The air in the Zabi High Command bunker was always thick with the scent of ozone and suppressed ambition, but today it crackled with something far more volatile: Dozle Zabi's rage.
News had just arrived, delivered by a trembling aide whose uniform seemed several sizes too large for his shrunken frame: General Revil, the stalwart symbol of the Earth Federation, had vanished from Zeon's most secure detention facility. Not escaped, not liberated by force—vanished.
Dozle, a mountain of a man even while seated, surged to his feet. His massive fist slammed down on the holographic conference table, sending the projected star charts into a storm of flickering distortion. Strategic deployments dissolved into chaos.
"Explain yourselves!" he bellowed, his voice a seismic force that rattled the reinforced plasteel walls. "Explain how the Federation's prize general, their very paragon, simply disappears from our custody!"
His blazing eyes swept across the table, locking first on Kycilia. Her expression, as ever, was a mask of glacial composure. Pale and sharp-eyed, she steepled her fingers and tilted her head in practiced calm.
"Brother," she said, her voice as cold and smooth as polished obsidian, "facts are still being ascertained. Premature accusations serve no purpose."
"Premature?!" Dozle roared, leaning over the table. His knuckles whitened. "The man is gone! The Federation will seize upon this! Their morale will skyrocket! Our victory at Loum will be diluted—diminished! This is a catastrophic failure!"
His furious gaze shifted to Gihren, seated opposite Kycilia. The elder Zabi sibling remained motionless, arms crossed, eyes vacant. Where Dozle raged and Kycilia calculated, Gihren was a statue of unsettling stillness. No explanation, no concession—just silence. A silence that unnerved the room more than Dozle's wrath.
"Gihren!" Dozle shouted, desperation leaking into his voice. "Do you have nothing to say about this treachery? This incompetence?!"
The silence persisted. Officers shifted uneasily, the young aide looked ready to collapse, and even the ever-diligent adjutants dared not interrupt.
Then, from a shadowed corner near the viewport, Degwin Zabi finally stirred. The aged Sovereign of Zeon did not rise, nor did he command with a regal voice. His words came as a low murmur, hoarse and heavy with meaning.
"They didn't release a man," he said, his eyes fixed on the void of stars beyond the glass. "They released a flame."
A collective breath caught in the room.
Not a man. A flame. A symbol. A rallying cry.
Dozle's rage faltered. Kycilia's gaze sharpened. Gihren finally stirred, the slightest tilt of his head betraying attention. The true gravity of Revil's disappearance settled over them. This wasn't merely a tactical failure. This was political alchemy.
---
The study in the Zabi estate on Side 3 was a world away from the bunker's tension, yet its air was no less heavy. Here, Garma Zabi paced across an ornate rug, his expression taut with unease.
"They've made him a symbol," he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. "Revil. Alive and free—he'll be their icon. A myth reborn. Every civilian loss, every burned colony, they'll pin it on us. And he'll make it all righteous."
Across the room, Lelouch von Zehrtfeld stood near a massive globe of Earth, tracing his fingers along the continents. He was alone, Tanya having been deployed to the frontlines days prior. In her place stood another officer—Lieutenant Gene Corwen, now assigned as Garma's new second-in-command.
Unlike Garma, Lelouch looked composed. His violet eyes were contemplative, as always analyzing.
"That was the plan, Garma," Lelouch said quietly, not turning around.
Garma stopped pacing. "What?"
"The escape. The chaos. It was all accounted for."
Garma's voice broke. "You mean… it was intentional?"
Corwen stiffened but said nothing, choosing instead to observe the exchange in silence.
Lelouch turned to face them, holding the monocular in his hand like a scalpel. "It wasn't just Kycilia. Or Gihren. Or my father. It was Zeon itself. Pieces were already moving—some by design, others by willful ignorance. All I did was observe the current and help it flow faster."
Garma blinked. "I don't understand… You're saying someone in the family wanted this?"
Lelouch's voice dropped, his gaze unreadable. "The Zabi family is not as unified as the war parade suggests. Some prefer their enemies alive, if it serves a greater plan. Or a personal one."
Garma looked between him and Gene, confusion clear in his features. Corwen remained still, lips pressed in a tight line.
"why gave them their hero ?"Garma muttered, trying to make sense of it.
"No," Lelouch said. "We gave them a dilemma. A hero who escaped under suspicious circumstances. A symbol that might unite them—or unravel them. It depends on how deeply they trust their own command."
He approached the illuminated globe, tapping at points along the Earth's surface. "The Federation is fractured. Revil will unify them, yes. But he will also centralize their chain of command, make them predictable. A martyr inspires the spirit. A hero gives orders. Orders we can anticipate."
"He'll lead them," Corwen said finally, speaking with quiet gravity. "Right into a formation we can break."
Lelouch smiled faintly. "He will galvanize their resistance—just as some hoped. And when the time comes, that resistance will collapse in on itself."
Garma slumped into a chair, numb. "they've turned hope into a weapon."
"No," Lelouch said, turning toward the window. "they've set the stage. The next act belongs to others."
For a moment, the room fell into silence.
---
Later, as the estate's corridor lights dimmed for the evening, Gene Corwen stepped outside with Lelouch, neither speaking at first.
Then Gene broke the silence. "You weren't speaking for yourself back there, were you?"
Lelouch paused. "No."
Gene narrowed his eyes. "It was them. Kycilia. Maybe even Gihren. You just gave them the mechanism."
"A current they already charted," Lelouch replied. "I simply made it harder for Garma to drown in it."
Corwen looked away, conflicted. "He deserves to know."
Lelouch placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then tell him. But be ready for what comes next. He's your commanding officer. But he's also a Zabi. And that means one day, he'll have to choose whether he commands the truth—or lives in service to its illusion."
For a moment, neither said anything. Then they parted ways beneath the dimming lights, each carrying secrets they could no longer ignore.
And from high above the Zabi estate, beyond the artificial sky, something unseen watched.
It waited.
And it smiled.