"The pizza-eating sister—is that Suzaku? What's the news saying…"
"All hail Princess Vela!!!"
Just as Nunnally subconsciously asked about her childhood friend, the thunderous cry erupting from the loudspeakers interrupted her words, drawing everyone's eyes in the room to the television screen.
[Area 11 Time (UTC+9): 17/06]
[East Prussia Local Time (UTC+2): 10/06]
Scrolling news ticker:
— A.T.B. 2017 — Victory Parade at Königsberg — Her Highness Vela inspects the Imperial Army — Award Ceremony —
"This is the victory of Euro Britannia and Her Highness Vela! It is also the victory of Area 11 and Her Highness Cornelia! It is the glorious triumph of all Imperial citizens! Whether the overreaching Black Knights, or the blustering E.U. Alliance—they will all be ground to dust beneath the Empire's iron heel. This is the trend of the age. The future belongs to Britannia!"
"All Hail Britannia!"
As the proud anchor's voice rang out, the live feed appeared on screen.
Flags of eagle and serpent billowed in the wind.
"All Hail Vela!"
"All Hail Vela!!"
"All Hail Vela!!!" ×N.
A tidal wave of voices.
At that moment, the Rathaus Square on Kneiphof Island in central Königsberg was a flood of banners and armored vehicles.
Massive amounts of military hardware assembled in formation.
On the central avenue, tanks, transports, IFVs, self-propelled artillery, and mechanized infantry moved in disciplined ranks. But in this world, it was Knightmare Frames that drew every eye, standing at the peak of honor.
Such was the culture.
Even knowing its flaws, Vela could not overturn such inertia overnight.
Squad by squad, Knightmare Frames stood tall in their units on the square.
The fifth-generation [Sutherland Kai] were most numerous, followed by the sixth-generation [Gloucester], and fewer of the seventh-generation [Vincent: Early Mass Production Prototypes].
Some held lances in ceremonial salute, some stood guard, some marched with the main formations. Especially the latter—all fully armed, fueled, ready for battle. No spotless dress uniforms, no red carpets, no goose-steps, no bands—only the rumble of engines.
When each honored officer or unit returned from the stage after receiving the Princess's decorations—
"Salute!"
Almost in the same second, rifles clashed in unison, boots thundered, a sound that stirred the blood.
Then, without pause, they departed directly for the front in the Danzig Corridor to construct new lines.
Wave after wave.
"Euro Britannia…"
The Northern Army Group on the Eastern Front…
Kallen's face grew grim.
A glimpse of the whole from a single piece—the Black Knights' bitter defeat not long ago was unforgettable. Those veterans from the Eastern Front were terrifying.
Their skill, spirit, experience, ferocity, and equipment all outmatched Area 11's troops by far. Kyoshiro Tohdoh still lay in intensive care because of them.
And perhaps it was not her imagination—their armored units, compared to Area 11's, were not only more ornate and refined in color schemes and fittings, but seemed to be reinforced, expanded models altogether.
Clang! Clang! Clang-clang-clang—
With lances striking in rhythm, the clear metallic ring echoed.
Now it was the turn of the Area 11 Expeditionary Corps.
"Suzaku Kururugi."
A familiar name. The voice that called it was female.
A cold, resonant tone, full of authority. To Lelouch and Nunnally, it was instantly recognizable.
Nunnally's brows quivered.
Though blind, combining the news reports with the fact that Suzaku had been drafted into the Eastern Front—and that voice, unfamiliar yet unmistakably familiar—
There was no doubt about the speaker's identity.
Their royal sister—Princess Vela…
Nunnally still remembered those days before her mother Marianne's death, when she lived in Aries Palace:
Aside from her protective brother Lelouch, sisters Cornelia and Euphemia, only her gentle elder brother Odysseus and the courteous Schneizel treated her kindly.
As for Vela, Nunnally couldn't quite describe her feelings—certainly not unfamiliar. Unlike the hostility shown by many other half-siblings, Vela, though rarely visiting Aries Palace, had never shown enmity. Rather, she seemed simply indifferent, uninterested. She would bring gifts, tell stories, play games briefly, but never for long. Her lasting impression was of an elder sister everyone said was formidable, always busy with weighty matters.
"Brother…"
At that moment, the squeeze of a hand broke Nunnally's reverie.
Her brother's hand had suddenly gone rigid.
Lelouch's eyes grew cold.
His bloodshot gaze fixed unwaveringly on the magnified image of the elegant woman on the screen.
A face of a dangerous killer indeed, royal sister.
The Princess of Britannia—Vela vi Britannia—wielding supreme military and political authority over Euro Britannia, stood imposingly upon the steps of the old City Hall entrance, flanked by the Ninth Knight of the Round.
On both sides, fully armed guards stood with rifle-blades ready, their eyes all upon the white-uniformed Knightmare pilot ascending the steps.
The representative of the Area 11 Expeditionary Corps—Suzaku Kururugi.
A moment later—thump.
So clear was the signal that thousands of miles away, in the Tokyo Settlement, Lelouch and the others watching could hear the sound of a knee striking carpet as Suzaku knelt.
Suzaku!!!
Lelouch screamed inwardly in bitter frustration.
So it was you piloting that white-and-gold prototype Lancelot?!
Though he felt true joy that his dearest friend had survived the Eastern Front, piloting Britannia's cutting-edge seventh-generation machine—why this path? Why kneel to Vela? Why swear allegiance?
He should have been the one—
If not for this woman's interference, Lelouch might have partly revealed his secret to Suzaku, perhaps even made him Nunnally's knight. The three of them—bound as childhood friends, relying on each other through hardship—that alone would have given Lelouch the peace of mind to devote himself wholly, as ZERO, to battling Britannia.
But now, what did he see?
His closest friend, kneeling before one of his greatest enemies!
From her wheelchair, Nunnally instinctively clutched her brother's hand, sensing his turmoil.
On the television, Vela moved.
Shing!
A metallic scrape.
Drawing her ceremonial blade, Vela asked: "Do you swear loyalty here, to fight as a knight of Britannia?"
Her indigo eyes gleamed with the aggressive brilliance befitting her commanding nature. She pressed the sharpened edge lightly to Suzaku's shoulder, the blade angled inward—as if she could cut his throat at will.
"Yes. I swear."
The boy named Suzaku Kururugi knelt on one knee, head bowed, voice calm.
"Do you swear to cast aside selfish desire, to become the Empire's sword and shield, to strike Britannia's foes and protect her people?"
"Yes. I swear."
...
A knightly investiture?!
At this stage there was no turning back. If Suzaku refused, death was certain. Perhaps Vela would even slay him on the spot.
Lelouch's face twisted through regret, grief, and resentment—until only fury remained.
This woman—seizing not only the legacy of his mother and the Ashford family, but now even Suzaku, wrenching him away from Lelouch and Nunnally?!
If it were merely a matter of ZERO and the Black Knights' cause, Suzaku's refusal would have been best—suicide, or death at Vela's wrath.
But—
Suzaku was his dearest friend!
What was he to do?
He had already used Geass on Suzaku…
If Vela's policies were allowed to take root—if Suzaku Kururugi became the shining example of an Honorary Britannian rising through the ranks—the blow to the Black Knights' ability to rally support would be fatal.
To live, to have hope—that alone would be enough to dissuade the majority of Area 11's people from violent resistance.
After all, the Holy Britannian Empire was simply too powerful. Area 11 had neither the population nor the resources of the Federation or the E.U. To resist such overwhelming odds was almost certain death, with no visible path to victory. Unless driven to the brink of survival, not everyone had the courage to abandon family and livelihood to fight to the death.
Only the most hardened zealots, or those with blood debts, would persist…
"Thus, the oath is sealed. I, Vela vi Britannia, hereby appoint you, Suzaku Kururugi, as Acting Captain of the Area 11 Expeditionary Corps and Knight-Commander of the Armored Corps."
With that, Vela slid the ceremonial sword back into its scabbard. With a light motion she gestured for Suzaku to rise, extending her hand behind her. At once, her guards presented the insignia of captaincy and the Knight-Commander's decorations.
Vela placed them upon him one by one.
She was not Euphemia—having drawn Suzaku into her service, she had no interest in naming him a personal Knight of Honor. What she bestowed was an ordinary knightly title: granting him full citizenship equal to Britannians, officially recognizing his right to pilot a Knightmare and command troops.
Of course, the feudal dependency was unavoidable. Suzaku's records would forever begin with the note that he was scouted and elevated by the Third Princess.
"Captain Kururugi, you have proven your loyalty. I look forward to your future performance."
Unaware of the fury boiling in a certain black-clad prince watching from afar, Vela spoke as though indulging a casual habit: "When the East Prussia campaign is concluded, you will study further at the St. Petersburg Military Academy."
"Your combat skills are commendable. But your academic record… is poor. You fall short of the requirements for officer promotion."
Vela had reviewed Suzaku's evaluations.
Because of the war of subjugation in the Far East, his elementary schooling had been interrupted. By the time reconstruction came, when he should have been in middle school, he enlisted in the army. Only later, with the help of powerful patrons, did he enter Ashford Academy—but before even completing a semester, Vela's summons had pulled him to the Eastern Front…
He truly had no elementary diploma at all.
Vela was not one to recklessly promote people without skill, sacrificing soldiers' lives under unfit leaders. Without command ability and professional training, Suzaku was just an elite fighter, a senior NCO at best. Captain was the limit. To rise further, to major or higher, he would need formal military schooling, to learn tactics and coordination. At the very least, a night school.
At these words, even someone as thick-skinned as Suzaku lowered his head in shame, bowing deeply. "My deepest apologies."
"I don't need your apologies. What I need is for you to grow. Show me progress."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
Vela nodded slightly, then waved her hand. Her eyes moved past Suzaku to the excited Honorary Britannian elites of Area 11 standing behind him.
The show must be thorough.
Suzaku was the son of a fallen Prime Minister, so accusations of favoritism could arise. Others, too, deserved recognition. Merit would be rewarded.
In a colony of over a hundred million, proper division and management could be of immense benefit.
"Sekiya, Oda, Sato… step forward for investiture."
"Yes, Your Highness!" ×N.