I know I promised some of you that I'd have this out a long time ago, but, well, all I can tell you is I've been moving around a lot lately and, even worse, in the middle of settling in and trying to adjust, my laptop broke down and I lost a lot of files. I suppose I should count myself lucky that I didn't lose everything, and in the end having no choice but to rewrite most of these scenes allowed me to actually flesh them out more (not to mention that this also ended up far longer than I initially intended, for the break scene), but I want to apologize to everyone I've kept waiting.

I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"I think we should take a break," Jeremiah announced at the end of the latest "episode" they'd watched. "It's been a while since the beginning of these… whatever these are, so I'm sure everyone needs some time to adjust and have something to eat." He looked up at the empress for permission. "Your Majesty?"

Empress Nunnally frowned. She'd been looking forward to this all day yesterday. More than anything, she wanted to understand. To understand her brother, and why he'd done all he had. The Demon Emperor. Euphemia. God, there was so much she wanted to know.

But she was beginning to realize that there were still going to be many hours left. They were still only at Suzaku's release, and already she could see the tension strung through the others' postures. They were all itching to do something, and she'd rather that 'something' be relaxing than fighting.

She heaved a sigh and reluctantly nodded. "Very well," she relented. "I hereby call a recess. I'll have food sent here soon. Does anyone have any preferences?"

"Pizza," Anya piped up. Nunnally blinked in surprise, and her surprise only escalated when she glanced at the former Knight of the Rounds—so pink her gut twisted for a moment as her mind flashed back to lavender eyes and large clouds and red and falling, falling, falling—and found her smiling. Granted, it was little more than a smirk, but it was still more than Nunnally had ever seen out of the impassive soldier. "I'm sure we're all up for some pizza."

There were three groans from around the audience. Nunnally looked around in confusion and found Kallen staring balefully at Anya. "God, you're just like that stupid witch," she muttered resentfully.

Anya's lips twitched further upwards. "Am I?"

"Yes." It was Jeremiah who answered Anya, and Nunnally's eyes widened, bemused. "That's definitely an accurate description," he agreed.

Nunnally realized, looking at Jeremiah's resigned frown, that the second groan had come from him. That meant that the third—

"And here I was thinking that we'd finally escaped her stubbornness," Sayoko sighed.

Nunnally almost let her shock show in her unhinged jaw before she remembered her position as empress and carefully schooled her expression into something more appropriate. She had never seen Sayoko be affected by anything, in all her time under the Japanese woman's care. This was all kinds of new, and she recognized, in a moment of clarity, that though she'd gone into this with the thought that she'd finally uncover her brother's secrets, she was starting to learn more about everyone she'd invited.

Kallen's eyes widened with revulsion and astonishment, realization filtering through her at Sayoko's choice of words. "Wait, you mean that you live with that witch?" she asked, dumbfounded.

Jeremiah, Anya, and Sayoko exchanged a careful, calculating look, eyes narrowing in a moment of silent conversation.

Todoh caught their glances with his own shrewd gaze. Come to think of it, he thought, the three of them have been reacting to these… videos… less violently than everyone else, barring Zero. What exactly do they know? "Chiba," he muttered low into her ear, "be on your guard." He hated doubting his own comrades, but he'd since learned from his mistakes.

Li Xingke heard the tail-end of Todoh's words and his lips thinned. Personally, he thought that Todoh was smart to be cautious. Several of their fellow audience members had already shown that they couldn't be trusted, after all. People like Gottwald—people who were clearly on the side of the Demon, even though they'd already been shown that Lelouch vi Britannia had wasted his Geass on Gottwald.

He cast Tianzi a concerned look and resolved to be more alert. He might be within friendly walls, but that meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. He would never dare risk Tianzi. Warily, he swept his gaze across the Black Knights, the royals of Britannia, the students of Ashford, and lastly, Gottwald's group. He tried to assess Gottwald and gauge how much of a threat he posed to Tianzi and, on a wider scale, China. Anyone who had served the Demon Emperor, after all, had to have monsters of their own lurking within themselves.

If only he knew.

"That's right," Jeremiah said finally. They would have eventually found out anyway, if these videos played out the way he thought they would. "She's been staying with us since the end of Emperor Lelouch's reign."

Kallen's face twisted with something angry, something raw and real. "You've actually been housing that wretched woman? It's because of her that Lelouch turned out the way he did! She's the one who offered him his Geass!"

Sayoko frowned, looking away. She didn't know if she agreed with Kallen's views on it, but she at least knew that she'd never hate C.C. for it. She couldn't, not when Lelouch had made it so clear that he trusted her. "Whatever your personal opinion of her, Miss Kouzuki, it was still her who Lelouch confided in, and as such I am honor-bound to extend to her my hospitality. Either way, there is still much you do not know of her." And until then, she added silently, I suggest you keep your views to yourself.

Kallen's glare sharpened, but she got the hint and descended into a brief silence, wading through the unfamiliar waters of uncertainty. She would rather Lelouch had confided in her. But… but at least he'd had anyone at all to rely on. She sighed and swallowed down a snappy retort.

"Zero," Nunnally called over, "order for some pizza. The others are right; we're all growing restless. Surely a bit of food would do us all some good."

Zero nodded, and retreated a few steps so he could call for food.

Elsewhere in the auditorium, Sayoko sighed in relief when no one else argued against her, Anya's, and Jeremiah's choice. Speaking of which… She nodded at her companions and gestured at a dark corner of the theatre.

Anya hesitated, before she made up her mind and excused herself hastily, mumbling something under her breath before scurrying towards the opposite end of the room.

She glanced over her shoulder and was relieved to note that Sayoko and Jeremiah had already made their move, dismissing her actions as nothing unusual. It was only when she was sure she was alone that Anya closed her eyes and remembered, finally letting herself grieve her own loss now that she wasn't in the company of Jeremiah, who'd mourned the death of Lady Marianne.

She scowled resentfully. She wouldn't be the one to tell Jeremiah, not when it was so clear that he'd admired Lelouch's mother, but Marianne was far more sadistic than she'd ever revealed. There was more to her than met the eye, and she was perhaps the only one amongst the audience who knew it. Subconsciously, her eyes sought out Zero, and they narrowed when they landed on the masked man's unmoving figure. Him, too, she was sure.

Anya shivered, one hand going up to finger the back of her head. She leaned into her skin and felt an undeniable wave of relieve crash against her when she remained steady, solid, aware. Awake. The black nothingness never returned to claim her, never re-emerged to become her.

And even though she understood Jeremiah's respect for Lady Marianne—or at least, she tried to convince herself that she understood—she couldn't help the part of her that longed for the truth to be revealed. She craved the realization of the others when they finally saw that Marianne had never been who she'd pretended to be: a friend, an honorable woman, a mother.

Marianne didn't deserve anyone's admiration, especially not a loyal man like Jeremiah's. He was too good for her. Lelouch was too good for her. She'd wronged her own children, and Anya yearned for the woman hiding behind that perfectly crafted mask to finally show her true face, even if it was only in video.

I wonder how they'll react, she wondered, almost desperate. She'd had so many years stolen from her by a woman whom so many loved and idolized, and she wanted them back. She wanted her childhood back, her life; her freedom and her right to choose for herself. Those memories that had faded into the unfathomable abyss Marianne once lorded over—she shuddered when they resurfaced, reminding her that she'd been tainted.

The actions she'd taken under Marianne's influence, and all the sins she'd committed… She'd be vindicated, she promised herself. She would be.

They were wordless for a long while, silenced by the remaining tension that had lingered from the revelations of Lelouch's alter-ego. "To think he was Zero all this time," Rivalz finally said, cutting into the blanket of quiet with the efficiency of Zero's blade. Now that he was alone with the rest of his friends, he felt his mind racing to catch up to all they'd been shown; he felt himself mulling over it, and he let his thoughts spill over his lips. "He was Zero, we saw him almost everyday, and still we never knew it. Hell, I never even realized anything had changed." His voice was thick with shame.

"Yeah," Milly said after a moment. Part of her wanted to laugh and make a joke about it, see the familiar flustered embarrassment light up on her friends' faces, but even she knew this was no time for teasing. They were all too burdened by Lelouch's secrets, kept so well from them despite their friendship. "Me, too. I mean—I suspected something might be different, but... I chalked it up to Prince Clovis' death, and then Suzaku came, and it slipped to the back of my mind."

Thinking back on it, she felt like such a fool. Clovis' death? Even if Lelouch wasn't Zero, she doubted he'd feel much for a prince who lived entire worlds away (a brother who'd chosen to abandon him, she now knew). She shook her head to clear the thought, but though it faded her anguish did not. Self-loathing clung to her like second skin. How could she have been so blind?

She'd known him since they were children, and still she hadn't seen it. How could she call herself his friend when she overlooked something as clear as his new responsibility, weighing down on him so heavily and obviously that she scolded herself for missing it?

His friend. The word clanged through her like an earthquake. Did she still consider him a friend? Yes, she knew she did. She knew because she'd never stopped. And yet how could she take on that mantle when she blamed him for his victims' cruel deaths?

He is a demon. But he was her friend, wasn't he? What if she'd mistaken his mask as the devil as she'd mistaken his sincerity as a mere student? She hadn't noticed he'd become Zero, so what if...

She swallowed thickly. No. He is a demon, the demon emperor. She couldn't think of him as anything else, not when he was already dead. She knew that if she dared dwell on the possibilities and she discovered that he was anything more than he presented himself to be, she'd never escape the guilt.

He had to be a demon. For the sake of her sanity, he had to be.

"Do you think he was scared?" It was Nina who spoke, surprising them all. "Of dying, I mean," she clarified when her friends stared at her with wide eyes. "When he saw Zero... I wonder what he thought."

Cecile and Lloyd, still seated nearby, exchanged a knowing glance. Only the most cunning would have been able to decipher the conversation that passed in that single look. Cecile dipped her head in the slightest of nods, and for once, Lloyd didn't argue as he allowed her to lead him farther away from them.

Perhaps sensing the delicacy of the Ashford students' topic of conversation, Rakshata too left silently, affording them the privacy they deserved.

"Well, yeah," Rivalz responded with a confused look on his face. "I mean, aren't we all afraid of death?"

Kallen looked away, tears peeking out from the corners of her eyes. Lelouch, she thought, is he right? Were you afraid, in that moment before Zero's sword impaled you?

She brushed the thought away, almost desperately. Instead, she distracted herself with the realization that the other scientists had left; taking the opportunity to close their circle off from the others even more, Kallen left her seat and walked forward so that she stood across from Milly. She leaned back slightly against the back of the seats situated a row below them, and after a quiet moment Nina joined her across Rivals.

"He was," Milly answered, so confidently they all spared her a lingering glance. Milly smiled briefly, her smile sadder than any weep could be. "He might have been the emperor, and he might have seen death a thousand times before, but I have no doubt that he was afraid. After all, at the end of the day, he was just our Vice-President—he was still just a boy. And..."

She hesitated briefly, before her eyes darted to the empty space beside Rivalz, as if seeking the reassuring stare of the prince she'd always confided in, and she continued in a faltering voice, "And he had no one."

Rivalz's eyes widened. And he had no one. As much as he wanted to deny her words and argue with her, he knew it was true. He hadn't had anyone to lean on, to rely on as he faced mortal man's greatest fear.

"He died alone."

It was the saddest thing Nina had ever heard. Words so few, yet so powerful she had to hold in a sob. She hugged herself with thin, shaking arms. How many? How many innocent people had perished in the blink of an eye, snuffed out by her own invention? How many more had fallen alone?

It was a fate she wouldn't wish upon her greatest enemy, and Lelouch as Zero, she mused, might indeed have been that man. Euphemia's murderer... but he was Nina's friend as well. She closed her eyes and sank deeper and deeper into the sea of her regret.

"He wasn't alone," Kallen admitted finally, her blue eyes a well of truth. There was pain in her voice, and an undeniable edge that made Nina flinch. Kallen's hair bled the red of Lelouch's dying breath. "He wasn't alone," she repeated quietly, as if to reassure herself. "He—he had his stupid witch. And she—I hate her more than anything, but at least she was there for him... and that's more than I can say."

"That's more than any of us can say, Kallen." Rivalz's voice was a broken thing, so shattered and in too many pieces none of them could possibly patch it up.

"I hope you're right, Kallen," Milly breathed, and there was nothing but sincerity in her words. She just wished she could have stood by him, too.

For a few more minutes they did nothing but stand together, so close that their limbs bumped into each other as their heads hung low and their thoughts lay with their fallen Vice-President. His last moments were all any of them could mull over.

"How's that for a moment of silence?" Rivalz asked scratchily. He craned his neck upwards and his eyes feasted on the darkness of the ceiling above him. "How'd we do, Lelouch?"

"Rivalz..." Kallen's heart was plagued with an ache so heavy it felt like the organ would sink through her body and crash onto the floor. "What are you talking about?" The insanity in Rivalz's eyes made her close her own.

He laughed, but it was the laugh of a man with no options left to take. "Our tears won't bring the dead back to life," he quoted the words of another Lelouch, one without the mask of Zero to carry. One with nothing to worry about but the dull life of a student.

"Oh, that's dark," Nina remembered, echoing Rivalz's response.

Milly, recognizing where they were coming from, brought her knees up to her chest and continued the conversation, "It's all about self-indulgence."

"No matter how hard we try, the world won't change," Kallen murmured quietly, almost as if she was speaking to herself. She smiled tearfully. "You were wrong, Lelouch."

Rivalz nodded in agreement. "He changed the world." Even if he was a tyrant. "I try to remember the short while he was good, when people thought of him as just." He laughed hoarsely, so deranged the others looked away. "And then his death—" his voice shook, and he had to breathe in and out for a few long seconds before he could continue—"his death changed everything."

"Yeah," Nina agreed. She may despise his role as Zero and his part in her princess' death, but she could admit to that much. And more than anything, she knew Lelouch deserved the recognition after all he'd been through.

"He was a demon, but before that, he was our friend. We can remember him as that friend, at least."

"As we remember Suzaku and… and our other friends," Kallen said tentatively, hesitant to touch the subject that had been taboo to them for so long. When no one spoke, she continued, bolstered by their grief, "Shirley." It was only one word, one name, but it carried so much in it, to them.

At the beginning no one dared respond, but just when Kallen was beginning to regret her initiative, Milly rested a hand on the redhead's shoulder and said softly, "I hope they weren't alone, either."

"I don't believe it," Rivalz whispered. He shook his head furiously. "Or more like I refuse to believe it."

"Rivalz…" Milly whispered, frowning at him with tear-stained. "Stop it. Please—"

"No," he said stubbornly. "Because I can't, Milly." His voice broke a second before he did altogether and he banged his head against the cushion of his seat. It was too soft; he wished the chair was harder, crueler. "I just—I can't believe she would ever—"

"I can't either," Kallen spoke up when he trailed off into hiccups. Milly started and glared up at Kallen. Kallen glared back. "There's just no way, Milly," she shook her head slowly and pointedly. "Don't tell me you believe it."

Milly closed her eyes in resignation as the lie they'd built over the past months began to unravel. All their weak, fake smiles, their chipped masks and their stuttered conversations. Her breathing began to grow raspy.

"They're right, Milly," Nina added.

"No," Milly denied in a choked protest, curling her hands into fists. "No, Nina, you can't—!"

"Milly," Nina murmured sympathetically, but then shook her head and carried on, "they're right. Shirley—she was the happiest out of all of us. She let hardly anything get to her."

"Nina, please—" Milly begged, looking up through eyes that began to breach the line of insanity.

"Shirley was…" the young scientist paused, struggling to find the right word before she finally settled on: "optimistic always." Sanguine, Nina thought. Shirley had never stopped smiling for more than a few minutes in all the years she'd known her.

"She was," Rivalz agreed carefully. "And—it was so sudden, too sudden. It came unexpectedly, without warning. Before she passed, Shirley showed no signs at all of… of being suicidal." He was whispering now: "And there's no way she would just do that to her mother. I mean, after her father's death…" He sighed. "She wouldn't have. I can't accept that she'd leave her mother alone."

"There's no way she would have." Kallen nodded jerkily. "Milly, you know we're right," she said gently, pleadingly. "You know we are."

"I—" Milly exhaled a huffy, frustrated breath through her nose. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks puffy when she finally snapped, "Of course I know! But what would knowing she was killed help us any?" she demanded. "Who—who had anything against her, anyway? She was too good to have enemies, too kind."

The other three sagged in place, knowing they had no answer for her.

Milly shook her head. A shudder ran through her. "You're right," she said finally. "This—all I've been doing is hiding from the truth. And all this denial is cowardly. Shirley would have never committed suicide, not in a thousand years."

Kallen reached forward and grabbed Milly's hand. "We'll be okay," she said softly. "And Shirley—we'll find the truth, Milly."

Nina nodded rapidly in agreement. "Yeah, we will." She inched closer to Kallen. "It's the least we owe her."

Rivalz smiled shakily up at Milly, and after an internal debate, squeezed her other hand before he could change his mind. And though his cheeks flamed briefly, his eyes remained hard and determined, focused, as he vowed, "Whatever it takes. We won't let her death be passed off as a suicide."

Milly thought of every joke they'd ever shared, every time Shirley had ever laughed and cried and yelled at her—

"Madame President!" Shirley whined, cheek blooming pink. "Stop being such a dirty perv!"

Milly cackled with amusement, both of her hands still resting on Shirley's chest. "Definitely a ten," she hummed, nodding decisively in agreement. Her lips curled into a wicked grin at the scandalized look on Shirley's face.

"Prez," Shirley protested again, louder, slapping her hands away and scrambling backwards hastily at the same time. Her cheeks were flaming red and she looked about ready to cry. "Please," she groaned.

Milly only kept laughing, but allowed Shirley to slip away.

—every time she had ever teased Shirley about Lelouch—

"I told you already," Shirley huffed adamantly, but there was the slightest embarrassed smile on her face and Milly laughed. "I don't like Lulu!"

Milly's eyes twinkled. "No need to lie, Shirley, your secret is safe with me," she winked and snickered. "I won't tell a soul. He is your darling Lulu, after all."

"Madame Prez!" Shirley shrieked.

—and she squeezed back. Don't worry, Shirley. We've been fools for too long, but now we're ready. The truth won't escape us, I swear to God. Whoever did this, whoever was behind your death… we'll find them. We will.

"This is war! Why wouldn't I kill an enemy commander?"

She dropped her head in disbelief, her body shuddering minutely with a well of white-hot anger that burned and scorched her without mercy. This is war! Zero had bellowed, as if it excused him. This is war.

"Princess?" Guilford asked quietly, turning his body towards her slightly as if to shield her from the rest of the audience, and indeed the rest of the world. "Are you alright?"

Cornelia choked back a broken laugh. I'm not the one who needs protecting, Guilford, she thought, as her mind flashed back to her brother's words yet again.

This is war!

She cringed, the words ringing true in every vein of her body. War, her blood rumbled. Unknowingly or not, she'd used that very same excuse countless times over—I'm not going to apologize, Euphie—after all, we are at war, and they are our enemies—and she'd never once thought anything wrong with it. But now, hearing those words from her brother's tongue, she couldn't help the shiver that ran through her, disgust quarrelling with self-loathing.

Britannia, her brother's voice echoed in her mind, hard and brittle with the fire of an anger that had been gathering heat for seven years, is rotten. If you wish to bring change to this world, then join me.

Join him?

Join him?

Him, a man who had willingly forsaken his family (we forsook him first, a part of her thought, knew), who had taken up arms against his homeland (a homeland that had waged war against the nation he'd lived in), who had shot her—their—brother (a brother who'd ordered for the merciless slaughter of civilians), who had snuffed out their sister's light (there is no excuse for that one)?

"Come join me," Zero's voice thundered. "The Britannia you serve is a worthless dominion."

He'd called them worthless. He'd spat their empire's name with nothing but recrimination curling in his mouth. And he'd done so without hesitation.

The worst thing about all of this, she supposed, was that she was actually beginning to believe him. There was no denying that he had been the worst kind of monster, but there was also no denying that her father's Britannia had been just as cruel a master.

"Britannia is rotten!"

And it was. She'd played the willing bulldog of a king who hadn't even batted an eye in the face of his children's death. She'd acted the part of the loyal servant of an empire that thrived upon the slaughter of its enemies. She'd been the hand that had slaughtered those enemies.

Better than perhaps anyone else, she knew that Britannia was exactly that: rotten.

She had been a fool to serve Britannia so devotedly, as had so many other soldiers. Her eyes darted around once, quickly. Even in only this auditorium, she could spot Britannia's victims, disguised as her heroes. Her own knight, so dedicated to her name. Gino Weinberg, once one of her father's most steadfast enforcers. Anya Alstreim, another eager soldier blinded by Britannia's forked tongue. Even Jeremiah Gottwald had fallen prey to Britannia's devouring hunger.

We are Britannians, and yet we were targets ourself, Cornelia mused. Their world had been one that relied on the theory of survival of the fittest, and it had showed. Ours was a dog-eat-dog world, and though we pledged ourselves to him, my father had looked at us as nothing more than liabilities.

Her brother hadn't been fooled. He'd seen the truth of Britannia's illusions of luxury years ago, and he'd been punished for it. But he'd escaped, and as Zero he'd sought to educate the rest of them.

He'd realized it far sooner than her—as Zero, he'd preached of nothing more than the truth, and she'd laughed in his face. While he'd made the world his battlefield, she'd clung blindly to the ideal of the Britannian utopia.

She ground her teeth together angrily. She was supposed to hate her brother for what he'd done, not admire him. He was a monster through and through, worse than even the cruelest evils, and here she was praising him. It's all because of this goddamn showing, she thought, glaring at the large screen.

I can't forget the lows he sunk to, she reminded herself. I have to remember who he became, even as we see what he went through. Brother, you justified your actions to Suzaku by telling him, "The result, not a single death," but look how that has changed. Look at how many corpses litter your path to the throne, to world domination. Your ascension is marked with blood, brother—both your allies' blood and your enemies' blood, and you have been punished for it. That is what I must remember.

You were a demon. Even as I watch the horrors of our father's reign shape you, I cannot forget the horrors you yourself gave birth to. You were worse than even our father.

After all, Cornelia thought, a flare of pain burning deep in her gut for a few seconds, you killed Euphemia. You gunned your own sister down in cold blood. And I can never forgive you, much less forget.

Cornelia nodded firmly to herself, as if solidifying her own resolve to keep the memory of Euphie's death at the forefront of her mind. She was here for the truth, and only for the truth. She would unravel the web that comprised the events leading up to Euphie's death, even if she had to watch the rest of her traitorous brother's story to do so.

For you, Euphie, she thought, raising her head up high. And…

"But this nation," Suzaku argued, "it can be changed for the better, and from within."

Cornelia frowned thoughtfully. At the time she'd struggled to suppress her laughter at the sheer naivety of his beliefs—after all, her sister had died for that ideal, and she'd been wrong.

Now, though, she could recognize—albeit begrudgingly—that he had been correct. Even if it is only correct today because of who sits on the throne, she amended to herself, casting her younger sister a contemplative glance. Nunnally had taken to her duties remarkably well, for a princess who'd lived apart from the royal life for half her life.

Euphie would be proud, she added, unable to help herself, and she had to blink back tears at the thought. If only a change such as the one they were witnessing now could have been possible years earlier, before her sister had fallen to violence. Cornelia shook the thought abruptly and honed in on the silver lining; the knowledge that, wherever she was, Euphie was no doubt smiling down at them.

She bit her lip, a second thought lingering at the edge of her mind, threatening to drift in, and she already knew where her hesitation was coming from. Indeed, barely a second alter, the unbidden thought slipped in—And she wouldn't be the only one—and Cornelia swallowed tightly.

Marianne, her mind followed the trail immediately. Her idol's kind face of warm, laughing blue eyes and effortless raven curls filled her mind, and Cornelia's fists curled. I'll do this for you, too, Lady Marianne, she thought. I'll get my answers, and I'll discover the truth behind your own murder.

I promise you both, the truth will not elude me any longer. I will free you both of your stories. And free myself, too, of your tragedies, she added, almost as an afterthought, a sad, grieving smile twisting her lips.

"Yes, Guilford, my knight," she answered at last, bringing her eyes up to meet his. She smiled as sincerely as she could, trying to assuage the concern she could see brimming in his gaze. After a second, the smile became real, and her eyes hardened with determination. "I'm fine."

Or at least I will be. As soon as I find what I'm looking for.

"I can't stand this," Cecile muttered balefully a few minutes after the empress had declared recess. "I can't stand any of this."

Lloyd smiled knowingly. "Then I suppose you should be grateful we have a break," he said blithely, and she glared at him, not understanding how he could possibly be so frivolous at a time like this.

She shook her head. "I'd rather we get this over with," she decided.

Lloyd arched one eyebrow in question. "He didn't want anyone to know," he reminded her vaguely. "I'm willing to bet that if he knew the empress would get her hands on this goldmine so soon after his death, he'd rise up from his grave just to destroy all evidence."

She scowled. "Well, he's not the one who has to listen to all of the comments, is he?" she snapped. She took a deep breath and mimicked, her top lip curled into a disdainful sneer, "What a blessing that the Demon Emperor has died. Or how about: Every day since the death of the demon has become an international holiday. Every second since then has been spent in celebration, for the world rejoices now that we are rid of his disgrace. Or even, and this one is my personal favorite: He was a monster through and through, with absolutely no redeemable qualities."

"Cecile…"

"I'm sick of it!" she exploded, spinning around abruptly to bring them face-to-face. She raised her hand and curled it into a fist, and for a still moment he wondered if she would hit him; instead, she sighed, corralled her rage back into her control, and changed course to sweep her hair behind her ear. Her voice quietened significantly, but she sounded no less firm or furious when she repeated, "I'm sick of listening to people dance on his grave. He's dead, and everyone in the world believes it's a goddamn Godsend!"

"Need I remind you that that was his very intention?" he question with an exasperated sigh, and her glare only sharpened. "And, anyway, not everyone believes that. We don't, do we?"

"That's different. We know the truth!"

"Then that's exactly my point," he said triumphantly. "They may hate him, but at least we know that they are wrong to do so. What does it matter what people think, anyway, in the long run?"

"It matters everything," she stressed. "It matters the world, because they are despising him for saving us all. And goddamnit, Lloyd, I can't stand by and just let them believe they are right to loathe him!"

"You have to," he said, voice low and urgent, willing her to calm down and listen to him, to remember what they were all doing this for. "You have to, Cecile. Otherwise his sacrifice will have been in vain."

She opened her mouth, as if to continue arguing, before finally his words seemed to hit home and she deflated before his eyes. She closed her eyes and collapsed in on herself, exhaling with apparent exhaustion. "I thought I could do this," she admitted, her voice small and terrified and more real than Lloyd had ever heard. "When he was explaining his plan to us, I honestly believed I would be able to weather the insults directed at him and take it. I thought I'd be able to set it all aside because, well, I knew it was going to happen."

"It doesn't matter, Cecile. Whatever you thought—"

"I was wrong," she interrupted him before he could finish his sentence, and he sat back in his seat, stunned by her admission. "I was such a goddamn fool to think that. Because now I'm just so tired of pretending it doesn't bother me. I'm tired of agreeing when someone calls him the devil when, in reality, all I want to do is say, He was a hero. Lloyd… How do you do it? How do you hear all of these people, once his own trusted friends and allies, condemn him and not want to stand up and tell them all they're wrong?"

He was quiet for a long time. "I do it because I know I need to," he answered finally. "Because I know this was all part of his grand scheme. I do it because, well, someone has to make sure his plan goes according to plan."

"Lloyd…"

"Like I said, Cecile, at least we know the truth," he consoled her. "At least we can honor his memory as everyone should, but don't know to."

She bit down on her tongue, silenced her voice, and nodded minutely. He was right, she knew. She hated it with every fiber of her being, but he was right. They had no other choice. If they wanted Lelouch's hard-won peace to persist, they could only keep themselves mute.

And together, in complete stillness, they mourned Lelouch and Suzaku—Lelouch, for the life he gave up for the world's sake, and Suzaku, for the identity he threw away. And Lelouch and Suzaku both, for the childhoods they were never allowed to have and the innocence they both lost at so young an age; for the world thrusting them into war so soon.

They mourned them because nobody else would.

Do you remember, Cecile thought to ask, the first time we encountered Lelouch as an emperor and you begged him to allow you to study his Geass?

Or days later, when he finally agreed to be your subject and you cheered so loud the entire palace could hear you?

Or the time we walked in on C.C. and Lelouch arguing about C.C.'s intentions to blow off all his funds after he dies?

Or the time Lelouch invited us to dinner with himself, C.C., Suzaku, Jeremiah, and Sayoko, and we watched he and Suzaku fight over the last portion of mashed potatoes like they were eleven and children again? Like they didn't carry the weight of the world on their shoulders, even if only for just a few minutes until dinner ended?

There were so many things she wanted to ask, and words she wanted to say to fill the silence. There was so many stories she wanted to bring up, stories that filled her eyes with tears but also made her lips curl into an openmouthed grin.

There were so many memories.

Cecile wanted to reminisce each and every one of them. She wanted to let herself remember exactly who Lelouch was when he wasn't required to wear the mask of tyranny for the public, when he didn't have to hide himself and pretend.

But she didn't say a single word, because sometimes, silence was better than even the fondest anecdote. Sometimes, there was nothing she should say. Nothing she could say.

Lloyd noticed the slightest hint of tears in her eyes, and his gaze immediately softened. And as his face crumpled and he let go of the struggle of acting and lying to everyone they knew every single day, she watched him age a few dozen years in an instant. She watched him wilt, and with his eye-bags and sunken cheeks, he looked more tired than ever, as if he'd gone an entire week without sleeping.

She frowned, and was just about to query about his own state of mind when Lloyd jerked upward, and his eyes cut to somewhere over her shoulder. Within another second, his face lost its weary look and his lips beamed and he donned his cheerful charade once more.

Cecile stiffened as she noticed Lloyd's second transformation, and though she was prepared, her blood still curdled when she heard a familiar voice demand from behind her, "What exactly do you two know?"

Rakshata, Cecile recognised easily. She sighed and turned around, offering Rakshata a friendly smile even as she battled an urge to shout at Rakshata for her question.

Everything, Cecile wanted to tell her. We know the truth, which is more than any of the rest of you can claim, she wanted to shout, to shake Rakshata violently until she could see how wrong she and everyone else were to believe in the facade of the ruthless Demon Emperor.

Except that was what Lelouch had wanted: for them all to believe in his villainy, in his lack of compassion and mercy.

"Who the hell was Lelouch vi Britannia?" Rakshata carried on boldly when they remained silent, her brow pursing in thought. "As Lelouch Lamperouge, as Zero, as Emperor Lelouch, who was he? Why did he pursue a rebellion as Zero only to turn around and lord over the very people he once sought to liberate? Was he just trying to get close to the royal family, or was it something else? What was his purpose?"

It was something else, the thought flooded into Cecile's mind desperately. Every muscle of her body begged her to open her mouth and speak the truth, to spill the secrets she'd kept to herself for so long now, to defend one of the only men worth defending. His purpose was indeed liberation. But he didn't just want to free the people of Japan—he wanted to free everyone, so that we may all forget what it felt like to hate. That is who he was, Rakshata, that was his purpose.

"What was he trying to do?"

Break the cycle of hatred and establish true peace, Cecile answered to herself, and even in silence and in reflection the words hummed and vibrated in her mind as if they possessed sound and could be heard by whosoever cared to listen.

As though he could read her mind, Lloyd briefly rested his hand on her shoulder. Calm down, he told her without words. She bristled, but stayed silent nonetheless. After all, the least they could do for a man who'd risked everything for a world that hated him, was obey his dying wish, and do their best to keep his greatest secret under wraps.

"I'd assume he was trying to dominate the world," Cecile replied reluctantly, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. Lying to denounce a man who had willingly, and without hesitation, given his life for the masses made her skin crawl. "He terrorized over both his own people and the Numbers. There is no excuse for that, Rakshata."

Lloyd smiled at her for just a second, the slightest quirk of his lips conveying his pride. He didn't say a word, but she understood him well enough, and she gave him a subtle nod before refocusing her gaze on Rakshata.

"Don't try to convince yourself that there is an excuse, because I guarantee you, you'll be disappointed." Cecile swallowed thickly, squeezed her eyes shut for a fraction of a second to send up a prayer of God forgive me to the heavens, and finished silently, in complete contradiction of what she'd said, Please don't give up on him.

"Why?"

Anya almost let herself jump in her surprise. She corralled her nerves back in quickly and recomposed herself, turning around sharply to find herself face-to-face with a familiar pair of vivid blue eyes and a head of hair so blond he looked enshrouded in gold. She swallowed tightly, a wave of nostalgia and longing rushing through her briefly at the sight of him; she only let herself dwell on the past for a few barely-there seconds, however, before she locked the memories away and smiled thinly at him.

"Gino," she said impassively. "'Why' what?"

Gino, despite all of the years he'd spent as a soldier and then a knight alongside her, flinched. He'd never heard her sound so emotionless before—even in the past, when she liked to think herself without joy and without fear, he would sometimes be able to catch a glimpse of hope in her gaze. Now, though, there was nothing but ice.

He hesitated briefly, but forged onwards, "Why?" he repeated. "Why did you leave the Knights of the Round?" The words Why did you leave me? went unsaid, but they both heard it nonetheless, flooding the air with a tension so thick and heavy he could barely breathe.

She struggled to maintain her calm in the face of his pain. He tried to hide it, but he'd never been able to fool her before, and now was no different. She could recognize the anguish hidden in his eyes as clearly as if it were her own.

It might as well be, she reasoned. She felt like the betrayal she could see on his face was enwrapping her heart in a vice grip, squeezing and crushing.

With some difficulty, she forced the guilt to drain away until all that was left was a hollow numbness. "I've laid down my weapon, Weinberg," she said quietly. "After seeing everything Le—" she managed to cut herself off just in time, grimacing as she corrected—"the Demon Emperor did, I can't bring myself to fight again. Not when I can see, better than ever now, the innocent lives we steal."

"Bullshit," Gino sneered.

Anya blinked, stunned despite herself. Gino had always been so easygoing. It used to be one of the only things she envied him for: the effortless happiness with which he looked at the world.

"Being a soldier is who you are," he continued. "You've always taken pride in your rank as a knight. And 'better than ever now'? You've never lied to yourself as to what we do, the blood we spill, the casualties we bring forth. I never thought you'd ever 'lay down your weapon.'"

She pursed her lips. "Times change, Gino. You need to realize that, realize reality." She paused, waited for her words to sink in, and then carried on, "You're probably right: once upon a time, my knighthood was all I was proud of. But that's not who I am anymore."

His teeth gritted. "Fine," he snapped, jaw set and voice tight with frustration. "Forget your job, then. What about me?" he demanded. "You didn't have to cut all ties with me, too. You didn't have to stop talking to me altogether."

Anya flinched. "Yes, I did," she said firmly.

His eyes flashed with confusion, darkening them to a shade of cobalt. "Why?" he asked, his voice earnest and openly vulnerable. "What happened, Anya? Before you left to live with… to live with Gottwald of all people, I would have called you my best friend. But now… I don't understand."

Anya frowned. "No," she agreed, "you don't understand." You can't understand. This is how things have to be from now.

"Then tell me," he pleaded. "So that I do understand."

She chewed her lip nervously, conflicted. The broken quiver in his voice when he'd said I would have called you my best friend—no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop the regret that pierced her. Because the truth was she would have agreed, she had thought of him as the closest thing to a best friend she'd had, too, and now he looked devastated and it was because of her.

How was she supposed to remain indifferent when all she wanted to do was beg for his forgiveness?

Anya, let go. Walk away. You have to. A visible shudder ran through her as she inhaled deeply. Because as much as the betrayal on his face right now gripped her with guilt, she knew that the look on his face would be much worse if he knew the truth—if he knew she had supported the "Demon."

If he knew that she still supported him now.

"I'm sorry, Gino," she said, blinking rapidly. "Like I said, times change. And so do people."

For a moment there was nothing but silence, and Anya let herself hope that he'd believed her. But at the same time, she knew that even if he did believe her, he'd never let it go. He was stubborn like that.

Ironically enough, she'd once admired him for that same stubbornness. She'd once looked at his refusal to give up and thought, now that is a trait worthy of my respect.

Now she cursed that selfsame trait.

Unsurprisingly, Gino merely shook his head vehemently. "I don't believe that," he said, softly at first, and then he said it again, more sternly: "I don't believe that. Because maybe people do change, but that doesn't explain why you'd leave me. Why you'd choose Gottwald and the Japanese maid and the Demon Emperor's queen over me and everything we've been through. Why you'd walk away."

"Gino—"

"You don't do that, Anya," he said resolutely. "I've never once known you to walk out on anything in your life. I've never once known you to take the easy way out."

"Easy?" she echoed, a bark of laughter slipping out of her despite her best efforts to rein in her emotions. "You don't know what you're talking about. You know nothing."

"Because you won't tell me anything!" he countered in a burst of anger. "Because you won't trust me!"

She froze.

"You have to listen to me, Anya, sweetheart," the nameless woman in her dreams would often croon at her. "I only have your best interests at heart, I promise, but you have to trust me." Eyes so blue she felt a whole open up inside her and make way for the tumultuous waves of the ocean stared back at her, cold, heartless, vicious.

"You have to let me in."

And Anya, fool that she was, hopeless believer that she was, dreamer that she was, opened the door.

Anya trembled minutely, remembering the sheer agony that had ripped through her the instant those blue eyes had slammed into her own and left her defenceless. Left her without her free will and her purpose, without a body, without limbs to move and words to speak and actions to execute. Without an identity.

She remembered the scream that had burned in the pits of her stomach as she felt her mind changing, adapting, altering to fit the ideas of another soul.

"What do you want from me?"

"Nothing," the soldier looked painfully honest. Even she could not doubt the sincerity in his voice. "I ask nothing of you but for you to trust me," he said then, and she immediately shut down, her expression shuttering off.

"Impossible," she said, and she almost couldn't recognize her own voice, or rather the steel in it. "Trust is nothing more than a concept: manmade, feeble, fragile. Either way, I trust no one."

"I'm not going to force you," Gottwald said, tentatively. "But know that you can trust me. If ever you need me, then you know where to find me."

Anya licked her lips nervously. Almost even more painful than when Marianne had forced herself in was the moment Jeremiah had cleansed her of the queen's influence. At that stage, she'd already been under Marianne's spell for so long that the freedom that had coursed through her veins once more had felt so utterly foreign, unfamiliar, new.

Unreal.

She'd screamed then, too, less because of pain and more because of fear, because when she'd looked into the mirror she hadn't been able to recognize herself anymore. And when she'd looked into herself she hadn't known who she was.

"You were my mother's chosen vessel." It wasn't a question, but instead a statement—there was no doubt in that voice, only quiet assessment. His voice was barely a murmur, but she heard it as loudly and clearly as if he'd shouted it.

She nodded, spellbound by the glint of understand that smouldered in his amethyst eyes. "Yes," she confirmed, finding herself unable to lie in the wake of his empathy—not pity.

"I would apologize if I felt it would help any," he said after a moment, and she shivered, feeling him watching her with eyes that pried her locked gates open. "But I don't think you'd appreciate that."

"No," she agreed, "I wouldn't."

He hummed. "Sorries rarely help, anyway," he said.

"Then what does help?" the question fell from her lips before she could stop herself; her eyes widened minutely when she heard her own words. But she didn't take them back. Instead, she eyed him intently, waiting for him to make a move.

He smiled the slightest of smiles. He didn't offer a direct answer, only telling her, "Stick with Gottwald. He's the most loyal knight I know. I doubt he would understand my mother's crimes if ever I told him, but I do know that he is a good man. A trustworthy man. And in an age like ours, we need all the allies we can get. Especially for people like us."

'Broken people,' she assumed he meant.

Anya tilted her head. "What about you?" she challenged. "Do you trust him?"

His smile widened, and for a second, just for a second, she recognised him as the fearless king he so often presented himself as. But then the second passed, the moment faded, and he was no one but a terrified boy risking everything to save the people he cared about; a terrified boy knowing that every second he breathed, a death sentence hung over his head.

And yet he didn't hesitate even once as he answered, "With my life."

Anya stared at him in wonder. Here Lelouch vi Britannia stood, broken and bruised and burned by so many betrayals even she'd have trouble keeping count, and still he was willing to trust again. Still he was willing to take a chance.

And if he could do it, then maybe she could, too. She rarely let herself think of it, especially after she'd been forced to realize that she couldn't even trust herself, but she wanted to move on, she wanted to let go of the ghost that still haunted her even though Marianne vi Britannia herself no longer existed to possess her, and most of all, she wanted to start over.

Perhaps he was able to see her wish for a new beginning on her face, because he smiled knowingly and said, "If you really want to know what helps, my advice is, walk away. Stop seeking answers, stop seeking revenge, stop looking back at the past, looking to the past. Tell yourself it's over, and walk away so you can start living again. Start being happy again."

Happy?

She didn't think such a feat was even possible for her anymore. What did she know about happiness, anyway?

The Demon Emperor exhaled once and finished, "Let yourself smile again, laugh again. Let yourself trust again. Let yourself forget, Anya. Don't let my mother keep infecting you. Drop her, because you won't be able to live your life if you don't."

A silent second passed before she relaxed and nodded. She didn't need to keep up her pretenses with him—in a way, they were exactly the same. Both victims of a scheme to unravel the foundations of the world as they knew it.

And it was funny, because so many people believed him a monster, but in that moment, Anya thought that maybe he was the only person in the world who understood her. And she couldn't bring herself to think of him as a monster at all.

Instead, she imagined that he was her savior. Her salvation.

Anya couldn't help but wonder if, in his last few days among the living, Lelouch had allowed himself to follow his own advice—if he had managed to outrun his own demons. She hoped he had. He, of all people, deserved that much.

"Anya… Anya!" Gino's voice brought her back to reality abruptly. "Jesus Christ, Anya, what is going on? And don't tell me you don't know because clearly you do."

Anya looked at Gino again, this time noticing the pale white of his face, the bags under his eyes, the defeated way he carried himself—nothing at all like the dignity and discipline he'd once managed to juggle as the Knight of Three.

She hesitated.

"Let yourself trust again."

And God she wanted to, more than anything. She was sick and tired of letting Marianne control her life, of letting Marianne keep her imprisoned even now, of letting Marianne win.

When Jeremiah flung the door open that night, he found Anya still awake, sitting quietly in the living room. She had only the colors reflected on the television to keep her company in the dark. Jeremiah stopped short in the threshold, listening to the soft voices of a female mewsanchor reporting the most famous event to have occurred in decades—perhaps even in over a century.

"…millions of people around the world are finally allowing themselves to breathe a sigh of relief as Lelouch vi Britannia's death marks the end of the bloodiest reign in recent history…"

Jeremiah snorted—had everyone already forgotten Charles' own sins?

"We all thank Zero for ridding us of the Demon Emperor, and returning peace to our world. At last, Emperor Lelouch can hurt us no longer."

Anya noticed the darkness in Jeremiah's gaze, but didn't dare bring it up as the knight made his way over to the couch and sat down heavily. "It's over," he said simply.

She nodded. She didn't bother telling him nothing was over, not for her. She changed the subject and asked, "Where's Sayoko?" The three of them—Jeremiah, Sayoko, and Anya herself—had moved into a safe-house a few days ago, knowing that the moment the army understood that Lelouch was well and truly dead, they'd be hunted for the mere crime of associating themselves with him.

"Protecting His Majesty's body," Jeremiah answered. "I'll take over in a few hours."

Anya nodded. She didn't protest. Instead, she reached below, under the couch, and brought out a freshly plucked stem of freesias. She held it out for Jeremiah to take. "For Emperor Lelouch," she explained, "when it's your turn to guard him. Leave it with his body for me, would you?"

Jeremiah's gaze softened. "A sign of trust?" he interpreted the flowers.

"Trust," she agreed quietly with a small smile and a nod. "He told me it was important that I start trusting other people. He said I'd need to do so if I ever wanted to be truly done with my past."

Jeremiah nodded meaningfully, knowing better than to say offer his own two cents when it was obvious Anya was struggling to do even this. 'I won't let you down,' he wanted to say. 'You can always trust me,' he thought of telling her.

In the end, he said neither. "I'll make sure to deliver them for you," was all he told her.

When she awoke, a blanket was wrapped around her and the freesias were gone. She waited for a moment, letting herself lie down without a worry, before finally she smiled and sat up, turning off the television.

"You're right," she finally said. "I do know. But I still can't tell you, Gino. Believe me, I do trust you, and I want to tell you, but it's not just my secret to tell." She wasn't as surprised as she'd thought she would be when she found that she wasn't lying at all—she did trust him.

He looked disappointed, but still vaguely more triumphant than before. "At least you can admit it," he sighed. "I guess that's the first step."

"Perhaps," Anya agreed.

Gino grinned hesitantly at her, the hurt in his eyes slowly beginning to die. "What now?"

Anya shrugged, searched for Jeremiah and Sayoko, and found them at the other side of the auditorium. She hesitated, figured they didn't need her right now and she could stay with Gino for a while, and tore her gaze away. Her mind made up, she smiled back at him, this man she once relied on as her greatest comrade. "Now we wait," she said simply.

Gino groaned exaggeratedly, an echo of the carefree, laidback man he used to be, and she cracked a small smile at that. "Waiting is boring," he bemoaned, predictably, and she laughed softly.

She'd missed this. Missed him.

You're right, Lelouch, she thought, watching Gino as he looked around the auditorium for—presumably—something to do. I need to move on. I can't let the past keep me grounded forever. If I do, then I'll never escape Marianne's hold.

"Hey, that's Tamaki, right?" Gino prodded, face morphing into a grimace as he tried to pronounce the foreign name. He tossed a nod at the Japanese man sitting off to himself, glaring at everyone who so much as tried to approach him.

Anya hummed noncommittally as she looked Tamaki's way. She took a moment to ask herself why he seemed to be keeping to himself, before she shot Gino a conspiratorial glance and grinned.

Gino only chuckled, catching on quickly. She didn't need to tell him what she was thinking; he knew automatically, as if reading her mind. He pushed off the wall and led the way to the Black Knight, and Anya followed at a slower pace.

She'd missed this, too: knowing Gino had her back, always, knowing he could take one look at her face and decipher a newly conceived plan before she even had the chance to open her mouth.

"Tamaki," Gino called out. "What are your thoughts on all of this?"

Tamaki scowled at them as they drew near, but they stood in front of him undeterred, Gino grinning down at him as if he couldn't even see Tamaki's disapproval. "What do you care?" the Black Knight sneered.

Gino and Anya exchanged glances. "Well, we're all stuck here indefinitely, so we might as well make the best of it," Gino reasoned. "I'm sure we're all equally confused; we're not enemies here."

Of course, Gino and Anya were both aware Anya knew more than she was letting on, but Anya was grateful he wasn't mentioning it. With Gino acting like this, Anya could no longer remember why exactly she'd thought it would be a good idea to alienate him.

He was her friend first and foremost, after all.

Tamaki hesitated.

"Oh, come on," Gino coaxed, "this is new to all of us. Just a day ago we were all thinking Emperor Lelouch was irredeemably evil but now we're finding out he was Zero once, too."

Tamaki snorted. "I knew he was Zero," he boasted, conveniently forgetting to mention that all of the other Black Knights had known, too.

Gino looked impressed; Anya suppressed a laugh. "Even more reason to discuss what we've seen," he argued. "We all need to help each other here. We all just want to understand, after all."

Tamaki sighed impatiently. "There's nothing to discuss, alright?" he snapped irritably. "Hell, if I wanted to talk, I would have gone to one of the other Black Knights, not you two."

Anya arched a curious eyebrow. Because despite what his words were saying, his voice told her a completely different story. "What happened with the Black Knights?" she asked knowingly. "Why aren't you sitting with them?"

Tamaki's gaze soured instantly. "None of your goddamn business," he hissed.

"We're both here, aren't we?" Gino asked. "Empress Nunnally invited all of us to watch this. I think we all have a right to know what's going on."

"A right," Tamaki echoed with derision. "Fine. Nosy pests."

"So?" the Britannian knight prompted.

Tamaki sighed heavily, loudly, as if this whole situation was a huge burden, and finally said, "Well, I might as well tell someone, before I go crazy, too, I guess."

Gino's eyebrows skipped high up his forehead. "'Too'?" he asked in disbelief. "What do you mean, too?"

Tamaki's gaze swung around to aim at Ohgi and Villetta. "The rest of the Black Knights," he said in a low, hushed voice, leaning closer to Gino and Anya. "They're all going crazy, I'm telling you. Crazy!" He paused. "Or, maybe, they're already crazy! Who knows, with them?"

"Tamaki, I'm sure you're exaggerating," Gino laughed.

Tamaki's glare sharpened on him. "Crazy," he insisted. "In fact, everybody in this goddamn room is insane."

I certainly feel insane, Anya mused, though she didn't tell him that. "Why is that?" she asked.

"Ohgi made us betray him," Tamaki said bluntly. "He tricked us!" he exclaimed suddenly, only lowering his voice again when he noticed everyone else glancing curiously at them. "He claims Zero is the one who manipulated us, but in truth, he's the one who played us all."

"How do you make someone betray another person?" Gino wondered aloud.

"He told us Zero was Geassing us," Tamaki insisted. "He lied to us all to get us to hate Zero! Because of Ohgi, we all believed Zero was forcing us to follow him, but he wasn't. We betrayed Zero for nothing."

Anya said nothing. You betrayed him nonetheless, she thought privately, remembering the subdued silence that had befallen Lelouch whenever the Black Knights were brought up. They all played a hand in that, whatever the reasons. Maybe Tamaki was right, maybe Ohgi was at fault for instigating the betrayal, but every single one of the Black Knights' core members still chose to follow Ohgi and turn against Lelouch by themselves.

That was on them.

"We shouldn't have done it," Tamaki lamented. "We should have believed Zero. We should have had faith in him! He gave us so many victories, the Black Rebellion notwithstanding, but we doubted him still. I doubted him."

Anya's hands curled into fists. Listening to Tamaki, she couldn't help but question the staunch anger she'd been festering for the Black Knights ever since Lelouch had revealed what had happened on the Ikaruga that fateful day.

Because deep in Tamaki's voice, beyond the initial raw blame and the guilt, she could hear honest regret.

Tamaki deflated in his seat and thumped his head against the cushion, face twisting as though he'd tasted something bitter. "We were wrong." I was wrong.

"Todoh," Chiba leaned close to him, "what did you mean by 'be on your guard'?" Her eyebrows furrowed in contemplation, and then she fastened her gaze on him. "Do you think there are still people loyal to the demon, after everything he's done?"

"I have no doubt there are," Todoh replied simply, twisting around to meet her eyes. "At the very least, it's clear Jeremiah Gottwald still kneels before his memory. The Japanese maid, too, perhaps."

"The maid?" Chiba asked, taken aback.

Todoh nodded. "I'm not sure if that is all she is, but she certainly dresses like one. The way she moves, though…"

"She walks like a soldier," Chiba remarked, observing Sayoko as she followed Jeremiah elsewhere. Her eyes narrowed. "Where are they going?"

"No, not a soldier," Todoh corrected. "Her movements are more graceful and swift—quite like a dancer, but more… purposeful. Perhaps she belongs to one of Japan's old martial arts schools."

Chiba nodded, agreeing with his assessment.

"Watch them," Todoh advised. "I don't know what they're planning, but it's obvious that they are indeed planning something. Wherever they're going now…"

"I'll keep an eye out," Chiba confirmed.

"The former Knight of Six is not with them, though," another voice contributed, drifting over from near Todoh. Both Todoh and Chiba swung around quickly, aggressively, ready to pounce. They only relaxed when they saw who had spoken. "Do you think that is a mere coincidence?"

"If it's not a coincidence, then perhaps she is not involved," Todoh put in. "I rarely saw her at the Demon Emperor's side during his reign, after all. Jeremiah was always protecting him, and even the Japanese accompanied him occasionally, but as for Knight Alstreim… I don't remember her."

"What do you think, Xingke?" Chiba returned.

Xingke frowned. "She seems close to Gottwald and the maid, but as for being involved… I cannot say for certain."

"If she is involved…"

"We'll have to watch her closely as well," Xingke agreed. "At least until we are sure."

"Anyone else who seems at all suspicious to you?" Todoh asked.

Xingke didn't respond initially, looking around at everyone present with the same amount of scrutiny. After a tense, quiet moment, he suggested, "Perhaps one of the scientists."

Chiba blinked. "What makes you say that?"

"You're thinking of the Battle of Damocles," Todoh assumed before Xingke could respond to Chiba's question. When Xingke nodded, he turned to Chiba and elaborated, "During the Battle of Damocles, the Demon possessed many advanced Knightmares, most of which could not have been the doing of Rakshata, since she was loyal to us. Not to mention the Demon was able to nullify the effects of the F.L.E.I.J.A., a feat he couldn't have accomplished on his own."

Chiba nodded in understanding. "But which of the scientists?" she wondered. "Is it Lloyd Asplund, or his assistant…?"

"Perhaps it is both," Xingke guessed. "From what little we've seen of him, Lloyd Asplund seems just mad enough to follow a master like the Demon Emperor. And, like you said, the woman is his assistant; she would no sooner go against him than obey the Demon on her own."

"The woman seems mostly sane, though," Todoh pointed out. "I doubt she would pledge her loyalty to a man capable of massacring millions without batting an eye."

"She might not be aware Lloyd is loyal to the Demon," Chiba posed.

Xingke nodded slowly; though uncertain, he wasn't dismissing the idea right off the bat. "That might be possible," he allowed. "Anyone else we should watch out for?"

"No one else, yet," Todoh responded. "But we haven't been here long. Perhaps another loyal to the Demon will show their face soon, if we watch enough of these videos."

"In any case, we can't be too hasty with our conclusions," Xingke said. "We shouldn't make any moves until we're absolutely sure that we're correct. We'll have to see how Gottwald and the rest react to the rest of these videos first, and then we can either confirm or deny our suspicions."

"That's right," Todoh agreed. "And I must admit, I'm curious as to what these videos will bring us as well. Already so many truths I'd believed in have been proven wrong. I can only hope that the rest of the videos will answer my remaining questions as well."

Chiba nodded. "Lelouch kept us in the dark for so long," she said with loathing. "We won't be out of the loop for much longer."

"No," Xingke murmured, "we won't." He looked back at Tianzi again, huddled close to her friend Kaguya's side. Privately, he smiled at the scene, grateful that Kaguya was here to keep Tianzi company and comfort the Chinese empress where he could not. Outwardly, he maintained his solemn look, setting the two girls aside for a moment as he thought of the Demon Emperor.

We'll find out any secrets you're still keeping from us, Lelouch, he thought. I'll drive out of hiding anyone who still carries your banner, and in the end, I'll make sure they can bring Tianzi no harm. For her safety, I will go to any lengths.

"Tianzi…" Kaguya murmured, wishing she knew how to console the young empress. Her friend stared up at her with wide, trembling eyes and it took everything she had to keep from demanding the reason for those tears. But she knew that no matter how much she despised being patient, it was the best she could offer Tianzi right now. Forcing an answer out of Tianzi would only serve to bring up Tianzi's guard and make her wary.

It pained her to know that Tianzi could no longer afford to trust her blindly, even after they had been friends for so long, but at the same time she understood why it was necessary. Given the secrets the few episodes they'd watched had already revealed to them, Kaguya had no doubt that there was much more to the situation than met the eye. And if the contents of these disks had the power to overturn their lives…

Tianzi was right to be cautious. They had been lied to so many times already. Until Kaguya could be sure of who she could trust and what the reality was, she had to agree with the fear in Tianzi's eyes.

"I thought he was a monster," Tianzi burst out suddenly. Kaguya froze, the self-reprehension in Tianzi's voice chilling her blood. "This entire time… I've been satisfied following the views of the world and calling him a monster as everyone does. I shouldn't have—I shouldn't have pinned everything on him without investigating it myself. I should have asked."

"Tianzi, you—"

"I should have asked, Kaguya," she repeated, blinking. Tears spilled over her cheeks, but Tianzi paid them no heed, not even seeming aware of their presence. And the more she talked, the more she let herself be honest, the taller and stronger she looked—even despite the shame that colored her demeanor. "But I didn't. I believed the media even though by now, I know better than to do so."

"Do you think you were wrong?" Kaguya asked gently. "About… about him being a—monster?"

Tianzi sighed softly. "I don't know," she admitted, pulling at a loose thread of her ornamental dress. "But that's exactly the point, Kaguya. I don't know. I could be wrong, but until now I just didn't care, because everything seemed so black-and-white as the media portrayed it. Until now, all I've seen him as was, well, the Demon Emperor, heartless and ruthless and cruel and every other negative adjective the press sees it fit to describe him as."

Kaguya stayed silent. She knew that if she interrupted Tianzi now, Tianzi would only shut down, and the last thing Kaguya wanted was to let Tianzi think that she couldn't talk to Kaguya. So she did nothing but sit there by Tianzi's side, silently offering her support as Tianzi fought to voice her thoughts.

"Until now," Tianzi started again, inhaling loudly, "I never bothered to ask myself why. I never bothered to wonder if maybe there was a reason he became who he did."

Kaguya closed her eyes, trying to fight back the guilt that assaulted her. Tianzi was right, of course. She herself had never thought to wonder that question. And maybe she should have. Maybe she should have realized that something had to have happened to force the Lelouch vi Britannia she'd known as a little girl—a devoted brother first and foremost—to take up arms against innocent men and women.

Maybe she shouldn't have just accepted the most obvious answer.

"And now I'm realizing that I was so blind, so utterly naive, to accept the 'truth' I did. Because now I see that Emperor Lelouch wasn't the only monster." Tianzi swallowed thickly. "Kaguya, I just watched Clovis la Britannia order the senseless slaughter of countless Japanese, men and women and children alike, for the crime of existing. I just watched soldiers try to kill Lelouch—someone the soldiers believed was a simple schoolboy—for no other reason than that he was in the wrong place, at the wrong time."

"And I just watched so-called terrorists storm what was supposed to be a well-guarded palace and gun down an empress and a princess who must have been barely seven at the time. I just watched a man call his wife and daughter weak because they were the unfortunate victims of a crime. I just watched dozens of 'honorable' Britannians look down on a young girl for being paralyzed—something she could not control—when what they should be doing, is making sure that she's healing alright. I just watched a father exile his own children—still little kids, mind you—to the very same nation he intends to wage war against."

Hearing Tianzi put it in those terms, so plainly and simply, Kaguya couldn't even hope to fend off the horror that overwhelmed her. Because when she thought about it, when she really thought about it, well…

"After going through all of that," Tianzi whispered, "how could we even expect Lelouch to go on? How could he have done anything but retaliate?"

Kaguya honestly couldn't have said it better herself. There had never been any words spoken more truthfully than those—and it was a truth so profound that Kaguya felt the very foundations of her world crumbling beneath her.

Because, Kaguya realized, maybe the Demon Emperor's sins were their fault as much as they were Lelouch's. Maybe they were the reason the demon had been forced to arise from the ashes, instead of a phoenix. Maybe they left Lelouch feeling like he had no other choice.

Maybe, had she been in his shoes, she would have done the exact same thing. Maybe she would have been able to do nothing but hate the world for what it had done to her.

"You know, I can't blame him," Ohgi decided, speaking up for the first time since Tamaki's hushed ranting had interrupted them. He covered his wife's hand with his own, noticing that she looked worried. "I mean, do you?"

Villetta thought of cracking a joke, but she couldn't come up with any that wouldn't fall flat. So instead she just sighed and said, more honestly than she was comfortable with considering the situation, "I don't know, Ohgi. I just don't know."

Ohgi frowned. "Are we still talking about Tamaki?" he asked knowingly.

Villetta flinched. "Maybe," she said vaguely.

Ohgi sighed heavily, concerned by the clouded, faraway look in her eyes. "Come on, Villetta," he coaxed gently, wrapping one arm loosely around her shoulders and drawing her closer. "You know Tamaki has no idea what he's talking about. He's wrong, but that doesn't mean it's his fault. When we've all finished watching this disk, he'll realize that we've been right all along, you'll see."

"Will he?" Villetta murmured, her mind unwillingly flashing back to Rolo Haliburton, and everything that name entailed. Or are we the ones who are wrong? she wondered.

"Of course he will," Ohgi said vehemently, his teeth gnashing together furiously. He hated that this disk was making everyone doubt themselves—even his wife. Even him, if he was being honest with himself. But he couldn't think about that right now, not if he wanted to convince himself that they had been in the right to do what they had, that fateful day on the Ikaruga.

Villetta jerked upright, flinching minutely away from him at the harsh sound of his voice, and Ohgi's gaze softened immediately. The last thing he wanted to do was scare his own wife. "Villetta, you know we were right. He had the Geass on his side, and even… even if he hasn't used it yet, that doesn't mean that he won't."

Villetta nodded reluctantly through a gulp. Geass… she mulled over. That wretched power. It's brought us so many problems, and still we're not out of the woods. When everyone finds out about Charles, and I know they will… She grimaced, unashamed to admit that she was terrified of the inevitability. She was terrified to find out how they would all react, especially Ohgi.

"Villetta, please," Ohgi murmured. "You have to trust me. Lelouch was evil through and through. The fact that he was justified in his earlier actions as Zero doesn't change the fact that he became the Demon Emperor and betrayed everyone's faith in him. We all believed him, and he played us all for fools. That hasn't changed, and it won't change."

"I want to believe you, Ohgi, I really do, but…" But you don't know the whole story, she finished silently to herself, conflicted. But Lelouch wasn't the only one who betrayed the world. There are more sides to this story than you know, Ohgi, and I fear what you will think—of the situation, and of me—when you are exposed to the entire truth.

"But nothing," Ohgi said fiercely. "Villetta, you know all this worrying isn't good for the baby." He spared her a fond, doting smile and moved his hand from hers to her stomach. It still amazed him to think that a child was growing in her body—that their child was.

Villetta forced out a chuckle. "I know," she assured him. But she wouldn't admit to him that still couldn't help worrying.

"Good," he smiled again, easing up slightly. "Really, Villetta, you don't have to worry. No matter what happens, it's me and you against the world. We'll always have each other to count on."

Villetta blinked rapidly, trying desperately to keep her tears at bay. I wonder whether you'll change your mind when you realize I've been lying even to you. When you realize that perhaps, Lelouch wasn't entirely at fault for Britannia descending into chaos. Because the truth is, Ohgi, Britannia embarked on its path into destruction long before Lelouch took the throne.

"Hey, don't cry," Ohgi whispered adoringly. "You know I love you."

Villetta inhaled sharply. "I know," she managed to say, weakly. She paused, trying to gather her composure, before she made herself joke, "I'm not—crying. It's just hormones." Her voice wobbled shakily, like a toddler trying to walk for the first time, but she was grateful when Ohgi didn't comment on it.

Instead, Ohgi only smiled softly down at her and coaxed her head onto his shoulder. She let him soothe her, relaxing into the warmth of his presence, and the undeniable comfort it brought her, even now. Maybe he's right, she thought hopefully. Maybe it won't matter. After all, he loves me, I know that, so maybe…

She snuck a nervous glance at him out of her peripheral vision. Maybe I should just tell him. He deserves to know the truth, after all—about everything. About Emperor Charles and his Geass, about what I did as part of the OSI in keeping Lelouch under surveillance, about the risks we all took and about who Rolo really was. All of it.

"Just let me hold you," Ohgi murmured into her ear, and the world snapped back into focus. She became aware of the tension that had returned anew to her bones, and of the way she had stiffened and pulled away from Ohgi, even if only by an inch. "You don't have to be strong all the time, you know. I'm here. I'll always be here."

Villetta exhaled slowly, the breath escaping her lungs through a shudder. The words I'll always be here played in her mind over and over again, like a broken record. And right now, as he pulled her tight towards his chest, she believed him.

She still wasn't sure what would be the right move, at this point—although the logical part of her mind knew what she needed to do, especially since this disk seemed to be headed towards complete exposure of the truth either way—but for the moment, she could let herself enjoy Ohgi's arms around her, feeling like home.

For the moment, she could forget her worries and concentrate on the present. Forget Lelouch vi Britannia, and remember them, her and Ohgi.

"Call her cell," Sayoko urged as soon as they were sure they were out of earshot of everyone else. She was only vaguely aware of Anya's absence from their side, but figured that Anya had the right to do whatever she wanted and mingle with whomever she desired for as long as they were here. It wasn't as if it would harm them, after all—Sayoko had no doubt that Anya, careless as she could be sometimes, would never risk the peace they'd all fought for and reveal the truth before they were forced to.

"We don't have much time," Sayoko cautioned, glancing around herself fleetingly to ascertain that they were still alone. "I doubt Lady Nunnally will allow this break to go on for longer than absolutely necessary. She's as desperate as the rest of them to find out His Majesty's secrets, after all."

Jeremiah nodded in agreement. "We just have to hope that she isn't currently out and about playing to her own schedule," he muttered. "Or that she at least brought the phone His Majesty gifted her."

Sayoko sighed at the thought, but stayed silent as Jeremiah dug out his phone from inside his pocket. She watched him go through the motions of unlocking the device and pulling up C.C.'s contact.

He pressed the command to call her number, and she bit her lip anxiously, her foot subconsciously beginning to tap the floor impatiently.

Still hidden from the rest of the audience in the shadows, C.C. smirked as she watched the civilians and royals alike argue amongst themselves over the most recent revelations. From her vantage point, she could see everyone clearly, and common between them all was the desperate suspicion on each and every face.

She stifled a laugh and scanned the audience, passing by the Ashford students, the Black Knights, the Chinese Federation representatives, members of the former Knights of the Round, the Second Princess and her knight, the empress herself, Zero, and…

Wait, she paused and frowned pensively. Where are Gottwald and Shinozaki?

As if in response to her thoughts, her phone began to buzz quietly in her bag. She jolted in surprise at the sudden interruption, and craned her neck around to eye the leather bag curiously. She knew, of course, that there was really only three people in the world who knew her number and thus could contact her via her phone: Sayoko, Jeremiah, and Anya.

And considering the convenient absences of Sayoko and Jeremiah both, while Anya seemed to be conversing with her former comrade, C.C. could guess who had called her.

She pondered picking up for a moment, before she ultimately decided against it. They were still unaware that she had been the one behind Nunnally's possession of the two disks, and she wanted to keep it that way for as long as she could.

They wouldn't understand. Because C.C. knew that even though she was sure they shared her frustrations of how the world viewed Lelouch nowadays, she also knew that they were loyal to Lelouch's every command. They obeyed his orders to the letter, and his last order had been to fulfil the Zero Requiem.

She was loyal to his memory. To his legacy, and to his person. And even if they believed they were doing what was best for everyone involved, she would do anything to give Lelouch the recognition and respect he deserved. Especially from those he'd genuinely cared about.

Without wasting another second, C.C. reached into her bag and declined the call, her jaw set.

Jeremiah and Sayoko both blinked in surprise and frowned when the call was rejected. Sayoko's gaze darkened immediately. "Call her again," she snapped, glaring at the phone as though it had personally offended her.

Jeremiah winced at the harsh look on her face, and quickly did as she asked.

This time, they were more on edge as the phone reached out to C.C., Sayoko's eye twitching with every second that passed without a response. Jeremiah clucked his tongue, beginning to grow irritated himself.

"What the hell is taking her so long?" Sayoko grumbled to no one in particular, crossing her arms over her chest. Her scowl was unmoving. "I swear, that witch does nothing but eat pizza all day long," she groused, exhaling an annoyed huff through her nose.

Jeremiah nodded. "I'm more concerned about why—"

Buzz… buzz… buzz…

He straightened immediately, his eyes narrowing as he angled his head towards the south corner of the auditorium. His mind, enhanced by the Geass Directorate's modifications, began to race as he listened to the nearly inaudible vibrations originating from across the room.

"Jeremiah?" Sayoko prompted when he still hadn't resumed speaking after a few seconds. She was frowning in confusion. "What's going on?"

The metal patch covering his left eye tingled as if moved by the winds itself. His eyes narrowed further as he tried to concentrate as best he could on that faint sound.

Buzz…

His eyes snapped wide open abruptly. Those vibrations he could hear matched those coming from his own phone exactly. Which could only mean—

"She's here," he murmured, blinking.

Sayoko's jaw dropped. "Here?" she echoed incredulously. "In the auditorium?"

"In the auditorium," he confirmed, pursing his lips. "I can hear another phone vibrating in sync with this one." He waved the gadget in his hands for emphasis.

She stared at him as if he'd grown two heads. "I don't hear anything."

He rolled his eyes in exasperation and gestured quickly to his one robotic eye, and then to the rest of himself. "Bartley replaced many of my limbs, but he also enhanced my existing senses. My hearing is comparable to that of a bat's; my sense of smell can hold a candle to a dog's; and my sight is as good as an eagle's in daylight and an owl's during nighttime. He amplified my sense of touch as well. The only one of my six senses he failed to improve was my sense of taste," he explained.

"The perfect supersoldier," Sayoko murmured in awe, realizing perhaps for the first time the full extent of his capabilities as a man modified with robotic functions. She had always know, of course, that Bartley had irreversibly changed him, but she'd never really taken the time to dwell on what that truly meant.

He quirked a bemused eyebrow. "Yes, I suppose so," he agreed warily.

Sayoko blinked at the sound of his voice. She flushed immediately as she realized that she'd gotten distracted, and she quickly shook her head to rid her of her thought process. "Never mind that," she said. "Where is she?"

He paused, closed his eyes, and focused only on what he could hear. A few seconds later, he groaned, looked down at his phone, and noted that she'd rejected his second call. He heaved a sigh and rang her phone once more. He quickly turned off the vibrations for his phone and searched out the noise again.

Buzz… buzz…

He opened his eyes again and grinned a shark-like grin at Sayoko. "Got her," he announced, stuffing his phone back in his pocket just as C.C. ended the call. Sayoko followed him wordlessly as he turned and led the way towards another corner of the auditorium.

When they reached the corner, they found no one there and frowned. It was only Jeremiah, remembering one of his fellow soldiers' story about cornering a Zero who avoided Cornelia's men by performing a backwards swan dive off the broken roof of a rundown building, who thought to look up. He spotted her sprawled lazily across one of the thick beams running across the ceiling.

He scowled and nudged Sayoko, gesturing at C.C. with a toss of his head. Sayoko followed the direction of her gaze and groaned immediately. "Unbelievable," she sighed. She cupped her hands over her mouth and called out, only loud enough for them to hear, "Hey! C.C.! Come down here!"

C.C.'s head raised immediately in response to her call. She peered down at them curiously, and almost immediately a look of irritation crossed her face. She eventually did sit up and leapt off the beam, but even though her movements carried the grace of a gymnast, it was clear that she was doing so reluctantly. "How did you two find me?" she demanded.

Sayoko smirked and pointed at Jeremiah. "You forgot about his enhanced senses, didn't you?" she mocked, conveniently forgetting that she hadn't known either before he'd told her. Jeremiah rolled his eyes but didn't point out her hypocritical logic.

C.C. cast Jeremiah a shrewd look and sighed loudly. "Fine, so you found me. What do you want?"

Sayoko frowned. "To talk," she said, annoyed by C.C.'s brusqueness. "Aren't you at all concerned about the potential repercussions of these… movies?"

C.C. snorted mirthlessly. Perhaps I would be if I didn't know that I was the one to give Nunnally these very 'movies', she thought to herself. "Are you?"

"Of course!" Sayoko looked exasperated. "This could render Master Lelouch's sacrifice useless!"

"He gave his life for a reason," Jeremiah added. "If this reveals the secrets behind Zero Requiem… we could lose everything."

"At least Nunnally isn't showing this to everyone in the world," C.C. pointed out. "I doubt the people here will ruin what Lelouch has cultivated."

Sayoko narrowed her eyes. "Why are you defending these videos?" she asked archly, astutely.

C.C. said nothing.

"Fine, don't answer me if you don't want to," she said, frustrated. "But there is something we wanted to ask you."

C.C. hummed noncommittally, prompting them to go on. She wouldn't let either of them ruin this for her, but if they needed her help for something else, she was willing to listen.

"My Geass Canceller," Jeremiah announced. "We were wondering if I should free Miss Ashford and Mr. Cardemonde of Charles' control."

C.C. looked amused. "And you're coming to me because…?"

Sayoko glared at her. "Master Lelouch trusted you." The words Prove to us that he wasn't wrong to do so went unsaid, but they all heard it anyway, and C.C.'s expression closed off, going cold.

"Well, if you want my advice…"

"We want Emperor Lelouch's advice," Jeremiah corrected, "but he's gone now, and I suppose that as his closest confidant, you're second best."

"So don't tell us what you'd do," Sayoko clarified. "What do you think Lelouch would have wanted us to do, if he knew what was happening?"

C.C. looked thoughtful for a moment as she considered their problem. But it was only for a moment, because the next moment, the uncertainty vanished completely from her eyes and she nodded absentmindedly, as if to herself.

Finally, with a small, vague smirk, she began, "Here's what I think you should do…"

Please feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think! I had such a blast writing most of these characters, especially Anya. I know that the flashbacks shouldn't technically exist in this story since it's supposed to be as close to canon as possible, but honestly, a lot of the characters aren't elaborated on, so I decided to take the liberty to create more detailed stories for those characters.

As you've probably realised, the break isn't actually over yet, since the Jeremiah's Geass Canceller issue hasn't really been resolved yet. But, like I said, after I rewrote most of the scenes, this became a lot longer than it was at the beginning, so I decided to split it here, since I haven't yet finished rewriting the rest of the break. I was going to keep everything together, but I wasn't sure how long I'd take and I've already kept you all waiting for so long, and I figured you all deserve this. To save time, I also haven't really gone over it again to proofread this, so please have mercy and forgive any mistakes I might have made.

Well, that's it for now. 'Til next time!