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Chapter 2: The Sleeping Dog Wakes
🕑 Added 2024-11-23 17:25:35 +0000 UTCChapter 2: The Sleeping Dog Wakes
Lelouch understood path he had chosen to walk. Because of that, he knew that he would find himself in many situations life was cheap, where one wrong move or pure bad luck could result in him joining the house of Hades.
'But I swear, if I die because I decided to do a good deed, I will haunt whoever is driving this stupid truck.' Lelouch thought, having had no luck finding a ladder in the interior, before he heard the military behind him.
“Give up now, or we’ll shoot to kill!" Lelouch doubted that statement as the blast of an autocannon that came before that warning must have been threatening for the driver to swerve so hard that Lelouch had to hold onto the strange capsule.
"Focus, what are my options here? These are clearly criminals, so the odds that they'll help me are slim, but they're better than trying to jump out and breaking my neck or being shot to pieces." Lelouch thought aloud, trying to plot a plot to escape, unseen by the military, as the less attention he got from them, the better. Of course, he could try and force them to act as he reached for his belt but ceased; such a method would be short-term at best, and he didn't know how many were up there or what they carried.
His thoughts were interrupted when the door to the driver's cabin opened. Lelouch quickly hid in the shadows of the transport behind the capsule and watched. Looking out, he saw that it was a woman of slightly below-average height. Without a proper light, he couldn't make out her face, but he could make out her bright red hair, spiked up in defiance of gravity.
As she walked, she stripped off the uniform she had on, mercifully revealing that she had other clothes beneath it. “Can you enter the subway through the Azubo route?” The woman spoke in clear Japanese, revealing to be Japanese as no proper Britannian would stoop to using the tongue of a 'lesser' people.
"Kallen, let's use it here. Why not?" The driver called out to her, the woman pausing as she walked up onto some platform, when she turned to face the face, a sliver of light allowed to make out her bright blue eyes.
"Because then it would be a bloodbath!" Her response not only worried him but also made him all the more curious.
Based on their conversation, his mind raced with possibilities of what the thing could be, with him settling on it being some sort of new bomb that had either been assigned to Area 11 or, more likely, developed here and was stolen by them before it could be shipped out to aid in Britannia's wars against the Middle Eastern Federation, and the E.U.
“Yeah…you’re right.” The driver backed down, though Lelouch couldn't help but wonder about the girl, those eyes, that shade of red hair; he had seen them before, but where? It had to be recent, but he travelled around the settlement so much he could have seen her at one of the clubs or bars he frequented for gambling; maybe she had been at the bank earlier when he withdrew his cash?
Whoever she was had to take the back seat as she climbed into the vehicle carried along with the capsule, and the back of the truck opened a little. Not enough for her to get through, but enough for her to fire something he hadn't seen in combat use for years, a slash harken. With the door opening fully, Lelouch and the pursuing Britannian aircraft saw that the terrorists hadn't come unprepared, as the woman now piloted a red Glasgow frame, the very same type of machine used in the invasion.
Jumping out of the truck, the Glasgow deployed its landspinners, and with the grace of a skilled skater, keeping pace with the truck and shifting the attention of the aircraft from the truck they had been ordered to recapture, to the war machine that could fight back and had already taken down one of them with its opening shot.
The back of the truck closed up, returning Lelouch into the shadows as he uttered a quiet curse. "Looks like I won't be getting home till late." Reaching for his side once more, tapping the well-concealed pistol he always kept on his person. He had details about the situation, at least. These weren't amateurs, not if they got their hands on a fully functional Glasgow. There were only two, and one just left, meaning it was just the driver now. That should be easy enough to handle. I just had to wait for them to ditch the military and get the man to drop him off so he would be clear.
Outside, that plan was about to encounter the first of many issues as the Kallen moved the Glasgow with exceptional skill, evading the gunfire from the gunships, and despite not having a weapon of her own, made great use of her slash harkens to take them down. "You fellas know full well what this bad-ass mother can do, so lay off!" She shifted the controls and evaded their continued but pitiful attempts to tag her; putting a little distance between her and her precious cargo, she fired another slash harken, downing her 4th gunship and leaving just 2 remaining.
A new aircraft appears through the smoke of the downed gunship, but it isn't like the others; instead, it is a T4 Britannian Military Combat Vehicle, bad news for her as it was designed to carry knightmares into battle and carry one it did. "You guys hang back, you’ll just end up dead if you don’t." Kallen ground her teeth when she heard that voice, how condescending it was, something she hated about Britannia.
Whoever the pilot was must have liked to hear their voice or wanted to further taunt her as he kept going. "I can only assume you got that obsolete relic from some scrap heap.” The clamps holding the Sunderland released, allowing the unit to free fall; as it did so, Kallen fired her slash harken to try and pre-emptively end the fight, but the pilot, a teal-haired man easily countered with his own slash harken. “And over the hill, Glasgow is no match for a Sunderland!”
“Not to mention a filthy Eleven or spurns the compassion of our glorious emperor.” The unit spun as if to show off his skill as he brought up his gun, firing off its over-barrel grenade launcher. Kallen, unable to dodge, braced for impact as the 87mm high explosive hit the Glasgow's arm, destroying everything beneath the left elbow while Kallen was rattled around in her cockpit; the girl was pissed but worried as she knew that her foe was right, a Glasgow might have been a game changer. Still, it was a mere 4th gen machine, while a Sunderland was superior 5th gen.
“Kallen, we should split up!” She turned to the radio she had stuck to the side of her cockpit, her partner meanwhile held his as he continued to drive the truck. “Both of us can’t risk being killed, run for it!”
Unseen by him, the Sunderland chasing them wasn't the only one on them. Between two buildings, another used its spinners to ascend. Once it reached the top, it launched itself into the aid and flipped, landing in front of the truck, its sights on the truck.
“Crap!” The driver cursed as he swerved to evade it, but his vehicle was too slow as the military unit let loose a burst of 25mm APDS rounds into the truck. He did manage to change lanes onto another road that would take him away from the Sunderland, whose pilot, a grey-haired woman, snorted at the desperate move.
"Simply minded Eleven." Was her comment on the situation, as what hope was there to run from them?
The game of cat and mouse continued with Kallen and her foe as she tried to fight her left slash harken, but while it shifted, it didn't fire. Gasping, she looked and saw that she was getting an alert that the mechanism had jammed. The redhead realized it must have happened from that earlier damage.
"Second hand junk!" Her foe, seeing her lose focus, didn't waste time as he rushed her. His knightmare's stun tonfa deployed so he could damage the unit just enough to finish the fight and capture the terrorist, as no doubt his superiors would like to learn where the fool's other friends were hiding.
Kallen, refusing such a fate, made a desperate move of her own. Shifting her machine so that her left side was facing the approaching Sunderland, moments before it could make contact, she ejected the damaged left arm into the path of its attack. Upon impact with the attack, the limb exploded, blinding her foe and giving her the chance to escape.
Seconds after she turned to run, the Sunderland broke through the smoke, undamaged by the last-moment gamble. It's pilot a little more interested. "I admit, I really like your spirit, however…" His face twisted into a malicious smirk, as what fun was a hunt when the prey was weak and easy to catch?
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Lelouch thought about that strange woman. He knew he had had seen that woman before but didn't know where. Her name only made it a much more solid idea, as he knew he had heard it somewhere, in passing, maybe from Rivalz and the rest of the council, maybe some students, while he was in a club.
No, that wouldn’t make sense, Ashford had only Britannian students, despite having no rules against Elevens or Honoraries attending, and the places he frequented were high class; he doubted the owners and managers even allowed Elevens and Honoraries, even if they had the money.
Maybe ‘Kallen’ was just a fake name? Plenty of Japanese in the settlement used Britannian names as part of their work contracts, another means to further suppress native cultures of conquered lands but why would she use it now? Especially when the two felt comfortable enough to speak Japanese?
But he did recognize the voice of the Sunderland pilot. Having heard it before: Margrave Jeremiah Gottwald, the leader of the Area 11’s Purist fraction.
That knowledge only made his theory about the capsule being some sort of new type of bomb all the more plausible. Jeremiah was influential and high ranked soldier. He and those he commanded wouldn't have deployed unless the stolen cargo was indeed something of great value to the right people. But why did the terrorists steal it? No, the question was how?
Questions for later, as what he could assume was that if the terrorists did capture a weapon like that and could discuss using it even if not in a civilian-populated area, then he could assume they did have plans to either use it or sell it to the Chinese Federation for weapons and other supplies.
Pulling his phone out. “As I thought, I got no reception.” 'My phone plan covers the entire old Kanto block, so we have to be somewhere the new Britannian cell towers can't reach, which can only be the old subway. But there are only a few entrances into the settlement; most likely, we're heading into the ghetto. Not an ideal place for a Britannian schoolboy.' Lelouch frowned.
“The destination matches as based on the even lesser amount of light from the outside and the road surface. Those shots from earlier were powerful,” Lelouch looked at the holes in both walls of the truck, recalling the sound of it firing and the shattering of glass that came with it. “But why follow us? Was the entrance too small for it, or was it something else?"
‘In an odd way, they would be my best option to make it out alive. No, it’s unlikely they'll believe the truth of why I was ever here.' Lelouch sighed as he held onto the terrorist radio the woman left behind, as he didn't know what was worse, the fact that such violent racists like the Purists could be a source of rescue for him or that if he tried to tell them how he had tried to help out, they would think it ludicrous.
'No, they'll investigate me, just to be sure I was clean, and they could dig up something that should stay buried.' Lelouch frowned, as he wouldn't test his luck like that. His best bet was waiting for a good moment and getting out of there. It would be tricky, but he had navigated through the bombed-out ruins that were the ghettos before.
He smirked at the plan. "At least I don't need to come up with an untrue cover.” Lelouch joked to himself.
Lelouch's plans weren't a bad one, but events had been in motion long before he stepped into the picture and progressed too far for him to have stopped, and for that, there would be consequences—for the better or worse
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“Oh-oh?” Bartley has to pause when, out of nowhere, he is stopped by a familiar, if annoying, spectacled face.
“What are you doing?” He asked as infantry fighting vehicles rumbled past them.
“Looking at a man who blundered, or am I wrong?” The flippant white-haired man in a lab coat replied.
“Why you?” Bartley took a step forward.
The man hardly seemed to care. “Oh, don’t be so mad about it, it’s true, right? Those crafty little terrorists came along and stole whatever black project you and Prince Clovis were working on. But instead of catching them while they were still in the settlement, you let them escape to lead you to the rest of them so you can destroy them all in one go."
After he finished laying it out, Bartley didn't refute him, still surprised that their plans had been so easily guessed. The man took that as proof that he was correct.
“Congratulations, Cecile. It seems you read the situation perfectly.” He praised his assistant, Cecile, who wasn't dressed like her boss but wore a uniform different from the rank and file as they both belonged to an irregular unit.
“It was nothing like that, I just thought it was weird that the stolen truck was able to escape like that.” She at least had some awareness of the situation and didn't want so much attention on herself.
“Okay, what is it the special corps wants from this?” He asked as Lloyd had already proven that when he wasn't working on his precious little project, he would stroll about the Viceroy's palace looking for entertainment like a restless child.
Lloyd’s smile grew at that, and he eagerly bowed to the man who was nominally his superior. “I merely to offer our aide in the clean-up.”
“Aid?”
Lloyd nodding. "Why, of course, our services in exchange for some field data of our project."
While he didn't seem to care what they were chasing after or signing themselves into, his assistant said, "Pardon me, General Bartley, but what was stolen?"
At her question, Bartley resisted the urge to tell them not to ask. “This isn’t something to be repeated, am I understood?” Once both nodded to that, he revealed the story to them. "Chemical weapons, a new type of poison gas."
Hearing that had the predictable gasp from Cecile, who could only imagine what sort of weapon that could be, and realized why Clovis seemed so set on getting it back. “Oh no!”
"Oh, that does make it easier to explain why you didn't have the Purists shoot up the darn thing in the middle of the settlement," Lloyd added. However, it went unsaid that they didn't care if this apparent poison gas leaked in the ghettos because no Britannians would be caught in its range.
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As the truck continued to travel underground, the tunnels that it drove through didn't change, but what was above them did as the surface from the gleaming, multi-layer engineering marvel of the settlement to the shattered and decaying remains of the city Britannian had quite literally built their homes atop of.
Here, the residents were mere Elevens, considered unfit for proper conditions and resources that those in the settlement enjoyed daily. Life was harsh and brutal here, a battle for many to make enough to last another day. It was for that reason that the sight of dozens of Britannian transports in the skies led to a sense of dread in many, as parents quickly grabbed their children and went to cover.
“The terrorists are hiding in the subway system; your mission is to deploy into the Shinjuku ghetto, investigate those old subway lines, and locate the stolen weapon. We, the Royal Guard, will handle the target's recovery.” From another gunship, the captain of the Royal Guard, came his orders as dozens of soldiers deployed via rope onto the ground, all in full combat uniform, including helmet and gas mask, but a notable thing was that not a single one was armed.
“You may be blessed with the privilege of being honourary Britannians now, but you were born as dirty Elevens, so the stench of these monkeys should be familiar. If you want to earn the right to bear arms, show some results!” He ordered as the troops scattered, all entering the old subway through whatever means was the closest to them.
“Yes, my Lord!” As they began their search, the truck driver struggled to keep his eyes open. He hadn't been tagged by the knightmare earlier, but that didn't mean shrapnel from the glass hadn't hit him as he couldn't remove the shard from his shoulder, else he sped up the bleeding, but even at the reduced rate, he knew he had lost a lot.
It was because of his fogging vision and slowed reaction that he didn't see the crack in the path before it was too late, and he crashed into it. The crack was far larger and deeper than it appeared.
“An accident?” Feeling the truck shaking, Lelouch frowned but got up. Outside, one of the soldiers sent to look for it heard the crash and looked over; with their night vision goggled, they could make out the vehicle and called it in, being told that the recovery team was on route and to keep an eye on it.
The driver tried to reverse out but couldn't get enough traction before he slumped in his seat, his strength fading, but he could at least make it easier to find him as he reached for the dash and flipped two switches. The first was to open the side of the truck, and the second was a tracking beacon. “Damn…the tire’s stuck…Ohgi, please…find me.” With that done, he laid on his back and tried to conserve his strength while keeping awake.
Lelouch moved out of the shadows of the capsule and turned to leave. "I don't know why, but I'm not going to stick aro-!" Only to see someone flying towards him; Lelouch didn't have time to wonder how it was physically possible for a body to move like that; he could only react as he held up his forearm and braced it with his other hand. Good thing, too, as when the kick landed, Lelouch felt like his bone was being compressed, and he stumbled back, barely keeping on his feet.
“Are you Brit-!” His question wasn't even finished as his attacker, a soldier, went at it again, and in a tight space like this, Lelouch couldn't make a lot of moves to dodge as he had to deal with another attack, a straight push kick which managed to catch but his attacker was quick and quickly backflipped out of it, his boot crashing into his chin and making Lelouch bite his tongue. Landing in a crouch, the soldier got back up; seeing that he couldn't take him out easy, he raised his hands while his gas mask fell, connecting just by its hanging straps.
"That's enough, mindless murder." The soldier ordered him.
“Murder?” Lelouch spat out the coppery-tasting liquid from his mouth, his anger at all the nonsense of the day getting to him, as now he was being called a mindless murderer? And by a Britannian soldier, no less, this has to be a joke and an unfunny one at that.
"Don't play dumb. You're planning to use poison gas!" The soldier yelled back at him but paused when Lelouch let out a low guttural growl as he pulled his gun out and pointed it right for the soldier's head.
"Try that again, and I'll put one between those stupid eyeballs. Look at me, do I look like a terrorist? I'm a student that was caught up in this mess." He walked into the light cast from the damaged subway ceiling above. His features were clear, which made the soldier pause before he shook as if he recognized him, but Lelouch was far too angry to care as the voices raged in his head. Raged for blood and death.
"If that is a chemical weapon, then where do you think it came from? It was made by Britannia. You want to stop mindless murder, then take a look in the mirror and burn those who inform you!" Lelouch declared, uncaring of how such a statement would be seen as disloyal, un Britannian and end with him in prison or death with a bullet in his head. It wasn't like anyone else would know as he wasn't planning on it, but he was well versed in combat and death-dealing. It wasn't like anyone could tie the death of some jobber soldier back to him.
“Lelouch?” the soldier asked, disbelieving in his words but also expressing joy and something else that sounded like resignation. Lelouch's breath hitched as he kept his gun level with his opponent's but took a step back to maintain the advantage.
“How do you know that name?” This was bad, this was terrible. Dammit, was about him giving it away? How the hell did some grunt even recognize him? It had been years since he had been there. Shit, he didn't have the time to interrogate this fool, he would just kill him, ensure there was no trace of him, and get the hell out of there.
“Kinda hard to forget it,” the soldier had the gall to chuckle even as he had a gun pointed at him, but he didn't react to it and instead removed his helmet, revealing a face Lelouch hadn't seen in years, not since—"It's me, Suzaku." Since he had made his declaration that day when Britannian had burned the old Japan to the ground, the ash was still fresh in the air then.
Lelouch saw the face of his dear friend, the person he had called his best friend. He was overjoyed, surprised, but overjoyed to know that despite time and fate, he was still alive. But that joy was soon overshadowed by disbelief and a deep sense of confusion, betrayal, and rage. “You…become a Britannian soldier?”
“Yeah, what about you’re-” Lelouch’s eyes narrowed at Suzaku’s response, but they would need to talk about this later, and he would make damn sure they did.
"You ask some interesting questions. Did you not hear me earlier?" Lelouch asked, leaving his response open-ended. But he still put his gun away—safe at least from Suzaku. “Well, as if today couldn’t be any weirder.”
As if the sister of fate themselves loved to mess with him, right as it said that, the capsule, which had been jostled by the crash, let out a hiss and a blinding light as the many clamps that kept it sealed came undone.
“Shit!” Lelouch cursed; if that stuff was kept under pressure, then it wouldn't matter if they tried to run; those few seconds before it exploded outwards would mean nothing.
“Get down!” Suzaku tackled Lelouch to the ground; the dark-haired boy was about to yell at him about what he thought getting slow would accomplish, only for Suzaku to shove his gas mask onto Lelouch's face, Lelouch life wide-eyed as Suzaku gave him a smile, accepting death.
“Suzak-!” Lelouch wanted to punch him, but his eye went to the capsule that opened like a flower, to the vessel that would take his best friend's life right before his eyes and very well take his own, but instead of a cloud of deadly chemical agents being released for their bodies to absorb and be killed from the insight out in all manner of creatively horrific ways, it was just a bright yellow light, near golden and at its heart, there wasn't gas, but a girl. “ku…”
"That's not poison gas," Suzaku uttered in disbelief, Lelouch much the same else he would have shot back with a sarcastic retort. The girl, with long, flowing green hair and deep, wise golden eyes, was in a restraint jacket. She rose as if she had been in slumber. She gazed at them, and Lelouch felt she was looking deeper into him than anyone else had, then anyone could.
That moment passed, and her eyes started to dim as she returned to the world of slumber, she had been in. Seeing her about to fall over, both boys were quick to react. Suzaku, being the faster of the two, reached her before she fell onto the floor. Lelouch, not far behind, helped him lay the floor as gently as they could.
"No, she's not; come on, help me get her out of…whatever the hell that was," Lelouch replied as he moved a little of her hair out of the way, having nothing to say, nothing to think about meeting a restrained girl kept in such a fashion. Why was she in there? How could she breathe in that thing? Why was she restrained even while in such an intricate portable prison?
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Kallen had also found refuge in the old underground, with her having parked her damaged Glasgow directly beneath an old manhole so that she could extend out its radio antennae without risking the whole unit being spotted by the now many more Britannian aircraft in the area. "Sorry, Ohgi, but I left it in the coat in all the confusion."
“That's fine. We can communicate through Glasgow. So, was the intel good?” She listened to her comrade's question and drank water before she replied.
"Think so. It definitely seemed like the type of container meant for poison gas. The thing was airtight with a bunch of tubes and valves on it. We didn't touch any of them when we stole it." Kallen felt it strange that it wasn't kept in a regular gas canister, but hey, if the thing was built with redundancies for the redundancies, she sure as hell wasn’t complaining.
“Probably for the best, no point testing your luck like that. Speaking of luck, any word from Nagata?”
To that, she had no clue. She had tried to contact him, but he hadn't responded, and she couldn't pick him up on the tracker either, so the odds were that he hadn't turned it on yet. Still, she was worried for him as they both had to deal with Sunderlands, and she got away, but not without damage. Who's to say he didn't also have a similar fate. “No clue, but I’m pretty sure he made it underground.”
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Unknown to anyone, even Nagata, who remained laid out on the driver's seat, the tracker he had activated had some of its wiring damaged during the escape and pursuit and had never activated, so he waited for a rescue that might never come as no one knew where he was or that he needed help.
A bigger tragedy was that the two who were there, and who could have checked up on the terrorist who hadn't made a peep, had all their attention fixated solely on the green-haired mystery girl as they carefully moved her out of the truck and started to undo the restraints that kept her limbs bound.
"Be straight with me, Suzaku; what is going on here? Poison gas, really?" Lelouch asked him, letting the girl use his lap as a pillow in the rather unconventional situation.
"I'm as clueless as you; that was what they told us in the briefing…why would they lie about it," Suzaku asked, and hearing what Suzaku had been told, along with the other happenings of the day, made Lelouch's heart skip a beat in realization and fear.
“We're dead if we don't get moving," Lelouch told him, already moving to get up, grab the girl and make for the nearest exit.
“What, why?” Suzaku’s question would go unanswered as behind them, flood lights activated, momentarily blinding Lelouch, who wanted to smack himself for not paying attention to their surroundings.
"Stinking monkey," a rough, angry voice called out. Lelouch could make out the figure, someone he didn't recognize but most assuredly someone of high rank. And he wasn't alone: Along with the two massive floodlights, he had nine men armed with rifles aimed in their direction. "Being an honorary Britannian will not excuse this lack of discipline!"
"B-but sir, I was told this was poison gas." Suzaku hurried over to the man and tried to defend them, but Lelouch it was pointless. The situation was just getting more dire by the second.
"Are you questioning orders?" The commander ignored Suzaku's statement, but Lelouch could tell that the man wasn't looking at Suzaku but at him—not at him, but at the girl whose he held in his arms.
‘This is bad, no-this is terrible. Clovis, or whoever is commanding things, lied about this girl and only told a few people. That's why the purists were sent. It wasn't a grunt job, but he needed the best pilots in Area 11. And I've heard about that scar from one of the opponents; it matches the scar of the captain of Clovis's royal guard.' Lelouch's mind raced to take in as much info as possible and try and create a plan to escape, but the presence of the royal guard complicated things.
They couldn't just be commanded by anyone outside the emperor; only the royal they were assigned to command them, so for them to be here means that, at the very least, Clovis signed off on this and ordered his men to join in the hunt. No, Clovis wasn't that kind of person. His royal guard would only get involved if his ass could be on the line as well. But what in the hell did this girl mean? Clovis was an imperial prince, the Viceroy; no petty scandal could threaten his position, not even most crimes unless…
Unless whatever he was doing with this girl was just that depraved, that serious, that not even his titles and position could save him. That narrowed it down but left him sick to his stomach and contemplating what he could be doing in God's name. 'Whoever this girl is, as long as she's not in his grasp, she's a threat to Clovis, and that means that Suzaku and I won't be allowed to live.'
“However, in light of your outstanding military achievements, I’ll be lenient with you. Execute the terrorist, and you'll only get a week of extra jobs at your barracks." The captain held his gun out, a pistol for Suzaku to take from him.
"But sir, he's not a terrorist; he's a Britannian citizen who was taken hostage by the terrorists," Suzaku explained, looking back towards Lelouch, who wondered why he lied, but then again, he hadn't told him how he got messed up with this. Suzaku turned his gaze back to his superior, who looked displeased by his statement.
“You lousy-did you not swear an oath to Britannia?” The captain disregarded what Suzaku said once more, making it clear how little that mattered to him and if Lelouch was right, how little it mattered to Clovis.
"Yes, but…" Suzaku looked down before he turned to Lelouch once more. He saw how much his friend's face had paled, making those violet eyes all the more vibrant as they shined with desperation and fear. But it wasn't fear for himself. Suzaku didn't think he had ever seen Lelouch truly fear for his life; instead, he feared for others.
‘No, nonononono! I know that face, you just gave me that stupid face, don’t you dare do it, Suzaku! Take the gun, shoot me! Shoot him, do anything but that!’ Lelouch yelled at him through his eyes, knowing if he gave the game away, they would be killed faster, but dammit, he needed an opening, maybe they couldn't get out without a scratch, but they had been through worse and came out alive. Suzaku would know that so why wasn't he acting like that?
“I can’t, I won’t.” Suzaku turned his back fully to his commander, rejecting the gun.
“What?” The captain asked, giving him one final means to do as he was told, but he wasn't stupid despite what Lelouch liked to say. He could figure out that whatever that girl was, she wasn't something his superiors wanted to be seen. And if they wished to have Lelouch dead despite him being a Britannian, then they would surely kill him as soon as he carried out their orders.
But that didn't mean he would turn on them; maybe he could take the gun, perhaps he could kill the captain, but what then? Even if Lelouch pulled his weapon, they couldn't gun down all of them before they were killed. And on the off chance that they managed such, unlike when they were kids, they didn't have the protection of anonymity. Damned if they did, damned if they didn't, though knowing Lelouch, he would prefer it if they went down swinging.
Suzaku could take confront in seeing his friend act like this, no facades, no ploys-just his honest self. He was worried about him, that such a side of him would have long since been buried or burned, but nope, he was still the same person. He was more concerned for the lives of others than his own. A damn hypocrite was what he was.
He conveyed that relief and gratefulness through his eyes. 'Sorry about this, Lelouch. I can already see it. You might have the best poker face when you want to, but you're the most expressive person I know when it's down. But at least I got to see it again, so…don't waste this, I wouldn't want Nunna to get upset, and I don't want you chasing me around the afterlife too soon.'
"I won't shoot a civilian, sir; that is an order I cannot abide by." Suzaku sealed his fate; moments later, he felt a barrel of the pistol dig into his side before there was a pop, a searing pain, and he saw nothing else.
“Suzaku!” Lelouch felt his heart freeze when he saw his friend drop like a sack of potatoes. His mind, however, remained active. Voices were loud and screeching in his head as time seemed to slow. Lelouch felt his heart warm before bursting into flames as fury arose from his depths.
Turning his gaze towards the royal guard, he didn't think as he whipped out a pistol in record time; none of them had expected that a 'mere schoolboy' would be armed and, thus, had been slow to react. That would cost them as he brought his weapon to bear.
But as much as he wanted to slaughter them all, his mind won out over base urge and violent emotion as his aim shifted and it let out two shots, both hitting the floodlights, bathing the area in darkness.
“What the-?” One of the soldiers cried out, but Lelouch didn’t stick out. Having closed an eye before he made the shot, he was able to adapt to the lack of light much faster. Grabbing the girl in a bridal cover, he bolted for the exit.
He wasn't as quiet as he would have liked, as the captain heard him make an escape and fired blindly into the darkness, but he couldn't make out any shapes. "Calm down and find them. Someone brings out a torch!"
Hearing the commotion outside, Nagata didn't know what was happening, but he figured that something was going down, something involving some kid getting roped into their business. Kami knew where that happened, but he wouldn't let them kill the kid over it like they did that poor bastard who refused to stoop to their level.
Once the lights went out, he realized what had happened. He wanted to help, but his body was weakened by injury and blood loss, so he couldn't grab his gun and provide cover fire, but he could give them a better chance at surviving.
'Never thought this would be how I went out…saving a Brit prick from other even bigger Brit pricks.' He thought to himself as he reached for the third switch on the dashboard; next to it, he saw a picture. It was old, from before the war when he was just a simpler potter who worried about getting groceries and learning how to baby-proof the apartment.
"Death to Britannia…" He started, his finger reaching for the switch, but he felt no fear, no regrets. He was at peace. He would fight for his people, saving an innocent and spiting Britannia. The best part was that all these years, he would be with his lovely Hanako and bouncing baby boy, Kohaku. “Love live Japan.”
With that final war cry, Nagata flipped the switch, triggering an explosive rigged to the bottom of the truck, causing it and the vehicle to explode, taking him, the capsule, and 3 of the royal guards with him as the rest were forced back.
Lelouch felt the rush of hot air on his back and ducked his head a little to avoid any shrapnel that might come flying their way. Still, he didn't dare turn back. He turned the corner and vanished down a shadowy path, with tears in his eyes as he couldn't help but cry. He was alive despite the odds.
But it had come at the cost of his best friend. And in that grief, he felt it stir, egged on by voices that never ceased, that never gave him rest; their madness gave way to a cold, dark hatred that burned deep in his soul. That had been burning strong for years, carefully concealed but always there; the beast within had been asleep, but now it would awake. If Clovis wished for blood, then Lelouch would ensure he drowned on his own.
This, Lelouch swore as he continued to shed hot tears as he ran.
Line Break
Having just entered the ghetto, the G-1 Mobile base continued to move, protected by several squads of armored units, infantry, and knightmares. But on its bridge, all wasn't well for Bartley, who had just gotten the report from the royal guard.
“How could you let them get away?!” Bartley yelled over the radio to the royal guard, who hadn't reported what he or Clovis wished to hear.
“F-forgive me, my Lord. The blast was mainly directly upwards, but we're down by 3 men dead-” The captain nervously tried to explain, but Bartley wouldn't have it. They didn't need excuses; they required results.
"You could be the last one standing, and I wouldn't care anymore! Why the hell do you think I only told you people about it?!" Bartley yelled, as not even the officers or staff on the command bridge knew about the project. He believed it to be poison gas, and he would do his best to keep it that way.
“W-we’ll continue the investigation; we’ll access a map of the old tunnels quickly and cut them off before they can escape with it.” With that, the captain sighed off to get to it and hopefully salvage this, but Bartley didn't know how. If the truck was gone, then what about the capsule? The cover wouldn't last if they didn't recover something like it, and worse of all, it had been opened by some damned honorary and Britannian schoolboy, the latter still being alive with the girl. How would they track them through the chaotic maze of the ghetto?
Clovis decided that trying to hunt for her through such means would be fruitless. “The plan’s moved forward to the next phase.” He sat on his throne, a frown on his handsome face as he twirled some of his hair between his fingers.
“B-but your highness.” Bartley turned to his Lord, worried. He could only think of one thing Clovis would consider to be the following phrase: it was why they brought along so many troops.
“If knowledge of the project gets out, I’ll be disinherited. Tell them back home we’re carrying out a planned urban renewal.” Clovis hardly cared for it. It was a mistake to let the terrorists escape, as he never imagined that the numbers would be so foolish to open the damned thing.
Rising from his throne, his tone took on all the power that came from his royal blood as he gave the order. “As Clovis, 3rd prince of the empire, I order you. Destroy Shinjuku Ghetto, leave no one alive!"
His forces, loyal as they were, obeyed without question as from within the G-1, Sunderlands hooked onto the launchers before they were fired out, taking to the field. At the same time, their armored units sped up, racing into the ghetto while mechanized infantry followed suit. It was seconds later that the killing started as soldiers on foot, vehicle, knightmare, or attack craft targeted anything that moved.
It took time for the situation to sink into many, as a ghetto was prone to fights and the bark of guns, but such were often sporadic and localized; this was intense and systematic, not a battle between some gangs or even a tiny military patrol that strayed too deep, but liquidation. Those who had run inside when the planes first appeared were not spared as doors were kicked down and the walls painted in the blood of the tenets.
Those who ran in groups were gunned down by sustained fire from squads of Britannian soldiers; those who tried to hide in buildings found their locations sent to knightmares and armored units, who rained down anti-tank rounds and mortar shells onto the buildings, buildings that were already on their last legs and never built to be bomb shelters. It was a mercy if those who hid in them were killed instantly when the roofs collapsed, but many more would have indeed survived, condemned to be buried alive.
Men or women, young or old, healthy or sick, rebel sympathizers, or none of it mattered. All who called the bombed-out ghetto their home were to be put to the torch, with the charge being gleefully led by the Purists. Their red-shouldered Sunderlands rushed through the ghetto, the screams of the people ignored at best or reveled at best as they fired weapons designed to take down armored vehicles and low-flying aircraft, people being torn to pieces by their weapons as overhead, attack craft fired rockets and high caliber bullets anywhere they detected movement or a heat signature.
“The enemy is garbage that could never hope to become even honorary Britannians. Wipe out every last one of them." Bartley encouraged their forces, and as one of them, the same man who had fought and forced Kallen to flee only smirked at the destruction.
“Naturally.” He thought aloud before his radio turned on.
“Supervisor Jeremiah, General Bartley requests that you take command-”
"Bartley has staff officers for that; I haven't had this much fun on the front lines in ages," Jeremiah cut them off before he found another group of elevens trying to escape; now they couldn't have that, could they? So, he brought his gun to bear and fired into them, painting the ground and remains of the wall to the side red.
Line Break
Underground, Lelouch continued to run, carrying the girl in his arms before he tripped and fell, barely managing to shield her from the fall. Slowly getting up, his breath was laboured. Another explosion shook the hallway, causing dust and debris to landowners, painting them grey.
Lelouch glared at the girl, his eyes burning with hate before he turned around with a roar that ripped its way out of his throat as he punched a wall, then again, and again as he tried to down it out. The gunfire, the explosions, the screams-oh Lord, the screams but it was pointless. It was overpowering, drowning him as his mind was assaulted from both ends as he heard the same things coming from inside his head, fusing with the chaotic voices, as it was above, in his head, he heard the unorganized symphony of suffering and death sang for mercy, for safety, for loves ones to forgive and embrace them.
But this concerto had madness, and death always had high points. In contrast, one, the storm sang for one thing, even if it was never in unison: They chanted for death, of anger so strong and so deep no one man could ever birth it all, but one man was forced to house it, to live it every day and now, but it was always blended back into a thick, vicious maelstrom.
Punching the wall again, he didn't care that his knuckles were bloody and raw or that the wall was now stained red as Lelouch roared again, trying to find a peace he had not known since he was thrown into this hell all those years ago. "Damn him! Damn, Clovis, right to the lowest pits of hell! Damn, that insufferable, pompous, cruel, callous pathetic excuse of a person masquerading as a royal! All this, all this to cover up for your sins?!" Lelouch raged, his thoughts jumbled with the thoughts of others, the words of others, as his rage only grew as he turned back to the girl, his violet eyes burning with fury.
“What in the hell do you know that would justify all this? Well?! Why do you know that would be worth all this death and destruction?!” She didn't answer him or react to his outburst as his rage bled from him, replaced with a deep, cold grief, leaving him to fall to his knees as he banged his bloody fist against the wall. “What made Suzaku’s life something to trade…? Why Clovis…just…why?” He weakly asked, but the painter, the artist who was their Viceroy, wasn't there to respond or explain to him why a man who was the creator could order such cruel destruction.
…He had just got Suzaku back; there was so much he wanted to tell him, so much he wanted to show him, so much they could have done.
But none mattered anymore because, like with many of the things he held dear, it was taken from him…taken by Britannia. That lone thought, that piece that was wholly his, shattered through the chaotic maelstrom within his mind. It didn't destroy it; it never could, but it gave him clarity once more. Yes, he had known Britannia was a beast, a monstrous empire ruled by devils and parasites. This…this was expected of that. It was why he made that vow, signed in the blood of a fallen nation.
Suzaku would be missed deeply, but he was just another soul lost to this evil, an evil he would see burn to the ground. He hadn't planned on it today or this year, but life didn't care for plans, and he would adjust his. But for now, his first priority was getting him and his guest out of here alive, then saving whoever was still among the living above. Then and only then would he take Clovis's head.
He breathed through his nose and let it out through his mouth as he got up, wiping away the tears. "I apologize for that. None of this is your fault, and it was wrong to imply anything of the sort." Walking over to the girl, he gently picked her up.
"Can you move on your own?" "Then let's go. We stay here any longer, and the roof might just collapse in."
Lelouch and many others in the present world had no means of knowing that this moment would be a turning point, but this would go down in history as the day that the man who would shake the world order to its very core first stepped onto the stage.
The day the man of miracles proved his mettle, that Britannia, the world's greatest power, was not invincible. An event that in world history would forever be discussed in the same academic conversations as Ceaser crossing the Rubicon, Admiral Nelson's fateful mistake to lead from the front at the Battle of Trafalgar, or Napolean crossing the English Channel.
Today was the day the dog that would one day be known, revered, loved, hated, and feared as Zero would make his appearance.
Line Break
Well, things have been a little complicated this week, as this chapter was meant to be in the same range as the debut, but circumstances have left me in a bad position. Hopefully, this won’t happen next week.
As for the chapter itself, I have to admit that during planning, I thought I could fit a lot more into a single chapter, so I'm still working with stuff that was meant for Chapter 1. But looking back, it feels like it was a smart play to split things.
Line Break
This chapter was MEANT to be posted yesterday, as Friday is supposed to be its upload date, but well, if you haven't heard, my entire week was fucked thanks to a power cut last week. With my deadline approaching for this, I decided to just go all the way and write the entire thing, not cutting it so I could cover what I wanted to justify the chapter name.
Comments
3rddynasty
Oh boy. The build up for this snap is looking good
