Britannia's Children

No plan is perfect. This was an immutable, unescapable fact. No matter how one tried, any plan they crafted would be burdened with some flaw, unforeseen or otherwise. In the case of Lelouch vi Britannia's Zero Requiem, the flaw was thus: he had failed to remember that humans will always hate.

The Zero Requiem was designed to bring peace to the world, ostensibly by focusing their hate on a single person and then ridding the world of that person, Lelouch himself. He indeed succeeded in making most of the world hate him, and when Lelouch, the Demon Emperor, the Bloody Tyrant, the Smiling Devil, was smote by Zero's blade people everywhere did indeed rejoice. For a time, as Britannia relinquished its overseas holdings and began to preach friendship and equality with other nations, it seemed as if all humanity would know peace and happiness, bought by the Britannian Emperor's sacrifice.

But it was not to be.

For while the world indeed hated Lelouch and sought to make sure his ilk would never rise again, they also hated the Britannian Empire, without which the oppression and war of the Emperors would not have been possible. Just as they hated Lelouch vi Britannia, so to did they hate his allegedly vile nation, especially those who had suffered under the yoke of the Area system. With Britannia's new attitude of reconciliation, many saw their chance for revenge.

Gradually, Britannia found itself increasingly isolated, both diplomatically and economically. Few nations wished to have even cool relations with the former empire, now reduced to a principality as part of Empress Nunnally's reorganization. Tariffs were implemented and reparations demanded, mostly after Britannia had disarmed herself willingly in an act of goodwill and allowed its colonies to have their independence. Reduced to the North American continent above the Rio Grande river, Britannia no longer had the resources to operate in a self-sufficient manner. Thus, the tariffs devastated her trade, and the reparations were forced upon her at gun point, for while Britannia had disarmed, the UFN and other polities had not.

It was only as her people suffered and starved while the world watched gleefully, that Nunnally, now merely the sovereign of the Britannian Principality, realized that she had misjudged those who professed to want peace. Any attempts to reverse or reduce the impoverishment of her nation or its inability to defend itself were met with scorn and threats of force from the UFN and the Black Knights, no longer under the control of Zero after they ousted him over his objections to Britannia's treatment and his questionable loyalties with the revelation of a secret marriage to Nunnally. His parting words to the UFN Assembly would prove prophetic:

"What we have is no peace. It is merely an armistice which will not last the century. I have done my best to foster good will and prosperity, but my efforts have been undermined by lesser men. Many have demanded I apologize for my refusal to go along with the criminal treatment of a sovereign and proud nation, but I will offer no apologies except to those children too young to understand what is happening and to those yet unborn. For it is they who will pay for the consequences of our actions today, and for many it will be the ultimate price."

True to Zero's words Britannia simmered and seethed with resentment. Not only for the memory of what had been taken from them not by battle and war but through trickery and malice, but for the scorn and insult that the world heaped and heaped upon the memory of one of Britannia's most beloved Emperors. For while he was known as a tyrant to much of the world, in the Britannian homeland and in many of the former colonies he was known as Lelouch the Liberator, the champion of the Numbers and the scourge of noble privilege and corruption. Quite a few of Britannia's former territories longed for reunification with the homeland, having been promised freedom and economic growth upon release but instead finding famine and poverty as the world turned a blind eye to their suffering, not willing to foot the bill to feed these young nations.

Thus, what had been the richest nation in the world was excluded from the new economic order, left to rot as punishment for crimes committed by their forefathers. Across the world the very image of the St. Darwin's cross was criminalized. Britannians who emigrated in search of a better life and those who had lived abroad for generations were treated with scorn and even actively discriminated against in areas such as Japan, where hatred of the old empire was hottest.

Britannia endured this situation for two decades, hoping fervently for their chance to come again, for a leader and savior on par with Lelouch the Liberator to come to their aid. They had tried forgiveness and friendship with the world once, and after the calamities and insults which had been heaped upon her Britannia would never trust the world again. Every night, former nobles and soldiers of the empire prayed for the chance to take up arms again to avenge their home, and subjects toasted Emperor Lelouch in taverns and parlors when the foreigners weren't looking.

Britannia's chance at revenge would come, ironically, at a time when she was ostensibly most vulnerable. For in the year 2039 A.T.B., the Sovereign Nunnally vi Britannia was on her deathbed. While she had a son, he had not been named heir to the throne for reasons unfathomable to everyone not informed of the true situation of the royal family. Many feared that upon her death, Nunnally's refusal to name a direct heir would plunge the country into chaos. But this was not to be.

For just as Lelouch had unwittingly thrown Britannia to the wolves, so too would he provide the means of its salvation.

April 15th, 2039 A.T.B.

The impending death of the sovereign had put the whole nation of Britannia into a fit of hysterical mourning. Nunnally vi Britannia, for all that she had presided over the lowest point of Britannia's fortunes, was a monarch looked upon with fondness and adoration by the masses. Not only was she the sister of the Liberator, but she had done her best to lessen the sufferings of her people, and in many ways had suffered with them.

Lying in her bedchambers, the sovereign met her coming demise with remarkable composure. She managed to still smile the same smile that had won the loyalty and love of her subjects, and she still carried the quiet strength that had let her endure the insults heaped upon her and her nation with dignity. Zero, her loyal consort, stayed by her side constantly, along with their son the Prince William.

Many came by the sovereign's bedside to pay their last respects or to express their sorrow at her passing. The political elites expressed equal remorse and sorrow, along with one additional emotion.

"Please, your majesty, you must name an heir. Prince William may be young, but he is of sound mind and capable. The UFN will smell blood in the water if you pass without a clear successor, and there are those that would use force to take the throne in light of the unclear succession!"

Edward Mountbatten, former Grand Duke of New England, prostrated himself before his dying sovereign, desperate to fix what he and others believed to be an impending disaster. There had been whispers of what would happen if Nunnally died without having declared her son William as heir. Undoubtedly there would be those who believed he should be crowned anyway, but others would attempt to seize the throne for themselves, believing that Nunnally's refusal to name her own son crown prince indicated that she did not believe him fit to rule. And there was the even greater fear that the UFN, always eager to prosper at Britannia's expense, would declare the monarchy null and void and attempt to establish a republic. Nearly all Britannians viewed this as the darkest outcome: so many things had already been taken, and now the monarchy, symbol of their people and curator of Britannia's cultural and political heart, also stood poised to be stolen from them.

For the life of him, Edward Mountbatten could not understand why his sovereign, who in every other aspect of governance had proven to be a capable and gentle ruler, refused to budge on this issue, which everyone viewed to be a fatal mistake. Even the Prince William seemed perfectly at ease, never once raising the issue of his inheritance. Only Jeremiah Gottwald, Captain of the Guards, visibly expressed his sadness at what was happening. He stood in one corner of the room, fulfilling his duties even has he silently wept. Just as he had guarded Empress Marianne and Emperor Lelouch, so too would he guard Nunnally vi Britannia until she finally passed. Edward felt pity for the man; the last living member of the family Jeremiah had sworn his service to was not long for this world, and the man's heart was clearly broken into pieces.

The former Duke turned to his Prince. "Highness, please make your mother see sense! We stand on the brink of invasion and civil war if there is no one to take the crown!"

William simply shook his head, smiling sadly. The boy was remarkably composed, even with the grief he was no doubt going through. It was never easy to lose a parent at sixteen, especially when the world was so hostile to you based on your country of birth. The boy's emerald eyes shimmered as he shook his head. "I cannot. The throne is not mine to take."

Edward gaped incredulously at the royal family, unable to understand their stubbornness in this matter. Before he could protest further, Zero stood. "Lord Mountbatten," he began, earning the noble's attention. "We appreciate your concern in this matter; your urging of William to be named heir indeed shows you to be a true patriot. Were the situation different, my son would be set to sit upon the throne. But he is not first in line to inherit."

"What?" Edward asked, not understanding what they meant. Before he could ask any further questions, there was a knock upon the door. A servant entered and bowed. "Your Majesty, your guests have arrived. They are waiting outside."

"Send them in," Nunnally said, her voice weaker than usual but not wholly diminished. "Duke Mountbatten. I am sure my guests will ease your worries about the succession. Contrary to public perception, it has been secure for some time."

Before he could ask what that meant, the sound of footsteps caught his attention, and before long a small group of people were ushered into the royal bedchamber. Due to the room's large size, Edward did not feel cramped with the additional persons, but nonetheless he found himself captivated.

One of them he immediately recognized as the long missing consort of Emperor Lelouch, appearing to be the same age she had been on the day of her husband's death. He did not recognize those standing behind her, one a man accompanied by what appeared to be his wife and their small child while the other was a woman clad in a uniform of military cut. To Edward's experienced eye, one thing was clear.

Standing before him was royalty.

The man was tall and lean, bearing a striking resemblance to the former Emperor Lelouch. He even had a similar facial structure, and his hair was the same raven color. His eyes gave him away as being a different person, as they were possessed of the same amber color of the Emperor's consort. Beside him the second woman, whom Edward guessed was his wife by the way they stood close together, exhibited the same air of nobility. She was tall and lean like her husband, and possessed long blond hair that was curled in an immaculate style. Her eyes were like sapphires, and were Edward not himself a married man (and undoubtedly at least twice the woman's age) he would have found himself smitten.

Both were dressed in a rich but tasteful manner. The man wore a black three-piece suit with a blue vest and white shirt. A white ascot hugged his neck, and the man looked entirely comfortable and confident in his presentation. A simple gold wedding ring adorned his left ring finger. His wife wore a dazzling blue dress, decorated with strategically placed jewels to catch the light. She wore a small silver necklace with a sapphire, and on her left ring finger a gold wedding band also glimmered. Their infant child was swaddled in blankest and was being held and cooed at by the blonde woman.

The other woman in the ensemble held an equal air of dignity, but as previously mentioned she held a more martial flair. Her uniform was very similar to that worn by the Princess Cornelia in her days as a general, and Edward even spied an ornate but clearly functional rapier strapped the woman's waist. The woman bore more of a resemblance to the consort, but with raven hair and the violet eyes of the royal family. Unlike the rest of the entourage she was more expressive with her grief, clearly holding back tears over what she was witnessing.

Edward took these people in at a glance, and with the words of his sovereign combined with their appearance he had a suspicion as to who they were. He composed himself and gave a formal court bow. "My Lady Cecilia, it has been a… long time. You haven't aged a day."

He thought he heard the Prince Consort suppress a snort, but he studiously ignored it as the lime haired woman smiled wryly at him. "Indeed it has, Lord Mountbatten. It does gladden me to see that you have continued your service to the country even after my husband's passing. Britannia has been in need of good men these past years."

The former consort, Cecilia (for reasons unknown to Edward, neither she nor the former Emperor had shared her name with many, and he did not now what he had done to earn the right to know) looked to the Sovereign and performed a deep curtsy, followed with a bow and curtsies performed by her entourage. "Nunnally… I wish this was under better circumstances. You've been incredibly kind to us."

The Sovereign's face seemed to brighten with joy at the sight of the three people before her, even with her impending death. "C.C.," she said with genuine happiness, and sorrow. "I'm glad I could see you all again. Come closer, let me get a good look at all of you."

The group approached, though Lady Cecilia (C.C.? Was that some sort of affectionate nickname?) made her way to the Prince Consort and exchanged greetings. The other three adults, all with solemn steps and gazes, approached the sovereign. She smiled even brighter as she looked to each one. "Robert. Emeline. Catherine. You are all so grown and beautiful. Lelouch would be proud."

The raven-haired woman, Emeline, choked back a sob. "Auntie…"

Edward's eyes widened, his suspicions from earlier all but confirmed. Suddenly, many more things regarding the family's attitude to the succession made sense.

Nunnally kept her smile, but it was clearly pained. "I am not long for this world. While I am sure this is not what your father would have wanted for you, he is gone, and in the meanwhile our kingdom and people suffer. Robert, come here."

Robert approached the Sovereign, kneeling beside her as he took her hand in both of his. Prince William got up from his chair, giving a small greeting to the man before going to the two women to exchange pleasant words. For his part Robert gazed resolutely at the Sovereign, his face visibly emotional.

"Do you remember the first time we met, Auntie?" he said finally, giving a watery smile.

She giggled. "How could I forget? You were just a boy, but you looked at me with such resolute and strong eyes. Though your greeting left something to be desired."

The man chuckled, somewhat embarrassed. "I remember stuttering over every other syllable. I was in shock over meeting a genuine queen I imagine."

"Yes, a queen," Nunnally said distantly, before her eyes hardened with resolution. "A queen must have an heir to take up her throne when she is gone. From the day that you were born, that heir has been you, Robert. Both by right of succession and merit. Never once have I doubted your ability to rule ably, even as early as your childhood. You may even have the potential to be a greater ruler than your father. But before we discuss that…"

The Sovereign turned towards Edward, causing him to stiffen. "Lord Mountbatten. While you are a trusted servant of the Crown, this is something that needs to be done in private. You will be called for later to verify important documents, but before that allow me some words with my niece and nephew."

"Of course, Majesty," Edward said, bowing at the waist. He directed smaller bows to the now confirmed other royals. "Highnesses, please excuse me."

With that Edward back out of the room, shutting the door himself. He made his way down the hall, hoping to get some refreshment. He really wanted a stiff drink, but as the Prime Minister it would be remiss of him to imbibe alcohol while his duties demanded attention. The bourbon could come later.

Things were about to become very interesting in Britannia, of that there was no doubt.

When the Lord Mountbatten exited the room, Robert looked back to his aunt, allowing his emotions to flow more freely now that only family was here.

"Auntie…" he gasped, tears beginning to escape his eyes. "I'm not sure I'm ready."

"No one is ever ready," Nunnally said, stroking her nephew's hand. "I was only fifteen when I was crowned, and many of our greatest emperors and empresses were scarcely older than that on the day of their ascension. Your father was only eighteen when he took the crown, don't you remember?"

"Yes," Robert whispered, his eyes downcast. This should not be happening, at least not in this way. If the world were fair, he would be having these words with his father, inheriting a rich and strong empire. His aunt would not be on her deathbed, finally succumbing to the stress of holding an impoverished nation together through one of the darkest periods of its history. But the world was not fair, and his people still needed him, unworthy as he was.

"You are worthy of the throne, Robert," Nunnally went on, her grip strong on his hand in spite of her fragile state. "You have your father's courage and skill, and unlike him you have family that will stay by your side no matter the outcome."

His aunt's eyes clouded over, and she seemed lost in thought and some guilt, if only for a moment. After a moment she smiled at him again. "Now, have your sister come here. I want to have words with her as well before we get to the ceremonial bits."

He nodded, standing up from beside the bed to wave Emeline over. He gave his sister's hand a short squeeze as they passed each other, offering what comfort and strength he could. Nunnally had been a solid presence in both their lives, and one of the few tangible links to their father outside of mother. Losing her would be hard, extremely hard. But they would weather it, together.

Emeline took his place at Nunnally's side, her sobs already echoing in the room. Even with her more martial leanings, she had adored her soft-spoken and gentle aunt who was bound to a wheel chair. Robert dared say this would be harder on Emeline than on him.

He made his way to his wife, who was standing with the rest of the royal family now. She quickly kissed him in greeting, her eyes expressing concern. "I know it is hard, love," she said. "I'm here."

Robert nodded, his eyes watery. Catherine could read his mood like few others, and he had a feeling that by tonight she would have coaxed out all of his feelings to help comfort him. He turned to the others, namely the Prince Consort and Prince William.

"Uncle, Cousin," he said with a smile, though it was pained. "I wish it were under better circumstances."

The mask of Zero nodded, the hiding of his face doing nothing to mask his grief at the impending loss of his wife. "All the same it is good to see you Robert. It's good to see all of you."

"I hope the courtiers didn't give you too much trouble?" William asked lightly, attempting to inject some levity into the situation. "They can be sticklers for protocol, that lot."

"I would have liked for them to have tried," his mother said as she ran a hand through her hair, her Cheshire smirk devoid of its usual smugness. "It would have been a good way to remind them of their place."

"Always the terror, aren't you?" Zero said, not feeling in the mood for levity but taking part nonetheless. "Sometimes I wonder how it was Lelouch leading everyone around and not you."

The smirk that Robert's mother shot towards Zero was more familiar to Robert, having that teasing and smug feel he was used to. "Well, a strong man requires a strong woman to support him, no? But it was amusing having the former Duke of Georgia bring pizza to my chambers. I'd do it again just to see the look on Lelouch's face one more time."

"Yes, I remember that," Zero chuckled, shaking his head. "You nearly drove us mad."

They all chuckled, welcoming the brief reprieve from their grief. It was not long lasting, for with a final choked sob Emeline left Nunnally's side and made her way to them from across the room.

"Uncle, William," she said, tears on her cheeks. "She wants to see you."

Zero nodded, placing his hand on William's shoulder. "Come, son."

The two men made their way back to the bed, and this time there was no conversation from the group as they watched.

Zero kneeled at the right side, taking his wife's hand in his after he removed his mask. The aged face of Suzaku Kururugi looked upon his love with tears, finally allowing the sheer grief he felt to surface. At Nunnally's left, William took her other hand, his lip trembling.

The Sovereign of Britannia turned to her son first, her smile one of love and pride.

"William," she said, each syllable crafted with the tenderest love a mother could give. "My son. You do not know how proud I am of you. You are one of the chief joys of my life, and while I have not been as good a parent at times as I could have been, know that I have always, and will always, love you. I could not have asked for a better son. You are kind, gentle, loyal, and brave. Keep these parts of you, my son, and be a rock upon which our people can stand safely. Can you do that for me?"

"Of course, Mother," William answered tearfully. "Anything you ask, I'll do it."

Nunnally nodded before turning to Suzaku, her smile now that of someone gazing upon their lover. "Suzaku… my love. We have been through much, seen so much, and I am grateful that I've had you at my side to share the burden. There were times when we couldn't stand to be in the same room with one another over some trivial thing, but I do not regret a second of the time that I have known you. You are the strongest, bravest, kindest man that I know, and no woman is more fortunate than me who was able to call you husband."

She paused, and just this once the Sovereign of Britannia's façade cracked to reveal the scared woman beneath, who knew she was leaving her family behind before long. She sobbed. "I… I love you so much, Suzaku. I'm s-sorry I'm leaving you now. You know I would have stayed with you as long as possible if I could have, right?"

"I know, Nunnally," Suzaku said tearfully, his smile pained but loving all the same. "I love you too, more than you know. You made my life worth living again when it had become a meaningless existence, and I have never been happier than when I was with you and our son."

The family stayed like that for an indeterminate amount of time, hoping against all hope that if they didn't leave, they could stay that way forever. Alas, reality was not so accommodating. With a last, tear filled goodbye, husband and son left the side of the woman they loved the most. William walked to a window, burying his face in his arm as he sobbed openly. Suzaku gave Nunnally one last kiss, filled with the utmost love and tenderness. He donned the mask of Zero as he left the bedside, but not before Robert saw his tear stained cheeks.

"Jeremiah," Nunnally said, turning towards the teary cyborg who had protected her for decades. "I know your duty is to the ruler of Britannia alone, but please… watch over my family?"

Jeremiah nodded, holding back his own sob. "I swear upon my honor, Your Majesty. No harm will come to them, even if I must sacrifice my life. I am bound to the vi Britannia line, now and forever."

The Sovereign nodded, a grateful smile on her face. "Thank you… now," she said, pushing a button that summoned one of the servants outside. He bowed at the waist as he entered, his face solemn.

"Your Majesty's wish?"

"Summon the ministers," Nunnally said, sitting back into her pillows. "It is time for my last duty as Sovereign."

The summons went out, and within minutes the room was crowded with the important ministers of the Britannian government. The Prime Minister, Lord Mountbatten, stood at the forefront, with the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the Minister of the Interior, the Foreign Office, and the First Lords of the Army and Navy respectively arrayed behind him. They all had their heads bowed.

"You are all wondering, I'm sure," Nunnally began, her voice composed but weak. "Why I have not named an heir even though my son, William, is more than capable of ably leading the realm. The reason is thus: before my brother, the Ninety-ninth Emperor, passed, he was able to lay with his consort and by her conceive two healthy children of able mind and ability. They stand before you now, Crown Prince Robert vi Britannia and Crown Princess Emeline vi Britannia."

Ignoring the shocked gazes of the ministers, Nunnally gestured to one of the servants in the room, who was holding a royal document. "By Imperial Britannian Law, as set down by my forefathers, the firstborn has right of inheritance barring any substantial doubts upon their ability, character, or soundness of mind. This document, signed by multiple witnesses sworn to silence at the time, upholds the legitimate and rightful claim of my brother's firstborn son, Robert vi Britannia, to the throne of his forefathers. That claim is also acknowledged by my own authority, and for the past decade he has been my heir to the Britannian throne. For reasons of safety and security, this was not revealed to the wider public."

The ministers murmured to themselves, though it was in understanding at the lack of a named heir instead of distaste at Robert and Emeline. Lord Mountbatten stepped forward. As part of this ceremony, which they all belatedly realized was a conferment of the authority of the crown, he fulfilled his role as the Prime Minister. "As the sworn Prime Minister of Britannia, I do hereby acknowledge Prince Robert vi Britannia's legal and just claim to the throne. Let my death be ignoble and terrible should I betray him."

With that the Prime Minister gave a stiff bow, and the other ministers followed suit after giving similar oaths. Nunally turned to her nephew.

"Come, Robert."

Robert gulped, his wife giving his hand one last squeeze before he walked to the Sovereign's bedside and knelt upon his knees, this time in subservience to the woman who was his liege.

"By my sole and sovereign right as the mon-as the Empress of the Holy Britannian Empire, I confer upon you, Robert vi Britannia, whose claim stems from his blood relation as my nephew and son of the previous Emperor my brother, the titles, duties, and responsibilities of the Crown. Do you swear upon your honor and blood to defend and uphold this charge?"

"I solemnly swear," Robert intoned, and briefly his aunt smiled.

"Excellent," she said, before without warning she slapped her nephew across the face with a loud smack. No one flinched, as it was part of the ceremony. "That is so you remember this vow."

With that Nunnally pulled the Britannian Imperial Ring from her hand before placing it in Robert's. As their hands were of far different sizes, he would be wearing a different one tailor made for him, but for the purpose of the ceremony he was handed the ring made for his aunt. She pulled him close after putting the ring in his hands.

"I have given you a heavy burden, my nephew. Some would say that I am damning you. But I know that of all those who could sit upon the throne, you alone have the strength of character and genius to see it restored to greatness," she said, pausing before her next words. "Save our people, Robert. They cry out for our aid; they look to our family for protection as they have for generations. I was unable to give them that protection, but where I have failed you can succeed. Restore our nation, make our subjects proud to be Britannian again."

"I will," Robert said, his voice firm as he gripped his aunt's hands. "I swear it."

"Good," she said, smiling at her nephew. "Your father is proud of you, Robert. I know it."

He nodded, not saying anything else for fear that he would break out into a sob. His aunt let go of his hands and bade him stand once again. He turned to the ministers, who, once he was properly crowned before the people, would be his ministers. The thought intimidated him beyond imagining, but he steeled himself.

Father fought against the empire at seventeen, then the rest of the world at eighteen, and still won, he thought. I can – I must – have that same strength now. My country needs it.

"Your Majesty!" the ministers cried, prostrating themselves not to Nunnally, but to Robert. While he was not properly Sovereign until he was crowned, and that would not happen until days after his aunt took her last breath, for all intents and purposes he was now the Sovereign of Britannia.

"Long Live the Emperor!" Jeremiah cried, a cry soon taken up by his family and the servants, guards, and ministers surrounding him, all of them soon falling to their knees before him. Nunnally looked on, her face one of pride. Robert gazed upon each of them, his eyes steeled with determination.

Thus, the One Hundred and First Emperor of Britannia, Robert I, 'the Great', began his rule.

It was one which would see Britannia, and the world, plunged into war to revenge the wrongs of the past.

Author's Note: I'm sure those of you who follow my other story are surprised to see me starting something new. To be honest, this was created in a burst of inspiration (i.e., I pulled an all-nighter typing everything out at once, with no edits or drafts), but it's been something I've thought about for some time and always wanted to give a crack at.

To be frank, I have no doubt in my mind that the Zero Requiem would fail at some point. There's too much bad blood for the world to simply forget everything that happened before Lelouch's death. I can easily see other nations using the UFN to cut Britannia down to size after waiting for her to disarm and being unable to defend herself. That's more or less what happened to Germany at the end of World War I. Thus, we have this little rascal, created from my imagination of what a revisionist Britannia would look like in a post-R2 world.

To clarify, Lelouch in this story is dead. Absolutely, positively, 100% dead. He will not be making an appearance outside of mentions from various characters in the story, and his only contribution to the story is that he fathered two children who are not as enamored with the idea of world peace and utopia as he is. We'll even see some criticism of him, as various characters in the know about what actually happened outline just what they think of Zero Requiem.

With that, I bid you all adieu for now. For those of you wondering about Sonderweg, worry not, I've gotten off my ass and am trying to wrap up the next update. Hopefully it won't be too long before you guys see something on that end.