Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass, and by no means am I trying to profit off of it.

Author's note: I apologize for the years of absence. I became so buried in schoolwork and with changes in my life that I put this work on the back burners. I can only promise the next update won't be years from now. The most realistic schedule will probably be a monthly one. I also must apologize for how slow the story is developing, but I had to spend the time fitting my new character within the Code Geass universe. To be honest, this is only half of the chapter I intended. I wanted to publish it anyway to get myself excited to start writing again. I hope you enjoy where this chapter is going so far and look forward to future updates.

I'm also looking for a beta reader. Another set of eyes on my work would probably help speed up the publishing times. If anyone is interested, you can PM me. I'm looking for someone who can correct grammar mistakes and analyze the flow of the story. I would prefer someone who has seen Code Geass.

3. Rebirth

The intoxicating smell of alcohol hovered over the patrons of the bar as they celebrated a new era. Groups of people squeezed into the leather booths sharing toasts. Others gathered around the oak bar and speculated how the world order would change. Mixed in with the group of celebrators were the local alcoholics getting their habitual drink. The televisions behind the bar broadcasted the news. This is where Nolan Marbrey found himself the day his research had reached a dead end.

Nolan tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, sitting at one end of the crowded bar. This was difficult since he was wearing Western clothes in a primarily Eleven bar. His gray suit looked pristine, but upon closer inspection, the cuffs were frayed and little stains were on his shirt. His once shiny shoes were riddled with scrapes and nicks. One would normally not notice these details because his most striking features were his grey eyes. These stormy eyes would normally have a piercing intensity to them, but his eyes were currently glazed over with indifference.

The only thing he wanted to feel at the moment was the memory-deadening alcohol. Everything had become a failure. Nolan did not know where to go. Lelouch vi Britannia, his last lead to find the test subject who held the key, was dead. Code R had reached a dead end. The sake burned as it went down his throat. Nolan flipped through the folders of memories inside of his head.

It had all started after he had won the prestigious grant from the Rosenberg Institute for his work on cyberneticization, the blending of man and machine. For his experiment, he had used electronics to fix a blind man's sight. He had replaced the organic eyes with cybernectic ones. Relying on the body's natural voltage as an energy source, the cybernetic eye worked perfectly. It had regular optic output, but it could also switch into an infrared mode. The design was brilliant, body and machine working in unison. The number of applications for this technology was limitless, and his project received much attention and critical acclaim. Marbrey had single-handedly revolutionized the field of medicine. It was no surprise when the famous Bartley Asprius came to visit him.

Bartley was not much to look at. He was a rotund man who suffered from premature balding. Despite his looks, Bartley was a political beast, knowing what to say and when. Bartley stood in the doorway with his hands held behind his back dressed in his military attire with a monocle covering his left eye. Straightening his back, Bartley began, "Mr. Marbrey, words of your accomplishments have traveled very quickly, and I think you would be the perfect person to join an elite team of researchers. We have never met formally. My name is Bartley Asprius."

Swirling the shot of sake, Nolan remembered how he had not even bothered to stand up from behind his desk. "I am familiar with who you are General Bartley. I have heard much about the scientist general, but I have not heard about any research of great import coming from your team. I'm afraid I'll have to pass."

Bartley removed his hands from behind his back revealing a folder. He threw the folder on the desk with a couple of sheets slipping out of their paper confines. Nolan picked up one of these stray papers and skimmed it. It looked like a standard electroencephalography chart. The chart helped analyze voltage fluctuations from the neurons inside the brain. Measuring them was integral to helping body and machine to blend. It's what had allowed the body to power the cybernectic eye he had created. His eyes widened as he looked at the waveforms. They were unlike anything he had ever witnessed in any of his prior test subjects.

"Our team has come across a most interesting subject who surpasses everything a body should be capable of. I believe by studying the subject your research in cybernetization could leap forward. If you want to join us, meet with me tomorrow at the airport at 5 am. I'm headed back to Japan to continue my Lord Clovis' work."

Nolan got up knocking over his chair in haste, "You can't just leave. What is this? How can these even be natural?"

"Remember 5 am. I think you'll realize the value of what you are looking at without further persuasion," answered Bartley puffing up his chest like a peacock before leaving as quickly as he had come.

That was it. Nolan was hooked. At that moment, he knew he had to join Bartley's team. Damn Bartley! That three minute meeting changed his life, challenging what he thought possible. Marbrey stopped swirling the shot glass and tossed it down his throat. He remembered the lonely taxi ride to the airport, staring at the empty streets of Pendragon. He was leaving his family, his prestigious position at the Rosenberg Institute, everything he knew, to see what Bartley had to offer in Area Eleven. Nolan arrived ten minutes early, but Bartley was already waiting at the curb. Steeling himself, Nolan opened the door and stood before Bartley. "Welcome to Code R. I will brief you on everything we have discovered on the plane" They shook hands and with that, Nolan disappeared from the academic world of publishing. The burn of sake in the back of his throat felt nostalgic and appropriate for his memory.

He became distracted by the conversation of two men sitting at the counter with him. They looked like they drank on a regular basis and the Demon Emperor's death was only an excuse for them to drink some more. "Oi! Turn up the volume. My favorite newscaster is on and I want to hear her voice."

The old bartender behind the counter silently obliged unmuting the TV while continuing to get orders from excited patrons.

Nolan didn't watch the news. He normally was too busy working on research. He happened to recognize the blonde bombshell newscaster on the screen. He had seen her at one of the balls he had attended. She was the descendent of Milton Ashford, one of the creators and benefactors of the Ganymede project.

"Oh, the things I would do to her," one of the patrons said as he lecherously stared at the screen.

The patron next to the man who made the comment chuckled, "If more Britannians were like her, I don't think I would have minded the occupation as much." The two men shared a knowing smile.

Nolan scowled. Man was nothing but weak flesh, a slave to his base instincts. Nolan dreamed of changing that. If he had succeeded in his research, these men would have –

The heavy oak door slammed, interrupting Nolan's train of thought, and an obnoxious voice boomed, "Whoooooooo! It's time to party!" Turning to face the door, Nolan quickly assessed the situation and immediately recognized the outfit and bandana the man wore.

"It's the Black Knights!" cried a high pitch voice from somewhere in the booth area. A cheer rose up from the bar as the heroes of Japan entered the humble bar. People emptied booths and chairs to swarm the newcomers. Nolan heard the people clamoring at this chance to celebrate with these rebels on this momentous day. People asked for autographs. Some of the more brazen women asked for kisses, and Nolan could only guess what the lady whispered into the ear of the tall bespectacled man causing him to blush bright red.

Clamoring on top of a newly emptied chair, the leader lifted his hands up like a conductor and signaled the audience to quiet down. "Calm down people, calm down," he cooed, and when he was certain they were under his command, he belted, "Old man Kaito, the drinks are on the Black Knights tonight! We are going to be here all night." He punctuated this announcement by throwing his fists in the air.

The crowd roared in approval at this announcement, and applauding crescendoed into the stomping of feet on the floor. Nolan recognized the leader, and through a gap in the crowd, he caught a glimpse of some of the faces of the other Black Knights: Shinichiro Tamaki, Yoshitaka Minami and Kent Sugiyama; three of the founding members that were to be executed this afternoon if Zero had not shown up. Nolan did not recognize any of the other Black Knights behind them. He could make out Yoshitaka gesturing to Tamaki with concern on his face. Though he could not hear what Yoshitaka was saying, he could make out Tamaki's answer over the rumblings of the crowd.

"You think too much, Yoshitaka. Ohgi owes me this much. You know the Black Knights are good for it," said Tamaki flashing a carefree smile. "You know I'm good for it, right, old man?" The bartender nodded. Perking up at the bartender's agreeance, Tamaki cheered, "Now let's get this party started." Tamaki proceeded to make his way through the crowd like a politician, shaking hands with everyone he passed. If there was a baby there, Nolan was sure this absurd man would have stopped to give it a kiss for photographers. Yoshitaka shook his head in resignation and motioned for the rest of the party to come into the pub.

Celebrators were shouting, glasses were clinking, and photos were being snapped. Nolan crinkled his nose in annoyance but at least he could drink on someone else's dime. Nolan tried to flag down a bartender. With drink refilled, Nolan continued to reminisce about Code R.

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