Slayer Anderson
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Crucible
🕑 Added 2021-03-15 09:38:05 +0000 UTC“…Continuing the meteorological report: today will be sunny with light cloud cover, chance of rain is less than ten percent, meteorite impact chances in the low twenties, though that will change tomorrow…”
Lelouch tuned out the continuing babble of the local Britainnian radio station as he focused his gaze skyward and into the light blue and vaporous gray-white strands of condensed water strewn across his field of vision. Rivalz was punctuating the dry language of the weather report with his own, sometimes obscene, commentary, creating a mind-numbing buzz of white noise expanding even over the commotion of midday traffic. Lelouch was amazed at the nearly oppressive heat of the Tokyo-3 Settlement, though he’d lived in the area for seven years, as even hismind refused to work under those conditions.
“-But still, that has to be a record! You even beat him under the time limit,” Rivalz grinned as he revved the gas of his motorcycle, somehow having transitioned from talking about ‘weather forecast-babes’ to his recent victory of the latest noble foolish enough to challenge him to chess. Disregarding Rivalz’ extortions of greatness, though he hadwon…
Easily.
Too easily.
The nobles of the city were simpletons, possibly the worst opponents he’d ever had the displeasure of facing…even though they provided himself and Nunnally with a livelihood, they were still the worst kind of racist bigots and ignorant tacticians that exemplified the weak rulers Britiannian nepotism kept in power. They were also the type of noble that Clovis evidently loved to keep around for the sheer fact that they kissed ass with an ability that surpassed even their own uselessness. In the beginning he’d only challenged the minor nobles out of sheer boredom, thirsting for the danger and sense of vulnerability that standing before those men gave him. He was, after all, in a situation where the revelation of his identity would lead to dire consequences.
But soon, the sense of danger had worn off. Challenging those petty imbeciles had become another mundane aspect of his life. Victory meant nothing, but loosing was almost impossible given his intelligence. School was little more than a chore, and he had little other in the way of responsibilities to distract him from what had become his sole purpose in life…
Revenge.
“Hey Lelouch, you okay?”
The question cleared the haze from the dark-haired teens eyes as he sighed. “Fine Rivalz, I’m just a little tired. Nunnally and Rei kept me up late last night playing video games.”
The blue-haired boy chuckled nervously. “I can see Nunnally doing that, she’s a ball of energy, but…Rei…” Rivalz shrugged, letting the sentence trail for lack of anything else to say. Really, there wasn’t much else he could say for fear of antagonizing Lelouch. After all, his best friend looked at the red-eyed albino as a surrogate little sister and treated her with nearly as much kindness and dedication as Nunnally. Even Nina who remained frightened and, well…twitchy around Elevens and Honorary Britainians in general thought there was something abnormal about Rei Ayanami, but never broached the topic for fear of earning Lelouch’s ire.
“Rei can be energetic when the mood strikes her. It’s just that…she doesn’t know any of the rest of the student council well enough to let down her guard,” Lelouch defended easily. In truth, he doubted there would ever be a time when Rei could relate to the other teens at their school. He wasn’t surprised to learn that Nunnally represented the only true friend Rei had made for the entirety of her tenure at Ashford. Of course, Hikari Horaki was something of a close acquaintance also if for no other reason than they were both on the ‘Jr. Student Council.’
He had to admit, it was one of Milly’s better ideas.
“Say, Lelouch…” Rivalz said, raising his voice above the wind as he pushed his bike through traffic. “Why do you, Rei, and Nunnally live in the clubhouse anyway? I mean, Milly said something about medical issues, but-“
“-It’s a special dispensation from the Chairman of the Academy. Rei and Nunnally have special dietary requirements and I-“ Lelouch cut himself off abruptly, but it was too late. Mentally, he cursed himself as Rivalz turned to look at him with wide eyes.
“I-I never knew you were-uh…” Rivalz trailed off awkwardly. “You okay buddy?”
“I don’t like to talk about it,” Lelouch responded immediately, his eyes sliding shut as phantom pains harshly caressed old injuries and even older wounds. Especially intense were the gashing scars that ran along his back even to this day, the almost searing sensation running along his skin a keepsake from the darkest time in his life.
Rivalz’ gaze widened as he tried to simultaneously keep his eyes on the road and his friend. Lelouch’s muscles were tensed and he was suddenly reminded of one of Nina’s intermittent panic attacks…spookily so. It was almost like he was fighting something…something that wasn’t even there-
HOOOOONK-HOOOOOOONK!
Rivalz’ head snapped around as a massive truck bore down on them from seemingly nowhere. Two people were visible behind the dash, wearing heavy white garments as they pushed the truck closer and closer towards his bike. “Holy Sh-!” Even the motorcycle and side car swerved out of the way, the driver of the truck spun the wheel desperately onto an off ramp and-
Rivalz winced as the massive vehicle rammed into a series of guard rails and overturned a stacked set of girders, partially covering the truck with a blue tarp. “Lunatic drivers. Lelouch, you okay? Lelouch?”
The sidecar rocked as Lelouch stepped off the bike, an intent expression on his face. “Rivalz, I’m gonna’ go check on the driver. They might need help.”
“Lelu-Damn,” The blue-haired boy cursed as his friend took off at a jog towards the truck. “Shirley will kill me if you get hurt,” he said, almost entirely to himself as he watched the other teen marching purposely towards the still-stationary truck.
“No good deed goes unpunished,” Lelouch muttered under his breath as his feet beat the fractured concrete beneath them in a staccato rhythm, echoing distantly in the dark tunnel. The girl on his back shifted slightly and then teen sped on. He hadn’t seen any off-shoots, so he had to beat his pursuers to the other end and escape before they were able to locate him. That was the only thing that mattered right now…
Not even Suzaku’s death, shot by his own superiors.
Not seeking revenge from Britainnia for his own treatment.
He had to get away right nowwith as little undue drama as possible. This girl’s life, and his own, relied on him being able to get them away from the prying eyes of Britainnian soldiers. Run, just run-
-People dying-
-An innocent child screams-
-cell phone-
-they like killing, want to kill him-
-girl with green hair, stepping in front of him-
-she’d take a bullet for him?-
Ping!
It was the sound of a small metal object, a bullet in this case, rebounding off something hard and solidly unforgiving. Even as the collection of ‘elite officers’ stared in conjunction with the strange green-haired girl, a translucent polygon of 2-dimensional black-tinted energy held firm in mid-air before fading into full transparency. An errant beam of light refracted off the full, complex pattern of grid-like energy falling between the wide-eyed girl and her would-be captors. There was, almost simultaneously, the sound of ripping fabric from behind her…in the direction she knew the Britainnian student would be standing…
“Tell me…” His voice was strange now, C.C. realized. It was the tone of someone resigned to some unpleasant chore… “How should a Britainnian who hates his nation behave? How should someone no longer even wholly human react to this senseless bloodshed you seem so intent on?”
The blank terror in their eyes was obvious even as C.C. knew the question hadn’t registered. The squad of elites opened fire with their handguns, the fizzle of magnetic discharge sounding in the air as the electromagnets in their guns propelled the bullets forward. Inexplicably, she knew the attack would do nothing against the black-tinted wall of polygonal energy that had popped into existence so suddenly.
“If you can’t even answer that,” The teen’s voice stated, the tone almost…sad now. “If you can’t even answer that, then you fully realize the wrongs committed here today…for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
That was the last warning C.C. had before something reached out with slashing blades and invisible force the likes of which she’d never felt. Whatever it was reached past her, bathing her in an emotional warmth that was so sudden it dropped her to her knees in surprise. The troop of guardsmen weren’t even marginally as lucky as they were rentin twain and quarters by a fierce storm of nothing.
C.C. watched in mute awe and horror.
The sound of moving air and wind fluttering against something soft tore her from her vacant gaze and spun her to face…to face-
The Britainnian student, Marianne’s eldest, Lelouch vi Britainnia, Eleventh Prince of an empire that spanned the globe. His violet eyes were softer than his mother’s and his build was that of neither parent’s. There were muscles in places that Charles didn’t have, but they were thin and taught, not at all like the bulky frame of the Emperor. Of course, the whole reason why his chest was bare, and presumably it had been his shirt ripping free…
The pair of unfurled wings stretching out from his back, shining with ebony feathers, the pinion pairs dipped in the slightest patch of gold. With another shift of air and flutter of sound, he’d brought both appendages to rest on his shoulders, folding around him like some kind of cape or robe.
“Mad dogs,” Lelouch grunted, looking distastefully at the growing pool of lifeblood. His attention turned back to the wide-eyed green-haired woman and he sighed, “Are you okay?”
For the first time in over a hundred years, the White Witch was rendered speechless. Her gaping mouth only served to draw concern from the teen in front of her as he took a step forward to draw her golden orbs to match his own. “Are you okay?”
C.C. blinked at the repeated question and was about to open her mouth when the right side of the building they were in sudden imploded as a Knightmare, a Sutherland Frame if she wasn’t mistaken, burst through the already-weathered construction and turned it’s attention towards the only pair of individuals who were obviously still alive in the warehouse.
“You there, what happened here!?”
Villeta’s question was almost cut short as her mind caught up with what she was seeing. The two teenagers standing against the opposite wall before what seemed to be a pool of blood and crimson-stained rags that could have, at some point, been clothing. The sheer…violence apparent in the slayings gave her pause enough to take in the other, glaringly obvious discontinuity. The dark-haired boy had wings.
Wings.
And that was the last thing Viletta Nu was aware of for a considerable time.
“What are you?” C.C. asked, her golden eyes glittering with curiosity and undisguised interest in the ebony feathers folded against his back and shoulders. Even as she was curled up to the side of the Knightmare Frame’s cockpit, her left hand crept forward with an almost childish intensity and single-mindedness towards the appendages and their downy-soft coating.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Lelouch responded mildly as his hands flickered over miscellaneous switches to calibrate the unit properly. “Whoever or whatever you are…you are most certainly not normal.”
“Hmph,” C.C. snorted in disdain, “I don’t think that’s anyway to speak to a lady.”
Lelouch was irritatingly silent as she stroked his wings.
“What did you do to that woman, anyway? I felt the psychic pulse, you know.”
Lelouch’s keystrokes paused for a brief moment, then continued as if they’d never been interrupted. “Look, whoever you are-“
“C.C.”
Violet orbs blinked owlishly, “Excuse me?”
“Call me C.C.” The witch repeated, her hand still idly running with the grain of his feathers.
“Very well,” Lelouch ground out, “C.C, the only interest I have in you currently is seeing you out of this warzone alive. Beyond that, Clovis obvious has some aim in keeping you in that chamber…but it’s not truly my concern. My secondary objective is to stop this massacre…preferably without any further loss of life among the Japanese.”
C.C. blinked at that, her lips pursing in a show of curious interest.
She was…inconsequential?
It was a new feeling, she considered as Lelouch had a series of very one-sided conversations with a pocket of the Japanese terrorist cells. The teen actually considered her worth to be nearly negligible! True, he was as unique…possibly even more so than herself, but no one of her acquaintance had dismissed her worth as a valuable asset to be owned, hoarded, or lusted over. She turned her intense gaze towards the boy once again and resolved that he might, perhaps, be the one…
A feint…
…shift to an ambush-
A train full of Knightmares that were to be reinforcements-
-a makeshift troop of soldiers, a ragtag band that was waging a battle with Britainnia…
And Winning.
The tiniest glimpses she’d had of the child at Aries Palace had shown promise of a great mind and, as C.C. observed what seemed to be his first ‘field command’ the immortal witch couldn’t help but allow a grim smile to grace her face. He’d entered a battlefield and, within moments, had people running to carry out his commands. There was something in his voice, something that snapped men’s heads to attention and gripped their hearts and minds. C.C. had never believed the propaganda that Britainnia produced, she’d never bought into the divine right of a specific bloodline to rule, but…
Lelouch Vi Britainnia might stand to prove her wrong in this regard.
“A white Kngihtmare?”
The question snapped her out of her introspective thoughts and brought her attention back to the fact-sphere screen where a sleek and unknown machine was making it’s way through Lelouch’s rallied troops. The Black Prince sighed and set a few switches to new positions before taking aim with his slash harkens.
“Hold on.”
C.C. stared in disbelief. He wouldn’t…he couldn’t…
As the Knightmare dropped to street level, her jaw dropped.
He’d taken to the field of battle directly, something horribly uncommon among royals.
Kururugi Suzaku had never felt anything like it.
Being at the controls of the Lancelot was an amazing, fast-paced bombardment of to his mind and senses, drawing his performance out to an extent he’d never achieved. The Lancelot was a miracle of science and…it was his. The machine responded to every command, leaving him with a sense of power that only hardened his resolve to make a difference.
He would stop this battle.
He would stop the violence that seemed to drown the world.
This Knightmare Frame, this Lancelot, would be the difference.
And then his sword met a an invisible wall and was stopped cold. Black octagons echoed out from the impact point even as the sakuradite-infused Knightmare fought to plunge the blade through. Suzaku’s mind only took a moment to reboot, but that was more than enough for the other Knightmare, a Sutherland, to take advantage of the moment. Slash Harkens lashed out at an almost point-blank range and the battle was joined.
In the Camelot mobile command base, Llyod Asplund’s jaw dropped as a production model stepped up to do battle with his masterwork…and wasn’t immediately destroyed. Whatever kind of terrorist was in that vehicle, he would need monstrously fast reflexes to push that 5th generation Knightmare to keep up with the Lancelot…
The Sutherland opened up with a volley of fire that Suzaku immediately blocked with his own energy shield, the Blaze Luminous. The green field almost effortlessly deflected the bullets, leaving Suzaku to bank left and bring the Varis rifle to bare. What happened next would have sent Lloyd into gaping disbelief if he hadn’t designed and overseen the installation of the sensors himself. Even as the Lancelot fired, the blast met the same immovable field it’s sword had, bouncing the shot away.
Then, impossibly, the shield lashed out offensively and tore the Lancelot’s right arm and the Varis rifle to pieces, leaving Suzaku in horrified awe. Quickly shifting the Knightmare into reverse, the armored vehicle spun out of the Sutherland’s assumed range. The ‘battle’ that followed was almost as one-sided as the massacre going on around them, leaving the ragtag terrorist force that had been gathered staring in shock at their new commander as he virtually overran the seemingly unstoppable monster that had almost decimated their force.
As the Lancelot slammed, defeated, against a building, Zero’s voice ranged out over a private voice-only hailing frequency to the enemy Command Center. After all, his brother had always fostered a disproportionately large ego and by giving him the chance to concede quietly, there would be a greater chance to prevent further loss of life. “Clovis la Britainnia, Third Prince of the Empire, your forces have been defeated and scattered and your massacre of the Japanese is at an end. Order a full cessation of hostilities or I will take you and your subordinates as hostages for forced negotiations. This is your first, last, and only chance.”
There was a long silence before Clovis’ voice came over the same open frequency. The prince tone was somewhat subdued, almost painfully depressed in it’s message. “This is the Viceroy of Area 11, on my orders all hostilities are to cease in the Shinjuku ghetto; aid is to be rendered regardless of citizenship to any injured parties. I hereby declare the demolition of the ghetto a success!”
“Denial is always an ugly response,” C.C. stated somewhat cheekily, grinning at the blonde royal’s response.
