Blue sky and white clouds.
Ceremonial guards standing solemnly.
Majestic steps.
Flags fluttering.
Ranks of Imperial officers and soldiers passed by in grand procession.
Cheers, commands, footsteps, and the clash of arms intertwined, harmonious yet incomparably magnificent, powerful and strong.
The towering Imperial Guards with armored lances struck the ground, tilting forward.
The symphony of steel rang out. On the red carpet, fierce and valiant warriors of merit, bold in battle, ascended the steps respectfully, kneeling on one knee, offering loyalty with passionate fervor to their liege and commander.
The regal and heroic Imperial Princess stood atop the high platform.
Shapely and graceful, her figure full of vitality and strength, her healthy, well-defined contours were neither bulky nor lacking. Her delicate skin shone fair and flawless, while her dignified, exquisite face was framed by faintly curled pale-golden hair. Indigo eyes, sharp and luminous, blazed with brilliance like twin torches.
In the midst of conferring honors, the edge of her sword pointed forth, and the multitude roared like mountains and seas.
It was as though she had stepped out from a classical oil painting—a goddess of war and victory.
...
At least, that was how the staunch supporters of Britannia saw it.
As for others—
Area 11, within a safehouse in a residential zone.
Anger, curses, suspicion, doubt, curiosity, and indifference.
Here, the wounded Black Knights lay low, whispering heatedly among themselves.
"Wasn't that Kururugi just now?"
"Should be. The son of that Prime Minister who signed the surrender and then committed suicide."
"But why would the Prime Minister's son join Britannia's army? And with such obsequiousness?"
"Who knows—maybe he couldn't survive otherwise… But Sekiya, Oda, Sato… they had no background, right? Knights and investiture, is that real? If so, could we try…"
"Baka! Shut up!!"
With a crash, a headscarf-wearing brown-haired man kicked over a stool and shouted angrily: "They're nothing but slaves. Citizens, knights—vain titles. They sold away their dignity, their comrades, their souls! Traitors! Cowards!"
"Right! With more people like them, Japan ended up in this miserable state."
Someone immediately added: "Don't forget, Senba is still bedridden, and Todo and Naomi are both dead!"
"Yes! We are irreconcilable with Britannia!"
"Better to fight Britannia with ZERO than be their dogs! Even if we die, we'll take some with us—kill one, it's worth it; kill two, it's profit!"
...
Tokyo Settlement, Viceroy's Palace.
"Royal sister Vela has already secured victory on the northern front."
"To be precise, a stage victory."
Seated behind her desk, Cornelia drew back her gaze, turned her head, and said earnestly: "Euphie, observe and learn more, and don't let your thoughts run wild."
"Even if you wish to overturn the Empire's Numbered Colony policy, that is a matter for the future. I admit there are flaws in that policy, but for now, focus on completing your studies, Vice Governor."
After all, she was a doting sister. Despite Euphemia's repeated pleas and promises, Cornelia could not bring herself to send her back to the homeland.
Instead, she decided to keep her close, to guide her personally.
If that failed, Area 11 was not far from the Siberian Governorship. Sending her to Vela's domain—so vast that requiring her to write an investigative report in every city would be enough to distract her. It could even serve as a sort of study tour.
"Mm."
Like a chick pecking rice, Euphemia nodded, her large, lively eyes fixed in awe on the live broadcast screen, where her royal sister Vela commanded vast armies with composure.
Every word, every gesture, every look—from her alone, even the most arrogant of victorious legions bent in submission.
So different from when Euphemia herself had stood in for Cornelia during the "Kyoshiro Tohdoh Rescue Incident," fumbling over trifling art gallery matters. If it were her royal sister Vela handling internal affairs, what would it look like?
Seated thus—would any reporters or media dare to act insolent or frivolous?
Still, at least Suzaku had taken another step closer to his dream.
Although she valued Suzaku Kururugi greatly, and had been the first to approach him—after a heartfelt conversation nearly confirming him as one of her trusted confidants—Euphemia still felt genuine happiness at his achievements under her royal sister Vela.
She did not mind the so-called "stealing" of Suzaku.
'Hopefully Euphie can grow from this.'
Watching her foolish little sister press her hands together in prayer, Cornelia thought silently.
Then her gaze hardened, her expression solemn as she looked at the big screen.
Unlike Euphemia's simple curiosity, Cornelia saw the essence.
There were no spotless, brand-new uniforms. All wore battle gear, mostly worn, stained with dust and blood. Their clothing was not neat—one could even call it messy.
The tactical quick-release clasps and pouches on their bulletproof vests were stuffed with all manner of gear, mostly grenades and ammunition magazines. Some daggers were strapped at the waist, others slid into sheaths on their shoulders—wherever was convenient. With every firm step, even the clattering of loose items rang out in unison.
Without doubt, these soldiers were veterans, fresh from the frontlines and rushing toward the next battlefield.
It was the display of muscle, a show of authority, a celebration of another victory.
And so, had Nonette, that old spinster, finally made her choice?
Seeing the heroic female knight draped in the purple cloak of the Knights of the Round behind Vela, Cornelia furrowed her swordlike brows. With those two gathered together, she could already imagine how they would mock and taunt her in private.
"Cheh!"
...
Ashford Academy.
"So, she's… the Third Princess, commander of Euro Britannia, bearing the weight of conquest against the E.U.? Truly majestic, full of heroic spirit."
A girl's voice, filled with awe, broke the stiffening atmosphere in the Lamperouge bedroom, pulling everyone's thoughts back.
Without needing Lelouch's reminder, C.C. picked up the pizza box and, with practiced ease, slipped out of the room to avoid prying eyes.
"Compared to her, not even the former Viceroy Clovis… perhaps not even Viceroy Cornelia could match."
"But I don't really like her… She's just like the Emperor, making people afraid to even look at her."
Following the voice, Lelouch raised his head to see an orange-haired girl, arms full of various nourishing foods in boxes and bags.
"Shirley…"
"Ah, Lulu, don't move around with your injuries. This is pigeon soup I made for you—ah, did Nunnally beat me to it again?"
Like her warm-colored hair, Shirley was the energetic, lively type who could brighten anyone's mood.
"Hehe, Shirley-nee, as his sister, how could I hand over my injured brother's stomach so easily? Though thanks to Sayoko, of course."
The harmonious conversation between Nunnally and Shirley made Lelouch's hateful eyes tremble, clear for a moment before dimming again, as guilt long buried in his heart suddenly resurfaced.
Turning his gaze aside, avoiding theirs, his eyes met with Kallen's—who wore the same guilty look.
The Battle of Mount Narita, one month ago…
Sigh.
As the instigators, the two of them understood each other's emotions—deep guilt and regret. Even though Shirley had already moved past her grief.
Shirley's father had been an unfortunate casualty of Lelouch's indiscriminate surprise attack plan as ZERO, caught in the landslide triggered by Kallen's [Guren Mk-II]. He had died in the chaos.
"And sadly, Shirley, the most likely candidates for our future Emperor are down to four—the Third Princess, the First Prince, the Second Prince, and perhaps the Second Princess."
Blonde hair cascading in waves, Ashford's student council president made her entrance with a shrug.
"Oh, so Suzaku officially became a Knightmare pilot? And his rank has surpassed the restrictions on Area 11 Honorary Britannians? That's wonderful! If only he weren't in distant Eastern Europe, we should really throw a proper celebration."
"Uh… s-sorry to intrude."
Next came the shy, quiet Nina, holding a few boxes of pastries in her hands.
And finally—"Lelouch! Look at this treasure I found for you!"
Before he arrived, his loud voice already filled the room. The blue-haired troublemaker burst in, clutching an enormous wide glass jar.
"Rivalz."
For some reason, Lelouch felt a sudden jolt inside.
"What is this?"
Pointing at the glass jar of dark reddish-brown liquid, within which some indescribable lump seemed to be steeping, he forced himself to ask.
"A rarity from the Federation, some kind of tonic wine?"
Setting the jar on the coffee table, Rivalz grinned, giving Lelouch a thumbs-up.
"Made with deer parts. Supposed to boost your virili—ow!"
Before he could finish, Milly kicked him aside.
Even if Shirley didn't know what sort of "tonic" it was, she certainly understood the word "wine." Without dwelling on why Milly's smile suddenly looked like that of a mischievous uncle, she scolded, hands on her hips: "Rivalz, I knew it! Lelouch got his bad habits from you!"
The room erupted in chaos.
Since the arrival of the student council group, Nunnally's silver-bell laughter hadn't stopped.
Even Lelouch's heavy mood lightened somewhat.
Having a lively friend wasn't a bad thing.
Back to the main topic.
"Oh, Shirley, you've started taking interest in politics and military affairs too?"
Rubbing his chin, Rivalz spoke without noticing Lelouch and Kallen stiffen at once: "If you don't like strong types like Viceroy Cornelia or Princess Vela, then maybe you prefer Vice Governor Euphemia—the delicate and gentle type?"
"Hey, Rivalz… keep your voice down, that's too much."
Nina lowered her voice nervously.
"Come on, it's fine, think of it as a survey. Nina, who do you support? By the way, didn't you just apply for new research funding? That simulation-reactor project you've been working on got official subsidies, right? Congratulations. Will you need to go to Moscow for an interview?"
"Mm. I never expected to receive support. But perhaps Princess Vela's talent recruitment and incentive policies are broad enough to include even my field. I do plan to make a trip to Euro Britannia."
Perhaps because she was speaking of her specialty, Nina became uncharacteristically talkative.
"Their research funding, technological progress, and industrial development—the results speak for themselves."
"And since it's already applied to the military on a large scale, for Nunnally's blindness and disability, prosthetics should be a solution. But… Nunnally's body is weak, unlike the stronger soldiers. It would require major surgery, amputation-level procedures. Whether Lelouch would accept that for her is another matter."
"As for who I support—Princess Euphemia is kind and approachable, but Princess Vela, though distant and awe-inspiring, is reliable, and among the royals, she has the highest academic standing…"
Nina hesitated, weighing her words.
The former had risked herself during the Lake Kawaguchi Incident, protecting hostages taken by Colonel Kusakabe of the Japanese Liberation Front—including Nina, Shirley, and Milly.
The latter had long been her idol. Not only a military and political commander, but also one of the few royals widely acknowledged as a genius scientist—Britannia's "Goddess of the Lamp."
And it was thanks to Princess Vela's expeditionary forces sent to Area 11—
During the Lake Kawaguchi Incident, that cybernetic special assault unit infiltrated the lakeside hotel by water, striking precisely when Nina was chosen as the next hostage to be executed. At the moment Princess Euphemia revealed her identity and stood forth, the unit struck. In an instant, every terrorist present was subdued, and Kusakabe, the remnant of Japan's old military, was captured.
The ruthless executions, the crippling beatdowns of the arrogant terrorists, and finally the calm announcement, full of authority: "Citizens of Britannia, it's over. You are safe. We are the Euro Britannian Exchange Corps, assigned to Area 11."
Even Nina couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of exhilaration deep inside.
Watching those who had bullied her suffer at the hands of an even more violent force—it was satisfying. Truly satisfying!
Her only regret was that ZERO, that slippery figure, had stolen some of the credit.
Still, she remained grateful to Princess Euphemia for standing up at that moment.
At the same time, based on her own interests and future career plans, Nina's admiration for Euro Britannia's cutting-edge scientific development grew ever stronger, deepening her longing for the Third Princess, whom she had already idolized.
"All right, all right. Nina, no need to force yourself into choosing sides."
President Milly, seeing her dilemma, laughed heartily, patting the girl's thin shoulder before leaning in, her tone deliberately teasing: "Heh, why not both? Do the Third Princess and the Fourth Princess really have to be rivals?"
Enlightened, Nina nodded vigorously.
Yes. There was no need to pick a side. Princess Vela and Princess Euphemia—did people inside or outside the Empire really have to compare and choose between them? Could the younger truly challenge the elder?
"Wow, President, your heart really is like an old man's. But if our choice really mattered, then between Euphemia, with her love and peace, and Vela, with her war and conquest—who truly represents Britannia's future, who will make the world better?"
Shirley suddenly grew pensive.
"When will all this human tragedy finally end?"
Her eyes turned again to the large screen.
Broken streets. Moving in the opposite direction of Britannia's triumphant army, a column of blue-uniformed figures dragged weary steps eastward toward the POW camp by the Niemen River. These defeated E.U. prisoners were silent, exhausted, wounded, slack, their expressions vacant—such a stark contrast to the proud, westward march of Britannia's army. They looked like a rabble.
Lelouch simply stirred his soup in silence.
Soon, just as quickly as they had come, the student council friends left, knowing the patient needed rest. The room fell quiet once more.
No one would let a war broadcast from thousands of miles away affect their lives. A brief sigh, a touch of melancholy—that was enough. Those events were too far removed from them.
Except—
"You're still regretting it, aren't you, Lelouch?"
C.C. had returned, her voice ghostly.
"For dragging your friend's father into it. And that girl, Nina—she passed Euro Britannia's online research exams. Soon she'll go to Moscow. There's a high chance she'll cross paths with your enemy. Why not try assassination without Geass?"
"Shut up."
"You once told the late Kirihara of the Six Houses of Kyōto: 'Indecisive.' 'I'll walk the path of a demon.' But in truth, aren't you the indecisive one? Do you still think this is just a game of chess?"
"Shut up!"
"By now, you've killed many people—whether by your own hands, your orders, or through Geass twisting their wills and souls. They all had families, lovers, friends. Don't tell me you feel nothing. Your resolve doesn't seem as strong as you claim…"
"I said shut up!"
On Lelouch's handsome face was now written a fury suppressed to its limit.
"Of course I have resolve! I'll prove it to you! Nina is my and Nunnally's friend. I will never use Geass on a friend—"
"And Suzaku Kururugi?"
"That's different! I only made him live!"
"See? That's the proper use of Geass. Don't you already know?"
C.C.'s tone remained indifferent.
"So why this self-castration in other cases? Boy, you only get one use per person, yet your obsessive purity is really something that needs curing."
"You mean I should use Geass to enslave Japanese radicals? Or to control lower-level officials in the Britannian governorship, to undermine Cornelia's rule in Area 11?"
"I never said that. Those are your own thoughts. Accomplice."
...
Königsberg.
The roar of armored engines had rumbled on for more than half an hour.
When Vela at last pinned the final medal of honor upon the scarred chest of a veteran soldier, the war photographers around her pressed their shutters madly, and the cheering of the assembled troops reached a new peak—then ended.
The victory parade was concluded.
"Whew…"
Exhaling deeply, the broadcast cut off. Standing on the tall steps of City Hall, Vela stretched her stiffened wrists and tendons.
Image-building on this scale was hard labor.
Titles and honors could not be faked by stand-ins.
Such ceremonies worked best when she presided personally.
Standing like a pine for more than half an hour, her ceremonial sword drawn and sheathed again and again, conferring medals with well-measured smiles and words of encouragement—her lips were rubbed raw…
Yet Vela enjoyed it.
Never before had she commanded armies, never directly governed, never held in her hands the fates of tens of thousands. The sensation of mountains and seas roaring, of tens of thousands following her lead, was indescribable.
"Here."
The Ninth Knight, Nonette, tossed her a bottle of water with a grin.
"Thanks."
Vela drank down half the bottle in gulps, then asked as she descended the steps: "Where is Shaing of the St. Michael Knights?"
A communications officer immediately responded: "Your Highness, Sir Shaing has already led his main force to the Niemen River. They are crossing now."
"The fortress hub city of Daugavpils, securing the southern flank of your Northern Army Group, is currently held by Sir Manfredi of the St. Michael Knights, opposing the E.U. reinforcements from the Belarus front."
"What of the Lithuanian front?" Vela pressed further.
"After Foch's death, the morale of the E.U. joint forces in the Baltic collapsed. Our corps advanced unimpeded. Elements of the Imperial Guard, together with multiple infantry groups, have already encircled Vilnius, capital of the E.U.'s Lithuanian theater. The city will fall within days!"
"Lord Moltke reports the Southern Army Group's offensive is difficult but progressing steadily. Upon learning of Foch's death and that Joffre of the Warsaw Eastern Command could not provide reinforcements to cover the northern salient, Petain in Kiev has shown wavering resolve."
"Good. Tell Moltke to maintain the pace. No rush, no slack."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
Vela clasped her hands behind her back. "With the politically significant Königsberg operation complete… Nonette, accompany me back to St. Petersburg."
"Oh? Just like that?"
Nonette crossed her arms and teased: "I thought you'd go for Berlin."
"Taking back our ancestral land personally is enough. I've no interest in stealing my subordinates' credit."
Vela waved her hand.
"Now it's the E.U.'s turn to make a move. First, keep Petain tied down in Ukraine. Order Shin Hyuga Shaing to establish an East Prussia–Danzig line. I'll temporarily entrust him with the Area 11 expeditionary corps—let him show me his full ability."
At the mention of ability, a scarlet glimmer flashed across Vela's indigo eyes as she gazed at the line of E.U. prisoners.
As for seizing Shaing's Geass? She dismissed the thought.
[Love's Salvation]: A Geass of death suggestion, only effective when cast upon those one truly loves…
Tch. Overpowered.
She admitted she was incapable of that kind of boundless love.
Even given such a Geass, she wouldn't want it. A wasted slot.
Better to wait for the rare blue Geass user of the E.U. to present themselves.
"Leila von Breisgau."
...
Meanwhile, in Western Europe.
A castle in the German Autonomous Zone—Weisswolf Castle, codename White Wolf Base.
Here lay the headquarters of the W-ZERO unit.
"So, Vela vi Britannia just held a victory parade and POW march in Königsberg… Yes, I understand, General Smilas. I know the difficulty of the Forty-Man Committee, and I understand the public's sensitivity about casualty rates. Yes, I will accelerate the W-ZERO unit's training."
Beep.
Click.
Hanging up, a blonde girl with pale violet eyes slowly lowered the receiver, her gaze falling, silent for a long time.
"There's no time for proper training. This time again… how many will go, and how many will return…"
She whispered in sorrow.