Stage 1- The End Is the Beginning

"Hatred. War. Defeat. Suffering. Rebellion. Hatred begins anew."

A young boy and girl running through an open field.

"It is a never-ending cycle that none can ever hope to break. Through hatred comes more hate and through sadness, fear, and domination it is created again. Hatred expands to encompass us all whilst there remains no hope to go back to the way things once were. Those times, though not so very long ago, now seem eons away, lost in the hopeless march of time. The world continues spinning with little regard to those left behind. The world around us changes no matter how hard we try to stop it, but if it truly did stop, if there were to be no future then there would be no such thing as life. It is amidst this hatred that we can find friends, family, love, life."

The same girl holding a smaller one's hand.

"During war we find ourselves clinging to the shells of how we once were, hopelessly wishing that things could return to normal, but should we give up in the fight then there is no future for ourselves and the cycle continues on without us there to see it."

An empty hole in the rain-beaten ground.

"After the war is finished it is the victors who write history in their favor; they speak of fake rebellions and false crimes to justify their own actions. Those on the losing side become slaves to the whims of the winners and once proud empires fall before their new masters, weeping in sorrow unheard by the world around them."

Tears creating a puddle on the earth.

"Suffering is the only sure thing left for the losers no matter who the enemy is, there is no hope left for them at this point. Alone, they cry out but no one hears their voices; in solitude they fear for their very existence whilst the winners beat upon their doors and fail to comprehend them."

Blonde locks of hair falling softly to the ground.

"Through the suffering they find something to hope for, something to believe in, but this only incites a rebellion amongst the people and the winners of the war now find their once enslaved, powerless, hopeless subjects alive and fiery once again. New people join in the fight and it expands further until once again it overwhelms and becomes a battle ground."

A chess board, knocked over and forgotten.

"Such is the way in which hatred is spread."

Purple eyes alight with rage. Hollow dark blue eyes, unblinking.

"But through hatred there is another path, another cycle that is far more fragile than that of this unrelenting war. Hatred gives way to hope, and with hope comes a new future, a better tomorrow."

Two children gazing up at an elder black-haired girl.

"This hope then spreads to others until there is a fiery passion amongst so many that it is felt even by the enemy as an unrelenting, interminable path. The enemy can crush, stomp, and break this hope quite easily however, burning away the last remnants of their future, but the hope soon rises again just like the coming dawn. And so though this cycle can be torn apart very easily it is always created anew and thus its brokenness can even be considered part of the cycle itself. It is the one thing that men truly fear though death is always something to be wary of, there is nothing more powerful than hope."

Mud and rain washing down a forested hillside. Red spilling from a blue-haired boy. A fiery symbol of power.

"Hope though beautiful at its beginnings is also the thing that leads to more hatred as it is the reason why rebellion rises for with the hope of a better tomorrow comes the near certainty that one can finally defeat his enemies. Hope is abused and turned back to hatred..."

A wasteland filled with the dead.

"It is often said that the past has the power to change lives, the power to shape future, but this isn't fully correct. The past can do little to change what happens as it remains stagnant in place, always getting further from reach. The past's only power is to shape and change the people it affects and in doing so help them to change the future though the time itself never touches it. Events have no real impact upon each other but rather upon the people who are in these events.

"This is a truth most never learn and those who do seem to be the self-loathing types in the end. For although they wish to simply blame their actions upon events; it is only ignorant human ways that cause things to happen as they so often do. Most wouldn't put any blame on those involved; instead they'd look at them and say, 'That poor girl, look at how her life was ruined. It's all because of that.' or perhaps they'd say, 'That despicable boy, perhaps if his childhood had been better...' but there is no one to blame but themselves."

"The terrorists are hiding out in the subway system," came the voice of Commanding Officer Leroy Pescont, a man from the Royal Guard in charge of finding and securing the container of poison gas stolen by the so called 'Japanese' terrorists, through the headsets of the multiple low-classed Honorary Britannian soldiers, or as he, along with a majority of Britannia, liked to call them, 'cannon fodder.' "Your mission is to locate the weapon that they've stolen. Investigate the old subway system that runs in the residential district of the Shinjuku ghetto. Report in the moment you spot them; recovery of the target will be handled by us, the Royal Guard. You people bear the honorary title of Britannians now, but you were born Elevens; therefore, the stench of these monkeys ought to be a familiar one. If you want to earn the right to carry arms then show some results. This is your opportunity to show your loyalty to Britannia."

"Yes, my Lord," came the resounding cry of multiple agreeing voices. One girl rather than severing what remained of her pride and answering with rest, rolled her eyes not only at their easily conformable will, but also the pathetic Britannians that used this will to their advantage, stripping them of all honor until they were little more than dogs.

If one were to look at this officer without taking in the monotony of her uniform and removing the standard helmet of Britannian foot soldiers, they would find a rather tall adolescent girl, not yet out of high school it seemed, with black hair cropped at the chin and indigo eyes though one could argue them to be a simple dark blue. She had lean muscle mass as was necessary for a soldier and, though it couldn't actually be seen it was often heard, a sharp tongue and short temper.

'It's times like these that I remember why I hate Britannia so much,' the girl thought, following her fellow officer through the opening in the wall into a dilapidated subway terminal.

"Oh and Soldier 405," the despicable beast of a man spoke again, supreme loathing threaded through his voice, "Let's try to not be so insubordinate this time."

"Of course, my Lord," she struggled not to literally spit the words from her mouth. 'He has no right to speak to me like this!' the proud girl thought angrily. 'Or treat anyone like a stepping stone as he so often does. The Britannian military is a place for dogs to nip at each other's heels, trying to please a master who'll just turn and shoot them in the end,' she shook her head to vent her frustrations, 'And yet here I am right alongside them!'

Jogging further through the desolate and abandoned corridors of subway station, she found absolutely no life nor sign thereof that any had ever existed there. In all honesty it wasn't as though she was trying all that hard however, so she very well could have missed some vital hint towards human existence in the terminal. She was doing her rounds through this sector merely to keep up the appearance of her facade of loyalty towards Britannia. Why should she honestly care whether the mission was a success or not? The entire empire, along with all its ideals and holier-than-thou attitudes, was so disgusting and vile in nature to the young female that she felt surely in her gut that it all deserved to be burned to ash.

Without warning the girl turned sharply down a narrow hallway, following her ears towards the loud crashing sound that had just pervaded the silence. 'What should I do if it's really terrorists? I have no love or loyalty to Britannia, but nor do I possess strength or courage enough to blatantly defy it particularly when they have such a firm hold on me. Here I am helping the very people I hate! Will I become something as wretched as them and hate what I will become? Do I not hate myself enough already?' it was not often that she allowed herself to agonize over thoughts such as these, but just for a few brief moments in the darkness of solitude in a building so dilapidated it was abandoned by even those who lacked a home, she allowed her walls to crumble.

By the time she was stopping beside her fellow officer, her mind was as solid as ever, and the proud girl threw the last few moments from her mind ('Best to pretend they never existed,' she thought). "Suzaku, what happened?" She asked hurriedly, letting her eyes wander over the smoking wreck in front of her, not fully comprehending what it was she saw.

"The terrorists' vehicle appears to have crashed," he responded, calm as ever (she couldn't help but be a little envious). "I'm just waiting for visual confirmation that the container is still on that truck before I report in."

As though his words were a sort of command, the side of the truck opened, revealing that their target, with its unmistakable shape, was indeed still within the vehicle, so while Suzaku tapped his vest in order to signal that he had spotted the target, his female counterpart took the chance to begin moving closer towards it. What harm could poison gas do on its own when the terrorists who stole it were most probably dead from the crash?

'Wait, oh shit! There's a boy!' she thought suddenly, noticing him for the first time through the hazy darkness of the surrounding area. He didn't appear to be armed nor dangerous; however, one could never be too sure. She knew very well what some people were capable of doing without even lifting their little finger; physical strength only got one so far in the world after all. 'Is he a terrorist? He looks young, my age at the most. Should I attack or...?'

As it was she needn't have worried as Suzaku had it handled. His way of securing the situation was in the form of immediately attacking the boy, aiming a powerful kick (the girl knew that from past sparring experience) towards the torso of his opponent. The terrorist boy acted upon instinct, barely getting his arms up in time to block any severe damage to his head or torso; however, that didn't stop him from being forcibly knocked to the ground by the intensity of the blow.

The other boy had slow reaction times, the female soldier noted as Suzaku easily held the other male to the ground with a single hand gripping the terrorist's throat.

"Are you Britannian?" the boy forced the words around the choke hold he was writhing beneath.

Suzaku ignored him, disgusted by the means he thought his own people would go to just to overthrow a power that could be changed from within. He was a pacifist first and foremost after all. "That's enough mindless murder!" He growled out, mask falling from its rightful place over his mouth.

"Wait!" the other boy argued. "I'm not one of-"

Refusing to listen to the contemptible lies of the other boy, Suzaku cut off his words, "Planning to use poison gas?! Don't play dumb with me!"

"What if it's the truth, Su-?" the boy's fellow soldier tried to reason, willing to give the benefit of the doubt to someone whom she probably agreed with.

"Get off me!" the young terrorist swept his leg around forcing Suzaku to jump back. Even if the boy seemed to have little power, it never hurt to be careful. Both male and female soldiers took positions ready to fight should the other boy prove to be a more able threat than they realized, but it was his words, or rather the mouth and voice that spoke them that caused the two to pause- recognition freezing them in shock.

"I'm not here by choice," the boy's distinctively fierce purple eyes caught the light as he stood imperiously before the two soldiers. "And if that's poison gas it was made in Britannia wasn't it?"

"My God," the girl heard her companion breathe airily as she herself stood stock still, mind not capable of comprehending what it was her eyes insisted they saw. Perhaps she was finally executed for insubordination and this was the after life. Perhaps she was in a coma from a training accident. Perhaps she was high off of Refrain. This was anything other than reality for reality stated that the boy before her was dead long ago.

"Mindless murder!" he was saying, and oh how she ached to hear him speak more, to relish in the richness his voice had become, to let the emotions only he could feel so strongly engulf her being because even if he wasn't real, she could pretend he was for a moment. "Then why don't you just obliterate Britannia?!"

Even the words he spoke sounded like the same sentiments she'd heard so long ago, the fire in his voice that commanded all attention be upon him, and as her heart fled to the past she wished reality would just catch up with her so she could stop this game of make-believe for it was not truth after all, and it never could be.

"Lelouch," the male soldier fully removed his helmet allowing a mess of curling brown locks and expressive green eyes to be seen. "It's me, Suzaku."

That was all the confirmation it took. How many Lelouches ever existed in the world? But still the girl did not move. Now though she felt she was intruding on something sacred however, something no one else was meant to see.

"You-" the boy with the hauntingly familiar purple eyes stuttered over his shock as well as his words. "You became a Britannian soldier?"

"Yeah and what about you?" Now it was just awkward for Suzaku. Here he had been about to murder his best friend without realizing it while said best friend was fighting on the side most believed he himself should be on while the same was just as true in reverse. "You're a…"

"What are you saying?" His best friend had just insinuated he was a terrorist, how was Lelouch expected to react?

Suddenly as though God himself had just come to dwell among them, the canister- which had until then remained ignored by the reminiscing trio- burst into a spectacular amount of light.

'Funny,' the girl thought as she watched Suzaku tackle Lelouch, forcing the mouthpiece over the Britannian boy's face. 'I never thought poison gas would be so bright and colorful...'

"That's not poison gas..." Suzaku breathed as the blinding light dimmed to reveal a girl wrapped amidst a constrictive white suit and a swirling mass of bright green hair, topaz eyes dimming as well as she fell to the floor. "What is it?"

"I believe its what they call a girl Suzaku," the girl responded dryly, kneeling to check the other girl's pulse. "However I don't blame you for not realizing as we can be very elusive at times."

The male soldier ignored her instead choosing to assist the unconscious, phantom girl in reclining over Lelouch's lap.

"Tell me the truth Suzaku," Lelouch bequeathed him, understandably confused by the entire situation. "Poison gas, this girl?"

"Hey," the brunette argued, helping his friend undo the restraints from the strange girl. "It's what they told us in the briefing; I swear."

"Then it would seem all of us have been deceived by the lies of Britannia," the girl, still masked from the view of the ghost of her past that would surely recognized her without it. "Perhaps we should-"

As it seems only bright flashes of light are capable of startling our heroes, all three let out gasps as they quickly stood upon seeing the sneering countenance of Leroy Pescont and his fellow members of Prince Clovis's Royal Guard.

"Stinking monkeys," the Commanding Officer spat out, glaring daggers through both of the disobedient soldiers. "Being a Britannian, Honorary or otherwise, will not excuse you."

"Ah, but sir we were told this was poison gas," Suzaku tried to reason as he ran up to his commander.

"How dare you question orders!" Pescont would hear none of the soldier's attempts. "I dare say you must have learned well under that other insubordinate little wretch." His last words were directed at the girl of course; however, she merely chose to glare at the foul demon in shape of a man before her from the quiet, unseen, sanctity of her helmet.

'I despise this man with every fiber of my being, and not just him but all he stands for as well!' the girl's thoughts grew more harsh and cruel as they continued. 'If I could just do something right now without anyone being any the wiser; if there weren't any witnesses. I could tear out his tongue, and force him to choke out the truth for once rather than the acidic lies that have burned that stupid ass of a face of his for so long! He would writhe in pain, and wouldn't that be so much better than groveling before a man who probably hates him just as much as I?'

"However," the despicable man continued with a lighter tone, offering an escape route. "In light of your outstanding military achievements I'm going to be lenient.

He held out a pistol to the brunette soldier. "Private Kururugi take this and execute the terrorist."

The girl couldn't help but scoff internally. 'This man clearly knows nothing about Suzaku. Even if Lelouch had never been his friend, Suzaku would still never harm an innocent, even with the orders to do so.'

"But he's not a terrorist," the soldier argued, quite predictably the girl thought, as he glanced back to where his friend was still holding the strange girl. "He's a civilian who got caught up in all this!"

Of course, Pescont could handle nothing even remotely similar to insubordination whether it was disobedience in words or ways, he cared not. "You insubordinate little…" It was as though he was too overcome with fury to finish. "That's an order! Didn't you swear your loyalty and life to Britannia?"

"Yes but…" Suzaku could never fault from his path of change. "But, I can't."

"What?" his commanding officer demanded gruffly.

"I won't do it sir," he turned to face his friend, a reassuring smile upon his face. "I won't shoot a civilian. I can't follow your orders, sir."

"Very well," The ultimate price for defiance was the same, and the older soldier had done this so often it made no difference to him. His conscience was already muddled with the blood of innocent civilians so what could one more do?

Even if the girl had moved as fast as she could, she would not have made it in time to stop or even alter the bullet's course; that did nothing to stop her from trying however. It was too late though.

A single hollow echoing, a spurt of red life essence, a tortured scream of a boy, and it was all over.

Sliding to her knees before her Japanese friend, the girl checked someone's pulse for the second time that day, thankful that there was a steady, albeit slow, beat beneath her fingertips. She glared at the human who had just once again proved his inhumanity with a raging fire alighting within her veins at the very sight of him.

The man had no way of knowing the girl's anger, and instead offered her a deal he thought she would too generous for her not to afford. "Now Private Pertmann," he began in that ridiculous "commanding" tone of his. "If you'd be generous enough to do it yourself, I might even go so far as to ignore your previous actions as well."

The pent up indignation towards the man burst like dam through her words. "Like hell I would ever follow instructions like that!" She roared at him, preparing to rush the man with nothing but her fists.

"Then you leave me no choice," he sounded far too gleeful for his words.

"No!" the innocent boy being tortured by witnessing this atrocity yelled, his voice breaking over the single syllable.

The girl felt nothing but an overwhelming pain as a rose bloomed at her abdomen, and she fell flat upon her face with the same force she had just been trying to kill the very man who had just about killed her.

The girl couldn't hear the words the others spoke, numb as she was to reality. Even the pain it seemed was beginning to fade as she drifted further towards unconsciousness.

'You called out in pain for me even though you didn't even know it was me Lulu,' she couldn't help but be at least a little more content at that thought.

Her inner musing continued. 'You know, it kind of reminds me of that day only this time the roles seem to be reversed...' Somewhere in the far off distance an explosion sounded, but the girl knew it not. 'Looks like i probably won't be able to see you again and hold up my end of the bargain...' She was fading. 'Forgive me…' She was gone.

"And so it began the same way it all ended, we just wore different masks then."