Code Geass Fan Fiction / Crossover With Non-anime Series Fan Fiction ❯ Rebellion of the Enders ❯ Lost Colors ( Chapter 2 )

 

Turn 2: Lost Colors

 

***

 

“We must maintain our defenses!”

 

“Hurry and fortify our left flank! It's coming!”

 

The transmissions of the opposing forces bleeding over onto his frequency annoyed him ever so. Hearing the sniveling of his foes was an expediency he would rather do without. Unlike his brothers, he did not care for the suffering of his opponents, but the mission itself. If accomplishing the task involved genocide, then so be it. He was willing to destroy the world for his Mother's sake. It was the fate of those born without a purpose. Did that make him an expendable pawn?

 

He narrowed his thin, jade gaze on the mass of units below and maneuvered his Orbital Frame through the gunfire. Like an acrobatic in the sky, his special-made frame surpassed the Glasgows his opponents used in both technology and on firepower. Stretching its devilish wings great distances, it raised its claw high above its head and created a swirling ball of energy in a matter of seconds.

 

“What the hell is it doing?” one of the soldiers below hissed. “C'mon! Destroy it while it's stationary!”

 

Try as they may, the bullets from their Knightmares' guns deflected with ease thanks to the fiendish frame's energy shields. The ball of energy immediately expanded into an inferno that was ten times the size of the frame creating it!

 

“Maximum output,” the on-board computer informed him. “Ready to fire…”

 

“Shit! That thing looks like a meteor!”

 

The pilot of the devil frame bore no regrets. It was time to take their lives.

 

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he uttered, “Set this land ablaze, Iblis…”

 

The Orbital Frame, Iblis, pointed down at the hundreds of Glasgows firing at it like a god casting judgment upon its followers. The energy sphere of orange descended quickly upon the desert land, and before the units had a chance to disperse, it made a significant impact. Iblis used its wings for a rapid ascension as the meteor began making its crater…one that the enemy would not soon forget.

 

“Retreat! Retreat! Hurry! We must--”

 

The transmission was cut by static just like all of the others. He heard screams that could pierce human ears, he heard cries, and prayers to gods. But none of this affected him. He had long grown tired of feeling sympathy for the enemy. Watching the explosion tear away the land and erode valleys with its severe aftershock winds, he clenched his fists.

 

He wouldn't shed any tears. Not again.

 

“All targets have been eliminated,” said the computer. “Mission accomplished. Area Seven has been cleared of all enemy opposition. Duration of mission: two hours.”

 

Shrouded in a hooded robe of black, the runner of Iblis was able to hide his emotions well. Floating inside of the CPU sphere that granted him complete control of Iblis, he allowed the computer program to take over in plotting their next destination.

 

“They're late,” he muttered under his breath before hearing the buzzing of an alarm on his wrist. He looked down and saw his watch blinking 9 o'clock in the morning. He grunted, “Then again, so am I.”

 

***

 

“We're going to be late for class again because of your gambling addiction.”

 

“Please, don't think of friendly games such as chess as a gambling addiction, Rivalz.”

 

Stopping in front of the mansion housing the latest victim of nobles, the two schoolboys studied the men in black suits standing guard at the door. Burly and intimidating they appeared, but the young man, Lelouch, chuckled as began ascending the stairs.

 

“Ah, wait!” his companion, Rivalz, sputtered as he removed his scooter helmet and hurried after Lelouch. “Darn it, this is seriously going to reflect on my grades.”

 

But it was the usual routine when hanging around Lelouch Lamperouge. They had been friends for as long as they had attended Ashford Academy, and Rivalz always thought of Lelouch as a sort of an oddball. On the other hand, many geniuses were considered odd in their lifetimes and Rivalz did see Lelouch as a whiz of sorts. He never lost a chess game during his escapades, trouncing nobles for the mere look of astonishment just knowing that they were bested by a mere teenager.

 

Lelouch had a feeling today's session would be no different as he came to the door. The two sentry suits at the door looked down at the two skinny schoolboys with adamant looks.

 

Lelouch's mauve eyes hypnotized when he locked eyes with them, his tone cool and confident, “I have an appointment with your master… a friendly game of chess.”

 

The two guards glanced at each other then at Lelouch. “You're his opponent for today? A kid?”

 

Lelouch laughed, “Yes, I know. I'll probably be an easy win for him. But there's no point in not trying, right?”

 

The guards wouldn't argue that point, and he was on their boss' schedule for the day so he checked out. They opened the doors for the boys and kept their stern eyes on them as they entered the mansion, shutting them in as soon as they entered.

 

“Weird guys,” Rivalz commented before turning to Lelouch. “You sure this is okay, Lelouch?”

 

“Of course, Rivalz.” Lelouch smiled. “Nobles are the easiest preys to conquer.”

 

“Ah, you must be the master's chess opponent for today,” a frail young maid came from the other room for the two.

 

Lelouch grunted and nodded. `An Eleven servant…I'd think no less of nobles here.'

 

She was indeed an Eleven serving under a Britannian, Lelouch was sure of it. It was how things went in Area 11, formerly known as Japan. Invaded by Britannia for one of their greatest resources, Sakuradite, the Japanese were quickly overwhelmed by Britannia with the Mobile Humanoid Armored Vehicles or Knightmare Frames. Many Japanese were killed during the small war, and the end they were utterly defeated. Stripped of their name and pride, the Japanese were renamed as Elevens as was the country's name became Area 11, the eleventh country conquered by the Britannians. The Neo- United States remained neutral during the entire conflict, which surprised many political analysts. The Americans were usually the first to stand between countries going to war, but they remained silent. Not even the President commented on the invasion, which contradicted his beliefs. It earned Americans the Elevens' hatred. Hell, the Elevens probably despised the Americans more than the Britannians.

 

Such politics bored Lelouch for the time being. Only the here and now mattered to him. Following the maid into the game room, Lelouch laid eyes on his next victim. He was another snobby Britannian noble, arrogant smile and all, finishing a game against an old man.

 

“Hmmph, has your substitute arrived?” the noble pondered.

 

Rising from his seat almost immediately, the old man felt as though his guardian angel had come to save him from his predicament. “I'm saved!” he laughed as Lelouch and Rivalz approached the chess table. There were about five more suits in the room surrounding the table, all of them giving Lelouch suspicious looks.

 

“A student?” the noble asked.

 

Lelouch stopped and smirked. “Hm? A noble?” he mocked.

 

The noble tapped the butt of his nail file on the table, furrowing a small yet thick gray eyebrow at Lelouch. “Youngsters are lucky. They have plenty of time.” His expression grew more sinister. “Time to regret…tell me, what is your name, boy?”

 

“Lelouch Lamperouge.”

 

“Whoa,” Rivalz gasped as he came in for further examination of the dilemma Lelouch was getting into in this game. “I don't know if even you can win this one, Lelouch!”

 

“Rivalz, when should I depart from here in order to make it to the next class?” Lelouch asked him as though he didn't notice his friend's concern.

 

“I don't know…if we hurry, I'd say about twenty minutes.”

 

“Then I'll ask that you drive safely on your way back.”

 

Rivalz gave him a confused look as he went to take his seat at the table.

 

“This game will be over in nine minutes,” Lelouch told him as he took his seat. He spared a glance at the old man. “About that thing I asked for…”

 

“Yes, I'll talk to them about it,” the old man replied.

 

“Nine minutes?” the noble echoed. “It's twenty seconds per move.”

 

Lelouch picked up the black King chess piece, an earnest expression pasted on his face. “It'll be enough.”

 

“The king?”

 

The noble broke out into laughter from the move Lelouch was about to make. To move the King chess piece first…what was Lelouch thinking?

 

From the small smile on Lelouch's face, he was planning something big. And the noble's overconfidence would cost him dearly.

 

He guaranteed it.

 

***

 

“Ah, Lady Alana, you're back,” a soldier greeted the blue-haired pilot entering hangar, snapping to attention and rendering a salute.

 

Alana acknowledged the masked soldier with a grunt, looking around the large hangar filled with Dragoon mechas in for maintenance. “Where is General Renoa?” she asked him. “I need to talk to him.”

 

“I'm afraid he and the other two generals are in a meeting, but perhaps I could assist you, Captain.”

 

The captain of the Dragoon Battalion turned around the soft voice and immediately stiffened herself at attention. “Ambassador! And Chief Uzuki!”

 

The man dressed in white laughed, flicking his pallid bangs over the right side of his face. His white eye always gave Alana the chills and this time was no different. The Ambassador always had a tendency of sneaking up on her, and he always had the chief researcher of the mobile robotics section with him, the beautiful Chief Shion Uzuki adjusting her glasses and holding her folders.

 

“Please, Captain,” the Ambassador raised his hand and grinned. “There is no need to be so tense around me. I'm not really anyone important.”

 

“You're a Lord,” Alana snapped back, bowing her head. “I must show my respect to someone of such a high status.”

 

True, though he never did ask for such a high position in the world. Anyone deemed a `Lord' was considered of great importance when it came to world events. Though they could never assume positions of true power such as Emperor of a country or President, they were considered as such by the people for their unyielding devotion for humanity. Serving as an Ambassador for the Neo-United States before the Separation, Ambassador Phoebus ended many conflicts between countries including the second Cold War between the US and Russia. Many were shocked to find out that Lord Phoebus joined the ranks of the Space Federation, but those many have sided with him nonetheless. Though he is not the true leader of the Space Federation, the public deemed him so. The three Generals of the USFA acknowledged him as such too, much to his chagrin.

 

Lord Phoebus placed his hands on Alana's shoulders, leaning forward with a gentle smile. “Raise your head, Alana,” he whispered.

 

Slowly daring to look up, Phoebus' hands slid down to her arms as the taller woman wrapped her hands around his arms, nudging him away. “I must remain professional, my Lord,” Alana scolded him, though her blush said different.

 

“Yes, I suppose,” he stepped back and sighed. “You're still as uptight as ever, Alana.”

 

“How did Panzer Dragoon operate for you, Captain?” Chief Uzuki queried.

 

“Superb, Ma'am,” Alana replied. “But I expect nothing less from the top researcher in robotics.”

 

Shion giggled. “Please, I'm not that great. Just doing my job.”

 

“Forgive me if I sound rude, but I know you aren't here just for me.”

 

“We were actually on our way to Gamma Sector,” Lord Phoebus said with a cross of his arms. “Chief Uzuki is continuing to further the technology of the Dragoons as we speak.”

 

“Could it be the new Dragoon unit I've heard so much about?” Alana wore a small smile as she rubbed her chin. “Or could it be…Lord Phoebus' pet project?”

 

Phoebus' only reply was a mirrored smirk.

 

“We were thinking of having your apprentice test run the new Dragoons,” Ms. Uzuki suggested.

 

“Celeste?” Alana's sixteen year old apprentice flashed through her mind, the tomboy she was. The skill was certainly there, though. “She said she was interested?”

 

“Only if her master approves,” Lord Phoebus teased Alana.

 

The seasoned veteran pilot willed away the rising flush in her cheeks. Celeste Sinacide had been under Alana's care for years since an incident at the research facility where she was raised. Alana thought of Celeste as a tomboy, which was exactly what Alana was when she was young. She reminded Alana of her in so many ways, it was weird. Celeste was always smiling when around her too. When her master vanished, so did her smile. She was very attractive and mature for her age as well.

 

Alana was sure she would be able to take over when she was gone. She smiled sadly at the thought…Celeste…

 

“Alana…,” Phoebus uttered her name, sensing her sadness and reaching out for her cheek. “Would I be able to spend some time with you before your next mission?”

 

Alana's hand climbed up his arm, reaching his hand. She cupped it around hers and reassured him with her smile. “Yes…yes, I would like that...sir.”

 

***

 

“Ha ha! Nobles are the best!” Rivalz exclaimed as the noble stared at the table, his eyes wide in disbelief as Lelouch rose from his chair. “Because of their pride, they'll have no choice but to pay!”

 

“Have it sent to account as planned,” Lelouch told the astonished noble before leaving the room with Rivalz.

 

“That's a new record, too. Eight minutes and thirty-two seconds!” Rivalz added as they made their departure from the mansion.

 

“He didn't have much time himself,” Lelouch said composedly. “Nobles, hmmph. They're only masters because of their special rights.”

 

“You wanna take on Jaireven next then?” his schoolmate challenged with a sly grin. “We're different from Britannians…”

 

“How could they? Involving innocent people…”

 

Rivalz and Lelouch stopped, looking down at the crowd downstairs watching the large television built into the skyscraper. The image on the television showed one of the connected twin towers in another part of the city billowing with smoke. Suddenly, the live feed disappeared and the Britannia emblem came on as a female voice announced, “Thank you for your patience. There will now be a public address by His Majesty Clovis, the Third Prince of the Britannian Empire.”

 

And there he was, adorned in a royal suit of blue with a cape of white. He wore a face of concern, though Lelouch couldn't help but scowl at the young prince of Britannia.

 

“To the people of the Empire,” he began, “and of course to the many Elevens who are cooperating with us.” He clutched his heart as his expression grew grimmer. “Do you understand? My heart is now being ripped into two! It's being pulled into a heart of anger and a heart of grief! However, I, who has responsibility over Area 11, cannot bend to these terrorists!”

 

Lelouch's scowl grew darker, his fists shaking.

 

“Why? Because this is a fight for justice! A justice that protects all forms of peace! Now, everyone…Let us all lift up our condolences for the eight that sacrificed themselves for the sake of this justice, shall we?”

 

Lelouch and Rivalz continued down the stairs as Prince Clovis neared the end of his speech, going into the parking lot where Rivalz parked motorbike. Lelouch pressed the meter holding the motorbike as the city prayed in silence.

 

“You're not doing it?” Rivalz wondered.

 

“What about you?” Lelouch countered.

 

Rivalz chuckled, “It's embarrassing.”

 

Lelouch smiled and laughed, “True. Truth is, even if we cry, the dead won't come back to life. It's as simple as that.”

 

“That's pretty harsh.” Rivalz pulled his red goggles down over his eyes, hopping onto his bike.

 

“Well, in the end, it's just self-gratification.” He looked back at the image of Prince Clovis, unable to rid himself of that bubbling hatred in his heart. He kept his voice calm, however, at least around Rivalz. “No matter how hard you try, the world can never change.”

 

`And neither can this feeling I possess,' he thought to himself as he climbed onto the side seat. `Not until I've gotten my answer.'

 

***

 

“Wonderful, Your Majesty,” one of the Britannian women attending the social gathering commented. “To think you were just enjoying yourself at a party a moment ago...”

 

Clovis with his narcissistic swagger stepped down, his guards taking his cape off his shoulders. “Well, the governor is the face of Area 11. Doing this sort of thing is easy.”

 

“My, you're full of confidence,” another woman giggled.

 

“I'm merely preparing myself,” he replied, straightening his white ascot. “If I don't show confidence, it'll only give the media more ammunition.” He turned his light blue gaze towards the media people standing on the wall to left.

 

“Oh ho,” one of them spoke up, “we were just hoping if we could provide His Majesty with even a little bit of information…”

 

Clovis opened his mouth to say something in return, but…

 

“Your Majesty!”

 

Entering the ballroom with a purposeful stride, a bald man with a monocle hurried towards Clovis, breaking through the crowd.

 

“How rude of you,” Clovis sighed with a shake of his head. “What is it?”

 

“I ask for your forgiveness, but…” He leaned in forward, so that the others could not hear, “our project has been stolen.”

 

“What?” Clovis snapped, startling the man. “You fool!”

 

The man stepped back, wiping the sweat down his forehead with a handkerchief. “We told the police it was just some old medical equipment,” he tried explaining. “If we could just move all of our forces--”

 

“Send out the supervisors!” Clovis cut him off, retaining his calm over the pressing matter. “Use the Knightmares, as well!”

 

“That's another thing, Your Majesty…,” he didn't want to mention this, but the situation dictated it as so…

 

“What is it now?”

 

“About our `Guest'…”

 

***

 

“Hold it! His Majesty gave you strict orders not to interfere with Britannian affairs now!”

 

She stopped as did he.

 

The soldiers kept their weapons trained on the two nearing the aircraft. “We'll handle our own insects! There's no point in you Americans sticking your nose in now!” another grunt yelled.

 

“But it seems as though these so-called insects have done this many times before in these past couple of weeks,” she said, her back turned to them. “You can hardly call them maggots now…they've become bothersome flies. I'm just offering to help you swat them down.”

 

“What could you actually do with a piece of junk like that Harrier? We have Knightmares!”

 

“Aha!” She spun on her heel and faced them with a mocking grin. “Now how can you deny a pastime like this?” she asked, pointing at the aircraft in question. “Besides…things are not what they seem.”

 

“Regardless, you are to stay here! That's an order!”

 

The soldiers took a step forward, but the woman's laugh stopped them cold. Clearly, she knew something that they weren't briefed about. Either that or she was insane as ten rifles were trained at her chest. She walked around to her hooded companion's back, caressing him on the shoulders, and leaning in to whisper, “Make them dance for me, will you?”

 

The young man obliged without question, “Yes, my Lady.”

 

And in an instant, the puppeteer began his horrendous show.

 

To Be Continued…