Indomitable

Kept ya waiting huh?

Chapter 4: Light in the Dark

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Pendragon Royal Hospital; 2010 ATB

The last two weeks had begun to wear on Lelouch's nerves more by the day. Stuck in the single hospital room with a broken arm and mild head trauma left him restless and he was refused freedom from this sterile hell. The company he was kept by his sisters quickly lost their novelty as the younger girls droned on about trivial things that only served to drive him further into insanity. Immediately after the events that took place on that battlefield his mind rapidly opened so many possibilities that he wanted to try. Now more than ever he was desperate to continue on his journey, and was constantly denied that opportunity.

"And Emma just keeps going on and on about it, nothing I say can change her mind." He honestly had no idea who this Emma Euphy was babbling on about for the past fifteen minutes. He gathered from the parts he couldn't ignore that she was some noble friend the young girl had some argument about over a pointless frivolity. He really couldn't believe that he indulged in such mindless conversations in the past at all. He never really cared for them to begin with but back then there was hardly anything more pressing. Only a year ago he was much more carefree.

"Lelouch are you even listening?" He was drawn from his thoughts to see the young girl glaring expectantly at him. Sighing irritably, he shook his head. "What do you want me to say Euphy? Sounds like you should either let it go or stand your ground, and really that's up to you to decide."

"Well...yeah, but…" She frowned, fidgeting with her hands. "You used to always…"

Yes, he used to always mediate between Euphy and Nunnally, and on occasion other less mentionable half siblings, though with their arguments were often more biased. The prince was smart, or perhaps simply composed enough to present a more reasonable solution to problems he was presented with. Those worries seemed so trivial now, hardly worth his time as his journey took him to far greater plains.

He sighed, knowing she only meant well. "You're far too kind Euphy. It wouldn't hurt to stand by what you believe to be right." He told her. "If anything I doubt you could ever go wrong."

"But, I just…" she faltered.

"See, even now you relent your opinion. You just sounded so adamant in what you believe, so stick by that." Lelouch encouraged the princess.

He was satisfied when the girl's face lit up as she nodded eagerly. "Yeah, you're right. Thank you!"

Much to his dismay however, she chose to crush him in hug of impossible strength.

"My princess, it is nearly time for your afternoon lessons." Oh thank God. A handmaiden, messenger of the heavens sent to deliver him, poked her head through the door.

Finally releasing him from her clutches, Euphy made an apologetic face. "I'm sorry Lulu, but if I'm late mother will be upset."

Lelouch shook his head a little too eagerly. "Don't worry about it, I'll be fine." He insisted. "Best not to keep them waiting."

"I'll be back tomorrow so don't go anywhere!" The girl said teasingly, as she made to leave the room.

"Brother I-oh Euphy!" Just as he was to be granted solace one pesterance was exchanged for another without a moment's respite.

"Sorry Nunna I was just on my way out, but I'll see you tomorrow too." The older princess exchanged a quick greeting before waving off to Lelouch. "Bye now!"

Sighing discreetly, he turned what remained of his diminished attention to his younger sister. "What's up Nunnally, did you want something?"

With a triumphant smirk, the young girl made her declaration. "I've made my decision! I'm going to be a knightmare pilot."

"Absolutely not." He replied without missing a beat.

Nunnally's proud expression quickly fell into a frown at so swiftly being denied. "What do you mean 'absolutely not?!'" She demanded. "You decided on your own to become a soldier without talking to me about it at all, so you don't get to say what I can or can't do!"

"I'm not a soldier Nunnally, an officer. I intend to become a general not a pilot. The dangers are far greater to a pilot in a knightmare." Lelouch explained.

"Brother, you're in a Hospital!" She exasperated. "I...I don't want to sit around waiting for you to come back doing nothing while you're off avenging mom. Wondering if you even will come back. It's not fair, Lelouch, you know I loved mom too."

"That's not what this is about, and I'm not saying anything like that Nunnally. But becoming a soldier, a pilot on the frontlines… it's just not worth that risk." He tried to convince his sister.

"Then what else am I supposed to do?!" She shouted. "I want to protect you too, I don't want to lose you." Her anger faded as she fell silent, tears giving way as the girl succumbed to emotion.

The young princess looked down at her hands, her eyes becoming distant. "I tried the simulators you know, I did really well. It made me want to know, what mom felt when she was piloting a knightmare. But more than that…" she suddenly burst into a hysterical outcry. "I really wish she was here to teach me herself!"

Unable to meet her pained eyes, Lelouch turned his head away. He too desperately wished to learn from their mother. To be raised in the safety of their home as their lives were meant to be. But that was an impossible dream, nothing more than fantasy. He had to face the reality they were left with, but even so, there were some things that he could still avoid. And like hell was he sending his little sister into a battlefield.

"I don't care what you try to do Lelouch, you won't stop me! I'm going to be a pilot like mom whether you like it or not!" Without allowing him a chance to react, the princess abruptly turned around, storming out of the room in a fit of defiance.

Left with a sudden silence, Lelouch gave a frustrated sigh. Between understanding her own feelings and desires and following his own there was clearly a compromise that had to be made here. He didn't even want to entertain the thought of allowing Nunnally to fight battles for him, even if he was the only one who would command her. Never would he consider placing his sister's life in the hands of another general no matter how accomplished-hell even Cornelia as much as he trusted her. But even so he was terrified of the thought of his own mistake leading to her death. The most skilled, tenacious of soldier's lives still depended on the orders they were given by their commanders. If Nunnally were to become an ace pilot he would have to become an even greater strategist. Undefeatable, unmatched in wit and guile. He would have to guide her as an angel of death across the battlefields of the world itself, utterly crushing everyone before him without flaw.

Letting out a slow breath, he slid out of the hospital bed, waving off Jeremiah who immediately moved to aid him. "I'm going out for a little walk, get some more textbooks for me will you?"

Not a moment could be wasted, if he was to grant his sister's desire. The only option, the only way, was to become Indomitable.

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Kururugi Shrine; 2010 ATB

Looking upon the charred husk of what was once his home left him with a mix of varied emotions. Grief, anguish, remorse, and above all anger. Hatred, rage, fury, there were many words to express it. He hadn't ever thought of so many ways to describe something before now. But what was one to feel when their life in its entirety was gone in the blink of an eye? He was left with nothing but an unbearable burden to carry upon his shoulders. His inheritance only the despair of his people. The parting words of his father rang out in his mind louder than ever as he gazed upon the rubble.

"You will be the one who reclaims Japan."

Though his life had effectively ended, Suzaku kururugi had yet to die. He lived for one sole purpose, everything that remained of the smoldering embers burned brightly as the phoenix rose from the ashes.

As he once was burned away along with his past, dying the same night the world was set ablaze. This body that was left behind would carry inside it the inferno of vengeance, for as long as it took. He would free his people, he would reclaim his nation. Whatever it took, whatever he had to set aflame to get it. If the whole world burned away only then would this injustice be repaid. He would have recompense, one way or another.

"Hey, Suzaku, we better get going." He felt a hand upon his shoulder, and he turned to meet the apologetic expression of his companion. "I know how you must feel, but it's too dangerous to hang around here any longer."

His eyes flickered once more to the ashes, before his turned his back on his past self. "You're right. Let's go, Naoto"

He followed the older redhead who had saved his life in the midst of the chaos of the invasion. Leaving behind the boy he used to be, buried in the rubble.

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The imperial capital was a mind-blowing sight if anything. There were a handful of occasions in which Kallen had visited their familial estates back east in New York, to which she admitted Britannian engineering outclassed anything else she'd ever witnessed. Yet Pendragon was in an entirely different league. From the window outside her father's hospital room, there seemed to be no end to the megastructure's towering skyscrapers protruding from the vast interconnected sublevels that went on dozens of floors beneath the surface of the city. What was more unbelievable however, was the endless desert that stretched on just beyond the city, further adding to the miraculous feat the capital proved to be.

Kallen fell back into her seat placed in a lounge in the corner of the wing her father was in. She watched nurses carting around supplies to people down indistinguishable hallways she didn't da re wander. The Royal Hospital was an immaculately maintained labyrinth bigger than any (possibly every combined) hospital found in Ja-Area Eleven. The name that place was once called slipped frequently despite her efforts to remove any ties she might have had before that day. But they were here, only half a family left because of that place. those people Kallen once called friends and countrymen. The injuries her father sustained were neglected treatment due to his own insistence Kallen was safe and out of any danger before paying any attention to himself. Because of that, serious infection set it that required only the best the homeland had to offer. So despite his desire to avoid the rest of their 'family' the Stadtfeld head returned to the manor located in the prestigious lands of the imperial capital. Where he had sequestered away his siblings far from anywhere he would have ever had to go. However, he reluctantly came to decide he could ignore them no longer. Still, that wasn't too much of a concern for Kallen at the moment. She understood that without Naoto, it was now her that carried the Stadfeld name as it's heir. Her father reaffirming their power among the rest of their family was to her benefit, whether she wanted it or not. Except recent events gave her a reason to desire that title far more than she had living in Area Eleven.

Pushing it from her mind, Kallen retrieved her book from the table beside her, resuming the captivating story it told. She had some difficulty reading English, as it wasn't often practiced in Japanese schools. She spoke the language well enough, but she was regrettably more proficient in writing the oriental language than she was in her father's tongue. If she was to integrate herself back into the society of the Britannian elite it was imperative she was well versed in the culture and practices she ignored most of her life before. Failing even the most basic nuances of society would raise too many unwanted questions. It was clear to her the best path forward for both her and her father was to erase every connection they once had to their past, and luckily doing so wasn't impossible for a family of noble lineage. Shoving skeletons into closets was common practice. It wasn't a matter of who did or didn't, but merely who hid them better. Growling to herself as she attempted to decipher the text she failed to notice someone had approached her.

"Sorry to bother you, do you mind if I sit here with you?" She was asked by a boy standing above her.

"Um, no I don't mind." She responded, watching him settle into the other seat beside her.

"I just wanted to get out of that room for a while. But I don't think I'll be able to find my way back if i go too far." The boy explained. "My guard would give me hell if I got lost."

"No, I get it. My dad is just in that room over there, I haven't strayed out of line of sight from it." She agreed, her eyes falling to the book the boy carried with him. A sort of military strategy guide from the looks of it. Being here meant he belonged to someone important, Kallen assumed he was starting early on his military career. It wouldn't surprise her if that was the bare minimum needed to actually become an officer in a heavily competitive society. Bred from birth to lead she supposed.

Without further conversation, her new companion opened his own novel, eyes flitting over information at remarkable speed; prompting Kallen to do the same. She growled quietly to herself as the words failed to divulge their secrets to her, and she went to great lengths to decipher them.

"You aren't very familiar with English are you?" She was asked, surprising her as the boy was found to be watching her instead. "I just noticed you haven't turned a page in quite a while. Is the Count of Monte Cristo not a riveting page turner to you?"

Fumbling for a proper response, all the half Japanese girl could manage was an incoherent mumble. The black haired boy smiled mischievously in return. "I imagine your not from the homeland, you've been living in another country before now right? Given your in this hospital now could mean a few things, but I'd hazard a guess you lived in Japan: Area Eleven."

The shock on her face was probably enough to answer his theory for him, so he continued without an answer. "Well it's hardly uncommon. Whether for business or pleasure lots of nobles spend months or years in foreign nations."

Even so, Kallen doubted many of them actually married into those foreign cultures. He wouldn't be so accepting if he knew she wasn't a pure blooded Britannian she was sure. "I guess so." Was all she managed.

"Anyway, that book is one of my favorites. I find it...comforting in a way so to speak. You might not find a happy ending in such a tale, but in the end it gives hope to those cheated out of their future I think. You don't often find people preaching vengeance as a suitable option to get back what was once yours, no they say it only ruins you." Snorting slightly as if regarding something ridiculous to him, yet the words he spoke were heavy. Far darker than what was expected from such a young boy. "Well you really only know how that feels when you lose everything. You're already ruined beyond repair, and what else is supposed to satisfy that desire for revenge? Those who know despair…can never again find peace. Only satisfaction in vengeance."

It was then that she found her gaze meeting his amethyst eyes. In them she saw a reflection of her own, a deep scar that ran across his soul. Her wound had yet to heal, but in him the evidence was clear in that moment. That the pain she felt would never cease to ache in her heart. "Does it...ever get any better?" She asked, hand placed over the wound she couldn't quite reach.

"I really can't say." The boy answered truthfully. "At least, I've yet to find out for myself either. Suddenly you find yourself face to face with the cold reality of the world. Whether or not you're ready for it, you realize the world never cared in the first place. The only choices you're left with are to face that reality or let it consume you. Luckily, the pain you feel serves as a constant reminder that there is a reason to keep moving forward. So I don't think it's hopeless to wish for that, if anything."

Kallen listened quietly, trying to decide for herself if she had that reason he spoke of. Deep down a part of her already knew such a reason was there, kindling a small flame the despair had yet to smother out. In truth, it was a matter of what would win out in the end.

"Sorry, that probably sounds a little confusing. I'm not even sure myself if it's more than nonsense." The boy apologized, a sad smile on his face.

"No, it...I think I understand. At least, that wish is something I can understand." Kallen answered. Truthfully, her heart was what knew better than her head.

"I'm assuming you don't already know, but my name's Lelouch." Her companion told her. Normally she would have been irritated by such a comment, but the way it was spoken was devoid of the fathomless arrogance she likened with Britannian nobility. If anything, she thought he came across as relieved at that.

"I'm Kallen." She returned.

"Well Kallen, I'm glad to have met you." Lelouch replied. After another moment of silence, he asked her a more casual question. "What part are you to, in the book?"

Glancing down at the forgotten novel, she recalled the tale she was reading moments before. "He just escaped the chateau." She answered.

"That's a great part, marking a turning point in the story." The boy commented. "After enduring fourteen years of hell he is finally able to enact vengeance upon all those who betrayed him. I wonder though, do you think Alexandre Dumas understands the torment written into his character? Or the empty satisfaction he obtains in the end? I doubt it. With all that's left in his purpose is revenge we're told there is nothing to gain from that path. In the end that is the true message conveyed, that no happiness is to be found once it has been lost to the ambitions of others. But then what else is left for us?"

Nothing. The simple answer was that she had no future, no hope according to what was 'righteous.' "Then we're expected to forgive?" She asked seeing the undesirable solution offered.

"Perhaps, the world may teach us to be the better man." He then grinned. "But Dumas was French, we are Britannian. And no Britannian I know would bow to his enemies in the face of defeat."

That's right, she was Britannian. These past few weeks had put her life through her own personal hell. In her heart she had all but forsaken the heritage she had once treasured. The words she once heard and thought cruel and unjust suddenly made more sense when viewed from a different perspective. That to be Britannian meant to dominate, to seize victory in the face of defeat. In her case, to destroy in the face of destruction. Even if she didn't agree with many aspects of that philosophy she did come to recognize that much.

For the sake of what she lost, she must repay them in kind.

"My prince, something urgent requires you immediately." A young man who had approached them in her musings addressed Lelouch with a polite bow, and suddenly his earlier comment made a lot more sense.

With that insight came an impending sense of dread as she realized her fatal mistake. The one thing she understood about the social intricacies of Britannian society was the absolute superiority of the royal family. Kallen practically tripped over herself in an attempt to correct her error, falling into a poorly practiced curtsy. "Please forgive me your highness, I wasn't aware that I…"

Her fumbled apology fell flat when she noticed the prince's amused expression. "There's nothing to worry over milady, it was quite a refreshing conversation actually. My name is Lelouch vi Britannia, eldest son of the late empress Marianne."

Unsure of how to respond, she only bowed her head to hide the furious blush of embarrassment emblazoned across her cheeks.

"Well then Jeremiah, I suppose this is to be a private conversation. So if you'd excuse us-" The prince gave her a much more refined bow before turning to join the blue haired servant who called for him. He took a few steps before stopping, giving her a last parting word. "Perhaps there is salvation for those of us who know despair, but for now we must content ourselves with thoughts of vengeance." He spoke solemnly. "The world often bends to the whims of those with the strongest wills, and if there's one thing we know better than anyone: there is no greater desire than vengeance."

Later that day, Kallen would find out just what fate befell the fifth consort and her children. Though it might have been his intention, Lelouch had no idea just how well he had inspired her with those words. As the light illuminating the darkness around her, Kallen chased after that beacon. As the prince pursued his ambition, she found herself following behind him. Though she would take time to catch up to the boy, she never faltered from his shadow.

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Pendragon Imperial Palace; 2010 ATB

The opulence of the imperial capital's crown jewel never ceased to amaze so long as one had but an ounce of humility. Which was, ironically, the least common trait among those who frequented these immaculate halls. Lelouch was ever mindful as he tread those halls of the predatory eyes cast upon him from the shadows all around every flawless pillar, statue and painting. He walked with more confidence than he possessed in order to maintain the mask of the imperious prince that kept these vultures at bay; all the while his thoughts on the reason of just why he was here. It was unheard of, completely unorthodox to the point he couldn't begin to fathom the purpose. Many theories ran through his head, some boded far worse for him than others. Still, he resolved to meet whatever fate awaited him head held high.

"Well what a surprise it is to see you here, Lelouch." It took all his collective willpower not to punch the source of the voice that had come up behind him, the malicious intent well present. Before he even turned to look he knew who had dared to speak to him.

"Reagan, still skulking around the palace I see." He greeted with as polite a tone he could muster. Reagen du Britannia, his junior by but a few months, was the twelfth prince and the eldest child of the sixth consort. Among the royal family he was a shining example of the general opinion his siblings held of the 'half-blood', they're close age only made the intense-albeit one sided-rivalry that much worse. Lelouch himself couldn't care less, but his younger brother thought it his personal crusade to prove his absolute superiority over his lesser brother.

"There are many things dear brother, that require the expertise of a royal prince." He spoke with silvery venomous words, running a hand through his golden hair. "You're recent exploits were quite inspiring I must say. Really, I couldn't help but come to the conclusion that our military must be severely lacking to require that it calls upon you."

With a sideways glare, Lelouch continued to walk, forcing the younger prince to fall in step behind him. "Then I imagine it would fall to you to guide them?"

"If I am called upon, then perhaps. It is my duty to guide the lost where I am needed." Reagan answered, implying clearly Lelouch was unfit for such a role himself. "But you have yet to tell me, just what it is that has brought you here dear brother."

With a small victorious smirk, he replied. "I have been summoned by his majesty."

It was truly fascinating to watch the cascade of expressions cross his face in the span of mere seconds. Shock, disbelief and anger were quickly quelled to the credit of the younger prince, and a moment later he gave a strained reply. "I do hope you return the same as you are now, Lelouch. " it was true that he was as likely to be disowned as he was given any form of praise the emperor was capable of giving. And he was sure Reagan was avidly vying for the former. Without another word to acknowledge his brother, Lelouch continued his course with Reagen glaring at his back the whole way. However, his parting words only served to remind him of the thoughts that already plagued him. The emperor seldom summoned anyone, and the reasons as few as the occasions. What anyone would view as a good reason was far less likely than suicide being a more preferable alternative.

Lelouch was not bothered again as he continued on his linear journey through the palace to the audience chamber. His nerves were frayed with anticipation by the time he reached the massive double doors that stood between him and the emperor. With a bow to the young prince, the small ensemble of guardsman made way for his entrance, the doors swinging wide. He was not made to wait, which meant either he was perceived as late, which was very bad; or there was nothing pressing ahead of this summon, like his father had actually made time to see him. Which might be even worse. His thoughts were compounded upon stepping into the great room, completely devoid of the ever present nobility. Not one pair of eyes followed his figure save for the single man whose presence was enough to compensate for the eerie emptiness beside him.

Sitting upon his throne was the emperor, his stony face betraying no hints as to his intentions. In their place near the man were the bare minimum honor guard dressed in the ornate armor of their station, the only other individuals present to witness.

Lelouch finally came to stand before his father, stopping as close as was customary, just before the steps that separated the two of them. Sinking to one knee, he bowed before the emperor. "Hail, your majesty." He offered, breaking the silence.

After a few agonizing seconds of feeling the man's gaze bearing down upon his neck, he rose, to the young prince's surprise. Lelouch dared to glance upon as he was given a simple command.

"Come."

At last abandoning all preconceptions of what his purpose here was, the boy resigned himself to whatever terrible fate must await him.

The emperor rose, paying no attention to Lelouch's reaction as he stepped behind the throne, expecting his son to follow. Momentarily forgetting his simple order to his own stupor, Lelouch quickly scrambled to his feet, silently reaching the hidden chamber behind the throne: the emperor's personal consultation room. Of his children Lelouch knew only Schneizel and on rare occasions Odysseus had ever set foot in this room. Having just recently acquired the title of Prime Minister, his older brother spoke with their father likely more than all their other siblings combined.

The room itself was remarkably simple, a plain desk with only the few things deemed worthy of the emperor's attention placed upon it. A single painting of the Britannian flag adorned the windowless walls, and a table with two chairs in the center. The older man sat himself in one of the chairs, and with a brief look in his son's direction, gave him his next command. "Sit."

Wasting no time, Lelouch did as he was told. Now sitting across from the emperor of Britannia, he sat in an uncomfortable silence as his father appeared lost in thought. He looked down at the table between them, observing the chess set placed on top. It was a flawless work of art, the kind of thing that very well may become an imperial heirloom. Carved of marble and onyx each piece meticulously chiseled out sitting atop the duel stone board. On its border was the national anthem inscribed that ran the whole edge, with the royal seal at each corner. While he was admiring it's beauty he saw a hand pick up one of the pristine marble pawns and move it forward, opening a turn in the game. Was he called here...to play chess?

"I have heard that you acquired for yourself loyal soldiers to your cause." The emperor spoke causing Lelouch to blink in surprise. Primarily due to the fact that the man had actually cared enough to know that. Taking hold of his own pawn, he nodded in response.

"Loyalty is inspired by those who show exemplary leadership. Courage, prowess, cunning; these traits were boundless in your mother." He said along with his next pawn.

Several turns of the game went on in silence, and as the board grew in complexity, Lelouch's nerves began to get the better of him. Every piece was moved deliberately, and each decision behind them was made in a heartbeat. It was as if the man in front of him already had the game's end in his mind. And each turn on that path was decided with no other outcome. While the young prince labored over each decision to desperately stay afloat the opponent before him moved his next piece as soon as Lelouch released his own.

"Hesitation invites doubt in your actions. Absolute decisiveness in your ambition will leave no room for failure." The emperor told him in what was possibly the strangest source of deliverance in advice the boy could imagine. "Nor does it leave room for your foes to oppose you. Do not relent in your goal."

As living proof to his words, the ruthless strategy employed by the emperor was mercilessly crushing any meager resistance he could muster. If this game was meant to be a test, he was failing miserably. In only a handful of moves later check was called. "Hesitation also invites fear, and uncertainty in those that follow. If the king appears uncertain of his actions the pawns will falter, and defeat is inevitable. In all you do appear infallible, unbreakable, indomitable." With the last of his defenses eradicated, the final move was made. "Checkmate."

All the tension he felt from the simple game was released in a heavy breath. "I'm sorry, your majesty." He apologized for his failure, expecting a form of reprimanding. Instead, the man snorted in response.

"There are few children of mine who show even a modicum of promise. Results of paper thin relations with consorts who provided me nothing more than their name." His father revealed in surprising detail his opinion of his many wives. His children were nothing more than obligation to the consorts whose resources he took for himself. "If you show even a fraction of the ability your mother possessed I doubt you will disappoint me."

Praise though it may be, it was also an incredibly unnerving expectation coming from the emperor.

"In two years from now I will permit you to enter the officer's academy, provided you are capable of passing the entrance exams. I suggest you learn all you can from Cornelia and whomever she recommends to you."

Two years...that would still make him the youngest applicant he had ever heard of. To be personally allowed that by the emperor… "Thank you, your majesty."

"It is your own merit that determines your success, I am merely saving you time. That is all I will do for you."

Rising from his chair, the man strode to his desk. "That is all, you are dismissed." Paying his son no further thought, the boy left his company, leaving him alone. He examined the chess board, replaying the game in his mind. Victory was sinply a matter of applying too much pressure upon the child, leaving unable to properly respond to the pace of the game. The emperor was certain he would learn from it, and apply the same tactic in the future. All of this was at Marianne's (forceful) request. He was asked to prod the boy down the path to becoming an invaluable tool toward the completion of Ragnarok. What he would accomplish would become his inheritance, provided the prince proved worthy. But what he told him was still true however: he doubted the boy would disappoint.

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