Updated October 2009: View Author page for further information. Once again, EXPECT LONG DELAYS SINCE I WILL NEED TO COLLECT THE R2 SEASON ONCE AGAIN. PLEASE DO NOT ANTAGONIZE ME WITH PLEAS OF FAST UPDATES. I WILL GET TO IT WHEN I CAN. THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION.

"Research is what I'm doing when
I don't know what I'm doing."

—Wernher von Braun

Summery:

The Black Rebellion has failed; Zero has been vanquished; countless officers and troops of the Order of the Black Knights have been slain or arrested; The United States of Japan has disintegrated and been mercilessly reformed into a newer, harsher Area 11. Yet through all the chaos, what have become of those whose stories are yet unfulfilled?

Kururugi Suzaku, for his bravery and fealty in the capture and defeat of the Black Prince Zero, receives a promotion to the Knights of Rounds, the most prestigious and privileged order in the Empire of Britannia…

Nunnally Lamperouge, in her ever increasing confusion, is stolen away by the Geass-Weaver V.V., advocate of the Emperor himself, and restored to her former title of Princess of Britannia…

Cornelia Li Britannia, full of grief and rage after the fatal defeat of the Black Rebellion, removes herself from all civilization, Hell-bent on seeking out the source of the Geass, the true murderer of her beloved late sister, Euphemia Di Britannia…

C.C., once again defying death, gathers the remainder of the Order of the Black Knights, splintered as it is, to bring back to life the only source of hope left in the darkening world…

As for Kouzuki Kallen and Lelouch Lamperouge…well, their tale is perhaps the queerest and most doomed of all…

Two Hearts of the Same Side

Prologue Chapter: end of the Beginning, and the beginning of the End

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The sun shone brightly above Area 11's most prestigious Britannian private school, Ashford Academy. Upon a terrace overlooking the vast garden stood a lone male student. His ebon black hair waved gently in the fair breeze, tickling the lashes of his deep, violet eyes. He was a gangly-looking youth, with limber arms and legs supporting a slim, if not diminutive, figure, contradicting the surprising length of his body. His skin was flawless and pale as white silk, seeming to glow against the warm sunlight; all the more so with the dark student uniform he wore.

Despite the delicateness a person would associate with such a Britannian student, there lay a firm and unyielding ego and superiority that belonged only to one Lelouch Lamperouge, student council vice-president and the school's most eligible bachelor.

Lelouch, a young man who prided himself on his intelligence, was not oblivious to the world around him, even if one such as he was more than privileged to be so; he was so often sought after by the female populace of raging hormones that he often escaped to the comfortable retreats of his frequent haunts—gambling halls; however, he did not play games of chance and luck, but a game that further relied upon his intellect and imperial personality: chess. It was a sport of strategy and dominion, where two gods immersed their respective sides into glorious and organized battle; it was the game of kings.

If only the world's generals and leaders had thought through their revolutions and wars in the same manner as a skilled chess player; possibly, many of them would have retained their sovereignty apart from the Empire. Yet so many had gracelessly fallen before the militant Britannians and their royal generals; however, one leader had indeed succeeded where others had failed, leading Lelouch to wonder if he had been a chess player himself: Zero.

The Black Prince, the would-be president of the United States of Japan; he had been an enigma to all of society, even until his death. With it gave way the failure of the Black Rebellion, and the restoration of Area 11; all those victories, all that planning…and for what?

Lelouch scoffed at the memory of the masked revolutionary, 'What a fool, failing when the moment had been most critical…not a chess master, more like a chess blunder' he thought disdainfully. What kind of leader dies on the eve of the most crucial conflict a rebellion could encounter?

"Brother!"

Lelouch started, turning to face his visitor. A thin, shorter boy was running towards him, with sun-kissed brown hair and pale lilac eyes. A smile graced the young man's lips, "Rolo!"

Lelouch's younger brother and fellow Ashford student, Rolo Lamperouge was a kind and soft-spoken soul. The Student Council President, Millay Ashford, tended to tease him good-naturedly for this, but Shirley, their Student Council Secretary, often hoped and pleaded with poor Rolo to help Lelouch, as the Vice-President, act more accordingly and in-propriety with his duties; alas, Rolo simply followed Lelouch with earnest, even to the seedier dens and cesspools of gambling, so that his older brother might receive the challenge he desired.

"Lelouch, are you still going to that place today?" It wasn't so much as an actual question as it was a confirmation of plans already made. Rolo knew his brother was stubborn and proud, but it made him all the more admirable.

"Ah," Lelouch nodded, "Count Rookshire has promised a handsome pool if I could 'entertain' him with a game of chess…he didn't specify the terms of a win or loss though…" There it was, that feral glint Rolo always saw in his big brother's eyes when an insatiable opportunity arose; Lelouch was downright malevolent when he planned circles around the so-called "chess masters" and snitched their fortunes from under their very noses.

The younger Lamperouge only sighed in defeat, "Well, if that is what Big Brother wants, then I'll do what I must to accommodate." There was a small trace of sarcasm laced into his words, just enough to emphasize his joking attitude.

Lelouch laughed and rubbed the top of his brother's head, "Then go pilfer Rivalz's motorbike from the garage. We leave in half an hour."

Rolo gave his elder brother a smile, "Yes, Brother."

A young woman in a beige overcoat squirmed through the intensely crowded walkways of the Tokyo Settlement. She was of supple build, with reddish-pink hair sticking out from under a large brown cap. Though she looked like a poorer Eleven, her fierce blue eyes shone with determination and discipline. For the last three months, this girl had been shadowing a special target…one of far too many values to classify properly.

A small vibration in her inner-breast pocket caused the woman to tense, eyes darting about in skilled watchfulness. Her cell-phone no longer rang its merry tune from her school days; there were too many eyes and ears belonging to the enemy in public.

With a swift movement, Kozuki Karen whisked her phone from within her coat, pressing it to her ear, "Moshi moshi?"

"Kallen."

Another flinch. She hated that name with a passion; not because of its origins or its meaning…but because…he was the last person to say it; and this person knew that very clearly, "You said you wouldn't use that name again…"

"You believed me?"

Stifling her anger as much as possible, Karen gritted her teeth in response, "What did you call me for?" Maybe the venom in her voice would melt the brain of the other person on the phone.

"Touchy. Maybe I was just lonely and wanted to talk to someone I knew…Nope. Don't care enough to do that. So, yes, I did call you for a reason."

Karen waited patiently, the feel of the crowd still pushing around her and incising her ire ever more. A full five minutes passed before she nearly snapped, "Well?!"

"Oh, you're still there?"

"YES I'M STILL HERE, DAMMIT!!" This time poor Karen did scream out in frustration, startling every person in her vicinity. Her face flushed, as she bowed with a very small "sorry" before running away from the scene, her phone still on and the other person still on the other end, with Karen cursing said person a thousand times over for her impossible attitude.

'Kami damn it, the things I put up with for this…' the young rebel thought bitterly.

Meanwhile, the person on the phone listened with mild interest to the commotion being made, amused and pleased that she could so easily manipulate the other woman.

'Not unlike Lelouch…' she thought, smiling. Looking out from the window of the dirigible, her emerald green hair reflecting in the glass, she pondered how the outcome of the mission in a few days would turn out, if only out of morbid curiousity.

"After all…" she mused out loud to know one in particular, "He is so very important for the cause, ne, Marianne?"

The trip to the Tokyo Settlement had been relatively uneventful, but Lelouch still chuckled over the reaction of their teacher, Villetta Nu, at the sight of them leaving the campus. No doubt he'd have to pull his weight again in the remedial gym classes, but he didn't mind too much. It was entertainment, if nothing else. The dark-skinned woman was still enjoyable enough that Lelouch could tolerate her Amazonian-like aggressiveness when drilling him.

"Brother, one of these days, Ms. Villetta is going to really rip you apart," Rolo said in concern, with just enough strength to sound chastising.

"Hm. Well, when that day comes, Rolo, I'll just have to be that much smarter in evading her again." The taller boy answered with a smirk.

The upper-most section of the Tokyo Settlement was exclusive to Britannians and only the highest ranked Elevens—such as the Honorary Britannian Peace Enforcers—and was a vast expanse of space, with a great deal of walking room, unlike the lower levels, where crowds of Elevens went to and from their menial jobs and hovels. From the garage where they stored the motorcycle, Lelouch and Rolo walked towards an expensive-looking casino that had a reputation far darker than any of its decorations. Entering through the giant French-doors, the two brothers were stopped by several large men in black suits and sunglasses.

"How cliché," Lelouch muttered.

One by one, the group entered a secluded room. At a small table, with a chess board and pieces, sat two men; the first had deep blonde hair with respectable silver roots developing from age and was dressed in the finest garments a nobleman could purchase, while the other was a simple manservant—a butler, by the looks of him—who was twitching nervously.

The Britannian noble looked up from the game and smiled at his new guests, "Ah, Mr. Lamperouge, so glad you could make it…you took your time."

Lelouch offered his own cool smile, well aware of the subtle politics game that was played beneath the pleasantries of nobility and courtesy. This was a direct challenge on his character, which was fine with Lelouch, "My lord Count Rookshire, it's an honor. Forgive my lateness, but I was somewhat unsure about how I should present myself before you." Despite the insult towards his title, the good count smiled all the wider. After all, how often does a man of his caliber discover such talent in the ways of the subtle words game, especially in a student? This boded well, for Rookshire, because it meant the opportunity to teach his wisdom to others, something he relished doing.

"Very well, shall we continue?" He asked with a flourish, gesturing towards the chess board. The butler graciously left the room as Lelouch took the seat and observed the field: it didn't look promising, but that only added to the excitement, "Very well, if you insist…" he spoke, as he reached for the Black King piece.

"King…first?" Rookshire asked, sealing his doom. Lelouch only smiled.

Villetta Nu gave an exasperated sigh as she walked through the hallways of Ashford Academy, having just finished dismissing her gym class for the day. That blasted Lelouch had once more skipped out on her class, which irritated her enough, but he also managed to convince Rolo to join him as an accomplice.

Of course, while she was irritated, it wasn't because a student ditched her class, or that he'd taken another student along with him to an obviously forbidden place, but because she, of all people, knew the truth about Lelouch Lamperouge…having been a victim to him once, she was vigilant about preventing any further occurrence, which explained her anger towards the situation, yet she kept her cool. After all, if the worst case scenario were to occur, there was always Rolo, who remained by Lelouch's side…

"Ms. Villetta!"

Said woman tensed, stopping in her tracks. That voice… "What is it, Shirley?" Try as hard as she might to suppress it, some steel still found its way into her voice as she turned to face the young girl who, in a past life, shot her to save Lelouch…

The girl blushed under the cold, golden stare of her teacher. She was aware of Ms. Villetta's anger towards her, even if she kept it restrained, though she remained completely baffled by it. What had she done to her? "Um, Lulu wasn't in class today, so…"

Villetta sighed again. The girl was so predictable, with her puppy-love for the black haired youth. She tried to smile, as a measure to maintain her character, but ended up with only a smirk, "Yes, he skipped out. Again. He probably went gambling again with Rolo…"

"I see…" The disappointment on Shirley's face was evident. Why couldn't Lelouch just be normal like everyone else? "Excuse me." The red-head bowed to her teacher and left for her next class. With a scoff, Villetta too removed herself from the hall…but not towards any classroom…there was a meeting to be held, again, about the developments of Lelouch…

"Checkmate"

Count Rookshire gaped like a fish. This man…this boy had single-handedly turned a worst-case scenario into one of the greatest wins the noble had seen in his nearly five decades of life. He looked up into the smug face of his opponent. This young man was good. Without warning the noble let out a barking laugh, stunning everyone in the room.

"Well done, young master!" he boomed, true admiration and respect in his voice, "You'd be a challenge for Prince Schneizel himself!"

A sudden chill worked its way up Lelouch's spine, sending shivers throughout his delicate frame, 'What? What was that all about?' Why would he be startled or agitated by the mention of the prince's name? It didn't make sense.

"You're too kind, Count Rookshire, but I feel you're giving me too much credit." Lelouch played a small trace of embarrassed modesty into his voice, playing his role.

"All the same, Mr. Lamperouge, I concede the match. Now, I didn't actually think you'd win, so I didn't properly prepare an ample prize for you…name you're price." The Count, though wealthy and very-well connected with many sources, both legal and immoral, was also a proud man, and he felt that true mastery, craftsmanship, or professionalism received its due respect."

"I believe the original pot sum you mentioned earlier will suffice, my lord. I enjoyed the match greatly, and I couldn't possibly impose on you any more than I have." That's it, milk their generosity and vanity for all its worth, and then…

The silk-garbed nobleman grunted in affirmation, "I can respect that, but I must insist. Consider it punishment on a stubborn old man for underestimating his opponent. Double the pot?" Rookshire offered, sincerely.

Lelouch smiled graciously, but on the inside, he was sneering, 'Jackpot', "Very well, Count Rookshire. I accept your gift." Oh he was so bad; sometimes he even felt a little guilty about the way he lead these men by their own noses…sometimes…but this wasn't one of them. Lelouch readily took the envelop—made of rare Motherland Bison leather—of money and handed it to Rolo, who smiled at him for his victory. After parting good-byes and offers of wine to-go denied, Lelouch and his brother began their walk back to the garage.

"Very well done, Brother. I think this was your biggest win yet." The tawny-brown haired boy praised, looking at his older brother with pride.

"It was a simple problem, Rolo. Once all the factors were understood, the outcome was clear. He may have had the field advantage, but Rookshire himself is prone to errors." Lelouch's deep voice was deadpan and neutral, as if stating the time of day. Of course, such was the norm with the lanky Britannian; his opponents and their strategies were merely components to a larger, more complex puzzle in need of solving.

Suddenly, a light-brown coated pedestrian crashed into Lelouch from a side alley, sending him and his attacker to the ground. Lelouch felt his head hit hard, throwing his vision of for a few seconds. When he recovered, he found himself face to face with a beautiful girl, her lips mere micrometers from his own. Her eyes…they were the most electrifying blue he had ever seen.

Flashback

"Zero-buntai Taichou, Kozuki Karen, reporting for duty!"

"Guren Niishiki, IKE!!"

"Zero…

End Flashback

Everything stopped, as sudden flashes passed through the young man's mind, memories and recollections that did not belong to him, 'What…?'

The woman, on the other hand, blushed, mortified, and mumbled an apology before running in the opposite direction of the gathering crowd. Tears flowed down her face as she felt the distant memories return to haunt her, 'Why?! Why, dammit, why did I have to see him now?! WHY, GODDAMNIT!!' She thought, pain clutching her still-wounded heart. To see him again…she had so longed and dreaded it…those amethyst eyes…his eyes…

She did not stop, and no one tried to follow her. Rolo was kneeling beside his brother, concerned. Lelouch was still lying on the ground, eyes wide and shaking, as if he'd seen a ghost. Rolo gently touched his shoulder, whispering, "Brother, what's wrong."

The black-haired boy suddenly clasped the younger man's hand in his own, startling all present. His eyes were so distant, he did not look at his brother, but whispered hoarsely, "Rolo…take me home…"

The youth stood still a moment, and nodded, "Okay, let's get you off the ground." With some small struggle, and help from some bystanders, Rolo helped Lelouch walk back to the garage. Though there was genuine concern and sincerity in his actions, deep down, in the back of his mind, Rolo felt a growing suspicion towards his "beloved Brother".

Lelouch did not speak during the return trip, or even after they got home. His mind was mired with unknown factors and confusing memories. The flashes were brief, painful, and sporadic, and each time, Lelouch felt something crumbling away from within the recesses of his mind.

He sat on his bed, hands clutched to his head as he tried to force everything to make sense. His bare back and chest were laced with sweat, and his breathing was heavy. He then felt another surge coming, 'Oh no…not again!'

Flashback

"I guess you got out alright, Q1."

"The world will not change through naïve talk."

"I am Zero."

"Lelouch vi Britannia commands you, die!"

"You killed mother, didn't' you?"

"I will show you my power."

"Why did you mention Shinjuku?"

"It wasn't me! I swear it wasn't me!"

"The one who really killed Clovis…was I!"

"I am Zero!"

End Flashback

"Rrrgh!!" Lelouch was in agony. These visions…what the hell was going on?! He stumbled from his bed and ricocheted of the walls, clenching his skull in his hands. Why was this happening?!

Flashback

"I was dead until the moment I met you."

"I am C.C."

"We are the Order of the Black Knights!"

End Flashback

Lelouch wound up in Rolo's room, teeth clenched in pain and confusion. Everything was falling apart, everything was collapsing. "Why?" He grit out, his mind numb with pain, "What did I do to deserve this?!"

Flashback

"You betrayed the world at the very last minute; and you are now betrayed by the world!"

"You used us Japanese? Even I?

"Yes. I am Zero. The leader of the Order of the Black Knights; The one who declared war on the Holy Britannia Empire; And, a guy who is about to take over the world!"

"You are not fit to be in this world! LELOUCH!!"

"SUZAKU!!"

"Zero!"

"Zero!"

"I am…ZERO!!!"

End Flashback

The pain stopped. It didn't hurt anymore. The young man stood still as the wave of peace flowed through him. There was a whisper, only a small voice, at the back of his mind…

"Sometimes, when a person is alone, taking comfort in another's presence is all it takes to wash away the fear…"

"…Kallen…"

Something within Lelouch's mind seemed to click, and the barrier of Charles Di Britannia's Geass broke away. Gone was the boy named Lelouch Lamperouge…reborn was the man…the mystery…the miracle…

"I am…Zero…" Lelouch spoke, confidence and familiarity coursing through his veins. Yes…he was back…

"Good…" There was a snap of a standard Britannia issue pistol unlocking its safety as Lelouch looked up to see the reflection of Rolo, who was neither his kith or kin, pointing a gun at his back, "That just makes my job that much easier…"

Lelouch suppressed a cringe as the tell-tale click of the pistol's safety unlocked. Having used such a weapon before, he was all too aware of its properties; and, in his current case, its fatal properties. Slowly, Lelouch reached his hands up, a sign of surrender, before offering the young man a small smile in the mirror.

"As it seems you have me in a rather unfavorable situation, perhaps you'd like to educate me with the objectives of your job, hm?" On the inside, Lelouch was seething. This boy, this…this wretch had been placed in the position he was for one purpose: to replace Nunnally! Even now, Lelouch was concocting endless scenarios that resulted in this youth's death.

"What is there to discuss? You are a criminal and I am the one responsible for keeping you under control." Rolo, despite his cold answer, was feeling somewhat tormented. On the one hand, Lelouch had regained the memories of his past warmongering, for which he had been ordered to pacify when the time came; yet, the target his superiors described had yet to appear, the spectral C.C. whom was supposed to contact the elder Lamperouge for the as-mentioned memories to be restored. Thusly, he hadn't fired the gun yet—hell, normally he wouldn't have even made his presence known, but there were many factors that didn't add up favorably for the organization.

"Hmph. Then why haven't you fired yet, my dear little brother." The venom in Lelouch's voice was so potently effective; he was pleased to see his captor flinch as he turned to look at him fully. His amethyst eyes, reflected in Rolo' own violet orbs, were burning with rage.

Despite the fear—and confusion—welling up in his heart, the youth replied coolly, "I have you detained, but there is still the matter of interrogation. After all, we must know how you were able to restore your memories. So I'll ask just once," Rolo aimed the firearm higher, pointing right between Lelouch's eyes, "Where is the woman C.C.? How did you make contact with her?"

Lelouch smirked, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. Somehow…he suddenly felt that things were going to become very interesting…and very advantageous…

Once more, EXPECT. LONG. DE. LAYS. THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION.