changing moral compass.
Euphemia who was the epitome of kindness. She was a perfect woman of sacrifice and love who had always loved him without any regard for himself. She had always been his role model, the one thing Lelouch wanted to become. On the other hand, Nunally had always been removed from the image of strength, sweet and gentle as she had always been. But at the same time, she was a warrior of unbreakable resolve and unimaginable tenacity who had tried to change the world on her lonesome just to protect him.
Both of them had changed him in ways Lelouch would forever remain grateful for― what would they say if they knew what his decision today meant?
Gabriel peered into his eyes. "I could never understand how people can go on living their lives without just stopping and staring at the world together all the time. It's amazing how everything in the world comes together just right, how everything needs to work in tandem with one another to function, from the smallest ant to the largest mountain. The world might be wonderful and majestic to behold but for all its beauty, it is astoundingly cruel."
"I want you to listen well and engrave it into your heart. Never forget this— not for one day, not for one second." The archangel paused. "The truth is any choice you take would be correct."
Amythest eyes widened, and Lelouch almost wanted to remind her what this would mean― a noble end through wicked means, a revolution bathed in blood. His crusade might be awarded with victory but his deeds would be punished with death. It might be just and necessary, but it would also be cruel and hard
"As long as you make the choice, any decision would be the correct one," The blond seraph spoke and for some reason, she appeared almost sad when she spoke. "I wish I could tell you something else, but that is the way things are. Any action we take, however unjust or cruel, can be made right by power. Power forgives all and power excuses all. That is why the decisions made by those with power can never be wrong."
"Cruel, indeed." Lelouch quipped, yet he could not deny her word. The Britannia ruled by his father and this new world that he had been wanted to save resembled each other in more ways than one, they existed solely for the sake of the strong. Kaguya had once told him that war was the ultimate failure of diplomacy, but could that really be said in a world where diplomacy was a privilege that existed only between equals?
He'd known this all along which was why he'd taken action in the first place, yet he couldn't help but wonder...
"The world would not change itself, you have to make it change." Gabriel continued, reminding him of a fact he had long been aware of. A truth he had given his life to change. "Righteousness and justice— these terms have always changed throughout the course of history. That is because those who stand at the top can determine what justice is. This is something you already understand."
"What would you do when there is an evil you cannot defeat by just means? Would you stain your hands with sin to destroy a greater evil?" Lelouch found himself whispering, acknowledging her words even as a shiver ran down his back. "Or would you remain steadfastly just and righteous even if it means surrendering to wickedness?"
He'd denounced both his Charles and Schneizel for their stagnancy, their refusal to pave a future yet here he was, doing the same. Content to wait as slow schemes bore uncertain fruit. Was that what he had been doing? How long had it been since he arrived here, in this world and what did he have to show for it? Was he to ignore the trembling of his hands and let injustice fester?
"And what was your answer to this, Lelouch?" Gabriel asked him, moving closer and gently touching his hand with her own. Her hand was much warmer than his, and her heat seemingly cleared all doubts he previously had.
It was staggering, the depths of his own arrogance. To think he'd be granted resolution if he just waited. No green-haired witch would appear here, to grant him the power of kings nor would he receive any sudden divine providence to set him upon a holy crusade. Had not he been the one to boldly declare that the world would not be changed without the dirtying of hands?
And yet here he was, playing the fool. Well, no longer would he mistake complacency for patience. There was no room for hesitation, no place for second thoughts.
"To defeat evil, I must become a greater evil." Lelouch answered, more resolute than he had been before as he gently squeezed the soft fingers entwined with his own.
The Stato della Citta del Vaticano— or simply the Vatican City, was an autonomic nation established under the sovereign authority and the jurisdiction of the Holy See that oversaw the spiritual autonomy of perhaps the most influential human organization since time immemorial.
Governed by the Holy See, the Vatican City was a sacerdotal-monarchical state ruled by the head of the Catholic Church that stood over a meagre land of about forty-nine hectares, it was the smallest recognized nation in the world by both the metrics of area and population.
Few knew that despite its pristine gardens and serene cathedrals, this holy city was a monument of war― a symbol of victory over the Greco-Roman Pantheon made into an homage that enshrined the shameful defeat when countless Gods had been forced to abandon their homes and flee west. It was no coincidence that the Vatican was located right at the heart of Rome itself, where the Pagan Gods once reigned supreme.
The blood wars between the Greco-Roman and the Abrahamic Pantheons were perhaps the most monumental incidents that had changed the supernatural world, a war whose cascading consequences could be witnessed even today— angels crucified and broken, emperors shamed and dethroned, holy grounds desecrated and temples burned, and countless saints martyred as the cruel gods fought above.
In the days following Constantine's conversion to Christianity, events proceeded exactly as one imagined they would― which is to say the Greco-Roman pantheon gradually withdrew from the short attention spans of mankind. They were seldom spoken of and even then only with the softest whispers and under the strictest of confidences.
The supernatural world was curiously subdued for a period after the bloody war. To the outsider, this might appear to be an observance of the changed regime but those on the inside knew that people were quiet not out of respect but fear for their own skins. The glee displayed by those who celebrated Heaven's victory was quickly tempered by the alarming thought― that if the former rulers of Europe with such fearsome reputations were so easily defeated, what was to prevent heaven from devising their own demise?
It had ended with the near absolute desolation of the Greco-Roman Pantheon and heralded an era of paranoia as hundreds of gods fled their homeland and moved their seat of power to North America. Archangels had descended upon earth that day to watch the towers of Olympus burned, to oversee the degradation of the former rulers of Europe into mere pagans whose faithful followers were henceforth persecuted as sinful heretics.
Heaven had emerged victorious that day and established a firm foothold in Europe that remained steadfast even after centuries― the Vatican was a symbol of their victory, standing right atop the ashes of what was once the stronghold of a prevalent pantheon.
The pope who oversaw this sacred land amongst the most influential humans on this planet— the Archbishop of Rome and Head of the Catholic Church whose rank had him oversee more than a billion devout followers, someone capable of changing whole nations through words alone. A human who stood as a beacon, the embodiment of the Church's noble cause offering solace and succour to all who might pause in the face of duty.
A man who bore the weight of history on his shoulders, whose sole duty was to guide lost souls to salvation. Yet here he was—kneeling in subversion, his head bowed and his knees bent as he trembled. Beside him were four cardinals of the Catholic Church, chosen few amongst the pinnacle of humanity sworn to protect the interests of mankind.
Vasco Strada, the wielder of Durandal whose power almost rivalled that of Roland and one of the greatest masters of Touki on the entire planet.
Ewald Cristaldi, the wielder of Ascalon and a master of magic renowned for his wisdom who had created countless branches of human magecraft.
Dulio Gesualdo, the wielder of the second strongest Longinus who was infamously regarded as the strongest amongst the faithful.
Griselda Quarta, the wielder of Joyeuse whose mastery over the blade allowed her to stand tall amongst the peerless swordsmen of the world and not be found lacking.
No sane human could have imagined such a scene, to even think that men and women of such pedigree would bow before anyone must have been unthinkable to most. Yet the pope remained frozen in the centre of a great hall, the heart of the Vatican whose banner was hung from the neck of more than a billion souls. To his left and right were the quickly called assembly of the most powerful cardinals sworn to the Church, whose surprise and anxiety he felt and heard through their sideways glances which fell upon his downed form as soon as they entered.
The pope could feel waves of surprise rising from the gallery at the sudden reversal in his usual temperament, interjected with a few curious looks that were lowered once again. But he never looked up, eyes on the floor as he created the very image of a wayward servant humbled into repentance by his master as he mourned his transgressions.
A lone bead of sweat trickled down the pope's forehead, and he subconsciously lowered himself even further, the same man whose voice issued sermons that moved thousands and whose kind gaze could melt the hearts of the stoutest men. He could feel the gazes upon him, yet he ignored them— the cardinals were not the subject of his attention, for seated before him on what usually served as the throne of his power were the creatures who embodied the glory of God.
Two archangels stood before him, proud and mighty, radiant with a graceful holy aura that only emphasised the twelve majestic wings folded behind their backs― Seraphs…
Angels sworn to serve God and protect all that belonged to him. They were Seraphs of Heaven, creatures of light so beautiful and noble that God himself chose them to act as his voice.
But it was not the seraphs who drew the pope's gaze― the most conspicuous thing was the single boy who appeared to be no older than eighteen, seated most comfortably on the throne which should have rightfully belonged to the pope with archangels of heaven guarding his left and right.
To see seraphs who seldom graced the world these days being subservient to a single boy shook the Pope to his very soul. The noble angels he knew would never lower their heads before a simple boy regardless of kindness or consideration, for he knew that the supernatural world was not as nice as stories made it out to be— that when all was said and done, even heaven with its golden palaces, crystal fountains and luscious gardens adorned with angels and songbirds was no paradise but an arena where lions and vultures prowled and schemed to set upon and tear those against them into pieces.
The boy's deep amethyst eyes stared into the cup of earl grey in his hands as he gently blew away the vapours rising above it. Not a speck of dust could be seen on his regal probes which were as pure as fresh snow on the eve of winter, a shroud of transcendence seemingly enchanting his hauntingly aristocratic features.
But upon a closer observation made through veiled glances and covert peeps, the Pope saw a cold expression that overlooked everything without a shred of interest on that majestic face― through his elusive interest and his uninterested expression, it quickly became apparent that the boy cared nought about the events transpiring in the hall before.
He acted as if he were a distant observer, watching the world from above as history danced to the tunes of his schemes― almost as if he had seen this very moment unfold countless times before in his mind, as if there was nothing in this world that could surprise him.
At least, that was how the Pope saw it and he was sure that each human beside him had all understood by now that the before them was not as simple as he seemed. Be it his temperament or his demeanour, one could feel an aura of perfection guarding his enchanting visage.
His aura might not shine with the noble radiance of an angel but he was certainly no mortal, that much was certain.
"Your Holiness, please stand and assume your positions. It is our fortune to have the chance to receive the Vatican's hospitality today." Metatron finally spoke, breaking his silence.
The room's attention turned to the tall angel whose voice laced with conceptual authority sent cold shivers down the back of every human in the hall, Metatron—the Voice of God, one of Heaven's oldest and most trusted ministers with an extremely prominent portfolio that made the archangel perhaps the second most influential individual of their pantheon after Michael himself who stood on the other side of the boy.
"Please, venerated seraphs." The pope could not help but bow even further, a shiver going through his spine as he spoke. "The chance to serve the interests of Heaven shall always be the greatest favour bestowed upon our church."
"It is Heaven's greatest pleasure to have such faithful devotees on its sides." Metatron chuckled gently before he shook his head. "But our schedules are overflowing already, and we'd dare not waste your time needlessly. Please allow us to proceed with the meeting before we further indulge Vatican's generosity."
"As you wish." The pope nodded, perhaps far too quickly for a man of his station. "The Church does not yet know the reason behind this welcome surprise, but we are prepared to expend any resource required for the sake of Heaven's interests."
"Good." The angel nodded, deftly ignoring the indirect question posed by the Pope. "Then I shall make this short— it has been decreed that Heaven shall be granted the right of jurisdiction over the recent development in the human world. To this end, the Church has been ordered to relinquish its authority and transfer all its resources stationed in the Balkan regions over to Heaven."
The old man almost gasped in surprise, stopping himself just before completely losing his composure. Archangel Metatron glanced at him but remained quiet, deftly ignoring the way all the humans gathered before him started to whisper and murmur amongst each other.
The Pope glanced at the other side only to meet Archangel Michael's gentle gaze for a single moment before he had to draw his eyes away from his hauntingly beautiful visage, fearing that he would lose himself in those ethereal emerald pools which seemingly glowed with a grace that was almost divine.
Instead, he glanced forward towards that mysterious boy— his hair soft, black, and lustrous as the gentle darkness of the night, covering a single eye as he observed a thousand emotions move through the faces of the humans below, his visage calm as ever before as he kept gracefully sipping his tea. His serene expression had not changed, showing neither glee nor fury.
He wondered what this stranger was thinking of, what were his thoughts as he witnessed the esteemed Cardinals of the Church startled in a manner akin to that of naïve teenagers. The way his subordinates' faces twisted at these unexpected words seemed almost calculated, almost as if they had just witnessed a miracle unfold right before them that appeared far too suddenly to be one. It would have been quite amusing had he been in any other place…
If Heaven really wanted this, if it really wanted to retrieve Sacred Gears for mankind once again, then the Pope was certain there would be nothing remaining of them save sickly old men and tearful women. They had already lost once and the second time would be no quick victory but a trial of resolve. The Fallen and the Devils already checked their advance on all three fronts the last time they'd fought, and more men were made ready by the second behind their lines even as they spoke...
Eventually, the weight of numbers would press too heavily on the scales of war. For a moment, he imagined what the devout members of the Church would think if they bore witness to their superior's turbulent faces which had always been composed and graceful before, and wondered if the Cardinals beside were thinking the same as they looked at his equally surprised face.
Humans were fickle in perhaps the simplest of ways— they were creatures whose hearts could be swayed by but a few carefully placed whispers. He knew it better than most, having led the Church for more than a decade…
Mankind had always been capable of unimaginable atrocities since the dawn of time, sinful even when Adam and Eve walked the gardens of heaven. Before humanity used to wage war for the sake of food and shelter, and they now waged war over continents for authority and interests. Murdering other humans over the smallest of things was cowardly, but nothing really had changed.
But even so, humans were so very fascinating— even the God had been fascinated by them if the sacred texts were true. He ruled over countless species but held mankind above them all, even his loyal and flawless angels who had to bow down before Adam long ago. It had always interested him, the Pope had always wanted to know what made them so special. What was it about them that had captivated even God himself?
That very curiosity had helped him see other things too and learn many truths. He learned words to move the hearts of men and women, prayers to inspire hope and love, and whispers to overthrow kings and monarchs. Perhaps that was why he now stood as the theological leader of more than a hundred thousand men, he just understood mankind better than most.
It was that same understanding that allowed him to see the options before him and understand perfectly that this was an order that could not be refused because of that very awareness. He had no other alternatives— his power came from the authority of the Church, and that authority was legitimate only because of heaven who stood behind it, denying an ordinance of God right before his own Cardinals would be equivalent to tearing apart his legitimacy with his own two hands. He only had a single choice, and that was to obey.
"Of course." The Pope hesitated for a moment before he nodded. Heaven had made a decree, and Heaven shall get what it desired. "It shall be as you say."
Authority itself was useless without legitimacy, and legitimacy was useless without power and compared to these Seraphs, he had none. Besides, it was not as if he was doing a great wrong― heaven's interests were aligned with those of mankind, this he was sure of.
"But even then, this request came too suddenly for an old man like me." The Pope began, bowing again as if to show his humbleness. "Forgive this old man for his insolence, Lord Metatron. But may I inquire as to why Heaven decided to take such measures so suddenly?"
Of course, he would not hesitate before asking for the reason behind such sudden demands— Heaven was an absolute monarchy in practicality, but its subjects had the right to ask questions. Besides, the current situation was far too astounding to be accepted so simply.
"Recent events have forced our hand. Our secret services have verified that a Dhampir of the Tepes Faction has been blessed with a certain Sacred Gear that Heaven has a vested interest in." Archangel Michael stepped forward this time, pausing for a moment as all eyes snapped toward him as if drawn by some unseen force.
His popularity amongst the clergy was unmatched, for there was no man of the cloth in this Church who had not heard of him. But his presence was even more overbearing— his haunting beauty almost enthralled them all, as his emerald eyes gleamed like stars and his golden hair shone from afar. His temperament was ethereal, a declaration that he was not of this mortal world.
Michael's emerald eyes scanned the room for a moment as if judging their worth before he continued.
"To be more precise, a bastard daughter of King Tepes was somehow chosen as the wielder of the Sephiroth Graal, one of our Holy Vestiges. We find this to be completely unacceptable."
The Pope, who always appeared dignified, visibly startled as did most of the subordinates beside him who understood what Michael meant, eyes widening and backs straightening as they slowly grasped the sheer implication.
Michael glanced at them kindly, ignoring the way they stood frozen before him in the heart of the Vatican as if his revelation was no big deal when each one of them was visibly trying to restrain themselves, for it would not do to raise one's voice in the audience of an exalted Archangel of Heaven. A hand of cold fear gripped their hearts all the while as the shock, amazement, and disbelief that threatened to surge forth expressed itself through wide glances and sharp breaths.
"Sephiroth Graal, as in one of the Thirteen Longinus?" A hesitant young voice broke the spell that had enthralled the entire hall.
The Pope's gaze turned toward the relatively young Dulio Gesualdo, who lowered his head when he noticed the gazes he had drawn to himself, his cheeks colouring a bit.
"You are Cardinal Gesualdo, right?" A soft voice cut in, and the hall instantly quietened. "The wielder of Zenith Tempest?"
The Pope felt his youngest cardinal raise his head even though his eyes were on the elusive teenager flanked by Archangels at his sides finally looking at them, as though the mere humans before him—for he was clearly something more—were finally worthy of his gaze. When he finally again, the soft, quiet words resonated through the hall and into the hearts of all who heard them.
"You are fortunate Cardinal Gesualdo, a chosen one." The boy whom the Michael had called Lelouch with more respect than someone his age should have received spoke before shaking his head ruefully, "It was the dream of our Lord to empower mankind, to protect his most beloved children from the supernatural. He wanted a world where mankind could safeguard its young and weak from those who would prey upon them. It was his wish to make them capable enough to protect themselves from those who would corrupt the good and strong among them."
"He wanted men to know that justice lived, and that no matter how hard the times or dark the night the righteous would protect them. Normal men who would watch over them and would give their life to protect them no matter how powerful the foe." Lelouch sighed, even as the Pope felt his heart clench at those words. "But that dream could not be completed."
"You are fortunate, for your name can be counted amongst the few who can freely serve mankind as you were meant to— a lone ray of hope meant to fight back the darkness and to protect the weak and innocent in a world where children are hunted down and exploited." The boy paused dramatically, at the most perfect moment. His amethyst eyes glancing over the faces of each man assembled before him.
"The fell legions of hell, both those of Devils and the Fallen, have taken advantage of Heaven's absence for far too long. Even now, they continue to prey upon humanity's greatest and strongest with false promises of riches and power, and turn them into no more than pitiful slaves." Lelouch rose slowly, gracefully, with an unshakable resolve burning in amethyst eyes. "Heaven allowed the detestable Evil Piece System to prey upon mankind once, but we are not so weak as to let our Lord's noble dream fall any further!"
The Pope subconsciously snapped to attention as shivers of what could only be anticipation traversed down his back— he was not alone for everyone else gathered in the hall stood a bit straighter including those mighty Archangels whose authority was second only to that of God.
"Having obtained the Longinus Sephiroth Graal through cowardly means, the cowardly vampires who plan to reverse the flow of their petty war would receive a suitable punishment for this act which takes by force and deceit what rightfully belongs to mankind." He declared with a flourish, hand moving through the air as though he were cleaving something unseen in half.
All the eyes in the hall widened once again as the words they had just heard rang through their ears, for they were spoken with such conviction that for a moment, all the stout hearts in the room almost skipped a beat.
"Lelouch vi Britannia, the Emperor of Heaven." The boy smiled charmingly and finally introduced himself, amethyst eyes glowing with something divine and the Pope averted his eyes for he could not bear to look at the sheer majesty before him any longer. "I look forward to working with you."
Thanks for reading.
I was not really satisfied with the interaction between Lelouch and Gabriel. I wanted her to play the role of C.C. and act as his adviser― somebody who can understand his shortcomings and speak clearly what he needs to hear. In the DxD canon, Gabriel is supposed to be this dumb and innocent woman who knows nothing of the world and exists solely for lewd scenes or comedy.
I changed her entire character in my story, though that must have been evident from the start. She would no longer just be fanservice, she might be kind but she understands what's necessary. What are your thoughts aboutmyGabriel?
Now, somebody asked me how strong Lelouch is at this point― and all I would reveal for now is that he's nowhere near as strong as the OG God who sealed Trihexa, not even close. I don't even think he has any right to be that strong, considering how he was reincarnated into a God through the System.
In Christianity, God has three aspects― namely the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The same is the case with my AU
The Son and the Father have already perished, whereas the fading Holy Spirit is what pulled Lelouch into this world and conversed with him inside seventh heaven. It had depleted most of its power operating the system during the last few centuries, and gave Lelouch everything that remained when it reincarnated him into a god— so when talking about power levels, Lelouch has about a fraction of what is meant to be the Holy Spirit's original power, which in itself is just a third of God's power.
Then there's the fact that Lelouch is the most inexperienced of all Chief-Gods and has no interest in personal combat. But even with just a fraction of God's power, he's certainly above both Satans and Seraphs— he's about as strong as a Super Devil on his own and can turn stronger if he uses the system.
This places him below the top ten of DxD but he's strong enough to be taken seriously. I could have made him stronger, but I wanted him to be weak enough that he cannot ragdoll entire factions on his lonesome and actually needs to scheme and plot around future is supposed to be cleverest, he's not supposed to be the strongest.
The pope's name was not mentioned because he's not a major character and I would rather not fictionalise such an influential and respectful IRL figure. In canon DxD, Vampires were based in Romania but they are spread across the entire Balkan region here. Also,Dulio Gesualdo is in his early teens, about fourteen years old.
As for the government, many of you have complained that creating a constitutional monarchy seems out of character for Lelouch. Good news that it is an absolute monarchy through and through― the sovereign who was the absolute head of state and had the final say on all matters judicial, legislative, and executive. Remember this part?
I did not think it would have to be spelled out but Lelouch's Heaven follows the same system of governance as Code Geass' Britannia, which also had a Supreme Court and an elected Parliament. I also remember that Schneizel was the Prime Minister of the Empire― it's just that the Charles was above the government itself as an absolute monarch and the aristocracy inherited seats in the House of Lords.
Also, the Order of the Seraphim is just Lelouch creating his version of the Knights of the Rounds in this world and they are also above the government as Charles' Round Knights and Imperial Guard were.
More about the Knightmares and the Brave Saints would be revealed in future chapters. I would end this with a fun fact- it was stated that Lelouch has learned all the skills required to be a perfect housewife.