Chapter Text
Nunnally vi Britannia, once 86th in line for the imperial throne, strode down the halls of Ashford Academy, her legs carrying her quickly along to large front doors of the school. School was out, it was Friday, and her motorcycle and friend waited outside. She opened the imposing wooden doors, the afternoon wind wooshing as she stepped, and spotted her friend’s purple hair almost instantly. Sophie Wood leaned against the passenger’s sidecar, looking out at the Tokyo settlement, and turned as Nunnally ran up to her.
“Took you long enough!” Sophie admonished her.
“Well I’m not on the swim team so I guess you'll just have to make do then” Nunnally replied, smiling at her friend. “Ready to go?”
“I was born ready Nunnally!” Sophie jumped into the sidecar, and buckled the seatbelt.
Nunnally took more time getting onto the motorcycle, swinging her leg over the seat and taking the helmet from where it hung on the steering bars.
She turned the ignition, and hearing her bike rumble to life, revved the engine. It felt good to be back here, in the seat of her prized possession. She turned the handle, and the bike leapt forward, the wind whipping against her clothes.
“So how was the week?” Sophie asked.
“Absolute hell, the history teacher dropped a surprise essay on the roman invasion and its effects on Britannia. And then Nina blew up one of the science stations and caused the entire wing to be evacuated.”
“Oh yeah, I remember that. Oh man that was funny, watching all those teachers and students milling around with no one knowing what to do.” Sophie laughed.
“You wouldn't be laughing if your lab station was next to Nina’s” Nunnally responded.
“No way! What happened?”
“Nina decided to do some of her own… experiments in class. And I use that word very lightly.”
“So what did the teacher think?”
“You would think she would be pissed, but I could see that she could not contain her mirth as she had us leave the lab, and as she chewed out Nina for whatever reaction she caused.”
“Oh man I wish my science teacher was like that, mine is so strict I swear he would yell at us if we did the experiment correctly.”
“Do you ever do the experiments correctly?”
“Well, no but-”
“Then that's your problem.”
Sophie harrumphed and turned her head, looking out into the settlement again. Nunnally looked into the horizon, broken up by the large buildings of the settlement. A Britannian flag flew above a residential building in the distance. Nunnally’s hand clenched around the handle. She hated that flag. She hated it and all it stood for. Because it stood for the people who killed her mother. Who blinded and crippled her brother. Who sent them to japan to live with the prime minister as political tools, then invaded the country, dooming her and her sweet, innocent brother to death. Her brother who had loved chess, a game she had discounted when she was young, but in the years since the invasion, she had learned from her brother. Partly as a way to comfort the blind wheelchair-bound boy, partly to pass the endless time that would otherwise be filled with seething rage at what her once beloved homeland had done. Her hand clenched the handle with renewed fervor, her knuckles turning whiter with the force. But that rage, no matter how righteous or deserved, could not be allowed outside of her mind, less she found her sanctuary in Ashford Academy broken by one simple mistake. So she played chess, finding its greatest use for her - a way to ignore the pain. She always had a game playing in her head, planning movements, looking far into what her opponent, herself, would do. In chess she found solace, its infinite choices letting her play it forever. Her hand loosened.
And then a loud noise came from behind her! She snapped around, the game forgotten as a massive truck barreled down on her from behind! She swerved, trying to get out of its way, and it seemed that the truck had the same idea, as it moved as if to go around her, and then it left through an exit, its momentum leading it to slam into the building at the back of the open area it had turned into. Nunnally stopped the bike, staring in horror at the top hatch of the struck, forced open by the collision.
“Is this our fault?" Sophie’s words echoed Nunnally’s own thoughts.
A crowd was forming on a walkway above the crash, phones out, recording the crash, but no one moved to help the driver, and Nunnally felt that familiar rage build again, watching her country's people do nothing to help.
“Sophie! I’m going to help!” Nunnally called out, even as she pulled the helmet from her head, dropped it onto the seat, and took off onto the off ramp. Any response Sophie gave was lost in the wind that was stirred up by her fast movement.
It took only a short time to reach the truck, and Nunnally pulled herself to a stop, calling out “Are you okay? That crash looked-”
And then she saw it - a green shape that looked rather like a human, at the top of the truck, incomprehensible murmurings filling her ears, speaking words she could not make out, words that very well may have been gibberish. And then it ended all at once, leaving her standing there stupidly staring at the top of the access ladder attached to the truck’s side, wondering why her mind would play such tricks on her.
“Hold on, I'm coming to help!” she called out, climbing the ladder, but just as she reached the top, the truck reversed! Sending her sprawling onto the metal floor of the truck. She groaned, pulling herself to her feet, even as the floor rumbled with the truck’s movement. The interior of the truck was filled by the large shape of some… thing. And a tarp covered shape further back.
“(You idiot Nagata! Now you've given the military time to catch up!)” A feminine voice swore in Japanese in the driver’s compartment.
In Japanese? Oh fuck no! She was in a truck driven by-
“To all my Imperial subjects! Including of course the many righteous elevens who nobly serve our great Empire!” An all too familiar voice called from the front, distorted through a radio.
“(We’re not elevens! We’re Japanese!)” The feminine voice growled.
“The battle we fight here in area 11 is a hard and tough one! But we must never give in! Never surrender! Our unstoppable pursuit of the future will be tested, but can never be abandoned! Eight noble souls died today at the hands of terrorists! But their memory lives on in our hearts! Now please, give a moment of silence to honor our dead! And know that THEY WILL BE AVENGED!!!” Nunnally knew what attack her brother was referring to - the death toll was over sixty, but only eight of those were Britannians, the rest were elevens, and the government would not honor elevens, no matter what happened to them.
“(Damn Britannians! Will they ignore the deaths of our people so openly?)” A masculine voice from the front of the truck spat in Japanese.
“(What do you expect Nagata? For prince Clovis to openly mourn elevens in a broadcast?)” The feminine voice retorted.
“(Even if those… elevens had been working for the Britannians? The least they could do would be to honor the traitors to us all!)”
“(You expect honor from the Britannians. That is too much to expect from them.)” The feminine voice sounded tired.
The truck hit a bump, sending Nunnally sprawling off her feet and onto the cold metal floor, bruising her already bruised back. She grunted in pain, even as the truck started jerking from side to side.
“Stop the vehicle and surrender and you will be given the chance to be tried in court! Surrender now or we open fire!” A loudspeader-enhanced voice boomed from behind the truck.
“(That's the army! Oh we’re so screwed!)” The masculine voice, presumably Nagata, yelled in Japanese.
“(You forget Nagata! That's why I'm here.)” The feminine voice cried, her voice filled with pride.
The sound of cannon rounds hitting pavement roared from behind the truck.
“Surrender or Die!”
Nunnally quickly moved behind the large thing as the door to the trailer hissed open.
“(Try to enter the subway via the Azabu route! I’ll hold them off!)” A girl with red hair in a white lab-looking coat walked towards the back of the trailer.
“(Why not use it here?)”
“(Because that would cause a bloodbath!)” The girl yelled, swinging off her white coat, revealing a tight fitting jumpsuit underneath.
She grabbed the tarp and pulled, revealing… a Knightmare frame. Its chair was extended, allowing the girl to quickly get into the chair and start the bootup sequence. Nunnally had seen the girl before. She hadn't realized she had until she saw the girl from behind as she climbed up into the seat. But she had seen her before, somewhere. The chair closed into the cockpit, the pilot’s hatch closing behind her. Nunnally saw the great metal beast shutter to life as the internal diagnostic ran, testing every part of the mech. The rear door opened, and the Knightmare leapt out, driven by its landspinners. It was an old Glasgow, she saw, as it fired a slash harken at one of the gunships following the truck, igniting its fuel tank. But even as the back doors closed, Nunnally saw a Knightmare carrier carrying a Sutherland approaching, and knew the girl in her Glasgow would stand no chance.
She heard gunfire from the Sutherland’s autocannon as it accelerated 30mm AP rounds past the speech of sound with its electrified sakuradite rails, then the sound of metal-on-metal. She assumed the girl and her Knightmare were destroyed. Then the sound of a Knightmare’s machine gun, spitting 7.62mm shells out faster than the best infantry machine guns could manage. The truck swerved, a line of bullet holes appeared above her as the truck sped past the Knightmare firing on it. Nunnally crouched low next to the mass in the back of the truck, attempting to make herself as small as possible in case the Knightmare opened fire again. But it would not.
For the next several minutes, Nunnally waited for something to happen. But all that awaited her was the bumpy ride of the truck driving on poor roadways. Which meant that they were in the subways like the girl had said. They were heading to a nearby ghetto. This was clear from the poor roads, and the fact that they were taking the subways. Abandoned since the invasion. She looked around, taking stock of the situation. She had her phone, her keys, her wallet… and her metal butterfly knife trainer. She slipped it out of her pocket, knowing that it would be all but useless compared to her steel, razor-sharp one she kept in her room. But it was something, and anything would be better than being stuck in the ghetto with nothing to arm herself with. She looked around, and saw the lab-looking coat the girl had dropped. It had a communicator in one of its pockets. Well that was something, maybe she could use it to bargain with the military - no. too risky, they may discover her true identity. Once again she cursed herself for choosing Lamperouge, her mother’s maiden name, as her cover last name. It would not hold up if the military took her and tried to identify her. Well, at least the communicator would allow her to be aware of the terrorist’s movements, and possibly give her a heads up on possible danger zones. She opened her cell phone, but there was no service, so she slipped it back into her pocket.
Suddenly, the truck jerked horribly! She was thrown to the floor, hitting her head on the metal. Groaning, she managed to get herself to a kneeling position just in time for the side doors to open. The truck was no longer moving. She carefully looked out the open doorway, just in time for a Britannian soldier to hit her with a spinning side kick!
She fell to the ground again, and before she could react, the soldier grabbed her top, as his gas mask dropped from his face. “You monster! Planning to use poison gas!” She snapped her butterfly trainer and swung the dull blade at the soldier, making him jump back.
“If it was poison gas, then it was made by Britannia, no? Either way, I'm not one of them.” Nunnally knew the soldier wouldn't believe her, but it was worth a try.
“Thats enough out of you!” The soldier said, even as she rose to her feet.
“Oh my god…” The soldier said, his voice filled with disbelief.
“I’m the monster? I’m not the one that murders-” Nunnally was cut off.
“Nunnally?” The soldier removed his helmet, revealing the face of someone she thought had died long ago.
“Suzaku? When did you become a Britannian soldier?” Nunnally’s disbelieving voice was tinged with anger. Anger at her friend, who had survived the invasion with her, who had been witness to her most sacred oath. Suzaku was the son of the Japanese prime minister, the only child she could interact with after she and her brother had been exiled to Japan, before the invasion. They had walked the countryside, seeing whole villages slaughtered and put to the torch, the bodies piled where they had fallen, to be picked apart by scavengers. That Suzaku could join the… the evil that was Britannia made no sense to her. His father had died because of them!
Suddenly, the object in the truck opened, and Suzaku rushed forward, pressing the gas mask attached to his helmet to her face, to save her from what was to come. But no gas came. Instead, the bulb opened, revealing a woman in a straight jacket and long green hair. The two of them rose to their feet, and Nunnally walked slowly forward, crouching next to the woman. She checked her pulse, confirming that her heart was beating, and carried her to the ground right outside of the truck. “Tell me the truth Suzaku, this isn't poison gas.”
“I don't know, that's all they said in the mission briefing.” Suzaku unzipped her arms as Nunnally unzipped her legs, and removed her gag. Then a light fell upon them, as a squad of royal guardsmen, led by an officer, walked into the subway tunnel. “Filthy mongrel! Consorting with terrorists? I ought to execute you myself! However, you have completed your mission, so I will give you a chance at redemption private Kururugi! Execute the terrorist, and this will be over-looked.” The officer barked.
“Shes not a terrorist!” Suzaku protested.
“Why you insubordinate little monkey! Spurning the great compassion of our empire.” The officer shook his head. “You swore an oath to our homeland! Do your duty!"
“I cannot. I will not execute a civilian!” Suzaku protested, turning to face Nunnally.
“Very well.” The officer pointed the pistol he once held out to Suzaku at an unarmored part of his back, and fired.
“Suzaku!” Nunnally screamed, as he fell motionless to the ground.
“Well then schoolgirl, I'm impressed you made it this far, but I suppose it makes sense, you being a Britannian. Though why you would betray your country, your homeland is beyond me. Collect the woman, kill the girl.” He motioned the royal guardsmen forward. The truck’s cab exploded. The soldiers were thrown back, even as the trailer shielded Nunnally and the green haired woman from the blast. She hauled the woman to her feet and, grabbing her arm, ran.
Nunnally leaned against the wall of the subway, panting. The green haired woman watched her, not even breathing hard. “Why… Why is this happening? They killed Suzaku, they were going to kill me… who are you!!” Nunnally cried.
The woman made no attempt to respond. An explosion rocked the distance, bringing dust raining down from the ceiling. Then another and another and another, and the sound of machine gun fire echoed from far away. “They're destroying the ghetto! How are you so important to them that they would destroy a ghetto?” Nunnally was shocked, finally realizing that the Britannians would stop at literally nothing to capture this woman. “What have I gotten into?”
The woman did not respond. Nunnally started running again, and within 30 seconds, came to a stairway. The sounds of automatic fire could be heard from up the stairs, along with the cries of the wounded, that slowly faded as the gunfire continued. Nunnally crept up the stairs, glancing over the top of the stairway to see a pile of corpses, and the royal guardsmen from before.
“Hmm, this is where the map said that way came out, but there's only elevens here.” As the officer spoke, Nunnally spotted the small legs of a child, laying still under the corpse of an adult. “You two! Stay here and-” her phone rang. Nunnally quickly clicked it off, but it was too late.
The soldiers dragged her and the woman out, put the woman on the other side of the room, and leveled their guns at her. “Any last words, schoolgirl?” The officer said, and after she said nothing, raised his pistol. “And a traitor meets their end.”
The woman, acting with surprising speed, threw herself in front of Nunnally and cried “She must not die!” even as the officer’s pistol discharged into her head. Nunnally knelt, almost touching the woman's hand even as the officer spoke. “We were supposed to take her alive if possible, but no changing it now, we can just say she was killed by the terrorist.”
‘And there it goes, my life, gone, before I could do anything with it. I survived so much, but here it ends. I'm sorry Lelouch, sorry you must be alone’ The woman’s hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. ‘But you do not wish it to end here, do you? I propose a contract, in exchange for making my one wish true, I will grant you a life like no other, the power of the king will shape your life into something new, but it is not a power to be taken lightly, the power of the king will isolate you, as no one can come close to what you will be able to do. Do you accept this contract?’ The woman’s voice spoke in her head, clear, despite the sounds of battle around her. ‘I accept’ her left eye itched, so she placed her right palm over it.
“Why do you wait? I have nothing to stop you with, or have you realized?” She took her palm away from her eye. “Death comes for us all, and killing only makes death want you more!” The soldiers could not move, their arms shook with effort as they tried to level their pistols to fire. “Nunnally vi Britannia orders you to obey! DIE!!!”
“As you wish your highness!" and as one, the soldiers shot themselves in the head.