Chapter 6: Consultant (Second Part)

“Amiya, returns as soon as you can. There has been a... situation, with Lelouch.”

The Cautus didn’t immediately start running the moment she finished reading the message, but only because she has yet to finish with her tasks. However once that was done, as quickly as possible without appearing rude, she wasted no time excusing herself and making a beeline for the containment complex where Kallen Kouzuki was staying. The Doctor followed after her, having received the same message from Kal'tsit but not being too worried about it: the Feline woman was strict and no-nonsense in everything she did, and if there was an emergency she would have said so instead of being vague.

He knew Amiya was aware of it too, having worked with Kal'tsit for far longer, but it appeared worry for Lelouch made her forget about that. It was kind of cute actually... if one didn’t know about Amiya’s unique talents, nor did they have the chance to see Lelouch open the lid he usually kept on his emotions. The Doctor was partially guilty of feeling very invested in the purple-eyes youth, if for different reasons.

He had been overly harsh to Lelouch when they first discussed Chess, but only because the exiled prince reminded the Doctor of someone he still had mixed feelings about. He suspected it was the same for Amiya. And yet, as of now the resemblance was only partial: precisely because of that, he held a strong wish to keep it from becoming complete. To ensure Lelouch didn’t fall into the same abyss that swallowed too many lives back on Terra.

It wasn’t for atonement. He was skeptical about undeniable success making him feel better. But at least, it would not make him feel worse.

The door slid open with a hiss of hydraulic cylinders, temporarily banishing such dark thoughts as the Doctor’s battlefield instincts had him immediately take stock of the situation inside. Kallen seemed calm, curious even as she observed the people on the other side of the glass wall; Silence and the others were gathered together around one of the terminals discussing something, and from their gestures and expressions he waged they were making progress of some kind. There was a new face among them, a green-haired girl with glasses that matched Lelouch’s description of Nina Einstein, though she looked anything but shy as she pushed Warfarin’s face away and pointed at a series of hastily scribbled notes as if they held the secrets to the universe.

And finally, the main guest himself: Lelouch was sitting in a wheelchair, wrapped in heavy blankets and pale enough that, were his ears pointed and eyes red, he could pass for a Vampire like Warfarin and Closure. But his skin was dry and he looked as cognizant as ever. Also extremely miserable, but that may be due to Kal'tsit standing nearby and glaring at him like a grandmother disappointed in her reckless nephew.

“Lelouch!” Amiya came to a halt a few feet from them, a worried look on her face. She nodded in greeting to Kal'tsit before focusing back on Lelouch. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ll live.” The exiled prince answered in a raspy voice, as if he spent the last half hour shouting at the top of his lungs.

“You need to sleep, and soon.” The Feline Doctor remarked, arms crossed and looking as if she sadly considered herself the only sane person around. “This stubborn brat kept pushing himself without letting the medicine runs its course until the nausea was too strong to ignore. Even then, your body can’t begin recovering until you let it rest Lelouch.”

“I made a promise to see this to its end.” He protested, trying very hard to sound as composed as ever. Amazingly enough, but maybe not really, he only looked petulant.

“Yes, and it resulted in you causing yet another problem.”

The Doctor looked around. “Sooo... what happened, exactly? What is the problem here?”

Kal'tsit sighed. “The problem is that Lelouch accidentally used his Geass on Nina Einstein, because he let himself become too sick to think properly. And it resulted in both a short seizure and the complete change in personality you can see even now.”

“Ah.” It was a simple sound, yet it conveyed a great amount of meaning. The Doctor didn’t say anything else, because to him it was clear how loaded the unspoken questions were. That didn’t mean he would not ask them, but only after getting a full picture.

Amiya didn’t have such restraints. She went ramrod straight, face turning almost expressionless. For a few seconds the Cautus just stared in silence at Lelouch, as if looking for something specific, then before anyone could protest she grabbed the wheelchair and wheeled it around so that she was staring Lelouch right in the eyes. And this time, he was not the one between them who had red eyes.

“You are not to treat that ability lightly ever again, or make use of it before we have extensively tested its limits and capabilities, do I make myself clear?” It was not a request or a heartfelt plea. Despite the questioning tone at the end it was very much an order. Amiya’s expression was severe, and while she loomed over Lelouch only because the raven-haired boy was currently seated it did nothing to diminish the solemnity of her words.

Even more shocking, rather than protesting or attempting a justification Lelouch just lowered his gaze. “Yes.” He said almost meekly. “It is clear now why I shouldn’t.”

“Good.” Amiya eventually nodded, seemly satisfied with Lelouch’s answer. Stepping back she turned her head and saw both Kal'tsit and the Doctor looking at her with raised eyebrows. Immediately the Cautus blushed in embarrassment, her previous bearing shattering into a million pieces. “S-So! Are there been improvements in Miss Kouzuki’s situation?”

“I’ll gladly answer that!” The cheerful voice that answered Amiya’s question didn’t come from either Kal'tsit or Lelouch, which in hindsight would have freaked out the Cautus more than a little. The green-haired girl who was talking with Warfarin and the others approached Amiya and thrust her hand forward, a big smile on her lips. “Hello, my name is Nine Einstein. Ashford Academy student, future scientist, really glad to be alive and... that’s about it for now, I suppose. You must be Amiya and the Doctor, respectively the Face and Mind of Rhodes Island I heard so much about, correct?”

“N-Nice to meet you?” Despite being caught off-guard by the unexpected friendliness Amiya shook Nina’s offered hand. Nothing about the bespectacled girl’s emotions felt wrong or forced, not like Clovis while under Geass, making Amiya wonder what exactly Lelouch’s order did. And if maybe she didn’t overact: he still needed a proper scolding, but it probably would have been best to hear the whole story first.

“Nice to meet you Nina.” The Doctor shook the girl’s hand next. “The Face and the Mind, uh? I can’t say how much my moniker is accurate with so many geniuses around, but Amiya’s own is pretty spot-on. And what did they say about Kal'tsit?”

“I asked, and Ptilopsis was about to answer before Warfarin slapped a hand over her mouth, hissing ‘you idiot she can hear us!’. At which point Folinic asked why that should be an issue, Warfarin tried very hard to change the topic and Silence quietly lamented the waste of time.” Nina replied, seemly unaware or uncaring of the scared look sent her way by a certain Vampire.

“Irrelevant.” Kal'tsit cut into the conversation. “Silence’s right, this is a waste of time. Nina, any progress?”

“Oh yes!” The green-haired girl nodded. “We needed to do a lot of cross-references and mutual explanations about our respective fields, let me say that while Originium’s horrifying its potential is amazing, but the biggest breakthrough happened when I realized something. The radiation? It’s not nuclear, not strictly: it’s Sakuradite radiation!”

“Sakuradite is radioactive?” Lelouch whispered, looking very disturbed by the revelation.

“Very little, and only in large quantities. Anything used for civilian purposes is safe to handle, and what they use in the military is shielded.” Nina waved a hand. “Sakuradite blowing up due to being improperly excited is a much common problem. But yes, that’s why I considered it in my research along with other, more traditional radioactive materials. Beside Sakuradite also being an excellent energy conductor, of course.”

“You know, I’m not exactly thrilled that my supposed ‘savior’ is still a student, or Britannian.” Kallen suddenly chimed in. Her anger has simmered down to a few embers by now, thanks to a good workout and a few hours of sleep, but they have yet to truly die out.

“Yes, yes. You have mentioned it plenty already, Miss Kozuki.” Nina easily brushed off the aggressive words, too engrossed with her data and the explanation. “Now, I estimated that the best way to reduce Kallen’s output is to treat her as an active isotope, and handle her in the same way I hypothesized handling the radioactive fuel for my generators.”

“Which is?” The Doctor asked.

“To cool Miss Kozuki down, we need to... well, cool her down. Literally. Keep her temperature low to stabilize the reaction and keep it running at the lowest output.” Nina fiddled with her glasses. “Now, on a theoretical level my first proposed solution would be an insulated container, a load of coolant and a breathing apparatus-”

“I am not going to live my life IN A TEST TUBE!” Kallen roared, instantly livid at the mere suggestion. It was followed by an alarm announcing a sudden increase in the radiation output.

“And that’s why I said on a theoretical level, Miss Kozuki. Please, I’m not going to ignore basic human rights.” Nina, despite being a little shaken, still managed to find the strength to roll her eyes. “Secondary option is a... let’s call it an inverse hazmat suit: a full-body suit containing the coolant. Except, well, she would have to wear it constantly. Every hour of every day. And if she takes it off she’d become a radioactive hazard.”

“Again, I’m not exactly thrilled at the prospect of trying to pilot a Knightmare wearing that either,” Kallen commented. Still a ridiculous proposal, but they were moving in the right direction. At the very least with a suit she could move around. “Much less living a normal life.”

Nina took a moment to glance upwards. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that first bit...” Helping save a life and exploring revolutionary fields of science was all well and good, but she was trying very hard to not think about what those people (as likable as they were) got up in the rest of their time. Ignorance was not bliss, never in a thousand years, but staying strictly on the relevant topic certainly helped a lot. “Nonetheless, we’re running out of options. So, if anyone knows a way to safely keep Miss Kozuki’s core temperature down in a safe, effective, and subtle manner then this is the moment to speak up.”

“Aaactually, I may have one!”

Everyone moved their head to stare at the one who spoke, Warfarin looking back with a confident smirk on her lips and one hand raised like a diligent student during a lesson.

“Is it morally reprehensible?” The Doctor asked without missing a beat. The expression on both Lelouch and Kallen’s faces screamed ‘why is that the first thing you ask, and how much do we need to worry?’.

“Absolutely not!” The Sarkaz Vampire hotly denied it. “More... dubious.”

“Morally dubious?”

“Just dubious.” Despite her best efforts, nothing about Warfarin felt even remotely trustworthy. Kal’tsit resisted the urge to roll her eyes and gestured for the other woman to continue. “It’s an old idea I tooled with a-some time ago. Never got around testing it, but hey, first time for everything, right?”

“I am concerned.” Kallen helpfully informed everyone, the tone so dry it was like a desert during summer.

“Oh ye of little faith.” Moving to a different terminal Warfarin proceeded to log into Rhodes Island’s private network, with PRTS requiring several passwords. “There are people who would literally kill for the chance to look at my old ideas’ archive.”

“The only one who would is Aak.” Silence sounded like she spoke only because someone had to.

“And unlike other people, he can appreciate revolutionary instead of only asking for boring practical stuff.” Warfarin sniffed in disdain. “Anyway, where is it... Ah, here! I’ll print it so that everyone can see.”

Less than a minute later the printed schematics were ready, which Warfarin cheerfully passed around. “The big hitch here is the amount of liquid coolant needed: the less there is to deal with, the more easily Miss Kozuki can move around. Now, decreasing the temperature of the coolant to increase its effectiveness won’t work, because even at Kallen’s high temperature it would kill her. So instead, we need to apply it in a more... direct fashion.”

Silence, Ptilopsis and Kal’tsit considered them thoughtfully, recognizing the unorthodoxy of Warfarin’s idea but realizing that, if applied properly, it could represent the breakthrough they were searching for.

Both Amiya and Folinic winced slightly, for it was not an easy sight even for them who walked several battlefields. “Oooh, I haven’t thought of this solution. Actually, change this and this and maybe...” By contrast, Nina was very much engrossed with the design and wasted no time pestering Warfarin for more details.

The Doctor looked at the schematics, hummed and turned his head to a frowning Lelouch. “What do you think?”

“Talking as someone with next to none medical knowledge? That I hope Warfarin knows what she’s doing.” The exiled prince replied.

“Hey!” Kallen yelled, rapping her knuckles over the glass wall despite the fact nobody could hear the sound but her. “I want to see too!”

“As the interested party... sure!” The Doctor easily answered, walking up to the wall and holding up the schematics for her to read.

At first the redhead didn’t react in a visible way, slightly biting her lower lip while looking all over Warfarin’s design. Like Lelouch Kallen didn’t possess medical knowledge beyond treating light injuries, and also how to properly pace herself during physical training, but the figures gave a very good idea of what the procedure would involve. And the fact that would be done to her... well, it gave Kallen a lot to think about.

So she just went ‘screw it’ and followed her instincts. “Alright, I’ll take this one.”

Such a quick answer took most of those present by surprise. “Miss Kozuki, I need you to think about your options more thoroughly.” Kal’tsit informed Kallen, having recovered the fastest. “It’s not only because this procedure is untested: due to the radiation and our lack of familiarity with it, we can't risk giving you any sedative or anesthetic during the surgery.”

“So it’ll hurt a lot. What are the alternatives?” Kallen waved a hand. “Living inside a test tube or an inflated balloon for the rest of my life? I’ll take my chance with some temporary pain.”

“It will be more than just some pain.”

“Still not budging.”

“...Very well. If you cannot be swayed, then remember that it was you who chose this path.” Kal’tsit warned, but not in disapproval. To handle the consequences of your own decisions was a lesson she followed all her life and tried to teach to everyone, though those with few regrets were rare. In her case, it was beyond counting. “Warfarin, Silence, Ptilopsis: begin setting the operation room. Folinic, escort Miss Einstein somewhere she can wait and then return.”

“I’m staying.” Nina said before the Feline could open her mouth. The green-haired girl crossed her arms, a stubborn expression on her face. “You’ll need active monitoring of the radiation. I came here to do a job, and I’m not leaving until it’s done.”

Kal’tsit looked at Nina with a barely noticeable frown, then at Lelouch. “Are all Britannians so stubborn?” The Feline doctor asked with a slightly exasperated tone as she rubbed her temple.

Lelouch laughed. “No, only those who go to Ashford Academy.”

“Fine. You’re right about needing active monitoring. But you, Lelouch, are going to rest. Amiya.”

“Yes Doctor Kal’tsit!” Without wasting a moment the Cautus moved behind Lelouch’s wheelchair and grabbed the handles. “Don’t worry Lelouch, Miss Kozuki’s in good hands.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” The raven-haired boy sighed, offering no further protests as Amiya wheeled him out of the room. Before moving through the door, however, he decided that some extra motivation could not hurt. “Stay alive, Q1. I can certainly win against Britannia without you, but it wouldn’t be half as fun.”

“Oh that’s it!” Kallen yelled, temperature rising once again but much lesser than before. “I’m definitely surviving this, if only to spite you!”

He was counting on it.

====​

“Cicci!” The only visible sign of C.C.’s displeasure and annoyance was a light twitching of one eyebrow. But honestly, for the green-haired girl it was a natural reaction to having her name being mangled into a dish based on legumes. Or maybe, it had more to do with Ceobe almost tackling C.C. in her haste to hug the Immortal. While the Perro was still carrying her impressive, and heavy, collection of weapons. “Vulcan’s awake! They said she’s awake! Yay!”

“Hello Ceobe.” C.C. grunted as she tried to straighten up her spine without making it seem like she was pushing Ceobe away. She may hate her Code and wanted it gone as soon as possible, but she could not deny the advantages it brought: regeneration was just the biggest one, it also made her body tougher than most. A bullet to the brain or the heart would still kill her, yes, but other types of injuries had a much-lowered effect. “The one who cooks honey biscuits, yes?”

“That’s Vulcan!” Having thankfully got her fill Ceobe released C.C. from the hug and started bouncing on the balls of her feet. “She’s finally awake, they told me so! I’m going to see her, wanna come?”

The green-haired girl considered it. Since escaping from Folinic she managed to avoid any medical check-ups, though she must admit it had less to do with C.C.’s amazing stealth skills (just like many other things, plenty of practice) and more with the cat-eared doctor temporarily giving up on the chase. Eavesdropping let C.C. learn there was some kind of emergency that had Rhodes Island’s medical top brass very busy, with Folinic assisting Kal’tsit as her assistant and top pupil. She was ready to bet Lelouch was involved somehow, either by chance or willingly.

Until now the current state of affairs let her explore the base at her leisure. One thing that quickly became evident was that Terra was inhabited by several different races, some of them radically different than just ‘human with animal bits attached’. Just a few minutes ago C.C. passed past a straight-up white, bipedal tiger: two meters tall, the guy was built like a heavyweight wrestler who decided to train by hunting bears barehanded. Yes, the spikes on his jacket and boots looked silly in theory but the noticeable glint of their very sharp edges quickly banished such silly notions.

And yet, he nodded politely and stepped aside to let C.C. pass while calling her ‘Ma’am’ in a polite and cultured voice. Very bizarre. Very interesting.

If things went well, she may even be able to end everything on a high note. “Sure, lead the way.”

Ceobe led C.C. deeper into the buried landship’s bowels, white sterile walls giving way to a more spartan environment. The chatter of people dealing with a complicated situation left place to the hum of machinery and the sound of metal striking metal. The air was hotter too, with the AC active only in certain corridors and crossroads before disappearing entirely. Once she reached a specific door, very thick and likely insulated, Ceobe quickly slapped a button on the nearby wall keyboard and the door slid open, releasing even hotter air that will surely ruin C.C.’s hair. Good thing they regenerate and she didn’t care (too much). “Vulcan! I’m here Vulcan!”

The room was furnished like a modern forge, the small type artists use to make custom works instead of a large industrialized one. There were differences, machines and tools that looked out of place but C.C. wasn’t enough of an expert to say why and how much. Sitting before an anvil and busy hammering on a red hot piece of metal, not even slowing down as she raised her head to smile in Ceobe’s direction, was a girl around C.C.’s height: she was wearing a black jacket with a thick hooded sweater under it despite the heat, with a very shot skirt and knee-high stockings completing the ensemble. Of particular note were the two bull-like horns coming out of her hoodie through specially made holes, one of which lacked the upper part as if cut in half, and the mechanical prosthesis that replaced the girl’s right leg. The overall technology of the prosthetic was rather rudimentary compared to the models Britannia had developed, but it certainly looked to be no less functional for it.

“Hello, Ceobe. Glad to see you’re doing fine.” The one named Vulcan happily greeted back. Now C.C. could see black crystals growing out of the red-eyes girl’s right cheek and above her eyebrow, clearly marking her as an Infected. Previously C.C. wondered if Originium could be a solution, but the possibility of her Code still being stronger was too much of a risk: better stick with what she knew would work rather than risk a shortcut leading to an even worse situation.

Ceobe moved to hug Vulcan too, then stopped midway as her ears and tail stood. She took a few heavy sniffs of the air and beamed. “Honey Biscuits!!”

“Fresh out of the oven.” Vulcan barely finished those words before Ceobe dashed through a back door, likely the one leading to a kitchen. Leaving C.C. and the bull-horned girl alone, the latter turning to look at the Immortal. Rather than happy, now Vulcan’s expression showed neutral curiosity. “So. You’re the green-haired witch who’s turning poor Folinic’s hair gray?”

Oh, so now she was a witch even for the people of Rhodes Island? Well, considering they could use pseudo-magic with Originium maybe the term had a more literal meaning. Not that it changed much for C.C., like she told the brat it just got too old for her to care anymore. You don’t grow a callus only on your skin. “Unless you can think of anyone else who fits that description.” She rolled her eyes, the news she was a nuisance to the car-eared girl lifting her spirits by a minute amount: people who don’t understand the meaning of ‘no’, be it men or women, needed a lesson.

“One or two... but you are the first of that description to actually be immortal.” Vulcan admitted, still hammering away at the piece on metal on the anvil. Movements precise and confident like someone who did the same task thousands of times before.

C.C. clicked her tongue in aggravation. “Should have known that would get around.” She didn’t even show her regeneration, no she just mentioned it and they took her at face value. Yes Lelouch could testimony about her power, but it wasn’t the kind of things one just accepted without irrefutable proof.

Unless, it was not the first time Rhodes Island met someone incapable of dying. Terra sounded like an enough crazy place. C.C. pitied her fellow Immortals.

“Mmh. Most folks will leave you alone about it. Frankly, we’ve had weirder. Have weirder, actually. Crazy penguin...” Vulcan muttered the last part under her breath, but C.C. still heard it. Did she mean a Terran with penguin traits, like the few people C.C. saw with feathers growing among their hair, or a literal penguin? She needed to find out. “But, anyways... I actually have a few questions for you about that, if you don’t mind.”

Normally the green-haired Immortal did mind, and a lot. Her Code had been nothing but a curse since the very beginning, forcefully transferred into her body by someone she once considered her mentor and best friend. Ironically enough, after so many years C.C. could empathize with and understand the Nun’s motivations, though forgiveness was another matter entirely. Talking about it, running the risk of revealing the real reason she searched for a Contractor was not something C.C. ever did.

Not without carefully considering every word in her mind before speaking it. After so many years C.C. had become rather adept at obfuscating the inconvenient truth with white lies and misdirection, through straight-up refusing to talk was often faster and easier. And, well, after providing her with so many new things C.C. supposed she owed Rhodes Island just a little. “Go right ahead. Suppose it could be novel.”

“Your immortality... physical, right? Can’t die?”

“Yes.” That was something easy to admit.

“I imagine you’ve died in quite a few ways.” Vulcan casually asked, still hammering away. C.C. couldn’t tell what the horned girl was working on, but it must be something important if it required multitasking. Or maybe she was always like that.

“Mmh...” The green-haired girl hummed in a way that meant everything and nothing. Honestly, at this point the answer was a fucking lot: at first it was because her younger self was a (traumatized) idiot, then it was the turn of people who deluded themselves into thinking they could understand how C.C.’ Code worked and replicate it for themselves if they cut her open enough times. Some just wanted her dead for a variety of reasons, and while she could have collaborated they unfortunately weren’t interested in anything C.C. said.

“Ever made the acquaintance of an iron maiden?”

Well now, that was quite the specific question. “...Once. Honestly, after the first few hours it was almost peaceful.” The pain was constant, yes, but it didn’t change and so C.C. found herself slowly getting used to it until the torture was just a background buzz. The frightened faces of those Inquisitors when they opened the iron maiden and C.C. calmly greeted them had been hilarious.

Then one of them murdered the others before kneeling at her feet, offering his soul and a willingness to perform any type of atrocity in exchange for immortality. That, may have been the first time C.C. willingly played the part of a Witch. But in her defense, using that guy to escape the country and then letting him kill himself in an embarrassing way was a fair price for all the torture.

“I see, I see...” The weaponsmith nodded a few times, as if finding C.C.’ revelations very interesting. “Then, tell me...”

Vulcan finally stopped hammering on the piece of metal she’s been working on the whole time, grabbing a pair of tongs and using them to hold it up. Then she turned around and stared right at C.C. with dead eyes, making sure the Immortal had a perfect view of the half metal mask held between the tongs.

“Ever had one forged around you, perfectly tailored to your form, the metal still red hot?”

C.C. went very still, keeping her body language absolutely blank. Searching within Vulcan’s eyes the green-haired girl saw not the tells of a joke, albeit a cruel one, but someone who was deadly serious and wanted others to know it. The only reason that C.C.’s flight-or-fight reaction didn’t trigger was due to the lack of aggression within Vulcan’s words: as strange as it sounded, the bull-horned girl wasn’t making a threat.

She was making a statement. “That... would be a new one for me.” C.C. admitted, carefully and neutrally. A pyre was one thing, but having molted metal wrapped around herself by someone who knew she could regenerate, and so would take into account her nerve endings constantly regrowing? Hard pass.

“Thought it would be. Now, let me be clear.” Vulcan went back to hammering as she talked. Paying more attention to it, but still making sure to keep the Forte’s limbs within her field of vision, C.C. saw the mask being rendered back into a misshapen lump of metal. “That girl with you, Ceobe. She’s nice. Kind, generous. I’d say she’s a bit dim, but really, I’d call it more innocent. She also doesn’t have long to live, all told.”

C.C. recalled the crystals on Ceobe’s legs. “Her Oripathy is bad, then?” She didn’t know how bad of a sign it was, Vulcan had them on her face and both Terrans looked healthy otherwise, but from what the green-haired girl gathered Rhodes Island was very good at treating Oripathy’s symptoms.

“Heavily advanced. She has a few years left, at best, and then things will progress too much for her to safely leave her room. Much less her bed.” Vulcan admitted with a frown, tone tinged with heavy regret. “If I had anything to say about it, I wouldn’t have her anywhere near the fighting, but she chooses to fight so that’s that. But still... I care for that girl. And if there’s any way I can help to make her life easier, I will.”

How ironic, C.C. mused within her mind. An Immortal that wanted to die to end the apathy of living, and a girl with only a few years left that nonetheless lived each day following her whims. The world truly had a dark sense of humor, as if it hasn’t been clear before.

"So, here’s the deal: for the time being you have Ceobe’s friendship, which is all well and good.” Vulcan continued. The metal mask was now quickly being hammered into what appeared to be a piece of sleek body armor. “You won’t find a more loyal friend, except maybe where food is involved. You take care of her, keep her safe within reasonable expectations, and we’re good. No problems. ...Don’t take care of her. Betray her trust...”

C.C. tilted her head, tone even. “And I get a full body, red-hot wrap yes?”

“No, that was just me gauging your limits. Do anything to hurt Ceobe...” Vulcan didn’t break eye-contact with the Immortal as she lifted the half-forged armor from her anvil with her tongs. “and I’ll actually get creative.”

She plunged the glowing metal into a nearby bucket of water, steam bursting from it with a sharp hiss.

Well now, the Forte sounded absolutely and completely serious. C.C. had her own ways to defend herself even against bullshit pseudo-magic, and she sincerely doubted the rest of Rhodes Island would let Vulcan go too far... but it would be a hassle. Pointless. “Is that your way of saying I need permission before dating your daughter?” C.C. asked with a subdued, but still noticeable, amused tone. Lips quirking into a smirk at how protective Vulcan was towards Ceobe. She had not been even planning anything bad, apart from maybe using the Perro as a distraction against minor annoyances (which already happened) and making her do some commissions... which she would reward with food. Fairly so. C.C. wasn’t a slave driver.

Vulcan blinked once in owlish incomprehension. It was followed by her serious demeanor finally breaking as the Forte’s cheek turned slightly pink. “I’m not Ceobe’s mother, just her friend.”

“Could have fooled me.” The green-haired girl’s smirk widened before she returned to a serious expression. “I’ll not abuse Ceobe’s trust, nor treat her unfairly. I don’t plan to stay around here for long, but until that day I’ll stick to my word.”

C.C. lied a lot. Broke many promises in the past. But she always tried to be truthful and stick to her word unless she had no other choice. After all, she derived no pleasure from lying.

“I’ll hold you on that.”

Not a moment too soon, Ceobe returned with her mouth stuffed full of honey biscuits and carrying in her hand a plate positively overflowing with the tasty treats. The smell was very good, not as good as freshly baked pizza but nothing could beat the king of food. The Perro chewed slowly, savoring the flavor, before swallowing it in one go. “Vulcan’s honey biscuits are the best! Try it Cicci!”

The green-haired Immortal’s eyebrow twitched a little, both at the nickname and the way Vulcan grinned in amusement, but eventually took the handful of biscuits Ceobe was holding out to her. Wasting perfectly good food was a big no-no for her. “Sure. Save some for Vulcan too Kay, I’m sure she’s famished after sleeping for so long.”

“You’re right!” Gasping in shock Ceobe whirled around and thrust more of the honey biscuits into the Forte’s face, who still looked only vaguely amused. “Eat up Vulcan! Starving is bad, you can’t do it! The Doctor said so, to rest and recover for now. Want to hear something funny? We went to sleep in one place, but now we’re somewhere else! And it’s full of bad guys, they have a lot of guns but no other weapons. Which is dumb, what if you need a sword or a hammer but you only have guns? Oh, and they also have those big metal armors that people can move around even if it’s too big for them. They have a complicated name, Ifrit calls them ‘tin cans’ so I’m doing it too because it’s easier to say. Also, also get this—”

C.C. left Ceobe talk off Vulcan’s ear, searching for a clean enough spot to sit down. Once done she picked up one biscuit and took a bite, chewing slowly. It tasted just as good as it smelled, and while it was no pizza... she had to admit, this was still the most comfortable she’s been in a long time.

An unexpected blessing for sure, but one she planned to enjoy fully from start to finish. C.C. had not many of them during her life, and it made each one all the more precious.

====​

Maria wasn’t used to people constantly treating her with absurd levels of deference. Yes, the Nearls were descendants of Kazimierz’s former aristocracy and a Knight family, but even when she started gaining popularity during the Major the people of Kawalerielki treated her more like a movie star than, say, a Leithanian noble. They cheered, waved, shouted encouragements, asked for autographs and a handshake.

But here, in the middle of the city she has been told was called Tokyo? Bystanders tossed the Kuranta a single glance and then immediately gave her a wide berth, trying very hard to avoid her gaze and bowing profusely when she happened to look at them, going all ‘forgive me, My Lady, for the inconvenience’ and ‘a good day to you too, Your Ladyship’. Maria wasn’t even wearing armor, she left it back at Rhodes Island and wore one of the easy-to-move-around outfits she used when going out shopping. Not only that, the moment she tried to say something they doubled down even harder and quickly made themselves scarce.

Scratch that, it was not reverence: they were afraid. She had an inkling about the possible reason, and despite having been warned Maria had troubles accepting it was truly that bad.

...Well, either that or they were afraid for a much simpler reason. Glancing behind her Maria winced at the sight of Zofia’s thunderous expression, hands literally strangling the newspaper she bought a few minutes ago. What, or maybe who, managed to royally piss off her normally cool-headed Aunt?

“Monsters... blaggards, scum! They’re scoundrels, fiends one and all, unworthy of the title ‘knight’—!” Zofia hissed venomously, eyes full of what Maria hoped was not homicidal fury! Okay, so maybe her Aunt was not always cool-headed, but even the few times Maria saw Zofia really losing her calm had not been this bad!

“Aunt Zofia-eep!” Maria yelped when the older Kuranta’s vengeful gaze zeroed in on her the moment she spoke.

She relaxed almost immediately, expression softening considerably as she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry Maria, I shouldn’t have done that. Forgive me.”

“It’s alright, really. No need to apologize Zofia.” She waved a hand, trying to dispel the awkward atmosphere. Maybe not using ‘Aunt’ when addressing her would make Zofia relax more, the older Kuranta never liked that appellative even if Maria ignored why. It had been Margaret who told Maria Zofia was their Aunt, and nobody until now bothered to correct her. Even Uncle Mlynar said ‘Mh? Yes, Aunt is accurate enough I suppose’ when she asked.

Then Uncle made a really funny face when Maria next asked if it meant him and Zofia were married, since that was usually the relationship between Uncles and Aunts, and walked away without answering her. Zofia laughed herself sick when she repeated the question, and Margaret replied with a stoic ‘no, they aren’t’.

Maybe she should stop going down memory’s lane, lest she spent all day there. “What’s wrong? You were making a face...” Maria glanced at the newspaper still clenched within Zofia’s hands.

The older Kuranta followed her gaze, sneering viciously at the paper. “I just realized that, as bad as Kazimierz became those days, it’s still infinitely more faithful to the ideals of knighthood than Britannia.”

Zofia crumpled the journal into a ball and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. “I’ll spare you the torture. That waste of paper described, in vivid detail, the latest campaign of one ‘Knight’ of Ten, Luciano Bradley.” Her fists clenched, eyes sweeping around to dissuade anyone from approaching them. As if she already didn’t enough of a good job. “The writer didn’t even bother pretending otherwise, they gleefully described how that bastard had all enemy soldiers killed, even those who surrendered, before doing the same to a large portion of the civilian population. Because they helped the soldiers, and that apparently is enough to be considered a soldier too.”

“That—!” Maria gasped in shock, one hand covering her mouth. It was not as if she didn’t understand that things during war could get very ugly, the history books of Kazimierz covered times when circumstances forced the Adeptus Sprawiedliwi to skirt or outright break the bounds of knighthood: each instance had been condemned and heavily criticized... though it didn’t stop similar events from happening again later on, Maria reflected. Still, even that was a far cry from celebrating it. “And they let him get away with it?”

“Worse, he was given an award for preventing any future ‘stability problems’ in the newly conquered area. That is, killing anyone who could fight and leaving the rest too terrified for their lives to dare disobey.“ Zofia’s voice was scathing, dripping with venomous anger. “That they dare address such vulgar butchers as ‘knights’ is nothing less than a travesty.”

A nearby door slammed open, Margaret marching out of a store the signboard labelled as selling knight-themed memorabilia. That had been what first attracted the interest of Maria’s older sister, but now the Radiant Knight looked undeniably queasy. “I think I’m going to be sick.” She stated simply once within earshot before continuing ahead, forcing the two other Kuranta to follow after her.

“I know I’m going to regret asking...” Zofia sighed in resignation. “What happened back there?”

“They sell memorabilia, yes. Souvenirs and moments of Britannia’s ‘triumphs’.” Margaret’s tone was thunderous, giving the impression of a storm about to go off above an unsuspecting village. “Even a few genuine trophies. Like dog tags.”

“That... doesn’t sound so bad?”

Margaret turned to stare at her sister, an unholy light blazing in her eye. “Enemy dog tags.”

That caused the other two Nearls’ breaths to hitch. Dog tags... Kazimierz didn’t make use of them, but even so Maria knew their significance, knew that to some they were as valuable as a knight’s shield and crest. Wait, but that meant—!

“Selling the identification tags of deceased enemy soldiers?! That’s beyond the pale!” Zofia snarled, giving voice to Maria’s thoughts. “Those are symbols of the soldiers’ honor and bravery, the final mercy afforded to their families! They should be honored, treasured! Not sold like cheap souvenirs!”

Margaret nodded grimly, her mouth set in a dour line. “I had to leave when the bastard started trying to sell me on starting a collection. It was that, or bury my fist through his skull.”

“...Don’t you mean ‘in’—?”

“You heard me.”

Zofia groaned. They had left behind the main streets and were now walking down a set of stairs leading to what appeared to be an underground shopping center. People were giving the three Kuranta an even wider berth, probably for the best given their current mood. “They’re tainting the meaning of what it means to be a knight! I don’t know what to believe in!”

“Oh no. How horrible for you. I have no idea what that feels like.” A voice answered in an obnoxious monotone that seemed tailor-made to mercilessly mock the intended target. As if the speaker achieved said ability not by practicing in front of a mirror, but by constantly using the same tone during their everyday life.

Zofia stopped, looked at where the voice came from and groaned. “Oh no, not you.”

“Yay, me.” Centaurea replied with the same tone, this time adding a fake impression of cheerfulness. The Sniper had also replaced her usual clothes for a more casual attire, but unlike the Nearls she went the extra mile in looking extra stylish. A few bags of recently purchased clothes hanging from her arms completed the picture of a professional model having some private quality time. “And a good day to you too, ladies Nearl. I would ask if you’re having fun, but somehow I doubt the answer would be positive.”

“What do you want, Armorless Union?” Margaret asked, no demanded. Arms crossed over her chest while staring daggers at the silver-haired beauty. It was a term she used in public only because normal people were once again staring far away from them, preventing any eavesdropping. Of course, she also checked beforehand if there were devices capable of registering distant sounds directed their way, like the handheld multi-function phones almost all people in this new world used.

“Ex-Armorless Union, please.” Centaurea reminded her. “I left that life behind, I’m just a Rhodes Island Operator now, just like you. Well, I suppose there’s something else we have in common now.”

“What is it?” Maria wondered. It couldn’t be the fact all four of them were Kuranta or born in Kazimierz, since she implied it was something recent.

The silver-haired beauty smirked. “We’re fellow knight-slayers now~!”

Ah... Considering that they were among those fighting at Shinjuku, and that they personally took down more than one Knightmare Frame, Maria had to admit the Sniper’s statement was technically accurate. Zofia and Margaret, however, bristled at the accusation.

“THAT DOESN’T COUNT!“ Zofia snarled. “They’re scoundrels, fiends unworthy of the title of knight—!”

“Geez, where have I heard that definition before~” Centaurea sing-songed in the same obnoxious monotone she used before.

“GRGH!” Maria and Margaret may have been reunited only recently after a long period of separation, but they still moved in unison like only siblings can do as they barely held back Zofia from throwing herself at Centaurea. Judging from the movements of her Aunt’s hands, she was trying to throttle the Sniper.

Truthfully, a dark part of Maria wanted to let her. Being called a knight-slayer stung, and the fact Britannian knights were unworthy of the title helped only a little. The blonde Kuranta may have been disillusioned about modern Kazimierz’s view of knights, but her sister showed her there was still something worth fighting for. That the word ‘knight’ still had value in this day and age.

“If you came here only to insult us, then leave.” Margaret was far more vocal about her thoughts, glaring at Centaurea in the same way that sent Reunion militia routing and paralyzed in their seats the Major’s fans. “We may be allies now, true, but even that has limits. If you don’t show us basic respect, then we aren’t obliged to do the opposite.”

Which basically meant ‘keep going and no one will spare you a beating’. Her older sister was typically blunt and direct, but even she could occasionally imply things.

The silver-haired Sniper winced, smugness quickly giving way to a contrite expression. “Sorry, that was a low blow. I confess the irony was amusing at first... But no. I’ve been where you are, I know it ain’t funny.”

“Understatement of the century.” Zofia spat. She stopped struggling and seemed to have calmed down a little, so Maria tentatively let go of her arms when she saw Margaret do the same. Her Aunt quickly fixed her clothes and faced Centaurea again. “The Armorless were rat bastards and slaves to corporate greed, we fought to protect innocents. So don’t talk like we’re in the same boat.”

“Oh, but we are.” The silver-haired Kuranta smiled again, taking a few steps forward. “Rat bastards and slaves to corporate greed? Yes, you’re right. But the stated mission, their original creed is still valid: bring low those who insult knighthood. Whiiiich is why I propose we combine forces.”

“But, we’re already allies?” Maria frowned in confusion. Bring low those who insult knighthood? She admitted the idea had a certain appeal. But how was that any different than what they were already doing?

“Correct, but we’re Rhodes’ allies. Us four, we don’t have a common goal.” Centaurea shook her head. She quickly looked around, confirming that people were still doing their best to ignore them, before continuing. “After Shinjuku I’m sure Rhodes Island will come into conflict with Britannia again, though I doubt the Doctor and the others will decide to focus exclusively on fighting those corrupt knights. More likely, it will be one of many tasks to do.”

She spread her arms wide invitingly. “So why not volunteer for said task? Who better to fight corrupt knights than someone who did it for a living, and the esteemed Radiant Knight and her family? Working together? Why, with your endorsement, perhaps we could even bring about Pinus Sylvestris and Gravel to our cause, hmmm?”

“...If your intention was to offer an olive branch, you started off on the wrong foot.” Margaret chastised Centaurea, but she seemed to seriously consider the idea. At least, she was not as angry as before. “But... I will admit, your idea has... merit. Provided we can trust you to not betray us.”

“Sheesh, blunt as always Lady Nearl.” Centaurea smirked, waving her hand flippantly. “Yes, I don’t have the best records in that regard. But even if you doubt my current commitment to Rhodes, you must admit that the possibility of me switching over to Britannia is extremely unlikely, at best. Going by what you saw, do you believe they would treat me fairly?”

‘No.’ Maria immediately thought, a sentiment she knew was echoed by her family. And which only led more credence to the Sniper’s words.

“Mmph... I will admit, the Doctor trusts you. I don’t know why, but from what Margaret told me he has never been wrong in that regard.” Zofia sighed. “Maria, what do you think?”

“Mmh...” She thought about it. Again, the idea of personally teaching those so-called Britannian ‘knights’ a lesson appealed to her. Aaand, it would give her first pick on the enemy Knightmares they captured! All of Earth’s technology so far has been new and exciting, and the fact they didn’t use even an ounce of Originium to work was honestly astounding!

Earlier, when they began their tour, Maria had to physically stop herself from walking up to a couple and ask if she could look at their car’s engine. She’d had to remind herself it would be improper and likely to blow their cover, no matter how tempting it was! Maybe if she found a mechanics’ shop somewhere or a library, she could get more research mat—?

“Maria!”

“Wha? Oh, right, right!” Maria snapped out of her musings with a sheepish blush, and coughed in an effort to cover up her embarrassment before refocusing. “Um... I-I know I don’t have the most experience out of us all, but I trust both yours and Margaret’s opinion. At this point Miss Centaurea has been a reliable ally, hasn’t she? So... isn’t it better to let bygones be bygones, and focus on the real enemy?”

Zofia and Margaret momentarily exchanged wary glances... before sighing and nodding in agreement.

“Great! Glad to hear you’re all on board” Centaurea winked, smiling wide as she flashed them a thumb-up. “Here’s to the birth of the ‘New Armorless Union’!”

Aaand, that immediately sent Zofia and Margaret full-on frowning, and Maria breaking out in a sweat at the thought of having to stop them from trying to draw-and-quarter their new quote-unquote ‘ally’.

“We are not calling ourselves the ‘New Armorless Union’.” Margaret declared grimly.

“We intend to lay low the corrupt knights of this rotten empire, yes?” The Sniper asked back, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Yes?”

Centaurea’s smile turned impish. “Who almost exclusively ride around in those powered armors, the Knightmare Frames, yes?”

“Yes...” Margaret’s voice showed she already regretted where this was going.

“And none of us will be using our own powered armors when we lay waste to them, yes?”

“...Yes, damn it all.” Zofia finally admitted, each word like a tooth forcefully ripped out of her mouth. Maria wanted to point out she wasn’t averse to using a Knightmare on her own, especially if she could get enough parts to build a customized one, but this really didn’t sound like the best time.

The silver-haired Kuranta clapped her hands. “Then the New Armorless Union it is!”

Zofia’s eye twitched viciously as her hand fell to her side. “C-Can I please stab her? Just once?”

“Please don’t, Auntie...” Maria begged with a weak smile. She really hoped she would not end up playing peacekeeper between the different members of this new group, because as of now it promised to be an ever more daunting task than winning the Major without sponsors.

====​

“Are you sure you’re fine? If it’s too tiring just say so.”

“For the last time, Amiya.” Lelouch sighed. “Yes, I’m fine now. Yes, I can walk. I was in a wheelchair only because Kal'tsit forced me, I never truly needed it.”

It had been a few hours since he went to sleep, aided by sheer exhaustion and a few sleeping pills courtesy of Rhodes Island. Lelouch was not lying about having fully recovered, not strictly, but such details have been trivialized by the reason the Cautus woke him up.

Kallen’s surgery was over, and despite the still scarce details it had been deemed a success. It was only natural for the raven-haired boy to go to the redhead’s side as soon as possible, to witness firsthand if his new allies delivered once more.

Just before reaching their destination another member of Rhodes’ medical staff arrived from the opposite direction. A young woman with brown hair held back by a headband, she was walking with her head lowered as she scrolled through a stack of papers. She quickly looked up before going back to the documents. “Good morning Amiya, Doctor.”

At first the Cautus was taken aback, then she smiled and covered her mouth with one hand to hold back the giggles. Lelouch merely raised an eyebrow, wondering how it was possible for someone to mistake him for Rhodes’ Doctor, especially one of said man’s co-workers. His current clothes were the only thing they had in common. “I appreciate the compliment, but I must inform you I have yet to finish high school.”

“Eh?” The Medic’s head snapped up, confusion plastered all over her face. She stared at Lelouch in silence for a few seconds, then her cheeks grew red and the dog-like ears peeking between her hair flattered against her scalp. “O-Oh! I’m, I’m so sorry Mister Lamperouge! I don’t, I mean, I was...”

“You were distracted.” Lelouch suggested, with the Medic quickly nodding in response. “It happens, though I advise you to avoid walking while reading unless it’s absolutely necessary. Now, did you happen to come from Miss Kozuki’s operation room? How is she?”

“Yes I do! She has yet to wake up, but the operation went well and the few complications that cropped up were quickly dealt with by Doctor Kal’tsit and the others.” The brown-haired girl explained in a professional manner, as if falling back on old habits. “Doctor Kal’tsit and Miss Einstein remained to watch over her, the others went to rest.”

“I understand, thank you.” Lelouch nodded before walking past her. Amiya stopped for a moment to offer her own greetings and encouragements before quickly catching up with Lelouch. “So they found a way to anesthetize Kallen.”

“That’s good news.” The Cautus agreed, relieved that the redhead didn’t need to be awake while the doctors operated on her. Even if it was to save her life, it would have been a traumatic experience.

When the two finally reached the operation room they only needed to go through a quick sterilizing procedure before being allowed inside. Kal'tsit was beside the bed, checking a few monitors, while Nina was sitting on a nearby desk and furiously typing on a keyboard with a very delighted smile.

“Lelouch. Amiya.” The feline-eared doctor greeted the two in a curt manner before focusing on the exiled prince. “Can you think properly now?”

“I’m in full control of my mental faculties, yes.” Lelouch replied curtly before moving his eyes to the bed’s occupant. “I take it the situation has been brought under control?”

Kallen was sleeping soundly, the gentle wheeze of her breathing and the regular beeping of the heart monitor giving the scene a peaceful feeling. She was resting on her stomach and with her arms spread perpendicularly to the rest of her body. The reason for this was evident: thin tubes of various sizes ran down the lengths of her limbs and up her spine, grafted into the epidermis of the redhead’s body. The tubes along her limbs all seemed to flow out from the singular tube implanted along her spine, which was significantly more sizeable, and appeared to be capped by a mechanical port at the base of Kallen’s neck.

“Correct. The coolant can now reduce the temperature of Miss Kozuki’s body directly, in a much more efficient manner.” Kal'tsit explained. “We’re utilizing a compound that can be safely ingested by her body, all while maintaining an appropriately frigid temperature. With the apparatus suffusing it throughout Miss Kozuki’s body, her Arts have been brought under control and we were able to stabilize her Oripathy. She still needs to recover, and we’ll have to see about refining the system... but she is no longer in any immediate danger.”

“We were told you managed to put her to sleep,” Amiya said. The skin around the injection-points was red, but luckily it didn’t seem like the operation would leave scars. Through there was a bruise forming around her mouth, she wondered why considering the tubes didn’t reach there. “Did you use Arts? I know Miss Iris and a few other Operators can do that.”

Kal'tsit frowned in the way that implied she was very displeased with something. “Not... exactly.”

“You see...” Nina stopped whatever she was doing and poked her fingers together with a sheepish chuckle. “One of the attending doctors was someone called Gavial, and she, uh... how should I put this?”

“Employed some techniques from her homeland?” The Feline doctor suggested in a flat tone.

“Aheh... Yes, that.”

“Ah, so that’s the reason behind the sizeable goose-egg Kallen is starting to develop.” Lelouch commented.

Nina and Kal’tsit both hung their heads, their thoroughly weary sighs serving as confirmation enough.

Lelouch could only muster up a very unimpressed stare at the explanation, while Amiya was silently fuming and planning to have a very long chat with Gavial about how she very much needed to refresh herself on the ins and outs of Rhodes Island’s Medical Code of Conduct. Again.

“I believe Kallen will like to return the favor once awake.” The raven-haired boy quipped.

“That’s what I said!” Nina interjected, throwing her hands up in the air without looking away from the computer’s screen. “Then Miss Gavial replied that if Miss Kozuki wants to have a good scrap to warm up her muscles she’s welcome anytime. Which I don’t really recommend, at least not until we can run some tests to make sure the system can handle physically intense activity. Also, you know, making sure it can’t get easily damaged. Don’t think we have to worry about hiding it, should be able to easily pass it off as some cutting edge medical advancement or something...”

While Nina returned to her work to further ponder any future upkeep, she missed the way Lelouch’s demeanor slightly tightened. He looked at Amiya, who’d adopted a similar expression but reluctantly nodded, before silently gesturing for Kal'tsit to come closer.

“...Are you both sure about this?” The cat-eared doctor asked after Lelouch finished whispering to her ear. Seeing both youths silently nod, she thought about it for a few seconds before offering her own curt nod. “Probably for the best. Go ahead.”

“Well in that case... Nina, I have a request for you.” Lelouch began, walking up to the green-haired girl. When she turned around and they locked gazes, he once again activated his Geass, only a thin amount of apprehension coloring his resolve. He would be sure to give only the right orders, last time was due to extraordinary circumstances. “Once you return home, please forget everything that happened here.”

Nina blinked at him once, twice... before donning a sheepish grin and scratching the back of her head. “Eeh, I’ll try.”

The ex-prince barely managed to withhold his shock when Nina replied in a far too flippant and non-zombie-like manner, turning back to the computer without missing a beat. “I mean, I get it, you all are dealing with dangerous stuff and don’t want to involve me, and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about all this revolutionary stuff to begin with. That’s fine. But!”

Nina whirled around again and pointed a finger at Lelouch. “I’m still using the new data I got from Kallen! Anonymously of course! With it, my research will speed up by weeks. No, months! That’s non-negotiable!”

The raven-haired boy blinked, doing his best to mask his bewilderment at this unforeseen wrinkle in his supposedly ‘absolute’ powers. He looked over his shoulders at Amiya, who was likewise confused and Kal'tsit, who merely hummed in thought.

“It appears we found its first limit.” The Feline declared blandly.

Lelouch clicked his tongue in irritation, having immediately realized what she meant. It wasn’t like he’d expected his Geass to be completely devoid of rules or limitations, but for him to discover them now of all times?

“...Am I missing something?” Nina asked with a curious tone.

Before anyone could come up with an explanation, or more likely an excuse, both Kal'tsit and Amiya’s phones began to beep insistently. “A Priority One emergency from PRTS?” The Cautus read the text. “Watch... the news channel?”

Having evidently received the same message Kal'tsit tapped on her tablet and turned on a nearby monitor.

“His Highness, Prince Clovis, has passed away!” A powerful, imposing voice boomed through the speakers. The screen showed a group of Britannian Knights in uniform standing on attention, while a teal-haired man wearing a fancy cape stood behind a podium to face a sea of reporters. The text identified him as Margrave Jeremiah Gottwald, holding a press conference from the state broadcast room. “While fighting for peace and justice against the Elevens, he died a martyr! We all must push down our sorrow and carry on his will!”

“They’re already revealing it? And here I thought they would suppress the news for at least a few more days.” Lelouch nonchalantly commented, causing Nina to look at both the screen and him with wide eyes. “Which means...”

“We’re just received new information.” The female announcer continued after Gottwald’s speech came to an end. “The man suspected of the murder has been captured. According to the report, the man arrested is an Honorary Britannian.”

Just as Lelouch suspected, lacking a culprit they resorted to a scapegoat. What he didn’t expect was the face shown on the screen as his owner, arms restrained by a straight jacket similar to C.C.’s, was forcefully carried away by two Britannian soldiers. “It can’t be—! Suzaku?!”

“Private Suzaku Kururugi, a former Eleven.” The announcer unknowingly confirmed.

“Someone you know?” The feline doctor inquired.

Lelouch swallowed heavily, trying—and for the most part failing—to school his reaction as a flurry of emotions swept over him. “An old friend... that I thought dead... twice over no less, and recently at that.”

“We must stop them!” Amiya hotly declared, waving a hand towards the screen. “We can’t just let an innocent man get executed for a crime we all know he didn’t commit!”

“...I know I’m going to regret asking this and the answer is obvious...“ Nina pinched the bridge of her nose, her sense of patriotism and self-preservation fighting an internal battle against her natural curiosity and losing. “But how, exactly, do you know it wasn't him?"

And then, the last person she expected to answer did so. "Because. I am the one who pulled the trigger.” Lelouch declared, everything but cold logic and iron-like resolve swept aside as his brilliant mind went into overdrive.

Suzaku saved his life once. It was time to return the favor.