Coup d'�tat

* * * * * * * * * * * *

November 3rd, 2022 a.t.b.

He got a call the moment he stepped inside the Palace. It was not done for an emperor to tote around a mobile, but Suzaku was not about to conform at this stage. Especially when the caller ID showed a particular number known only to Lelouch and himself.

“Sorry for calling so late. I know it’s past midnight in Pendragon, but I just wanted to ask you to check on Lelouch. He didn’t pick up when Nunnally and I called two hours ago,” Euphie said. “I thought he might be with you.”

“It’s fine. I was going to look for him. It’s supposed to be his day off, but you know him.”

“Mmmm, that’s why I called you,” Euphie said. “It’s not my job to tell the Emperor when to turn in, but as a concerned sister, I get to nag at Lelouch.”

The pointed and you too came over loud and clear.

“Yes, I get you,” Suzaku said.

“He doesn’t eat enough and spends too much time cooped up indoors.”

“The last time I tried getting him to exercise--”

“Oh that was a complete disaster, but it was so funny.” He could hear the laughter in her tone.

“I’m not going to try that again.” Suzaku looked around for a convenient attendant. “I’ll find Lelouch and give him your message.”

“See that you do. Good night, Suzaku, Nunnally sends her love too.”

After Euphie hung up, Suzaku called up the major-domo in charge of the Palace staff. Finding Lelouch in the Palace would probably easier than finding a witch.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

May 23rd, 2017 a.t.b.

It was supposed to be a routine mission to trace a truck stolen by suspected terrorists. Then they had been briefed that the objective was to retrieve a poison gas capsule that they terrorists had taken. Confidential and top secret.

The Hundredth and Fifty-Third Ground Battalion was comprised entirely of former Japanese Honorary Britannians. It did not bear repeating that they got the messiest assignments, ostensibly so that they could prove themselves.

For Kururugi Suzaku, the words of his commanding officer fell into place like pieces of a puzzle. His Geass had moved on its own accord to warn him that this was important. This was what he had been looking for. The sense of urgency dogged him as they set out into the warren of the Shinjuku Ghetto, driving him to move away from the others.

It grew more persistent as he grew closer to the source. Taking a fire alarm and sticking it next to his ear would have been less blaring.

If he was to go down this way and cut through the passageway there, he would reach the capsule before the others would. And it was imperative that he did so for it not actually a poison gas capsule. The contents were a lot more deadly, in Suzaku’s opinion.

Hey, I could hear that!

C.C.! What he had been looking for? He had been looking for a witch.

No, the tooth-fairy! Who else did you think it was? She sounded a little testy. The correct witch then.

After more than a year and half, he could hear her sardonic voice in his head again.

Where have you been?

Stuck in some lab underground. Hurry up--I’ve been waiting for ages!

Right. Left, then right again. The torturous maze of ruined buildings eventually opened out into a larger space--and there was the truck. It looked as though it had crashed through several walls on the way down. His infra-red goggles showed that the driver was still inside the cab and the Geass told him that he was mostly unconscious. There was a chance now--

But there was someone else on the scene, preventing him from moving. A smaller figure was in the back of the truck right next to the capsule. Another terrorist? For this, he would have to use the Geass--

The first thing he realised was that he could not quite see the shortest way towards neutralising the youth. It was as though the Geass could not track the possibilities around him. There had been only one other who had that much null space around them and that was because C.C. was bound to him by their contract, not to mention a witch. Suzaku had no choice now but try to knock the other out before he could see him--

The second thing he realised, as he advanced into the truck’s hold, was that the other boy was Lelouch. It had been seven years, but the alarm in his head screamed at him and pushed the image of a boy with violet eyes, black hair and fair skin to the forefront. Surprise overrode all caution and he blurted out the other’s name.

The other boy blinked rapidly in the gloom. “S-Suzaku? You’re a Britannian soldier?”

It was as though seven years had not passed. This was still his oldest friend, just two seconds away from calling him an idiot.

And he was in so much danger now--

Suzaku did not know if C.C. had been getting impatient or whether the proximity of his Geass had triggered off something. But the capsule opened abruptly between them, spilling out some sort of fluid and one extremely damp witch before he could even say another word.

She was trussed up in some sort of restraining suit and Suzaku leaned over quickly to undo the straps to free her. Lelouch moved to help him just as automatically as they had acted in tandem to rescue a fallen nest of baby birds all those years ago.

“What is this? Some kind of experiment? On humans?” Lelouch asked, his anger at everything Britannian palpable even now. This was just another demonstration of how wrong Britannia’s policies were.

Suzaku could not actually disagree with him. When he had some time after this, he would have to walk in her dreams again and find out exactly what they had done to her. Now was the present in which he had an ever narrowing window to get Lelouch and C.C. out before they were discovered.

“It’s not safe here,” he said. “You should go.”

With his blinkered abilities, Suzaku could not see the paths around his oldest friend, but he knew that the Geass had drawn them together. His eccentric Geass had not only drawn C.C. back into the picture it seemed. And what would this lead to?

C.C., take him with you. Get away now--I’ll meet up with you later!

“C.C., Lelouch, if you go back down the tunnels, you should be able to escape the cordon--”

“You know her? Suzaku, what is--”

Ah, a rash slip of the tongue--C.C. sometimes despaired that he would ever learn subtlety.

And it was then that time ran out on them. Honorary Britannians who had made it this far in military were an eager bunch. Their CO was also a demanding man who did not tolerate failure. In such a situation, when the lines between friend and foe were unclear, it was the CO’s policy to shoot first and avoid any pesky questions later.

C.C. was already turning to run as the soldiers burst in. She had grabbed Lelouch by the wrist and was towing him away despite his protests. The darkness of the tunnels were within just reach--

But they could not outrun bullets. The CO was already barking out orders. Including the one that sounded like, “Kururugi, what are you standing there for, you dumb sack of shit? Open fire!”

All that was just background noise as the Geass filled his vision with the myriad possibilities branching out from now. He certainly was not going to use his gun. There was a way for Lelouch to survive--if Suzaku chose to move. Through the Geass--like the ringing of a military-grade klaxon in his head--Suzaku was acutely aware that he stood at a point where his decision would change everything. If he should choose to save Lelouch, he would set something in motion. Something larger than he could see with his limited power.

Time was running out. And it was his move.

But there was no actual choice here for Suzaku. There never had been. Ever.

All this he knew within the skin of a second. Suzaku hoped that C.C. could hear him.

He knew what she would say. He knew what Lelouch would say.

The trajectory of the bullets could be interrupted if he was to move to the left--

A split second later, the truck exploded when the remaining terrorist regained consciousness and set off the detonation charge that had been planted under the engine.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

I can hear you--you don’t have to shout. Racing down into the abandoned subway tunnels with the boy in tow, C.C. could hear Suzaku loud and clear even as the staccato roar of machine gun fire echoed around them. The bullets nipped at their heels as they fled. A moment later, the truck exploded behind them, covering their escape with a blinding flash of light and smoke.

Coincidence? The witch did not think so. Not with Suzaku’s idiosyncratic Geass at work.

Her second though was not as charitable as his intentions became clear. You idiot.

But he would live. The bullet wounds were not lethal--provided he got medical attention in time before he bled to death. Knowing his unnatural luck, the Geass had preserved his life again.

“Suzaku’s still back there! We have to go back for him!” the other boy said, trying to get loose from her grip. But he was not physically strong--C.C. could knock him out if she had to.

“Don’t be an idiot. You’ll be killed out there--”

“But Suzaku--he--” His face twisted abruptly and there was a terrible look in his eyes as he looked at her. “They killed him. They shot one of their own--”

She wondered if she would have done as Suzaku had asked if this had not been Marianne’s son. There had been a moment when she thought that he would be killed and fate--or Suzaku’s thrice-damned Geass--had chosen to bring in the other potential acceptor she had once considered seven years ago.

It would have been so easy then. If the circumstances had forced her to choose another acceptor--one who was so conveniently angered by the death of his best friend--

It’s not that easy, Marianne. Kururugi Suzaku won’t go down so easily. And I’m protecting him because Suzaku asked me to . . .

* * * * * * * * * * * *

May 23rd, 2017 a.t.b.

Suzaku!

That idiot. What had he been thinking? Joining the military forces that had invaded Japan!

And they had just killed him when he ignored the order to open fire and got in the way.

Got in the way? No, that idiot had practically thrown himself into the path of the bullets aimed their way.

As he was dragged willy-nilly down the dark tunnels by that strange woman, a cold dispassion settled over him. He had been that close to death. He had seen his friend gunned down--

--like that time in the Ares Palace, walking in that one terrible morning to see the corpse of his mother shielding the shaking and damaged body of his sister--

Fresh blood. He could smell the coppery tang of it when that woman pulled him up one stairwell to the street above and found only death outside. His stomach acids churned at the sight of the bodies--

There were so many bodies. Newly slain bodies.

Underground again, running again to another exit that led to another street. But as they peered out cautiously, they saw that the street above was not empty. People were turning to run as guns spat forth their deadly load.

He wanted to shout at them. To tell them to get under cover. Any cover at all. But the runners were panicking and they did not think to duck into the alleyways and staircases to the underground. The tunnels had been built to withstand earthquakes after all--

That woman’s hand was clamped over his mouth as she dragged him back into the relative safety of the underground passage. But he would always remember the sight of the ghetto-dwellers being mowed down by soldiers made faceless by their helmet visors.

The gloomy darkness covered them again and they were off, racing down the cracked tile and concrete.

In the past, this had been an underground shopping mall linking the train station to the other buildings and streets. Now only broken glass was on sale in the broken storefronts. It crunched underfoot as they ran. Rounding the corner, they came across an old escalator. But it was not empty this time.

They had found the terrorists. Again.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Being shot multiple times hurt. Suzaku supposed that he was lucky that he blacked out after the bullets struck him in the right shoulder, ribs and thigh.

But he did not lose consciousness per say. Not as normal people perceived it.

He was outside his injured body, freed from his flesh by the power of the Geass. It had worked though--the bullets that would have cut them down had found their way into his body armour and other assorted body parts.

C.C. was calling him an idiot, so they were all right. Unconsciously, he had followed them down the tunnels. To his surprise, he was able to trace the chain of circumstance. This was the first time he had managed to work around the limitations of his ability. He supposed that it would be all right if he focused on the environment and not the people involved. In this time and this place--he had to know how the consequences now that he had used that power at such a juncture.

His actions had not gone unnoticed. Don’t be an idiot! You can’t leave your body like that! What if you never find your way back?

C.C. reached out to him then, gathering him to her.

A disorientating moment later, he was inside her world again. They were standing in front of an image of a scene that was both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Familiar because it was of two children--recognisably Lelouch and himself--and unfamiliar because it was from the perspective of someone who was watching them from a distance.

A stalker to the end, eh?

Well, you were the one who was looking for me C.C. said, folding her arms.

Aa, it’s been a long ti--

Don’t you give me your it’s been a long time, you repressed idiot. Not in here. C.C. glared at him. When you get out of the hospital, I will kick you so hard.

I missed you too Suzaku said. Can you show me what’s going on? Right now?

Demands, demands . . . C.C. muttered, but the museum of her memories shifted around them. Pizza for an entire week, when you get out of the hospital.

Nodding absently, Suzaku looked down at the modern television screen that had appeared beside them. The scene it showed was akin to someone holding a video camera while running through the underground tunnels of Shinjuku. Occasionally, it would swivel around dizzyingly to show what lay behind. Lelouch was visible then, out of breath and being dragged along.

C.C. TV? he asked.

That was an awful pun and you know it.

But Suzaku found very little to laugh at as the view of the tunnels changed. C.C. and Lelouch were trying to find an exit via the disused staircases that led to the street level. One try had led to a street full of freshly dead bodies. The next--

Lelouch was almost as fast as C.C. as they retreated back into the subway tunnels. Away from the almost execution-style firing squad that was mowing down an assembled group of Japanese.

They’re killing unarmed people? The sound of machine gun fire stilled echoed in the silence of her world. As though he had heard it with his own ears.

They aren’t exactly asking them to come in quietly to be rehabilitated.

It had come to this at last. The Britannians were razing the ghetto.

The order was given probably because I escaped C.C. said matter-of-factly.

No, of course not Suzaku said even as his metaphorical heart sank to his metaphorical feet. They would have used any reason to start . . .

Ethnic cleansing. Such an ugly term, but it was unavoidable now that the Britannian government had made its move. They did not even need a pretext like “escaped top-secret lab experiment”. All that had been holding them back had been the troublesome expenditure of manpower and energy. Now, the way was clear for further expansion of the Tokyo Settlement.

He was, as usual, too late to do anything. Too powerless to stop the juggernaut of the Britannian military from crushing the ghetto. The only thing he had managed to do was to save Lelouch and get C.C. out--only to have them running through the ghetto at the mercy of the soldiers who had been given leave to go on a killing spree.

Suzaku had to remind himself that it never helped to think that things could not get any worse. From what he could see on the television screen, Lelouch and C.C. had stumbled across what looked like a small gang of armed terrorists.

In the middle of this confusing muddle of circumstances and consequences, the Geass shrilled its warning at him so loudly that C.C. took a step back.

What is it? she asked. Another warning?

It’s coming on too strong--another one . . . Suzaku heard himself mumble, staring sightlessly at the screen. Oh no . . . not like that. Lelouch! Don’t!

On the screen representing her perception, the image wavered and flickered as his Geass sought to project itself. The witch’s soft gasp was audible even to him. This was unprecedented--he was able to trace the consequences of this meeting despite Lelouch’s connection with him. Suzaku only wished that he was in the right frame of mind to appreciate it.

Have to s-stop him . . . he’s going to--

Calm down. You’re babbling. C.C. reached out to place her hands on his head even though that sort of thing was not needed here, in this place. Focus on the path you were following--

He’s going to kill his brother . . . and there will be no turning back after that Suzaku gasped. The images on the screen solidified--but these scenes were not of the present. These were the possible futures, crystallising out of the events happening now. And the options were shrinking fast.

The witch looked at him, suddenly wide-eyed. Do you know why you’re able to do this? It’s because you’re dying. Your body is losing too much blood and you’re already separated from it for too long.

C.C.’s world was rapidly darkening around them--an ominous sign.

I need to stay-- This was important. He had to see what consequences had resulted from his actions. If only he could stop Lelouch. Or see what lay beyond the blood-stained throne . . .

In that moment, Suzaku suddenly saw everything all too clearly. Lelouch’s next move had been motivated by what he thought was Suzaku’s death and an attempt at recovering what could never be regained. His so-called demise had been the spark to the fuse of a powder keg of hatred that had been stored up for too long. It’s impossible . . . it’s not going to be the same--

Do you think being discorporate forever is any fun? You need to go back. Now. C.C. seemed to be blurring in and out of his vision.

Tell him--

But he was fading away as his own body claimed him back, tying him down to his mortal shell once more.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

23rd May, 2017 a.t.b

It could have been worse.

The terrorists holding them at gunpoint in an old subway underpass could have been ruthless nationalists. Or trigger-happy Japanese with grudges against Britannians. It was probably fortunate that these terrorists were much too busy arguing about what to do with them instead of actually shooting them. It was not so fortunate that one of them was his classmate from Ashford and they would probably have to kill him eventually to conceal her double life.

Lelouch vaguely remembered her as Kallen Stadtfeld, the girl who had shown up for approximately one day of the new term. Any hope of him not remembering her and vice versa was dashed when she blurted out that he was Vice-President of the Student Council at Ashford. He could have cheerfully strangled her there and then if there had not been two guns trained on him and that strange woman from the capsule.

That girl . . . who the hell is she? This particular avenue of thought yielded nothing useful no matter how many times Lelouch turned it over in his head. What was important now was surviving this catastrophic day and making it back home to Nunnally.

Nunnally . . . How in the world was he going to tell her that he had met Suzaku again and he was dead not two minutes later? His fists clenched involuntarily. Lelouch hated being powerless. Hated that idiot for throwing his life away so easily.

That look on his face before the bullets hit. That idiot. The part of him that was not coolly floating above the morass of fear and panic was busy being in denial.

It was easier to hate Britannia and its screwed up policies. It was easier to hate that man.

But what could he do about it now? He had narrowly escaped from death once that day, be he did not feel cowed. In fact, it was beginning to feel distinctly like the opposite of cowed . . .

He looked over at the so-called terrorists. There were five of them including Kallen Stadtfeld. From what snatches Lelouch overheard of their discussion, someone’s KMF was out of commission, their leader was on the way and they were still stymied over the matter of Lelouch and the strange girl.

This was intolerable. They could not even stage a revolt properly.

Standing up, Lelouch marched up to the terrorists, who looked at him in surprise.

“Oi, kid, stay put,” one of them said. “If you need to go to the toilet, you can do it in the corner there--”

“If you’re going to sit here all day, you might as well just walk out in front of the soldiers,” Lelouch said, “because you’re achieving the same thing by sitting down here on your asses.”

“What--”

“You don’t even have the nerve kill us both and be done with it!”

“Hey, we don’t kill bystanders in cold blood!” Kallen said angrily. “You’re lucky you didn’t wind up captured by the hardliners.”

“Don’t bother arguing with the kid,” said one of the older members of the group. “He’s just a snotty-nosed brat--”

“Who is telling you that a squad of octogenarian grandmothers would have ten times more fighting spirit than you lot,” Lelouch injected. “While you are hiding here, the Britannians are razing the ghetto! Take some responsibility for what you started!”

Kallen looked like she wanted to hit him. “We didn’t start this. Your people started it when you invaded--”

“But your g--”

“Shut up, you’re only a student, Buriki bastard! What do you know?” the one known as Tamaki barked when Lelouch made to reply. From what Lelouch had observed, he was probably the dimmest of the lot. “You’re just mouthing off!”

“Oh?” Lelouch looked up and even the tougher insurgents were apprehensive of what they saw there. “Then I’ll prove it to you. I’ll show you a miracle.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The witch had a policy of non-interference when it did not concern her designated acceptor.

She did not care so long as the one she had given the Geass to was alive and unhurt. That they were currently the reluctant guests of a band of rag-tag terrorists who could barely tie their own shoelaces together was entirely secondary to the fact that Suzaku was being picked up by the emergency medical unit that had been alerted by the explosion of the truck.

It might be a little while more before she could slip away. The five Japanese who were their current captors had been just as surprised when they had rounded the corner. They did not need the burden of two hostages on top of an escalating situation. The witch was not overly concerned about what they would do to her, but there was still the matter of the boy that Suzaku worked so hard to protect.

That boy was currently looking at her, no doubt trying to puzzle out her identity and connection with Suzaku. The truth might be a little beyond him at the moment--irony of ironies.

Suzaku might be a little more than upset if he dies down here . . .

The boy--Lelouch--had stood up and was talking to the terrorists. Most people in his situation would not antagonise their armed captors. Perhaps he was counting on that fact to throw the terrorists off as he proposed something that made their jaws drop.

It could get him shot. Or not. That imperious voice and the sheer arrogance in his bearing should have given them a clue--even terrorists not at home with royalty should have realised that this was no ordinary schoolboy.

He was looking at her again, this time gesturing animatedly to the dubious terrorists, who were not hardened enough to shoot a youth for merely being Britannian in cold blood.

After a few more minutes, the terrorists went into a tight huddle and Lelouch came over to the corner where she sat.

“Look, I don’t know if you even understand what I’m saying,” he began, squatting down in front of her to look her in the face, “but I need your help to do something. You probably don’t want to go back to whoever it was that put you inside that capsule, so we’re going to pretend for a while--”

But your boy is interesting too, Marianne . . .

* * * * * * * * * * * *

May 23rd, 2017 a.t.b.

“This is insane,” Kaname Ougi muttered as they marched right into the heart of the Britannian military command.

“Then why are you here? Tamaki also volunteered,” Kallen hissed at him under her breath. They were dressed in the uniforms they had taken off the soldiers they had ambushed--with amazing success--at the boy’s instigation. The words had sounded like orders coming from his mouth.

And what orders! The boy--Lelouch--had detailed out his plan, which everyone had said was just plain crazy. But he had also said that they had a chance at stopping the razing of the ghetto. The Britannians were set on clearing out the Japanese by force and if they stayed put, they would be wiped out as well.

Put that way . . .

People who had nothing to lose could afford to take risks. When Ougi had heard that they had a problem, he had personally come down after hiding his KMF in the ruins of the subway tunnel nearby. The situation had spiralled out of control after that.

The school teacher in him was against Kallen fighting in her brother’s place. It was even more against another student--a Britannian student no less--directing the operation. But no-one else had any better ideas and there was something about the boy that made them uneasy. He was too young to be so ruthless. Yet the hatred within him had been apparent even to Tamaki. Real enough for at least two of them to agree to his insane plan. He only needed two people, the boy had said. Plus the green-haired girl.

“There will be more surprises before the day is out, I promise you this,” the boy called Lelouch had said. He had also said that they were free to shoot him anytime if his plan did not appear to be working. It was unnerving.

It still did not explain why the three of them were disguised as soldiers and escorting the strange girl in the restraining suit right into the hands of the Britannians. Only the slender promise of a miracle had led them to this pass.

Kallen and Lelouch could pass as junior foot soldiers provided no-one asked them to speak or raise their visors. Ougi, being the one most able to look and sound like an experienced soldier, had the lion’s share of acting to do.

He ripped off a salute to the most senior officer in sight when they encountered a squad on patrol around the command centre.

“State your business!”

“Yes, sir--we were told to report to the Prince directly. It’s top secret--Level Alpha,” Ougi said, reciting the script Lelouch had prepared. “Our orders were regarding the recovery of the capsule.”

The officer sneered at him in a very genteel fashion and reached for his communicator. “We’ll see what high command says about that . . .”

A short conversation later, the officer looked suitably deflated and Ougi felt giddy with relief as he did not order his men to shoot them on the spot.

“High command needs to speak to you,” the officer said, looking slightly more respectful as he handed over a handset.

Trying not to swallow in his nervousness, Ougi placed the receiver to his ear. Lelouch had predicted even this. “This is Team Omega-alpha-two reporting in, sir. We picked up a distress call from the Hundredth and Fifty-Third Battalion. The CO said that the capsule opened but they recovered that.”

Ougi held his breath. This was the final test . . . If it worked, they were in. If it did not work, the end would be coming a lot faster than the one coming to them if they stayed in the Shinjuku ghetto.

“By that do you mean a girl? Slightly built? Green hair?” the man on the other end barked urgently. He sounded like a high-ranking officer who had too many things on his mind. “Don’t mention any details! Just reply yes or no!”

“Yes, sir!” Ougi let out the breath he had been holding.

“Listen carefully, you are to bring that here to the command centre at once and make sure that no-one else sees her,” said the high-ranker. “Avoid contact as much as possible. On my orders and the Prince’s.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Put Lieutenant Crossley back on.”

“Yes, sir.” Ougi turned to the Britannian officer. “It’s for you, sir.”

The Lieutenant took the receiver and stiffened as orders were relayed to him. “Yes, sir--I understand, sir . . . ”

With the harried look of someone who had just been passed a very important burden, the Lieutenant started snapping out orders. “You are to proceed to command HQ. General Bartley Asprius’ orders! We are to escort you there post-haste. Squad, form up! Shields up!”

The foot soldiers presented their riot shields and formed a wall. The quartet were surrounded and hustled away behind the shield wall. They were smoothly passed onto the inner circle of defences, behind which the armoured bulk of the command centre sat like a squat metallic toad, overseeing the battlefield--if it could even be called that.

The reinforced hatch of the mobile command centre was opening when they approached and they were waved forward without question. A stout man with the epaulets and tabs that signified a general hurried to meet them. Remembering his cues, Ougi saluted the general and tried to act as though this sort of thing was commonplace.

Their escort was stripped away quickly and they were ushered to the upper level. Along the way, the general barked out questions.

“Did you speak to anyone en route? Did she say anything?”

“Only the Lieutenant--Crossley. No, sir. Not a word, sir.” Secrecy was paramount--the entirety of Lelouch’s plan hinged on the prince’s desire to keep this matter under wraps.

“Good, good,” the general muttered distractedly, toggling open another door. “You’ll have to watch her until we can get another containment unit here. Your Highness, the recovery was successful!”

The man seated on a dais at the hub of the command centre on the other side of the door was Clovis la Britannia, Viceroy of Area 11. He was an attractive man by Britannian standards, but he did not appear as polished as he usually did on the video broadcasts. The obvious look of relief that crossed his face when they entered with their important captive only accentuated the haggardness that seemed to haunt his features.

“Thank goodness!” the prince said, getting up from his throne-like chair.

“Please remain where you are, Your Highness,” Bartley implored, waving Ougi and the others into the corner next to the door. “It’s best if you avoid contact with the subject. This will only be temporary until the containment unit arrives.”

“Bartley, make sure no-one saw them and instruct the escort that this was just a routine prisoner recovery,” the prince said, his voice sounding a lot shriller than it usually was in the news broadcasts. He must have been overly anxious and more highly-strung than his demeanour let on, for that last order only left two other guards in the chamber with them as the portly general bustled to obey.

“Do this job right and there could be a promotion in it for you,” Bartley hissed at them as he hurried out. “Just make sure she stays put and doesn’t speak to anyone. Or touch anyone.”

“At ease, men. A commendation will be in order . . . provided you exercise discretion,” the prince said, seating himself again. “Nothing of this will leave this place and you will not discuss this even amongst yourselves.”

It would be Clovis’ final order, for Lelouch shot one of the guards while reaching for the privacy lock on the doors. The odds were even better than Lelouch had predicted. His original projection had factored their entry into the command, but being brought into the presence of the Viceroy was an added bonus.

In accordance to the plan, Ougi squeezed his trigger before the other guard could react. Kallen had been tasked to cover them both and keep an eye on the other Britannians in the vicinity--namely the Viceroy.

In the space that it took to kill the guards, said prince had not moved. Only his mouth moved, lips opening and closing soundlessly as though he could not believe what was happening. Ougi knew what he felt. He had agreed to do the shooting so that Kallen would not have to do it. It was bad enough that she had already shed blood on the battlefield, but this was something else altogether.

“Prince Clovis, I believe you have something to say to your men,” Lelouch said smoothly. There was no deference in that tone as he levelled his gun at the prince.

The sense of surrealism did not seem to let up as the boy prodded Clovis to order the ground troops to withdraw and call off aerial surveillance. He shot furtive looks at Kallen from under his visor and realised that she too was looking from him to Lelouch and the prince. Throughout it all, the green-haired girl in the white suit just stood there . . . and watched as though she was a spectator well-removed from this scene.

“There, are you satisfied with that?” Clovis asked as he turned the communicator off. He had regained a certain degree of composure during his ordeal and Ougi was afraid that he would summon the guards in by pressing the emergency alarm. But Lelouch had other ideas.

“That’ll do for now, Clovis. You always were one for pompous speeches,” Lelouch said, doffing his helmet and shaking out his hair.

Ougi froze--this was not in the plan. But like Kallen, he could only watch as Lelouch knelt on one knee before the dais that Clovis sat upon.

“I have returned, my brother.”

“L-Lelouch?” Clovis jerked forwards, eyes widening in disbelief. “Lelouch! It is you! We thought you were dead! Th-this means Nunnally is alive too? Are you both all right?”

The impossible had happened. Ougi felt the cold sweat that had accumulated in the past hour turning to ice as the prince’s words chilled him to the bone. This was larger than anything he had ever expected. And he should have realised that there were not that many seventeen-year old Britannian boys called Lelouch running around Japan.

Lelouch vi Britannia . . . the lost prince.

Kallen might have been too young to remember, but Ougi recalled the newspaper reports of the royal siblings who had come to Japan under the polite fiction of being foreign students. Everyone knew that they were political hostages and when the war broke out, no-one was surprised that Nunnally and Lelouch vi Britannia had been killed.

Apparently everyone had been wrong.

“Indeed,” Lelouch said, rising to his feet, but still holding the gun at the prince--his brother. “My sister is well, thank you for asking.”

“This is wonderful!” the prince said, but even Ougi could detect the slight note of hysteria in his voice. “We can go back to the homeland together!”

“I have to decline, Clovis,” the younger prince replied. “But you will do me the courtesy of confessing your involvement in my mother’s death.”

“What? Lady Marianne--no, I had nothing to do with that!” Clovis said. “I was only sevente--”

“You and I both know that scheming has no age restrictions in Britannia. Out with it or I will shoot you--”

“Lelouch--I’m your brother!” Clovis protested. “We may have diff--aaagggggghhh!”

Like Kallen, Ougi had jumped when Lelouch had fired. But he had not been aiming to kill. Clovis was staring fixedly at the bullet hole in the seat cushion between his knees.

Lelouch’s voice gave no hint that he was speaking to a blood relative. “The next bullet will be aimed at your kneecap, so help me if I miss--”

“I had nothing to do with it! You have to believe me!” Clovis in a state . . . was not very attractive at all. The dark stain that was spreading along the seat of his trousers from his crotch was evidence that the prince had momentarily lost control of himself. “Schneizel was ordered to take charge of the investigation by our father! And--and I think Cornelia might have been investigating it on her own . . .”

“Is that all?”

“Yes, you have to believe me!” Clovis repeated. “Please, Lelouch, let’s just go home and leave all this behind--”

“Leave all what behind? The bodies of the people you killed to hide your little secret?” Lelouch jerked his chin at the green-haired girl. “Experiments on humans, brother? You’re deathly afraid of getting caught . . . In fact, this is the sort of thing you could be banished for--”

“I--I can explain--”

“Spare me. Science was never your strong suit,” Lelouch said dismissively. “This is probably some half-baked scheme to make our father take notice of you. Still trying to one-up Schneizel, hm?”

“But it’s not half-baked! Lelouch, I’ll share the credit with you--”

“Clovis, stop this distasteful display. I am not interested in having anything to do with this,” Lelouch said. “However, please do me one last favour and give this message to Britannia.”

“What mes--”

Two quiet pops from the gun was all it took. Kallen made an involuntary noise and Ougi swallowed back bile as Clovis la Britannia, Imperial Prince and Viceroy slumped backwards. At this range, even a scrawny boy like Lelouch could not miss his target. But this was no boy, Ougi realised as he tore his gaze away from the bloodstains on the wall

“That this is only the beginning,” Lelouch said, lowering his gun. “The beginning of the end for Britannia.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Oh, he’s very interesting, Marianne . . . but how far can he go before he too desires the Power of Kings?

* * * * * * * * * * * *