"The will is a beast of burden. If God mounts it, it wishes and goes as God wills; if Satan mounts it, it wishes and goes as Satan wills; Nor can it choose its rider... the riders contend for its possession."
- Martin Luther

Chapter XXXVII: Die Verlassene Welt

Tobruk, Libya, Britannian Empire
October 7, 2025

The Sutherlands fired their assault rifles as one, raining bullets and grenades after their target, only for the desert brown monster of a knightmare to veer left and counterattack with its left arm mounted gun. Two of the Britannian knightmares crumpled as a result, their cockpit pods ejecting from the ruin, while two more of their comrades moved into cover their escape lest their adversary decide go after the vulnerable pods. Naturally neither the braun knightmare nor its three otherwise standard hellgrau companions pursued – there was no honor or point in slaying non-combatants – with the former raising the large rifle in its right and blasting it through the chest with a blue tinted energy shot. This time the whole the stricken frame detonated before the pilot could escape, as did a second and a third following. To this, the last Sutherland forwent its own rifle and brandished both of its stun tonfas to draw in close, either believing the braun knightmare to be weak at close-range or determined to join his comrades with his own glory intact. Naturally the braun knightmare dodged this attack as well, then promptly placing an ion shot into the Sutherland's back, causing it to explode as well.

"Disappointing," Rommel muttered to himself, both on that last Sutherland and the whole battle at hand. Indeed it was all going far too easily, too smoothly. As determined and valiantly as the Britannians were fighting to keep Tobruk, it would not be long before the city fell back into European hands. "Is this really the best defense you can mount against me Raymond?"

No response came to that inquiry of course. In fact, Rommel wasn't even sure if Prince Raymond, Lelouch's replacement in Nordafrika, was present, much less in command, of the field. Sighing at the notion, Rommel nonetheless brought the Koenigsloewe about and back to its standard combat speed, the three "regular" Loewes that served as his escort following along. At this point the Desert Lion was starting to wonder why he himself had gone into the fight at all. At least Lelouch, to say nothing of the Knights of Three, Six and Seven, would have made it far more worth his…

Abruptly did the building that he just passed by explode outward, revealing a lance wielding Gloucester that immediately set to charge. Again Rommel deftly reversed his knightmare to evade the lance strike, then bringing his left blitzvulkan back up to fire a burst into the Britannian unit's back. The Gloucester pilot, however, was both fast and anticipating enough to evade that attack, and so retaliated by twisting his blue tinted machine around and firing off both slash harkens. Sniffing contemptuously at the rather bland attack, Rommel banked the Koenigsloewe to the right at a speed worthy of the Lancelot's envy – something he, most of all, would have known – and brought his blitzgewehr back up, counterfiring. Again his target proved to be a little better than the average grunt and so evaded the gewehr shots as well, reversing and circling around the ion bursts before charging forward again, lance set to impale Rommel's machine through the middle.

Again quite unimpressed, the Desert Lion again appeared to simply dodge the oncoming attack, having the Koenigsloewe bank left. However, just as the Gloucester would have passed him, he reversed his evasion and launched right, effectively shoulder tackling the Britannian unit into the wall of another still intact building. That wall naturally collapsed upon impact, with the Gloucester ending up in a heap within the interior. It remained intact only for a little bit longer, before Rommel planted another gewehr shot into it as well, the explosion causing the rest of the building to collapse at last. One more Britannian down, still many more to go before Tobruk was safely back in the Union. However, unless there was a Round somewhere mixed into the opposition, Rommel doubted any of the other Imperial forces would prove more challenging.

"Truly embarrassing," he could not help but mutter further, again feeling that strange mixture of pity and boredom he felt whenever his opponents proved wanting. Yes, he understood that a poor commander like Raymond was advantageous to him, and Europa with him. Yes, he knew that taking back Tobruk was all too essential to taking back the rest of Nordafrika from the Britannians. And especially yes, he wanted to win the war against Britannia et al, lest the Imperials conquer his homeland and strip it of all the things he cherished and cared for. By those accounts, Rommel should have been in a celebratory mood; that he would win back Tobruk so easily.

Unfortunately that was not the case for Rommel in the least. As much as he preferred having Lelouch on his side – such as he was now – Rommel could not help but admit he missed having the Black Prince of Britannia leading the opposing army. Again Lelouch would have made it far more difficult for him, both at Tobruk and elsewhere, and Rommel would have reveled in the challenge, the sheer thrill of fighting an adversary as worthy as he was. Alas, it was not to be, no matter how much Raymond may have thought himself the Black Prince's better. The pissant certainly liked to carry himself as such, even when he was busy losing all the territory his "foolish" brother had accumulated five years on.

In the end however, as the Koenigsloewe's mono-eye shifted left toward another Britannian formation, Rommel knew that it did not matter a whit to the größeres Bild. As much as he wanted to have fun as he took back Afrika piece by piece from the Empire, General Joachim Rommel was a soldier before all else, and his obligating was to win the war period. His personal feelings therein were a secondary concern, no matter how aggravating it was to fight a pompous buffoon like Raymond ur Britannia.

As more Sutherlands came in, firing their assault rifles as they charged, Rommel decided at the very least he could enjoy taking part in his enemy's decimation. Thus withdrawing the blitzgewehr, the Koenigsloewe drew its two blitzschwerts in place, the blades flashing ionic blue upon activation. From there, the brown beast of a knightmare charged itself – once more at a speed that would have caused the Lancelot and its brethren to quiver – and began to slash apart one Sutherland after another. Not even another opposing Gloucester, one armed with MVS itself, could stop the Desert Lion, who all too easily dodged and circled around the enemy machine to cleave its cockpit block across. The fifth generation unit fell just as easily as the rest, the Koenigsloewe's mono-eye then shifting right to glare toward two more Sutherlands, which were fast moving in their fallen comrade's place. They did not make it far however, as Europe's flagship knightmare turned about once more, launching itself straight through the oncoming fire with its blades set to sunder.

Black Knights Camp Ginowan
Ginowan, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic

"This is our objective area, Alexandra Land," Kallen stated to her captive audience, the other eleven pilots of Zero Squadron listening intently as well as gazing at the marked island on the digital map behind their CO. "Though data on the island remains limited, it is confirmed that the Britannians have an installation here. Approximately thirteen thousand kilometers north of the European state of Murmansk and well within the Arctic Circle."

Well, it wasn't quite a Britannian base, Kallen knew all too well, but she knew better than to claim it as anything else. Besides, as far as she was concerned, the Eildons were only one or two steps removed from the Britannians anyway.

"As you can tell, we have very little data on this installation as well," Kallen partially lied once more. "It is however believed to be a research facility of some kind."

"If I may Major," Alfred raised his hand. "Is it at least speculated what kind of research is being done there?"

Kallen shook her head. "There's been some chatter around Command on that exact subject," Another partial lie of course. They knew what the Eildons were up there for, just not the exact details. "The only consensus is that it's some kind of weapons research."

She let that sink in before returning to the briefing. "Regardless, Zero has personally selected this facility for capture or destruction as necessary, and as Zero Squadron we will see it through," that earned a set of nods from the audience. "Alongside 4th and 6th Squadrons, we will deploy from the Tsuru, which will drop us right over the objective area here," a designation mark soon appeared on the screen, accompanied by various lines and arrows. "Standard AA layout and ground units, including knightmares, are to be expected."

She let that sink in as well. "Once we have taken them out and secured the exterior, the Tsuru will fly over again and deploy ground troops to remove any lingering resistance from the surrounding facilities. Assuming there are no last minute surprises, Alexandra Land will be ours for the foreseeable future. Any questions?"

This time it was Charmelle that raised her hand. "Is this a permanent or temporary stay?"

"Temporary, very much so," Kallen confirmed, biting back a smirk as she saw more than one of her pilots relax. "We will only remain for a few hours at most, depending upon how long it takes the Science Division to gain whatever it is they're seeking. After that, the facility will be put to the torch."

"Thank God," Kentaro exclaimed, shivering at the idea of actually staying in that frozen stretch of land any longer than a few hours. "I hate cold places."

"With your blubber ass?" Ageha couldn't help but jab. "I thought you'd be right at home, like a whale or a walrus!"

The opposite pilot opened his mouth for a response, but Kallen spoke first. "Exact enemy numbers have yet to be estimated, but for a facility this size, I would think we are looking at two, maybe three squadrons worth of knightmares, alongside regular armor, troops and possible aircraft," she stated, causing all attention to shift back to her. "And if this is indeed a weapons research installation, there is a good chance they will send the object, or objects, of their research after us as well. Be ready for anything out there."

Another collection of nods. No, none of them were expecting a Round to show up this time, but that didn't mean there wouldn't be any nasty surprises, like some new knightmare prototype or sakuradite fueled munitions. If anything that was more terrifying than the prospect of fighting any of Emperor Charles' chosen knights. At least they were a known enemy.

Kallen herself took a breath as she watched the eleven before her process the information. She truly wished she could tell them what she really knew, but what good would that do? Geass by itself would have been hard enough to explain, so how would she go about informing them of a clandestine order that utilizes technology from some farflung civilization? Technology that, as much as she recalled from her original scans, was likely far more advanced than anything in the present. And the Eildons had outfitted much of their military forces, up to and including their knightmares, as such.

In this case, it was best for them to simply believe they were facing regular Britannians – albeit regular Britannians with potentially bigger guns than average – and leave it at that. Once again it wasn't too far from the truth anyway.

"We deploy from Adampur in less than forty-eight hours," Kallen decided to conclude the briefing there, the screen deactivating behind her. Her pilots then stood up as well. "While there are many unknowns about this particular operation, we will succeed as we always have," the Red Dragoness' eyes flashed with determination. "Something I'm sure I am not alone in surmising."

She nodded approvingly toward the similarly determined expressions of her pilots. "Sound off Zero Squadron!"

"Remember Japan!" the eleven pilots recited as they saluted their superior in complete sync. "Long Live Zero!"

Kallen matched their salute. "Long Live Zero," she repeated, though not entirely for ritual's sake. Not for the first time, her gut clenched at the knowledge, the real knowledge, of their opposition. And that Lelouch himself would be there…

Ultimately she bit back those emotions. They would be dealt with soon enough anyway. "Dismissed."

With that, the eleven all departed the briefing room as one, with Benio being the last to leave. Kallen herself followed not long after, her thoughts still toward the real enemy they would soon face. As well as memories of their previous encounter.

"I have to admit, this is quite the operation you have set up," Orpheus could not help but observe as he and C.C., otherwise known as Major Cera Cathcart, continued down the grounds of Camp Ginowan. They were passed by several trainees doing laps, as well as a Gekka that was observing them. "We would never have dreamed of having any of this in Peace Mark."

"And for good reason," C.C. responded back. "Peace Mark was a simple terrorist organization, albeit one marginally better than average," she spoke in her usual biting tone. "Yours was to operate from caves and burned out buildings, not anything remotely resembling actual military."

Despite the backhandedness, Orpheus couldn't help but smirk at the Code Bearer. "You'd be surprised what you can do from those caves and burned out buildings…"

"Not really," C.C. responded back just as sharply, as though it were obvious.

"Ah, right," Orpheus acknowledged, as though only then remembering who he was talking to. "Any places or events I would know?"

"A few," C.C. answered as she led her guest back into Ginowan's interior. "I was with a certain 'madman' at Harper's Ferry, for example…"

"Damn," Orpheus let out with a grimace, easily recalling that particular event from Britannian history. He supposed that shouldn't have surprised him either. It wasn't as though Zero, or the renegade Lelouch vi Britannia, was that far removed from John Brown in his opinion, though the former's revolution was admittedly having far more success. Definitely more than Peace Mark could ever have hoped for, which Orpheus also admitted to himself, albeit a little more grudgingly.

Eventually the immortal and the Geass user made their way to an unoccupied office space, where they both took seats. C.C. then engaged the nearby wall monitor, which displayed Alexandra Land in all its digitized glory. "Since we're on the subject of 'bad guy hideouts', I have to say a seventy kilometer island in the Arctic Circle is a new one on me," she vocally considered. "I certainly never heard of the Eildons setting up shop there, until now of course."

"From what's been gathered on our side, the complex was originally a European weather station, which was abandoned during the Soviet War," Orpheus added as he also gazed over the image more than a little apprehensively. "As far as its present tenets are concerned, my guess is they found another Thought Elevator and are working to excavate it. Alongside any other First Civilization remnants they may come across."

"Ragnarok?" C.C. posited.

Orpheus nodded. "More than likely," he agreed, eyes narrowing in his own thought. "What really bothers me, however, is that they have to know that this was the specific basin Zero gleaned from their network. If they're not already waiting for us, then the Grandmaster has truly slipped over the years."

You have no idea, C.C. thought with more than a little distaste, remembering her last encounter with V.V. all too vividly. Even so, the point was made. "We have long anticipated that outcome," C.C. answered back. "Even so, Zero believes that to be an acceptable margin, as does our High Command. I do as well for that matter."

"Heh," Orpheus laughed a little at this. "Zero really does have his heart set on taking the Eildons down then? Even after all he has seen of their own operation?"

"More so because he has seen it," C.C. responded all too knowingly. "Geass alone is troublesome enough to his plans, so an entire military force outside Britannia that not only employs it, but is entirely aware of its strengths and weaknesses, is something he cannot allow."

Again Orpheus laughed a little at the idea. It was almost absurd. Even with the Order of the Black Knights' tremendous growth, they were going against a force that had existed in the world for millennia, and had access to arms that no modern civilization could hope to match. All this while Zero was still leading his more open crusade against Britannia, and Nationalist Europe alongside.

"Well, it's not like we at Peace Mark, at least those in the know, felt any differently," Orpheus ultimately surmised. "For all of V.V.'s promises of utopia, it's pretty clear the Eildons stand in the way of world peace."

This time it was C.C.'s turn to smirk. "Don't tell me you actually believe in that nonsense," she let out. "As long as two people disagree anywhere on this planet, there will never be such a thing as true world peace."

"Believe me, I've had that exact same argument with the rest," Orpheus said. "Some realized it as well. Others, especially those in upper management, not so much."

The Code Bearer couldn't help but be a little more curious. "So why?"

Orpheus shrugged. "V.V. and his miscreants killed the woman I loved," he said, looking down somewhat as that brought to mind his prior chess game with Zero. Itself causing him to open his right hand, imagining he was still holding the white queen piece. "Do I need a better reason than that?"

An expression of sympathy crossed C.C.'s face on that, much as it took Orpheus off guard. "No, you wouldn't," she acknowledged simply, knowing better than to ask for any further details on the subject.

She looked back toward the monitor. "While I doubt the Grandmaster will be present when we strike, at the very least it will be a step in the right direction," C.C. seemingly thought out loud. "Toward a proper reckoning."

Orpheus nodded in solemn approval. "I can ask no more than that," he said as he gazed over Alexandra Land once more, already anticipating what they would find there. Indeed, he imagined Operation Fubuki would prove a very fruitful venture, and not just for Zero and his Black Knights.

Ryukyu Government Bureau
Naha, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic

"I don't like this Lelouch," Kaguya proclaimed after the explanation of Operation Fubuki was completed. Normally military matters were not the Prime Minister's greater concern, but upon hearing of the planned Black Knight assault on Alexandra Land – which Kaguya wouldn't have been able to find on a map before her blindness – she could not help but feel perturbed. "If the Eildons really are as powerful as you and everyone else who know of them claim them to be, then I understand why you wish to eliminate the threat the represent. But to choose a target so far away…"

"On the contrary Madam Prime Minister, that's what makes it the ideal choice," Lelouch responded assuredly. "Alexandra Land's remoteness ensures that there will be no outside interference, either from the other Eildon forces or any Britannian or possibly European forces that may fall under their sway. Likewise, despite V.V. and the rest of the leadership obviously realizing the target, they would only be able to reinforce their installation there so much due to its setting."

Kaguya considered that for a moment. "But at the same time, you will have isolated your own forces from the rest of the Black Knights proper," she pointed out. "Unless you have more Tsuru-class airships that I haven't been filled in on."

Though redundant, Lelouch shook his head anyway. "Unfortunately not. While more airships are being constructed as we speak, the Tsuru herself is the only one that's flyable at this time. Washi, the next of her class closest to completion, will not be operational for another month or so."

Kaguya frowned at that information. "And I suppose the Britannians took all of their Griffins with them following the Red Rebellion?"

"We believe so, yes," Lelouch nodded, again in spite of the redundancy. He then decided to throw some humor the Prime Minister's way. "I would be more inclined to ask my brother Schneizel if I can borrow the Avalon for the weekend."

Kaguya appeared nonplussed despite. "In other words," she began to summarize. "You are about to attack a very remote, very distant installation, one occupied by a force of even greater danger than Britannia, with only an airship fresh off the assembly line and three knightmare squadrons," in spite of her blindness, she was somehow able to fix Lelouch a pointed expression. "The same force, I may point out, that came dangerously close to killing you not too long ago."

Withholding a sigh, Lelouch confirmed. "Indeed."

Not bothering to withhold her own sigh, Kaguya only appeared that much more troubled. Yes if the Eildons were as powerful as she had heard, it was all too essential that they be eliminated, and not simply because they were aware of Ryukyu as Major Kouzuki and Major Cathcart had both confirmed. But at the same time, she could not help but feel that the characteristic brazenness of the man before her – a trait she had been well aware of since he had stayed in Genbu Kururugi's household fifteen years ago – had gotten ahead of him. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time.

Knowing precisely what she feared, Lelouch took on a softer expression. "I know what you're thinking Kaguya, and though you have every right to worry, I promise I'm not in over my head on this. As dire as Operation Fubuki may seem, it will not turn out as my previous encounter."

Though still hesitant, Kaguya at least seemed to listen in as Lelouch spoke further. "When V.V. initiated his trap, he caught me blindsided. I was aware of the Eildons then, but not their full capabilities, and for that I was defeated, if not worse. Now however, I know what I'm up against, and as powerful as this particular enemy is, it still has its fair share of weaknesses. Namely its isolation from the rest of the world."

His usual smirk soon folded over his lips. Somehow, Lelouch knew Kaguya had detected it. "Fubuki will take full advantage of that isolation and use it against them. From that, we will gain a stronger footing not only against them, but also against any others who may use Geass against us."

That smirk wasn't the only thing Kaguya picked up on. "Including your father."

Lelouch's grin increased, taking on an air of vindictiveness. "Once more indeed."

A moment of silence soon intruded as Kaguya mused over the Demon King's words. For what it was worth, Lelouch at least believed that Fubuki was made to his advantage; that it would the Eildons on the defensive this time around, and they would not hold against the coming storm. Unfortunately however, Kaguya still felt that the man who she had once intended to marry was still setting himself up to fail. That there were too many uncertainties to consider, up to and including the Eildons obviously anticipating the attack and setting up a trap accordingly.

Even so, as much as Kaguya wanted to voice her concerns further, she knew that it wasn't her place to do so. That, once again, it was best to leave such matters to the one before her. "Just make sure you return this time as well Lelouch," the Prime Minister almost whispered. "Otherwise I will not be able to see the world you promised me."

A twinge of sympathy welled up in Lelouch on that, recalling their first meeting after eight years not too long ago. As well as the words he had spoken to her then. "I will Kaguya. And you will see it," he stated, bringing his hand over to hold hers. "This is simply one more step toward its fruition."

The Prime Minister nodded to this, at least believing that much.

Alexandra Land
Franz Josef Archipelago, Arctic Circle

With the characteristic hiss and pop he had been used to since piloting a Sutherland, Jeremiah waited as the cockpit hatch of his newest machine opened, allowing to at last stand in the open air. The interior of the hangar was frigid as usual, but he paid it little mind. His cybernetic components allowed him to function in virtually any environment, and in the frozen north, they ensured his body warmth even in freezing weather. They also allowed him to endure more than any normal human, no matter how physically fit, could ever wish to, such as when he forwent the side cable and simply leaped down from his machine's cockpit to the ground below. Outside a loud clang of his boots impacting against the metal floor, there was no other outcome, least of all the broken legs he would have otherwise suffered. More than a few nearby techs flinched toward his landing however, but they kept to their own tasks.

Exhaling through his nostrils, the former Purist turned around to again look up at the machine V.V. had insisted he use against Lelouch when he made way for Alexandra Land. Though the Grandmaster wasn't far off base when he claimed Jeremiah would have rather piloted a Sutherland, especially the grossly enhanced models that the Eildons fielded, he had to admit he was rather impressed with this particular weapon. Somehow it was, and wasn't, a knightmare frame simultaneously. If not for the obvious, it certainly would have been considered one in a nominal setting, yet its power and performance were far greater than anything Jeremiah had seen or piloted before. Not even the Siegfried had been so powerful, such that Jeremiah almost wished it had been this machine he had used to fight the Gawain during the Black Rebellion. There would have been no way Lelouch or C.C. would have been able to triumph against it then, certainly.

Not for the first time in the last few days did Jeremiah feel himself frown as he once again thought of his enemy, the condemned man he was meant to execute. Even now, he could not say, in spite of their past interactions, that he was wholly content with the notion of executing Empress Marianne's son. Yes, Lelouch had humiliated him repeatedly in the past, the outcomes of which had relegated him to where he was now, and certainly Jeremiah would have been justified if he had claimed that this was indeed personal. Yet, as he stared up at his giant steed, whose dark colors he felt were more akin to the Mordred's scheme than the Eildon knightmares around him, he only felt a sense of grim dedication to his task and little else. That Lelouch vi Britannia would be killed by his hand – as he had been once already – but there would be no glory, vindication from the deed. And in some ways, Jeremiah could not help but feel that he was going against the wishes of his late Empress in doing so.

Ultimately shaking his head, he decided that was enough simulation for one day and so turned and made his way out of the hangar. Bartley, who was also present in Alexandra Land and had been monitoring his simulations, had begun to move toward him for discussion, but upon seeing the expression Jeremiah's face, the former Imperial Army general simply nodded that the simulation results had been satisfactory and otherwise let Jeremiah go about his way. That did the cyborg executioner just fine, since he doubted there was much else to discuss now anyway. At this point, the simulations were meant more to kill time than anything else.

At any rate, Jeremiah wanted nothing more now than to return to his personal abode and retire with a glass of wine. Half-man, half-machine he might have been, but he still needed rest, and his mechanical components did not remove the necessity of food and drink, though he could go much longer without any of those than a regular human being. Besides, there wasn't much else to do there in that forgotten spit of land.

Eventually he made his return, and a few moments later he was sitting in a relatively comfortable chair with a glass of European pinot noir in hand. Though the cold was not as hindering to him as it would have been eight years ago, the wine's effect was almost immediate as Jeremiah felt himself warm and relax. Unfortunately it did not dispel the uncertainty he felt within, more so as he recalled having indulged in the same activity right before he had confronted Lelouch not too long ago. It seemed such thoughts would be a fixture, at least until his task was completed, or so he hoped.

Sighing another airy breath, Jeremiah again wondered what Empress Marianne would have wanted for him, especially in regard to her prodigal son. Logically she would have been affronted at how Lelouch had dishonored her name, and that she would have wanted him brought to justice at the very least. Did that justice entail death however? Jeremiah still wasn't quite sure, and it bothered him so. Once more if it had been but eight years ago he probably would not have been so hesitant, but now, now that he knew so much more about the world around him, he was hesitant. Perhaps even remorseful.

Ultimately however, once more with grim bearing, he knew what he had to do, and that he would see it through. Regardless of his personal feelings, or how he believed Her Imperial Majesty would have wished for him and her son, Jeremiah knew that such matters were irrelevant to the whole. Lelouch vi Britannia was far too dangerous to let live. Not just to the Eildons or Britannia, but to the whole of the world around them, the same world the Grandmaster and so many others were laboring to save from a great enemy, which Lelouch himself may or may not have been in league with. To allow him to continue would only extend the chaos and destruction that had begun with the Devastation, and was now permeating in the wake of the Red Rebellion. The Demon King needed to be brought down, and Jeremiah Gottwald was the man chosen to see to it.

Though still hesitant, that resolution was enough for Jeremiah to go on, at least when the time came. For now however, there was only the wine, and the accompanying darkness. As well as his hope and prayer that Her Majesty would forgive him when all was said and done.

Britannian Formidable-class land battleship Fervent
State of France, European Union

"With respect Your Highness, I believe you're being too complacent," Gino spoke with as little disparagement as he could, which was rather trying on his part. "Lyon is the third largest city in this state, and has a multitude of assets for the European military. I do not think the Europeans will give it up as easily as you seem to believe."

"And with respect Sir Gino, I have already taken your protests under advisement," Prince Hannes gua Britannia responded to the Knight of Three, not bothering to hold back his own underlying disparagement. "As thinly as the Euroscum are stretched right now, especially in the defense of Paris and to keep us from moving eastward into Germany, they will not wish to expend so many resources, not even in a city like Lyon."

He gestured back at the monitor, which displayed his "grand" strategy to take the aforementioned city. "This is will all be sufficient enough, I assure you," he proclaimed, once more showing pride in his own supposed brilliance. "In fact, it's probably overkill considering you three will be taking part."

Alongside one other. Suzaku thought but didn't say aloud. "I'm afraid I agree with Sir Gino, Your Highness," the Knight of Seven spoke up in a near monotone, causing Hannes' increasingly impatient gaze to turn on him. "As thinly stretched as the enemy is, they still have plenty of men and machines to throw at us, and they've already proven their willingness." Otherwise all of France would be ours by now. "I think you should reconsider your strategy, as well as just how much you would be willing to send out for this battle."

"I concur as well," Anya added on even more blandly, her own gaze even more pointed and critical than her compatriots in spite. "You are setting yourself up to fail, Your Highness."

Hannes sighed, apparently put off that he had to repeat himself to his father's tamed lapdogs. "I already stated that I have taken your claims under advisement. And that I believe this will be more than enough to take the city regardless," he spoke to all three, the tone of his voice reminding them who was the prince and who were the jumped up knights in colored cloaks. "And, as much as I appreciate your insights, this is not North Africa. Nor are we fighting the Desert Lion here, and even if we were, it would still be entirely different from what you three are used to."

The prince shook his head. "This is the Western Front, Sirs Gino and Suzaku, Dame Anya," he pontificated, as though they had to be reminded of that as well. "The battles we fight here are on the plains and woodlands, not in the Sahara, and our enemies are of a much different stock as a result. You would do well not to overestimate them."

Exhaling through his nostrils, it took much effort on Gino's part not to tell the arrogant redheaded turd of a prince where he could stick it. By comparison, Suzaku and Anya were far more passive, though even they could not help but be put off by such behavior and complacency. All three, and the officers and men present at the table who weren't idiots and/or sycophants, could only wonder how in hell did this fool become Prince Schneizel's replacement in Western Europe.

"I'm sorry," a new, far more silken voice spoke up as its owner at last entered the room, causing more than one set of eyes to shift. "Have I come at a bad time?" Rolo quired disarmingly.

Hannes' face tightened for a moment, but he managed to pull himself back before anyone but Rolo noticed. "Not at all Lelouch," the opposite prince claimed with practiced authenticity. "Though we are now just finishing up the meeting. Do you want me to go back over the operation for you?"

"No, that won't be necessary. I can see it all well enough from here," Rolo waved him off as he moved to take a seat next to Gino. "And I can definitely see the reason for concern Hannes. You're deploying your own forces too thinly for a city of this size, especially when the Europeans know how badly you want it…"

Again exhaling from his nostrils, Gino, not for the first time, had to fight back a certain nagging sensation as he listened to the man beside him explain the flaws in the other prince's planned assault. Gino knew that the man beside him was Lelouch. He walked like Lelouch, talked like Lelouch and had all the same quirks and qualities as Lelouch, including a far greater knack for strategy than other prince. Yet deep down, Gino could not help but feel that the one beside him – the one many others acknowledged as the Black Prince of Britannia – was not Lelouch. And not simply because he no longer had a scar over his left eye.

"Yes, I understand that Lelouch," Hannes diplomatically countermanded, somehow not gritting his teeth in his increasing ire. "Unfortunately however, this is the best option to be taken now, especially for when we take the rest of France and cross the Rhine in the not too distant future."

Rolo flashed a grin. "Already anticipating a march on Berlin, brother?" he inquired, once more disarmingly.

Hannes smirked in return. "A very distinct possibility brother," he resounded, then turning back to the monitor. "But for now, I will content myself with this particular city," he then swept his eyes across the three Rounds. "With the appropriate amount of force."

Gino, Anya and Suzaku said nothing to this, and knew better than to try. Like it or not, Prince Hannes was commander of the Western Front – at least presently – and unless the Emperor himself specifically granted any of them direct authority, they could only observe and advise in events like this. Even when they knew that the upcoming Battle of Lyon was to be a brutal affair, one that they could very easily lose.

"Alright then," Rolo shrugged as he stood back up from his seat. If he himself was perturbed by his "brother's" stratagem, then he did not show it. "When do we deploy?"

Hannes smiled almost triumphantly, at last hearing a response that he preferred. "We send out the first wave at 0800 tomorrow," he responded, before his face tightened again somewhat. "I assume you will be out there as well?"

"But of course," Rolo answered back all too smoothly, doing well not to rub his "brother's" face in it. Specifically that the Black Prince of Britannia would effectively steal his thunder by going out there in his trademark black and gold knightmare frame, and Hannes, who was not even a devicer himself, could do nothing to prevent it. "I've only had a few sorties with the Constantine up to this point, so a battle like this one would be most welcome."

"Well, I'm glad I can accommodate you," Hannes responded, again doing well not to grit his teeth. "In that regard, this meeting is now adjourned," he finally announced, causing the conference table occupants to rise as one. "By this time tomorrow, I expect to receive the keys of the city. Do not disappoint me."

"Yes, Your Highness!" the assembled – including Suzaku, Gino and Anya – all recited. Rolo merely retained his grin, which was otherwise unreadable.

Doing well not to glare back at his insufferable brother, Hannes finally gave the awaited command. "Dismissed!"

With that, the various officials all made their way out of the briefing room, with Rolo leading ahead with Suzaku, Anya and Gino in tow. Once again however, as his eyes fell upon the Black Prince's back, Gino felt something was well and truly out of place. And that, no matter how much he tried to fight it back, it would not stay down.

By comparison, Suzaku said nor felt anything. Neither did Anya, though deep within, she could feel the vexation of someone else entirely.

European 10th Army Headquarters
Yekaterinburg, State of Yekaterinburg, European Union

"I'm sorry Major, but I'm afraid I cannot help you," Sergei actually spoke apologetically to the young displaced Japanese officer that had somehow ended up in his neck of the woods. "All transportation craft are already committed, up to and including civilian evacuation. If you want to get passed the Urals, I'm afraid you're going to have to start walking."

"Is there really nothing you can do sir?" Akito spoke as close to pleadingly as he could. "Our orders are to return to Germany at the best possible speed."

"Major, in a few days' time, Bloody Marry's army will march upon this city," Sergei continued as he moved over to a nearby drink cabinet. "My own orders are to use any and all available means to defend it, and if not then hinder the enemy as much as possible."

When the General returned, he had two glasses and a bottle of whiskey with him. He then poured the brown liquid into either glass. "I intend to destroy that army outright," the General declared as he passed one of the glasses to Akito, who accepted it gratefully. "And for that I need to either get such necessary resources into Yekaterinburg before the enemy legion arrives, or to get as many innocents out of the city in the same span."

"And I suppose my pilots and I fall into the former category General?" Akito bemusedly inquired as he took a sip of the whiskey, which began to warm him almost immediately.

"Very much so Major. Especially if the rumors I've been hearing lately are true," Sergei stated all too knowingly. "Rumors that claim of special forces attacking Black Knight installations in Chinese Kazakhstan."

Akito did well not to smirk. "I'm afraid I know nothing of such matters General."

"I'm sure you don't," Sergei spoke with all volumes of belief, but did not press the issue, instead taking his own drink. "Regardless, short of orders from the President or Central Command, Colonel Malkal will have to do without you for the time being. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is…"

"I understand," Akito acquiesced. In truth he had suspected this would occur the moment he entered Yekaterinburg, which might as well have been classical fortress at this time. If and when Marrybell's forces arrived, they would be in for a hell of a fight. "I only ask that Colonel Malkal be informed of our delay."

Sergei nodded in his own understanding. "I will see to that myself," he replied. "In the meantime, you and your men and women are welcome to make yourselves at home. For whatever it amounts to."

Akito took another sip of his whiskey before inquiring. "Are things really as dire out here as the rumors I have heard claim, General?"

Sergei could only give a wry smile on that. "Probably worse Major," he admitted. "It's been a long slog since the initial landings in Chukotka and Kamchatka, but the Britannians have maintained their advance throughout. For the last five years we have hindered them and hindered them greatly, but they kept up their march regardless."

Another long sip on the General's part. "That's why we must destroy them here, in the one pass in the Urals that they can cross without having to move through China," he stated with utmost importance. "If they somehow break out, then it will only be days before they march on Moscow…"

"And then Berlin will be caught between two fronts," Akito summarized, recalling how dangerously close to the European capital that Schneiz-er, Hannes' forces in the west were coming.

"Precisely," Sergei nodded in confirmation.

Akito did well to hold back a sigh on that. Operation Tiegel, as General Zhukov had claimed it, really did live up to its name. Within the crucible, the very fate of Europe would be determined, perhaps for the entire war.

Well, no matter he supposed. Better they fight the real enemy – especially those under Marrybell mel Britannia's sway – than setup to go after Zero again. Though Akito had a feeling that the Demon King would not remain on the sidelines of this himself.

Romanov Krone
Yekaterinburg, State of Yekaterinburg, European Union

"Damn it all it's cold!" Ryo complained as he, Yukiya and Ayano at last entered the tavern, shedding their greatcoat to welcome the interior heat. It had been cold in Kazakhstan as well, but nowhere near the level he was experiencing now. The Far East really lived up to its foreboding reputation. "How do people live in here!?"

"They don't," Ayano responded as she looked toward the tavern's occupancy, who were all noticeably wearing Heer or Luftwaffe uniforms. Not a single civilian was among them. "Not anymore at least."

Both Ryo and Yukiya nodded in understanding. It made sense for the civvies to clear town and evacuate west at this time, especially if the fighting was going to be as bloody as they and the rest of Werwolf had been hearing since arriving. Hopefully Akito would get them a ride out as well soon enough.

In the meantime however, there was only one way to deal with the cold without having to light something on fire. Thus three moved over to some open spaces at the bar counter, with Ryo ordering three Märzenbiers, which was somehow on the menu in spite of everything. The barkeep complied and a moment later, three frothy mugs were presented, which the three officers gratefully received.

It was more than a little strange for the three displaced Japanese, using cold liquid to warm themselves, but the Märzenbier did the trick. Ryo almost leaned back in his stool with all signs of satisfaction. "Yeah, that hits the spot," he proclaimed. "At least we're not that far from home."

"Which one?" Yukiya posited somewhat jokingly, though the humor didn't last.

The subject of their first homeland mellowed the three out somewhat, though it didn't hurt nearly as much as it used to. They, and the rest of Werwolf with them, had long taken Europa as their homeland, well before the Devastation.

"Not that we would have had beer like this back in Japan," Ayano added on to lighten the mood. "Even if we had been at drinking age at the time."

Ryo was about to respond to that when the tavern door opened again. Allowing two figures in dunkelgrau to enter, and sneer at the rest of the hellgrau adorned occupants.

"I knew something smelled rancid," one of the sturmtruppen muttered in disgust as he saw the tavern occupied with regulars. "To think these are valiant defenders of Europa, waiting to stand against the eastern tide…"

"Please," the other thug proclaimed, the two dark uniformed men both shedding their greatcoats and proceeding into the dining area. Naturally it wasn't long before they saw that three of the present were somewhat different from the rest. "Was zur Hölle?" he exclaimed. "When did the Elevens get to this shithole?"

"I heard they came in not too long ago," the first proclaimed, alternating between sneering at Ryo and Yukiya as well as looking Ayano up and down. "Don't ask me where they came from though. For all I know, they're all late by eight years."

"Either that, or Zero sent them here," the second proclaimed as he came to stand next to Ayano. "Is that what you are imouto-chan? One of Zero's hündinnen?"

Ryo entered before Ayano did something permanent to the creep. "If you haven't noticed, Leutnant," he spoke in a near growl, emphasizing that the scumbags were both two ranks lower than he, and one rank lower than Yukiya and Ayano. "We're having a quiet drink here and do not appreciate the disturbance."

The warning flew over the two stormtroopers like a bird. "Can you believe this?" the first one let out. "This Eleven thinks he can boss us around. Isn't that funny as hell?"

"Fucking hilarious," the second proclaimed, now looking Ryo up and down. "Even funnier, he's parading around in one of our uniforms!"

"The Heer must be getting real desperate," the first laughed as well.

As the two had their short laugh, Yukiya glanced over to Ryo. "Isn't this the part where we kick their sorry asses Ryo?"

"I certainly wouldn't mind the exercise," Ayano let out as she flexed her fingers, making the bones crack.

"Now now imouto-chan, let's not get like that," the second let out with even greater condescension, then reaching down to rest his hand on her posterior. "Here, let me buy you another drink, and then…"

That was as far as he got before Ayano's fist swung out. The next thing the stormtrooper realized was that he was on the ground, and the left side of his face hurt.

"Du Schlam…!" the other began to move to his partner's defense only for Ryo to reach out and smash his head onto the counter. He then let up to allow Yukiya to reach out and throw him back against the floor, joining his partner.

When the two were on their feet again, so were the three Japanese officers. As well as the rest of tavern, who had been listening in and were ready to join in the fun.

"No Yukiya," Ryo proclaimed as he also cracked his knuckles. "This is where we kick their sorry asses."

"Evidently," Yukiya responded, readying himself.

"Bring it Eleven schweine," the first stormtrooper snarled as he and his compatriot prepared for the fight, now looking akin to a pair of snapping rottweilers surrounded by a wolf pack. "I'll be glad to show you how we Sturmtrupp…!"

"That will be enough," a new voice cut through the tension, right as a brown haired man and a blonde woman – both wearing uniforms with Major rank tabs – entered into view. "There will be plenty of fighting in the near future, against enemies we are all set against."

For whatever reason, the two rottweilers seemed to hesitate in the face of the brown haired Major. The three Werwolfs all felt he was someone they should have recognized, but couldn't.

"I recommend you find another tavern," the Major commanded as he, and the blonde woman with him, looked quite ready to put the two junior officers in their place if they so much as moved the wrong way. "And if not, then get the hell back to Volgograd."

Again the two sturmtruppen hesitated, seemingly trying to decide whether to fight regardless or if discretion really was the better part of valor. Eventually they decided on the latter, and so exited not long after.

Letting out a breath as soon as the door closed, the Major then turned to face the three Japanese officers. "As for you three," he addressed. "I assume you've had plenty enough action already."

"You assume correctly Herr Major," Ryo responded, still unsure of who this man was, yet somehow felt was someone to be respectful toward.

"Good, then you will have no qualms returning to your quiet drink," Andrei Zhukov nodded as he gestured the Japanese back to their stools, where he and Louise both took a seat alongside. "I'm Major Andrei Zhukov," he finally said, all but rolling his eyes at the trio's realization. "And this is Major Louise Hameln."

"Captain Ryo Sayama," Ryo returned the favor. "And these are Lieutenants Yukiya Naruse and Ayano Kosaka."

"Nice to meet you," Louise greeted. "Suffice to say we do not get many Japanese around here, much less in uniform. I assume you three are not regular forces?"

"You assume correctly as well Frau Major," Ayano answered back respectfully enough. Though the opposite Major may not have been related to any Generals, Ayano could tell that she was to be just as well regarded. "We just came in ourselves."

"You could say we're on vacation in fact," Yukiya couldn't help but chime. He then nodded to the now closed door. "How long have they been here?"

Andrei could only smile flatly. "Too long Oberleutnant, though they're only really abundant in Volograd."

The three Werwolfs did well to keep that in mind. It just may be vital to them in the future, though for the moment it only served to keep them out of Volograd for the immediate future.

"Don't worry about them too much," Louise reentered. "They normally keep to themselves and not bother with we Untermensch. What happened now was something of an exception, not the rule."

"That's reassuring at least," Ryo nodded as he took another swig. "As if fighting the Britannians wasn't difficult enough." Or the Black Knights for that matter.

"Speaking about the Britannians," Ayano spoke up again. "Is what we've been hearing true? They're really coming here?"

"All too soon Oberleutnant," Andrei assured, just as the barkeep returned with drinks for he and Louise. "And on the chance you're here when they do, I can guarantee you will have plenty to choose from…"

Imperial Army Headquarters Krasnoyarsk
Krasnoyarsk, Krasnoyarsk, Britannian Empire

Once again, the day had ended too fast for Oldrin Zevon, and the air had grown that much colder as a result. Not that she was particularly adverse to darkness or cold of course, but even now, after having effectively lived five years in this distant land, she was still not used to the transition. It was as thought night and day were wholly different in the Far East compared to Britannia; yet another reminder that she was far from where she, and arguably those around her, should have been.

As she stood on the headquarters building roof and watched the sun gradually set west, Oldrin once more felt troubled. Though she had never voiced her concerns to anyone, much less her liege, the war had never sat well with her. No, it wasn't that she was secretly unwilling to fight for her Empire or her Princess; far from it in fact, considering how much she had fought for either over the last five years. And it wasn't that she was adverse to the bloodshed; as the heiress of the House of Zevon, she had quite literally been bred to fight, to kill as necessary. That meant shedding a lot of blood, and eventually you got used to it as you would anything else. Rather, it was the war itself that troubled her; the reasons supposedly behind it, as well as how it has been carried out up to this point. Oldrin could not help but feel that there was much amiss with either.

Her thoughts must have reached her face as she felt it begin to frown. As no one was present with her, she allowed it, but normally her emotional control was of higher grade. Yes, it was the war itself. The fact that, five years running, Britannia had yet to completely conquer any of the three fronts it was fighting Europe in. The Far East spoke for itself, though Oldrin knew the reasons there, and distant Africa was defended by the Desert Lion and not so easily conquerable, even for one such as the Black Prince. Western Europe, however, was a different matter. By all facts and logic, up to and including Prince Schneizel having led the fight there personally, at least until recently, it should not have lasted so long. In fact, Oldrin dare believe that Berlin should have been brought under Imperial control long ago, and with it perhaps Africa and the Far East would have capitulated as well. The war should have been over, and Britannia victorious.

So why not? Why were they still there? Still slogging along to march on Moscow, when, again by Oldrin's timetable, it should have been conquered years ago. Oldrin only wished she had the answers, just as she also wished that she did not have such doubt, such uncertainty. Unfortunately however, she only possessed the latter. And it was becoming more and more difficult to keep herself from dwelling on…

"You seem to have much on your mind, Dame Oldrin," the light, sweet voice of her friend and liege spoke up as Marrybell moved onto the rooftop herself. Upon coming to stand by Oldrin, the princess deliberately shivered. "Enough that you would stand out here, instead of the observation room, at this hour?"

"It's the open air I require Your Highness," Oldrin responded back in a dutiful tone to match her princess' address of her as 'Dame Oldrin'. "You can only spend so much time in a knightmare's cockpit before your body begins to crave it."

"Heh," Marrybell laughed a little, once more in a light and sweet tone. As though she really were the complete opposite of her infamous moniker. "Well, I suppose there's no harm done, outside of potential frostbite at least," she then eyed her knight curiously. "So why are you out here Oldrin?"

Oldrin allowed the frown to show again, though she dared not explain the exact reasoning behind it. "No reason in particular," a small smirk forming on her lips. "I wanted to know if I could see Yekaterinburg from here."

Again another light laugh. "If you can, then you have the best vision in the Empire," Marrybell responded. "Perhaps the Emperor should have dubbed you the Eagle of Britannia instead of Sir Gino."

"Bah," Oldrin pretended to be offended. "I don't need any technicolor cloak to be a knight. And as much as I serve the Emperor, I serve you most of all, Marry."

Marrybell smiled warmly on that. "Yes, you do Oldrin," she answered in approval. "You have served me well, and for so long."

Though obvious complimentary, Oldrin felt there was something amiss within that response. However, much as she had her earlier thoughts, she did not allow them to the surface.

Marrybell turned back to the setting sun. "In any case, I think we will all be able to see Yekaterinburg soon enough. And Moscow and Berlin not long after."

"Indeed," Oldrin forwardly concurred, again quashing her lingering doubts. "It's been a long five years Your Highness, so forgive me if I say that I'm looking forward to that conclusion."

Marrybell nodded in concurrence. "There is no need for forgiveness Oldrin, as I feel much as you do," she explained. "It has been a long five years, but they will soon come to their desired close."

The woman long regarded as the second coming of Princess Massacre reached her hand out toward the distant twilight. "In the end, we will all gain what we have long sought," she declared, before closing her hand into a fist. Daring to imagine the whole of the Far East within such a grasp.

"Damn it to hell!" Captain Sir Leonhardt Steiner bellowed as he watched the latest goal attempt fail. "You're supposed to get the ball past the goalie, you idiot!"

"Heh heh, looks like I'm already fifty pounds richer," Captain Dame Sokkia Sherpa declared, much to her comrade's ire. "Really Leon, you might as well give the money up now. Save yourself the embarrassment."

"Not a chance!" Leonhardt defiantly declared. "There's still plenty of time left, and Hail Marys are known to happen!"

"'Hail Mary'…" Sokkia considered amusedly for a moment. "That's rather fitting for us and all, but not so much your beloved Reds."

Leonhardt was about to comment, but was interrupted upon Sokkia's team having scored a goal instead, much to the roaring of the televised crowd.

"Case in point," Sokkia gleamed as Leon appeared as though he were about to spontaneously combust.

"Is he losing again?" the voice of one other, specifically Captain Sir Tink Lockhart, spoke out in its usual "tough yet nice guy" mode, moving to join his comrades gathered around the telemonitor. "Oh, he is."

"You don't have to rub it in Tink," Leonhardt scowled, all but covering his face to shield his humiliation. He then glared over at Sokkia again. "How the hell do you know these thing Sokkia? You have some kind of crystal ball? Does your Exeter have a goddamn Druid System!?"

"Simple my dear, dear Sir Leonhardt," Sokkia answered back in mocking niceness. "I myself am a professional athlete, so I know the ins and outs quite thoroughly."

That earned a fair amount of nods from the rest of the gathered, as though they had to be reminded of "Crasher Sokkia's" real calling in life. At least had she not been out there killing Europeans with the rest of them.

Leonhardt could only sneer in response before turning to focus back on the game. One of these days he would win, and he would come to collect. Sokkia would never see it coming…

"Well, well, well," one more voice entered in, though its owner was far less regarded than Tink had been. Even the latter could not help but scowl toward the newcomer, once more in spite of his gentle giant nature. "I see the Glindas continue to live up to their reputation as the second best Britannia has to offer."

Ire toward Sokkia momentarily forgotten, Leonhardt glared at the newcomer. "Will somebody drive a stake through that man's heart already?" he called out. "He's interrupting the game!"

"Oh how funny, Sir Leonhardt," Luciano resounded blandly. "As well as original too."

"Dare I ask what you're doing here Sir Luciano?" Sokkia inquired as well, as put off by the Vampire of Britannia's presence as the rest. "Shouldn't you be out burning a village somewhere? Or maybe fighting Abraham Van Helsing?"

"Or fighting some bitchy werewolf over a Mary Sue?" Leonhardt jabbed again.

"That one was a little better," Luciano nodded as he came over to one side of the room – where nobody was presently – and promptly sat down. "No, I'm afraid both my burning and my bloodsucking are done for the day, and I am set to retire to my coffin. But before I do, I was curious toward all the yelling and screaming on Sir Leonhardt's part," he pretended to frown in disappointment. "Imagine my utter lack of surprise."

"Sorry, but not all of us get our jollies through bloodshed Sir Luciano," Leonhardt responded back, this time with accusation. Though the Knight of Ten was not nominally under Princess Marrybell's command – being a Round and all – there was no secret as to why he was hanging around the Far Eastern Theater to begin with. After all, somebody had to do the sacking in places like Kansk and Nazarovo, and that somebody was most certainly not any of the Glinda Knights. "Sometimes we mortals want to get away from that, if only for a little while."

"Heh, yes, that would be what you 'mortals' would want, wouldn't it?" Luciano retorted, then shrugging. "Well, no matter I suppose. As long as none of you get in my way, you may indulge in your pointless drivel."

The Knight of Ten then flicked one of his throwing daggers out in the open for all to see. "At the same time however, you're all welcome not to get in my way," he said, actually running his tongue along the edge. "Though I would imagine your odds would be even less than Sir Leonhardt's for this game."

With that, the Knight of Ten turned and left – or perhaps drifted – from whence he came. Leaving the rest of the lounge occupants to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Someone is going to get that freak one day," Leonhardt growled after a brief moment of silence. "And he or she is going to enjoy it immensely."

"I sure hope so," Sokkia said, visibly mellowed out from the encounter. The fight to Moscow was bloody enough without having to be continuously reminded of what they were leaving in their wake. And it would only get even bloodier as they move closer to their intended destination. Goddamn this war…

Tobruk, Libya, Britannian Empire

Not much longer, Rommel thought as he veered out from his cover, firing a barrage from his left blitzvulkan as he went. Indeed, as more Sutherlands and a Gloucester fell before him, he could almost feel it against his skin. The battle was winding down, the Britannians faltering on every level. Just a little more and Tobruk would be in European hands again.

Still, that didn't mean the enemy was going to give up the city without further conflict, so Rommel continued to do one of the things he did best, putting more power into his landspinners as he drove the Koenigsloewe into the next enemy formation, his escort doing well to follow but not to engage unless commanded or attacked. Once more machine gun bullets and grenades rained around him, to which the Desert Lion weaved his machine in a standard evasive zig-zag pattern, none of the projectiles so much as grazing his knightmares armor. In the process he redrew his blitzschwerts, coming upon one of the attacking Sutherlands mere moments later, to which he cleaved it down as with so many others. Its partner then tried to move in from behind, stun tonfas extended, but Rommel easily spun and bifurcated that knightmare as well, the cockpit ejecting as the upper half fell groundward. Then came another Gloucester, lance set to impale, to which Rommel proceeded to both evade and cleave one of his blitzschwerts through the lance, which split down the middle like cut fruit. The enemy knightmare could only drop the destroyed weapon and flee, only to be done in by a slash harken.

No sooner than when the Gloucester fall did more enemy signals appear on Rommel's monitor. He couldn't help but grin. Britannians were nothing if not tenacious…

None of the signals reached him however, as a sudden wave of energy launched out, cleaving the street and several buildings as it surged between the European and Britannian KMFs. Leaving behind a large gash across the ground.

"Was zur Hölle!?" Rommel cursed as he reversed the Koenigsloewe, narrowly evading another such surge. Out of instinct he twisted his machine around and fired another burst from his right vulkan. He hadn't had time to aim however, and even if he did, his opponent moved much faster than any Sutherland, dodging right and then driving straight forward, its very elaborate sword brought to cleave. Rommel was just able to cross his blitzschwerts together to deflect the oncoming attack, right before proceeding to throw back the enemy knightmare. He would have followed up with a counterattack, but the Britannian machine was quicker in its withdrawal, moving back some distance. Seemingly so that it could face down the Koenigsloewe with its own flaring mono-eye.

"What do we have here?" Rommel heard a voice he recognized all too well speak over the radio. "A wayward lion that remains bound to Kessler's leash?"

A sneer crossed Rommel's face at those words. "Wilhelm," he growled the name with utmost hate. "Or I suppose it's Sir Wilhelm now."

"Indeed," Sir Wilhelm Sibrand, Knight of Eleven and Krieger of Britannia, proclaimed as he gazed over the Koenigsloewe with bemused interest. "It's been too long, hasn't it Joachim?"

"Not long enough," Rommel almost spat, palpable outrage emerging toward the traitor's presence. He wasn't so overcome, however, that he did not take note of his apparent adversary's machine, which, even with the aforementioned mono-eye sensor, was not standard Britannian design.

If anything, the enemy knightmare could have passed for a European KMF, again mono-eye notwithstanding. Though shaped like a medieval knight as one would expect, it appeared less like one of Emperor Arthur's minions and more like a Teuton set for crusade. Its body was molded with an elaborate set of armor, rounding out to an elaborately helmed headpiece that possessed a cross-shaped visor – from which the red mono-eye shone through – and an even more non-Britannian pickelhaube. Its only visible weapons were a very large, very ornate sword – which, if Rommel wasn't mistaken, looked like a somewhat smaller version of the infamous Excalibur – as well as a diamond shaped shield in its opposite hand. The hips also appeared to mount slash harkens, again not unlike a European machine. All culminating in a grey, black and red color scheme.

"Interesting machine," Rommel couldn't help but comment. "Don't tell me that was your thirty pieces of silver."

Wilhelm merely laughed at the notion. "Knightmare Frame Griflet," he proclaimed rather proudly. "Certainly one of the larger benefits of being among the Emperor's chosen. But no, it's hardly the whole of my thirty pieces."

"I'm sure," Rommel sneered again as he readied himself for the coming battle. It appeared Tobruk would not fall so easily after all. Especially if there were more like Wilhelm out…

"I'm not here to fight Joachim," Wilhelm proclaimed. To make it a point, he withdrew his sword and replaced it on his back module. "That was not my mission."

"Oh?" Joachim questioned, though neither he nor his escort, which had since moved beside him with blitzgewehrs or blitzschwerts at the ready, dared lower their guard. "You're just going to let us take Tobruk like that?"

"I am," Wilhelm confirmed rather easily. "If His Highness Prince Raymond cannot defend his territory properly, then it is not the Rounds' obligation to save it for him."

That strangely made sense, Rommel couldn't help but feel. After all, the Rounds did answer to the Emperor directly, such that not even princes and princesses held any authority over them. "If that's the case, then why are we talking?"

"Simple Joachim. I am here to deliver a warning of sorts," Wilhelm explained. "You may yet retake Africa from us, and perhaps even drive our forces out of Europa proper," he declared enigmatically. "However, I promise you, the real krieg has just begun."

Somehow Rommel felt there was more to those words than what was apparent. Was Wilhelm somehow aware of Lelouch's plans to invade Britannia itself? A possibility, but the European general also felt that this warning could have alluded to even more.

"You best prepare yourself Joachim," Wilhelm stated. "Nothing will be the same after this one."

"Uh-huh," Rommel exclaimed dubiously enough. He then had the Koenigsloewe assume a combat pose. "Perhaps you'll shed more light on this after I bring you in."

"You may try," Wilhelm stated, having the Griflet assume a pose with its shield out front.

At that, the Koenigsloewe went into its full charge, swords ready slash. It never made it close however, as the Griflet's shield suddenly split to reveal a set of missile launchers, three projectiles immediately firing. Having anticipated that, Rommel easily banked his machine left to evade, only for the three missiles to detonate in a simultaneous flashbang. By the time Rommel was able to see again, Griflet and its turncoat devicer were gone.

"Auf Wiedersehen, Joachim," Wilhelm's voice again beamed over the radio, much to Rommel's irritation. "Let us meet again upon the hill."

Again Rommel felt uncertainty to those words, as though they alluded to something he should have known, but could not recognize. Unfortunately however, he didn't have time to do any of that. The Battle of Tobruk was still ongoing, and though the Britannians were on the ropes, they had yet to be properly defeated.

Thus espousing one last sneer, Rommel turned the Koenigsloewe around and sped down the avenue, the three Loewes of his escort following along.

Urasoe Castle
Urasoe, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic

Though not quite past the dateline, it was still getting late and Lelouch was starting to feel the need to turn in. Perhaps it was for the best, he mused as he again sat in front of a chessboard, the various black and white pieces arranged in his imaginary game. Operation Fubuki was just over a day away, and he would need plenty of rest before its execution. Likewise, he had the feeling he had planned it out as much as he could, even though he felt as though he could still do that much more with it. A feeling he always had with his plans during the final hours; he had long learned to ignore the feeling, as he knew that it would never be assuaged.

He probably would have gotten up from the couch at that point when he heard the door click open, causing him to look up. He wasn't surprised to see Kallen enter; only she and C.C. could open that door without requiring his permission, and as his Knight of Zero, Kallen was charged with his personal protection, so it was only natural she come to check on him at this time. At least, that's what he initially assumed, until Kallen took a few steps into the room – an unreadable expression on her face as she gazed toward him – only to up and turn to one of the nearby side rooms. She entered that, and the door click closed once again.

Though odd, Lelouch paid it little mind and instead focused back on the chessboard. By now he had gone over Fubuki so much he could almost feel Alexandra Land's tundra against his fingertips. Surely he had accounted for everything; the technology gap between the Eildons and the Black Knights, the possible presence of Jeremiah Gottwald or his clone, alongside V.V. own possible interference. Surely there was nothing else he could have…

He frowned as he heard Kallen reenter the room. Need not having to look up to see that she was no longer in uniform. Or any other article of clothing for that matter. "We can't keep doing this Kallen," he began, somehow managing not turn toward her. "We…"

"I know Lelouch," Kallen answered back as she moved toward him regardless, slowly and gently making Lelouch lay back against the couch as her body came over his. Her sapphire eyes glistening as she once more stared into his amethyst, projecting feelings of want and need. "I know we can't."

"So why?" Lelouch questioned regardless of his position. Or the fact that, seemingly against its master's will, one hand reached up to stroke a teardrop from Kallen's right cheek.

Smiling at the contact in spite, Kallen reached her own hand up to hold his to her skin for a little bit longer. "I suppose I'm being selfish with this," she said, somehow keeping from looking away. "But I'm scared Lelouch."

The former prince could only blink at the confession as Kallen elaborated. "We're about to face an enemy that killed you once before," she murmured, actual fear starting to reach the surface. "An enemy that I could not protect you against."

"That wasn't…" Lelouch began to say it wasn't her fault, but Kallen softly gestured for him to silence. Lelouch complied.

"Regardless," Kallen continued to speak. "I'm scared of what we will find out there. I'm scared of what we will fight out there."

Those blue eyes glistened even more, just as her voice lowered into an anxious whisper. "And I'm scared of losing you again," she finally said. "More than you will ever know."

A long silence soon moved between them, as though the words themselves had remained. Both Prince and Knight gazing into the other, once more projecting very apparent feelings they had yet to speak of in the open.

Sighing, Kallen closed her eyes. "One more night," she again spoke in near confession. "All I ask is for one more night. One more night…" she almost trailed off, but managed to bring herself back. "Where I can love you."

Lelouch said nothing, though deep within, he felt a very familiar part of himself begin to stir. The same part himself that registered the Guren Nishiki in Libya, drove him to dance with the enigmatic Kallen Stadtfeld, Baroness of Charlotte at the Emperor's Jubilee. The very thing that drove him to fear losing her as well, as he had watched her battle with Hannibal's Ghost.

"Is…?" Kallen began to question, now unsure if she had spoken beyond her place. "Is that too much to…?"

Rather than answer verbally, Lelouch closed his eyes as he reached with one hand toward her back, the other stroking more tears away from her face. The latter eventually falling to Kallen's chest, causing a low, mirthful cry to escape her lips.

"Lelouch…" Kallen whispered in subdued relief, having received the answer she wanted. From that, she lowered her head down to kiss him, which Lelouch could only respond to in kind. Their respective nightmares driven far away – at least for the time being – as they had that one final night between them. All before the day of the great storm.