Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass or any of its canon characters.

AN: So I finally got around to watching the 3 recap/retcon movies, and the result was...surprising. I liked most of the changes, and the new scenes were really good. However, WAY too much was cut to fit the series into 3 movies. It was painful at times, and character development suffered, at least for the ones that didn't get the axe at the neck. I'd say they're definitely worse than the original in most respects. The most redeeming quality is that it all leads to the ending of Resurrection, which, while not as technically brilliant as the ending of R2, was as close to perfect as I could ask for.

2000 Hours, 20 September, 2017 ATB

Ashford Academy, Tokyo Settlement, Area 11

Shirley Fenette plopped down on her bed face first in what would have been a dramatic fashion, had anyone been there to see her. She was exhausted at the end of another long, tough day. She rolled over onto her back before she let herself pass out in that pose. It wouldn't do to have her room mate come back to find her face down on the bed, still in her uniform, splayed out like the centerpiece of a crime scene.

Staring up at the ceiling, she took a deep breath, finding a moment of calm in the whirlwind her life had become in recent months. She had done her best to bottle it up, but she was still reeling from the pace of change thrown her way.

The Ashford Academy Student Council, which had for over two years comprised her best friends, had been scattered. Milly had gone off to start her huge company, taking Rivalz along as her ever faithful secretary, now especially loving boyfriend. Shirley was still secretly jealous. Not about Rivalz specifically, but she had seen up close and personal how insanely devoted and loyal he was to her former president. She would have been glad to perform ritual sacrifices if it would get her a guy that good.

Clare, once known as the Ice Princess of Ashford to the male student population, had in fact been a real princess in some kind of exile for years, and was now literally running the country. That still hadn't fully sunk in yet.

That, combined with all of the other larger than life stuff that had happened in the last year left Shirley feeling in a bit of a daze. What was that term she had heard for it once, where a person suffers an overload of extraordinary events to the point that they have trouble grasping their magnitude? Shock saturation? 'Oh, she's actually a princess and just took over the government with a secret army. OK, so what's for lunch?'

Shirley couldn't blame them for leaving her behind at school. The one thing being a princess or a countess did not provide, was an abundance of spare time. They had an enormous amount of important stuff to do that didn't include budgeting time to spend with a commoner student athlete. She knew it wasn't that simple; either Milly or Luna would probably find a way to make some time for her if she asked, but she didn't want to burden them.

She had no special skills that put her on the same level as those two. Sure, she could certainly out swim or out run either of them, but that wouldn't make her any more helpful.

In the time since they left, she had taken up running with the school's track club. It didn't take her long to rise to the top five, with her powerful heart and formidable lower body strength from years of swimming. She was at the point where she was actually thinking of taking up the offer to ditch the new student council and join the track team officially.

Running had also brought her to make some new friends. Princess Euphemia and Suzaku were still a regular sight at the school, although no longer on the council due to increased responsibilities. Shirley found herself joining them on the track. The pair always ran together, either on the school's actual track, or laps around the building the ASEEC used.

Shirley had been a bit uncomfortable doing the latter for the first time, as she wasn't a soldier, employee, or some sort of government official. Euphie saw right through her worries and sorted that out in a hurry.

After a few weeks, Shirley found herself in the strange position of voluntarily getting out of bed at 0430 to go do morning PT with the unit's military personnel. She loved the challenge of it, having to push herself to keep up with trained soldiers. She had always loved athletics, but now it began to fill in some of the void left by the shake up after Prince Clovis's death.

She hadn't been too close to Suzaku or Euphemia before, but now she was getting there, and they seemed happy enough to have her around. Two was less than three, but it was still better than where she had been six weeks earlier.

As Shirley lay there on the dorm bed, body sore and mind drained, she smiled at the ceiling. She still missed the happy, almost care free school days of her life before with the old student council, and would for a while longer. What she dearly missed was the power and influence of Milly Ashford.

She had never fully appreciated it while it was around, so pervasive and ever present was the blonde's presence. While she still had friends and contacts in some very high places, none of them were part of the student body. She was now in the driver seat for her last year at the school, success or failure entirely in her own hands. That was one part liberating, two parts terrifying. All the more so because Ashford had recently acquired a controversial new teacher, and she had signed up for his class.

0800 Hours, 21 September, 2017 ATB

Ashford Academy, Tokyo Settlement, Area 11

Kaname Ohgi felt a strange mix of deja vu and FUD coursing through him as the operation start time grew nearer. By 'operation start time', he had to remind himself, he meant the start of the school day. It had been over eight years since he had acted as a teacher in any official capacity. For all of that time, his life had been consumed by trying to keep his friends and allies alive in a deadly game of asymmetric warfare against the might of Britannia's armies.

The Shinjuku breakout notwithstanding, he had done a damn good job of it. Their group had lost a lot of people to make that desperate last ditch plan work, but as his mind tried to justify the move by clinging to any scrap of good news it could find, the core members had made it out. Cold and callous it may be, but the deaths of relative strangers hurt a whole lot less than those with closer, longer ties.

But all of that was in the ancient past now, at least in terms of how it felt. His seven years of somewhat civilized armed resistance against the empire had somehow ended up earning him the unique opportunity to be the first Japanese teacher in a Britannian private school.

Why this was actually real life, and not some crazy fever dream, he could not nail down. He still half expected to wake up from it every once in a while.

When he and Kallen accepted Luna vi Britannia's offer, the resistance group they led were all given choices of where to go and what to do that would be acceptable to the princess. It sounded like a rough deal until they got to see the specifics, at which point they unanimously realized they were the luckiest bunch to ever raise their weapons against Britannia.

Kallen had gone off to pilot an experimental knightmare frame for Ashford Heavy Industries, to her endless delight. The princess had seen her talent, and wanted to get the most out of it. Ohgi had secretly feared that despite what had been said, she would just throw Kallen at her enemies like a rampaging berserker. Now, not only was his friend safer than she had been in years, but she had access to far better weapons and a real support structure. Gone were the days of her rolling into battle at the controls of an amateurly maintained outdated machine.

Tamaki and Inoue were going to open an izakaya together in Shinjuku as part of a local reconstruction project, although as the latter frequently pointed out, they were in business together, not in bed together. Ohgi would never forget the look on Tamaki's face when actual royalty promised to stop by when they opened up.

Meanwhile, Nakata had enlisted in the IJA, and was up in Hokkaido at accelerated basic training for recruits with prior combat experience, which were rather common in modern Japan. He still had plenty of fight in him, and jumped at the chance to try his hand at being a trigger puller in a real army. He wasn't a fanatic, or particularly bloodthirsty, but he was the only one of the group that truly preferred life as a resistance fighter. He would probably make a good soldier.

Sugiyama, Minami, and Yoshida had also opted to join the IJA as a part of Luna's deal, however Nakata had been the only one to go infantry. Given the choice, as they all had been, Minami and Sugiyama had opted for the army's air wing, and both were aboard the Hiryu for their training to join the huge airship's crew. Yoshida had chosen armor, instead of going along with the rest. He was learning everything there was to know about the Type 14 MBT at the IJA's Narita base, which was now significantly more active as the largest established base on Honshu.

As for Ohgi himself, he requested a posting straight to depths of hell. At least, that was what it was assumed it would be for him, surrounded by still somewhat hostile Britannian kids at a private academy for the rather well off in imperial society. Not the true upper crust, but not that far beneath it. Thus, Ohgi found himself in the semi impossible position of trying to run the first Japanese language class in a Britannian school.

Unfortunately for him, there was little to go on in the way of precedent. The only real source of Britannian schooling for languages not of European origin was their military and intelligence agencies. He had no access to those, not that it would have mattered since almost everyone attending those courses were military officers or intelligence analysts, not young students.

Still, he was going to give it his best shot. After all, didn't Princess Luna, their new imperial overlord, say she wanted to build bridges, not demolish them? At least more of the former than the latter. Ohgi knew this was going to be an uphill fight, but how hard could it really be to teach kana and some basic vocabulary? His first iteration of this was going to be as close to fail proof as he could possibly make it. Successful students were happy students, and that's what he needed on this first run.

0930 Hours, 23 September, 2017 ATB

AHI R&D Complex, Tokyo Settlement, Area 11

Kallen Kouzuki turned the last corner back to the knightmare bay where her Guren Nishiki was docked. To say it was "hers" was a bit misleading, but she liked to think of it that way. In actuality, the knightmare frame itself was owned by Ashford Heavy Industries, of which its creator was an employee. Still, Kallen was a critical component of the whole weapons system, given how much effort had been put into optimizing it for her use.

Normally, there was little activity around the crimson machine, aside from general maintenance efforts. This time, however, the Guren was engulfed in a swarm of technicians and engineers. Even at a glance, she could tell that they were doing something not insignificant to it. A quick scan, and Kallen found the one person she suddenly wanted to see there: Rakshata Chawla.

The Indian woman was quite easy to pick out of the crowd, given the contrast between her dark skin and pale blonde hair. That, and the long pipe she always carried, even if it wasn't lit. She would know everything about what was in progress, since nobody would dare open up the Guren without her approval.

"Ah, Kallen, I was hoping you would join us." She noticed her approach.

"What's going on?"

"Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have a super power?." She asked, twirling her pipe.

"Super powers?" Kallen asked. "What, like some kind of magical girl?"

"Hmm…" Rakshata looked as if she was contemplating something. "Kallen, what do you know of my background?"

"Not much." She admitted. "Only that you're some kind of genius scientist." That got a hrumpf out of her, as if being called a genius was somehow sub par.

"Before I tried my hand at developing knightmare frames, I was fascinated by the field of medical cybernetics. Still am, really. What few, even today, realize is just how much knowledge of that field can be applied to knightmare frames." Rakshata explained. She took a pull on her unlit pipe, wishing Her Bitchiness Countess Ashford hadn't been so insistent on enforcing a smoking ban. Tyrant of a woman. She continued.

"In the case of cutting edge prosthetic limbs, the recipient controls their new appendage by way of a direct link to the existing biological nervous system, as well as a brain wave interface, to make it feel as natural as if they had been born with it. That technology took decades to develop for medical use, but thus far nobody has attempted to militarize it."

"Until now?" Kallen finished for her, wondering where this was going. Did she have some plan to make cyborg soldiers or something crazy like that? Rakshata grinned at her.

"Did you know, Kallen, that the average human reaction time to external stimuli is between 15 to 25 milliseconds? Electrical signals actually move quite slowly through the body's biological wiring. You're a bit faster, that was easily determined from data collected by the Guren. Now imagine being twice as fast, or perhaps even more."

"Faster reaction time?"

"Yes. Let's assume for a moment that both you and some arbitrary opponent think at the same speed. Let's also assume that you're in similar machines. Now imagine that you can execute commands twice as fast as he can; that you could be launching an attack or evading a strike before the signals even reach his muscles."

"That sounds like a super power. At least in combat." Kallen admitted.

"Mmm Hmm. Now, as we're busy talking about it, I'm having the Guren upgraded to be able to do it. It's going to take a lot of calibration, but ideally, you'll be able to move the Guren's body faster than your own." She explained.

"How's that going to work?" Kallen was now genuinely intrigued by what she was hearing.

"With the new setup, the Guren will read your brain waves and electrical responses at the source as they are generated. The system will then translate them into commands for the Guren's OS, and execute faster than the same signal can make it from your head to your fingers. The lag between thought and action will be reduced so far that the human brain can barely register it.

How it will feel in practice is anybody's guess. Perhaps like some kind of super speed, or maybe you'll feel normal, and the rest of the world will feel slower. It's hard to say, since this technology has never been applied to a knightmare frame before."

"Lucky me." Kallen muttered at the idea of being Rakshata's guinea pig.

"Lucky you indeed, once we get the system calibrated and the predictive algorithms attuned to you. Now let's get you suited up."

Five minutes later, Kallen was looking at a brand new pilot suit. It was externally similar to the one she had been wearing, but her eyes quickly spotted some subtle differences. Getting into the new version introduced a few more.

This new pilot suit was still a zip up one piece design, but she was immediately surprised by it. Despite weighing more than the previous model, it felt lighter. Actually, it felt better all around her body than her old one did. The internal layer matched temperature with her skin in seconds, after which she could barely feel it. Extra support and padding in key areas was also immediately noticeable.

"It should be a perfect fit." Rakshata told her. Kallen figured she was probably heavily involved in the design of these suits in addition to the knightmare frames themselves.

"How did you manage to make it feel better than my old suit?" She asked the scientist.

"The short version is that we modified the design after extensive review of a combination of Guren's cockpit data and microscopic wear and pressure analysis of the previous model. User comfort was a priority, but as you well know, there wasn't a whole lot we had to do on that front. No, the real improvements are the ones you can't see or feel. What you were wearing before was effectively just an inert prototype. This is the real one, which is a test of the less advanced version of the technology."

"Wait, there's more than one version of this system?" Kallen asked, now wondering just what exactly she was being volunteered for. Rakshata nodded as she played with her pipe.

"Think about the Guren as compared to the Gekka." Rakshata said. "I designed both of them, and they share many common elements, but the Guren is special; you could never mass produce that level of quality. The same concept applies here.

There are two versions that we will be testing simultaneously, which will provide the best comparison between each system's performance and what the Guren's manual controls receive.

The first, and most powerful, is a brain interface that reads and interprets your brain waves to send commands before the electrical signals to move your body even fully form. The high performance prototype, if you will.

Your new suit houses components of the second prototype. This version reads and interprets the electrical signals in your brain stem, and sends commands to the OS before the signals even reach your muscles. It's not as fast as the first version, but we may be able to mass produce it as there's less individual variation in the human nervous and muscular systems than the brain."

Kallen listened as she went on for another half hour with technical details of her new interface system. She couldn't claim to understand more than a third of it, but if it worked as described it would be a revolution in combat. After all, superconducting sakuradite fibers were so much faster than human nerves it wasn't funny. The best part of this test project was more grounded to her: she would be spending far more time with the Guren than in the last few weeks. And so Kallen learned that some surprises could be good surprises.

0120 Hours, 25 September, 2017 ATB

HMS Deucalion, Tokyo Settlement, Area 11

With a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh, Cornelia li Britannia rested her head in her hands. It was well after midnight in Tokyo, yet she clearly hadn't had enough of this frustrating exercise. She was still wearing most of her uniform, albeit unbuttoned, and ran a hand through her frazzled hair as she sat up straight again.

Although she showed none of it at the time, being inside that massive ship, Hiryu, had knocked something loose in her confidence. Even now, in her quarters aboard the Deucalion, she could not shake just how overly impressive the whole thing had been. It wasn't just big, it was a technological leap forward that put a timer on warfare as she had grown up to know it. What were battery powered airships or land armies before such a monster of the sky that never needed to rest?

To take her mind off it, she had dived head first into other matters that all required some measure of her attention. One, however, inevitably rose to the top and held it against all challengers: her conversation with Luna atop the palace gardens. She had challenged her to find a ghost, a person that had used the chaos of the Emblem of Blood to fake their own death and assert dominance over a secret society. A secret society which, if her sister was to be believed, was the death of Empress Marianne.

Thus, she had spent the last fourteen hours digging through everything she could find on the subject, from public knowledge, to actual secrets, searching for a specific needle in a bombed out needle factory. All she had to show for it at this early hour was frustration and exhaustion. Suddenly, a heavenly scent reached her nose, and she perked up.

"Coffee?" Her favorite one man relief force appeared, armed with two gently steaming mugs. He placed them down before her, and pulled up a chair. The princess grabbed the nearest one, brought it to her lips, and found the dark liquid to be just right.

"I love you, my perfect knight." She leaned over and rested her head on his right shoulder. In return, Guilford gathered up her hair and returned it to some measure of order behind her.

"What can I do to help?" He asked. Of course, he wished she would give it a rest for a few hours at least, but he knew she would not surrender. This was as much a battle as if the problem were shooting at them, and she would see it through.

"I've come up with thirty one names that could potentially be the one Luna spoke of." She told him.

"That many?"

"Indeed. Despite how recent it was, records of the time are far from accurate. Almost every action is told in contradicting accounts from multiple angles, and unraveling truth from propaganda or outright fiction is turning out to be a bloody mess."

"There has to be a way to narrow it down."

"Are there any with a direct connection to Empress Marianne, or His Majesty?"

"Twenty." She replied, staring at her own list. She was getting angry just looking at it. One of the people those names represented held the answers to a mystery that had defined her life. She wanted, no, she needed to know.

Suddenly, Cornelia felt the flame die out, and a wave of calm descend. Guilford had taken it upon himself to start combing her hair with his fingers, something he knew from experience always made her relax. In the next few moments, exhaustion caught up with her, and already resting her head on her knight, Cornelia drifted off.

"Rest." He whispered to her. Once he was sure she was out, Guilford carefully picked her up and carried her off to bed in the quarters they shared. He pulled a blanket up to her neck, gave her a peck on the forehead, and went back to her desk. Unlike his depleted princess, he still had a bit of energy left in reserve. Using that energy to review her work could very well find something a tired mind had missed.

At least, he would try his best to. There was nothing he would not do for Cornelia li Britannia. Guilford had long come to terms with the fact that the overpowering combination of love, loyalty, and endless devotion he felt for her would lead him down a tough road. He got to work with a tenacity that only a true knight could summon.

1425 Hours, 28 September, 2017 ATB

Pendragon, Britannia

"I think we've found her."

Marianne's head snapped up at those words. Well, it was actually Guinevere su Britannia's head, but that was splitting another woman's hairs. The former empress still missed her original body, even though Guinevere's form was in no way deficient. She would hate to have to fight with it though. Too many sexy curves and not enough hard muscle.

"CC?" She asked like a little girl on Christmas morning. Julius Kingsley grew a grin beneath his striking violet eye.

"Right in the heart of Area 11." He told her.

"Are you sure?"

"Can you think of any other mysterious woman with long green hair that would order from every pizzeria in Tokyo?" The grin became a smirk.

"You tracked her down with pizza? Really?" Marianne asked, the amusement clearly showing on her face. Sometimes, dumb luck resulted in rare moments like this.

"Coincidentally. That was not at all what I was trying to do, but it all just...sort of came together." He said, his face clearly telling that he thought it was just as crazy as it sounded.

"How, exactly, did you manage to pull this off?" Marianne asked.

"One of my agents stationed in the Area 11 colonial government building reported an unusual frequency of pizza deliveries passing through security. A closer inspection revealed that they were all going through one specific checkpoint that led toward the private elevator into the palace on the upper floors. I had him chat up one of the guards, and discovered it was due to a 'girl with green hair' that orders every day. The guards themselves know little about her, only that she lives there, and has ever since Luna took over." Kingsley reported.

"She's in the palace?" Marianne asked with a sudden jolt of dreadful anxiety. She already knew the answer, but she just wanted him to confirm it. Julius nodded.

"If she's living in the palace, then it's virtually guaranteed that she's had some form of contact with your daughter. Exactly what that may be, we could only speculate on at this point."

Marianne shuddered at the thought. It had been almost a decade since she had last seen CC in person. They had been close once. That was a given, since she had formed a contract with the witch, but it had gone farther than that at times. Especially once Charles began to lose interest in her, in favor of his new younger women. Those were good days, right up until they weren't.

CC had been on board with the plan in the beginning. However, cracks formed in their alliance rather quickly. The tension built for years, until one day, she went out for a slice and never came back. By abandoning the Geass Order, and their plan, she had thoroughly betrayed them in pursuit of her own selfish wish that would take who knows how many decades to realize. It was shortly after her disappearance that Marianne had chosen to make her move.

Luna wasn't supposed to get involved at this stage. At least Marianne certainly didn't want it to turn out this way. However, if that disloyal, selfish, backstabbing pizza obsessed bitch was planning to coerce her daughter into using her newfound resources to further endanger the cause, some hard choices had to be made. Marianne took a deep breath, unconsciously straightened her stolen back, and turned to her partner.

"Julius, I had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but if she's attempting to use my daughter's followers as a means of disrupting the plan, we need to stop her."

Marianne took a deep breath in, and let it out slowly, as the magnitude of what she was about to order sank in. She had to crush Luna's power buildup before it could be used to threaten Ragnarok, specifically her ability to seize control of the thought elevators when the time came.

She didn't even need to consult a map to know that the thought elevator at Kaminejima was now in a precarious position; it was well within range of Luna's forces. If she could deploy a large contingent on that island, taking it would be hellishly difficult given the proximity to her main base on Area 11. But how to prevent that without making the intent obvious?

"May I assume that you still don't want to take direct action against her?" The duke asked.

"That's right. I know you disagree, but please don't argue with me on that point."

"Alright, you win." He conceded.

"However," Marianne continued. "You still need to, at the very least, slow her down. Everything else is fair game." He gave her a halfhearted salute.

"Don't worry. I'll have them tearing each other apart in a week, two at most. If we're lucky, we may even be able to nab CC in the chaos."

"Don't bet on it." Marianne said, knowing just how she could be.

"Oh, I'm not, but it would be nice." They both smiled at the prospect of luck being on their side for once.

1800 Hours, 28 September, 2017 ATB

Excelica Palace, Pendragon, Britannia

Charles zi Britannia, arguably the most powerful man in human history, let out a slow breath as he scanned a map of his world spanning empire. The last year had not gone as he wished it would. Nowhere near it.

He was no fool, nor new to this game. He knew exactly what his rebellious spawn were up to. Schneizel and Guinevere had spent much of the last few years carving out their own power bases within the empire, both in the homeland and in far flung territories. He still held the advantage, both in loyal territory and forces, but for how long, he had to wonder.

In the old world, the great conquests of his most loyal daughter had not expanded without her. Progress in the middle east had stalled just north of Basra. The Germans had finally come to the aid of their MEF allies in force. An entire German army had materialized in the deserts, acting as 'advisers' and 'volunteers' with the MEF. And unlike the Arabs or Persians, the Germans could fight. Even with inferior knightmare frames, and still too reliant on relics of the old ways of war, they had stalled the Britannian advance out of Arabia at the very cradle of civilization. That alone was proof enough of their strength, and more ominously, was a harbinger that the sun was setting on the empire's rapid expansion. Now they would have to fight worthy foes for every kilometer gained.

Not that this surprised Charles. Europeans were the only true equals of Britannians, given their shared ancestry. He had hoped to weaken them by cutting off the supply of fossil fuels they depended on before their democratic governments gathered the will to fully commit to war beyond the scope of southern Spain. While Britannia had mostly succeeded in this goal, their victory was far from complete. The Germans in particular had wised up to the threat in the middle east faster than their French allies. Britannian forces in the region were starting to engage units more German than native, and they didn't break when threatened with Sutherlands and Gloucesters. Without Cornelia's leadership, it had become a bloody quagmire.

Of course, the reason for Cornelia's absence from that front was the utterly insane situation that had developed in the far east. Why, he wondered to himself, did east always lead to more problems? Britannia's conquest of Japan, and its subsequent transformation into Area 11, had been the bloodiest and most troublesome acquisitions in imperial history. Now, it was something of an open question as to whether or not Area 11 was in rebel hands or not.

Normally, discovering that his lost daughter was in fact alive after so many years presumed dead would be a cause for celebration. Instead, she had returned with a powerful army of Elevens, and declared herself ruler of the Area. The only reasons whether or not they were truly rebels was up for debate was that they had not declared independence, commerce and taxes were still flowing, and Cornelia had as of yet not taken any offensive action against them. However, the message she sent was clear: Luna vi Britannia ruled the east.

Charles grunted. He was supposed to be the sovereign of a third of the planet, and on the surface he was, yet he could see his would be heirs carving up his empire while his heart still beat. Even so, Britannia was still a nation of laws and traditions. None had yet crossed the line into open rebellion against the crown. They had bent and strained those rules and traditions, but not outright broken them.

But how to play this? It was a question that gnawed at him. Should he dig in, rally his loyal supporters, and try to crush the upstarts? Or should he pick a side? He had many children, but the choice was between the best. Guinevere, his first born daughter, Schneizel, his greatest son, or Luna, his most relentless. Any of them were capable of ruling the empire and more, but only one would ever do so.

Luna in particular fascinated him more than any other. Unlike Schneizel or Guinevere, she had suffered through a much harder life. Once thought dead in the invasion of Area 11, she had lost everything. But she endured, rising from nothing to lead an army of her own making, by her own will. It impressed him more than he had ever admitted to anyone, even his closest knights. To think that she could command such loyalty from a people that by all rights should hate everything Britannian. Yet they lined up in their hundreds and thousands to join her. It was madness, but the kind of madness that drew even the knowing moth to the flame.

His belief in survival of the fittest was not just trappings and propaganda. Luna was, by the very path that brought her to this day, the most accomplished of his children. However, out of all of them, she had the least loyalty to Britannia. Even Schneizel and Guinevere, the would be usurpers they were, had their wealth and power because of their positions within the empire. They both shared the same ambition to rule the empire for themselves, of that Charles would have bet his life. But Luna? What did his long lost daughter truly want?