Night fell like ink, leaving only the broken silhouettes of the Kyushu fortress under the moonlight. The scent of steel and gunpowder lingered, while fractured concrete and twisted rebar groaned softly in the cold wind. Sawazaki Atsushi stumbled through the ruins, his military uniform soaked in sweat, the communicator in his hand having long since lost its signal.
"Quick! Evacuate from the east side!" His elite guard captain lowered his voice, sweeping his submachine gun alertly across the surroundings.
However, the only response was the rhythmic marching of the Britannian army and the low hum of Knightmare engines. Suddenly—
"Mr. Sawazaki."
A clear voice emerged from the darkness like a pronouncement of judgment.
"This is the end, I'm afraid~"
Another voice followed immediately, deep and languid, carrying a hint of playful mockery. Sawazaki looked up sharply, his pupils contracting.
The silver-white Lancelot emerged from the shadows, moonlight flowing over its armor like a mythical knight descending upon the mortal realm. Beside it, the black-and-gold Gawain stood silently, its Float System glowing with a faint, eerie blue light, resembling a beast of the night opening its eyes.
"Impossible..." Sawazaki's voice was as dry as sandpaper. "The strongest fortress in Kyushu... fallen in a single night..."
His gaze drifted between the Lancelot and the Gawain, finally settling on their cockpits. These two Knightmares, representing the pinnacle of Britannian technology, displayed near-perfect coordination under the control of Zero and that white knight.
—Why on earth was the Britannian army joining forces with the Black Knights to attack this place?
Suzaku observed Sawazaki's expression through the Lancelot's monitors, a complex emotion welling up within him. This man... once swore to liberate Japan, and now he can only flee in pathetic disgrace.
He instinctively glanced at the Gawain.
Zero...
They should be enemies. Yet, during tonight's battle, when the Gawain's Druid System and the Lancelot's propulsion system worked in perfect harmony, Suzaku had succumbed to an illusion—as if they had been fighting side-by-side for years.
Why... is his fighting style so familiar?
"Suzaku, why are you spacing out?" Zero's deep voice came through the comms. "If you don't move, Cornelia's forces will arrive."
Suzaku snapped back to reality, maneuvering the Lancelot to raise its MVS: "Commander Sawazaki, surrender. Continued resistance will only lead to more senseless sacrifice."
A look of ferocity flashed across Sawazaki's face: "You Britannian lapdogs!"
He suddenly drew a pistol from his coat, but before he could pull the trigger, the Gawain's Slash Harken accurately struck the weapon away.
"How unsightly," Zero's voice boomed through the external speakers, laced with faint derision. "A hero claiming to liberate Japan, reduced to trying to escape by taking hostages at the end?"
Suzaku did not respond; he merely watched in silence as Sawazaki and his men were led away.
★ ★ ★
Nearby, Cornelia's adjutant was tallying the spoils of war, directing the transport of prisoners into specialized vehicles. This brilliant military achievement would undoubtedly be credited entirely to the Empire's sharpest spear, the Goddess of Victory, Cornelia.
Yet, Suzaku's face showed no hint of loss or jealousy; instead, there was only a relieved, pure smile. Military merit and empty titles never interested him; fulfilling his duty, protecting lives, and keeping promises—everything he truly cherished had been achieved in this battle.
His keen gaze caught the fact that the black-and-gold Gawain had not retreated, but remained like a phantom in the distant shadows. Suzaku took a light breath and opened an external channel toward the massive silhouette hidden in the gloom.
"Zero! I'll act as if I didn't see you this time. Leave quickly! The next time we meet..."
He left the sentence unfinished, but the warning and conviction within it were crystal clear. Next time, they would be enemies on opposite sides, fighting to the death. A clear scoff came from the Gawain's speakers, carrying an almost imperceptible sense of familiarity.
"Hmph! Such a stubborn fellow..."
The engines of the black machine suddenly flared with light, and powerful air currents kicked up dust. Its massive frame took to the sky with grace, the Float System activating like a giant dark-gold bird soaring into the blue. It left behind only those brief words—half complaint, half acknowledgement—to scatter in the wind.
As they climbed in altitude, the tension inside the cockpit seemed to loosen. C.C. leaned back lazily in the co-pilot seat, nibbling on a slice of pizza while her soul-piercing golden eyes squinted at Lelouch, who had just removed his Zero helmet.
"My—" she drew out the syllable with obvious mischief. "I thought you'd take the chance to coerce that Suzaku boy into doing something for you... such a good opportunity doesn't come often."
The frozen surface of the helmet reflected the faint glow of the control interface. The voice from beneath it carried a trace of intellectual fatigue and complex understanding:
"If I had said that, that indecisive guy would probably have crashed from the dilemma... and then fled entirely."
Lelouch knew Suzaku's stubbornness; it was a nearly clumsy persistence. Using Euphemia or "Justice" to pressure Suzaku would only produce the opposite effect. The Black Knights' ships were already on standby in the designated waters, and there were more complex situations on the chessboard requiring his next move. He maneuvered the Gawain, turning away from the Britannian army and accelerating into the distance.
★ ★ ★
The Lancelot was being expertly unloaded for maintenance. Kururugi Suzaku had just jumped down from the cockpit, not even stopping to wipe the thin sweat from his brow, when a slender figure approached with a relieved smile.
"Welcome back, Sir Kururugi!" Princess Euphemia's voice carried a cheerful warmth.
Her face held a look of profound relief, her eyes full of concern. The Princess's worry was so genuine that it warmed Suzaku's heart. He bowed respectfully. But as he rose, a question lingering in his mind finally forced its way out: "Princess Euphemia, about that..."
He weighed his words, his voice tinged with confusion and curiosity. "...I believe I saw someone using the name of Lancelot... someone very, very powerful. She crushed the key defense points in a single strike... is she a helper you know? She seemed... not to rely on a Knightmare?"
He stared at Euphemia, his emerald eyes deep with pure inquiry. The power that figure had displayed went entirely beyond the scope of a Knightmare; it was mysterious and formidable.
Euphemia's smile remained elegant, yet deep within her violet eyes, a fleeting, untraceable ripple passed. She clasped her hands in front of her, her posture reflecting impeccable royal etiquette.
"Oh my~" Her voice was soft and natural. "Who exactly did Sir Kururugi see? I wouldn't know~"
Her denial was light and clean, as if she truly knew nothing of it. But the pink-haired princess's heart was nowhere near as calm as her surface. Last night, at her request, that figure had cut through the battlefield like a falling star—the Fairy Knight, Lancelot.
The brief glimpse of the face beneath the mask, a beauty capable of toppling nations, and that inhuman strength... just the memory made her heart skip a beat. She was incredibly grateful she had used an absolutely private communication frequency at the time.
Princess Cornelia's attention had been entirely focused on the massive frontal assault, and Prince Schneizel's plans were concerned with the overall picture rather than such details. No one had noticed the tiny yet lethal variation appearing in an obscure corner behind the battlefield. Otherwise...
A chill crept up Euphemia's spine. Given Britannia's pursuit of absolute power and control, and its intolerance for the unconventional... how could they allow such a treasure, such a mysterious and powerful force, to exist safely in the hands of a princess whom some secretly mocked as a "vase" or a "puppet"?
She could almost see those greedy eyes, thick and visceral, surrounding that ethereal and beautiful figure. Orders, coercion, throwing her into endless battle, exhausting her strength like a common weapon...
Just imagining the future that figure might face caused Euphemia's slender hands, hidden behind her voluminous skirt, to clench involuntarily. Her nails nearly dug into her palms. That pure strength should not be profaned! That beautiful existence should not be imprisoned and destroyed!
A powerful protective instinct surged in her chest, overwhelming all other thoughts. She looked up at the loyal and upright knight before her. Those emerald eyes still held confusion, but more than that, they held sincere concern.
Euphemia took a deep breath, shedding the distance of royal protocol. Her voice became low and exceptionally serious, even carrying a faint, uncharacteristic plea:
"Suzaku," she called him by his name directly, like a secret between friends. "Please forgive my request, as it may be selfish, but..."
Euphemia's gaze was incredibly earnest. "I implore you as a princess, you must... keep the existence of that Lancelot a secret. Act as if... that person never appeared. Not on the battlefield just now, nor at any time or place in the future."
"Eh?" Suzaku was visibly taken aback, a deep sense of bewilderment flashing in his emerald eyes.
He didn't understand why Euphemia was being so secretive, but the weight in her eyes and a hint of... fear? It caused him to instantly drop his pursuit of the topic. He was a soldier, and more than that, he had struggled at the bottom of society. He knew the internal friction of the Britannian military and the power struggles of the high command.
There were darknesses and foul things hidden beneath the glory of victory that went far beyond what someone as innocent as Princess Euphemia could imagine—human experimentation, forbidden research, the hunting and studying of those with special abilities... he had caught fleeting glimpses of "Special Disposal Subjects" in files during transport missions.
"That girl... what happened to her later?" Suzaku had once asked a superior.
"Don't ask questions, Warrant Officer. That is simply Imperial property," the commander's cold reply still made him shiver.
The Fairy Knight, Lancelot... that terrifying power released by a "human" (as he assumed for now) without the aid of any machinery... power enough to rival or even surpass a Knightmare! It was a one-of-a-kind "specimen"! If the Empire ever found out... Suzaku felt a bone-chilling cold. Laboratories? Dissection tables? Endless testing and torture?
The young knight snapped back to attention, his bewilderment replaced by a steel-like resolve. He didn't even ask "why" a second time. Facing Euphemia's expectant and slightly nervous gaze, Kururugi Suzaku did not hesitate for a second.
He stepped back and performed a standard knight's salute representing absolute loyalty and commitment, dropping firmly onto one knee before the young princess.
"Yes, Your Highness!" His voice was firm and clear. "I swear to keep this secret, on my honor as a knight."
Euphemia's expression softened. "Thank you, Suzaku... I know this is difficult for you."
Suzaku shook his head, offering his usual sunny smile. "Protecting the innocent from harm—isn't that the duty of a knight?"
Even though he knew he was technically violating his oath as a soldier. Suzaku didn't know what consequences this decision would bring, but at this moment, he chose to believe in the gentle and kind princess before him.
Just as he had once believed in another black-haired boy.