ALL HAIL BRITANNIA! A Code Geass Character RP (OPEN/IC)

[Gigaverse]

At least I can be less worried that he's landed somewhere safe... somehow. The boy might be calling out for Alyse, but knowing her, I shouldn't leave any openings.

Lucius thought, having monitored the situation from a concealed quarter. His attention immediately turned to the dispatched Knightmare Frames, the moment they loomed on the horizon. Two shades of purple, slowly rolling to his position. Gloucesters.

So they don't want to hurt the boy, but chose to bring these... Very well.

The moment that rounds exit their assault rifles, I would personally take care of them.

He walked, slowly and undisturbed, on the grounds before the Knightmares. As they closed in every second, he kept his calm demeanor, his black long-coat flowing, his expression unchanged.

[Evraim]

Oranmiyan Palace - Bedchambers
Lagos, Britannian West Africa
The Holy Britannian Empire

Alyse wondered which style would suit her best. Victorian braids struck her as too pretentious, too restrictive, and too dull. She wanted something a bit more fun. Perhaps a cross between the crown-look and a more modern hairdo. As she stared into the mirror, watching Lottie weave a brush deftly in and out of her disheveled mane, the princess felt at peace. Alyse was not usually vain, but her lovely cascade of wintry strands, soft as downy fur, always enchanted her, making her feel beautiful for a ephemeral moment. Ponderously, the girl scanned the magazine in search of an acceptable model. This proved beyond difficult, as she had suspected it would. Alyse grew bored quickly, rarely embellishing her hair in the same manner twice, with the sole exception of wearing it down. She had already used most of these styles.

Without so much as a thought, the girl booted up her computer, opening the menu to a chess game in progress. Her opponent was a sophisticated AI that had been toned down to make the match more interesting, though this hadn't resulted quite as expected. Under ordinary circumstances, the computer would obtain an inexorable victory while playing as white. The same rule applied to Alyse herself, in no small part because of her mathematical proficiency. She could quite literally calculate and predict the course of any match within less than a minute, reacting accordingly. White simply held a stronger position after the first move was made. Provided two AI's were playing at optimal level, white would never taste defeat. This is why Alyse never played as white. It made things boring.

At the moment, she had constructed a tentative Queen's Indian Defense in response to the AI's Dutch Attack. Both strategies relied on hyper-modern principles, but Alyse was confident that she would gain the positional advantage soon after the opening phase reached its conclusion. This suspicion was proven correct soon afterwards, and Alyse could see the match unfolding before her eyes as the computer weighed its options. At this rate, she reflected, I will call checkmate in no more than fifty two moves, but, if I were too slip... With a wicked smirk, she allowed her queen to be sacrificed in exchange for a bishop, giving the computer the material advantage. There were still several hundred ways she could prevail, but there were more than ten thousand that would result in a loss. Alyse didn't mind these odds quite so much as the previous ones.

"Your singing voice is pretty, big sister," the girl remarked when Lottie began chirping the lyrics of some pop song from the homeland. Alyse had herself been trained as a classical soprano, though such a style would not have been suited to this type of fast-paced, soulless melody. "I could listen to it all day," she said with a yawn of contentment, flipping through the magazine for the second time. "Perhaps I could fetch my viola later," she suggested gingerly, "The notes shouldn't pose too much difficulty for me. My big brother Clovis always says that music exposes the soul of a people. Why shouldn't it work for siblings too?" In that instant, Alyse could almost believe that her demeanor wasn't a manipulation, but, deep down, she knew that she was a fraud. No sincere person would have smiled while mentioning that name, the name of the person who abandoned her to her solitude, to her nightmares, to her insecurities.

A soft ring from the corner of her desk alerted the princess to a call. Lord Baltaser, she thought, reading the name that flashed onto the screen, I suppose this means that he has located my brother's approximate location. Yawning again, she flipped her phone open. "Yes?" Alyse asked girlishly, "What is it?" An eerie, pregnant silence floated back to her, the silence of empty air and tension. "Your Highness," Baltaser replied at last, "I'm calling to report that we have established roadblocks. Your Highness's plan proved successful, and His Highness is now somewhere in the central Benin region. We're dispatching the Nigerian Guard to retrieve him now. We believe that the locals will turn him over as soon as the 22nd Mechanized Division approaches." Alyse let out a sigh. This would be too easy. The 22nd Mechanized Division consisted almost entirely of young men who had been recruited from central Benin. They had the trust and affection of the local villagers, many of whom were blood relations.

"Excellent. Anything else?" the princess inquired. "Well..." Baltaser hesitated for a few seconds, "We've encountered resistance from a pair of civilians at the airport. One of them appears to be a noblewoman. She was attempting to conceal herself, but one of our operatives caught sight of her with his scope. The other seems... different, Your Highness. I can't quite place my finger on it, but he strikes me as a dangerous sort of man. Neither of them responded to our order to evacuate. What are Your Highness's orders?" Alyse mulled over the situation for a few seconds, and then responded. "Ask them for their names," she suggested, "Women tend to react favorably to men who care for such details." A slight change in the girl's tone would be enough to clue in the knight about her actual intentions, while also keeping Lottie in the dark.

"Um," Baltaser drawled, "As the princess commands." A smile flashed across Alyse's face again. "Make sure to bring the lucky girl to tea this afternoon, Baltaser," she insisted with a giggle, "I'd love to meet her. Well then, farewell." Having advanced her strategy further, the girl clicked her phone shut, just in time to hear Cornelia and Euphemia entering her bedchamber. "Hi, Euphie!" Alyse chimed merrily, tilting her head in as cutely as she could manage. "Lottie, I want this one," she added, pointing to a hairdo which combined neo-classical and modern features. The braids were somewhat elaborate, but they also permitted a decent portion of her hair to fall past her shoulders, suggesting freedom. The style was a perfect match, even if Alyse had used it once before.

[Gigaverse]

Lucius Kingsley
Knight Commander; Knight of Saint Gabriel

Lagos, Britannian West Africa
July 19th, 2017 A.T.B.
1625 Hours

"Civilian, what is your name?"

The blond-haired giant did not respond, only looking straight at the Gloucester, prompting the Knightmare's Devicer to speak again:

"CIVILIAN, WHAT, IS YOUR NAME?"

He finally moved his head, gesturing that he listened. His black-gloved hand reached for the pocket inside his long-coat, forcing the Gloucester to point its assault rifle at him in a cautious manner. He raised his ID Card towards them, his voice came out as loud and clear as that of the Devicer through the Gloucester's microphones:

"Lucius Kingsley, newly promoted Grand Master of the Order of Saint Gabriel, one of the four Generals of Euro Britannia, Duke of Yakutia (Yakutsk), CEO of Kingsley Group from the Homeland. Feel free to come down and check my ID however you want."

The Devicer shuddered from within his seat. To confirm whether he was truly speaking to such a high superior or not, he exited his Gloucester and approached the black-clad gentleman. A minute later, he gave the ID card back to its owner, whose sheer size dwarfed him to invisibility.

"Well, Freddie boy? Is he?", the Devicer of the other Gloucester asked.

"It... is."

The Devicer immediately knelt in front of Lucius.

"Forgive my insolence, me Lord! I didn't know you have come all this way from Siberia!"

"Arise. I'm at fault here, lad. I did not report my presence to the authorities of West Africa. Rest assured, I know who's the Governor."

The other Devicer chose to come down and ran to the two.

"Who's this man, Fred?"

"Don't you know? The Black Phantom of the Frontier; that Phantom of the Operation that you have always blabbered to me about?"

"What?... he's just as tall, but I must check furthermore!"

The bold soldier grabbed the shades on Lucius' face and removed it. On his left eye, there was indeed an eye-patch decorated with a golden phoenix insignia.

It was time for him to bow.

"Sincerest of apologies, my Lord.", he said, his face touching the dirt.

"I apologize for the inconvenience. Inform your superiors. I seek personal audience with the government of Britannian West Africa."

"But my Lord... it's a Princess we're talking about!", the Devicer named Fred said, "I'm afraid that's impossible for us."

"Worry not. Leave the talking to me. As for the matter I have observed just now, you can let me take care of it."

"No big deal, Sire. Just the Prince running away. According to our sources, he said he's... on a mission given to him by either the Emperor himself or one of the Princes. We think it's a fraud or a practical joke by him, though."

"And so it will be. I shall bring the person you need here, but first..."

---

"What is your name, my Lady?", the man asked, as gently as he could.

"I'm... afraid I can't tell you that.", the jet-black-haired girl hesitantly gave her response.

She was stuck in a situation which she did not know how to deal with. And she wasn't all too comfortable with that.

"I shall take care from here.", a different man's voice said.

He walked up to where the little Lady was. She looked up to him, finally finding someone who can bring her out of the little incident she was in.

"Here's my ID.", the man showed his card to the soldier, who retreated upon realizing whom he was facing.

"Don't scare me like that again, please...", she said with a frail voice.

"That depends. I do not grant wishes that are simply out of my capabilities.", he said, his hand holding hers, "We will be presenting ourselves before the Imperial Family, or at least, some members of them, very soon. Ready yourself, Alice Henrietta Highland."

"But... But..."

Is this a scenario where I owe James an apology?, he wondered.

But his goal of the day was achieved: finding an excuse to meet Alyse la Britannia.

[Nuridia]

"Well thank you." Charlotte told Alyse. The silver haired girl was not known for being straight with people and even though Lottie knew she could sing she saw Alyse smile a bit when mentioning Clovis. The younger princess was notoriously manipulative and Lottie didn't know if the compliment was genuine or some attempt to butter her up but Lottie didn't really care much. "Your viola would be a good accompaniment, but you have to stay still so I can do your hair properly." Charlotte told her sister gently and then heard Cornelia and Euphemia come into the room. "Hey guys, how's things going!" she grinned at her two full sisters. "Things have been okay so far, but not for Jamie I'm afraid." she explained to the other two pinkettes before she heard Alyse's voice select a hairstyle. "Well a little more elaborate than I'm used to but I can do it." Charlotte said as she began to braid the somewhat elaborate hairstyle into Alyse's silver strands.

[The Polarian Empire]

"Well thank you." Charlotte told Alyse. The silver haired girl was not known for being straight with people and even though Lottie knew she could sing she saw Alyse smile a bit when mentioning Clovis. The younger princess was notoriously manipulative and Lottie didn't know if the compliment was genuine or some attempt to butter her up but Lottie didn't really care much. "Your viola would be a good accompaniment, but you have to stay still so I can do your hair properly." Charlotte told her sister gently and then heard Cornelia and Euphemia come into the room. "Hey guys, how's things going!" she grinned at her two full sisters. "Things have been okay so far, but not for Jamie I'm afraid." she explained to the other two pinkettes before she heard Alyse's voice select a hairstyle. "Well a little more elaborate than I'm used to but I can do it." Charlotte said as she began to braid the somewhat elaborate hairstyle into Alyse's silver strands.

Cornelia and Euphemia Li Britannia
Second and Third Princesses of the Holy Britannian Empire

Lagos , Britannian West Africa
July 19th, 2017 ATB

After hearing about James' wish to stop Alyse from sending ships to retrieve James. Considering that she is the Chief General of the Britannian Imperial Army and Alyse never mentioned it brings deceitfulness to thought she agreed and went Ahead with it.

"Alyse, James just called and I learned that you sent ships to get him back I'm not mad and we all deeply care for him , I just have one question Why?"

[Evraim]

Oranmiyan Palace - Bedchambers
Lagos, Britannian West Africa
The Holy Britannian Empire

"Thanks, Lottie," Alyse chirped, closing her eyes. She sometimes liked to enjoy the sensation of another person's hands running through her hair. It was nostalgic. Her mother used to do it all the time when she was still small, whenever she praised her or even in random moments of intimacy between mother and daughter. Besides that, she didn't want to catch a glimpse of her hair in the vanity's mirror until her sister had put the finishing touches on it. Alyse had a truly baffling number of eccentricities, and this was just one more to join the treasure trove which already existed.

She seemed unaffected by Cornelia's question, her ears perking up only slightly as her reveries were rudely interrupted. "Why?" she asked airily, a secret smile brightening her features, "I'm not telling." A sneer animated the last three words, with Alyse's stuck-out tongue belaboring the point. Her tones, gestures, and even the words themselves all suggested a childlike petulance, though this was merely another aspect of the princess's strategy. Revealing too much too soon would not suit her objectives, namely the unmasking of her clandestine opponent and the retrieval of her wayward little brother. Of course, her spoiled demeanor came with its own set of risks. Cornelia, while clever in her own way, tended to prefer direct confrontation and violence to the subtleties of political machination. Alyse had anticipated this, and fixed the game in her favor in the opening moves.

The knights who owed their loyalty to Britannia had been dispatched to retrieve James, without open-channel communicators. This meant that Cornelia would need to pry the communicator from Alyse's own, albeit feeble, hands to order a withdrawal. Furthermore, the only soldiers remaining in the palace at this point were members of the Amazigh-Tuareg Liberation Army, who swore their oaths directly to her. Several of them were clustered at strategic points, prepared to lurch into action at the slightest provocation. Cornelia would have a difficult time employing coercion under these circumstances, making it unlikely that Alyse's plan would be foiled. The current odds of success stood at about five-to-one, boring but safe. Taking on more risk during the opening stages would have been a folly.

Finally, the princess had amassed substantial intelligence records, including immediately available information pertaining to James's phone call and the two mysterious interlopers at the airport. She remained unsure of their identities, but the appearance of two ostensible nobles at a time like this couldn't result from mere coincidence, could it? Her theories regarding this matter were of a far more tentative nature, and would not have withstood a test of statistical significance. Nonetheless, Alyse was not perturbed. These facts just meant that she could garner more entertainment from the speculations. As the princess was in the process of ignoring her sister's pending outburst, her communicator began ringing again. Baltaser. Have we proceeded so quickly to check? she wondered.

She answered. "Your Highness," his voice hinting at befuddlement, "We have ascertained the identities of the two suspicious persons at this time. They are Sir Lucius Kingsley, the Knight-Commander of the Order of Saint Gabriel, and Lady Alice Henrietta Highland. The Knight-Commander has requested an audience, princess." A smirk flickered on the girl's face. Is that who has been cowering behind the curtain? she thought. Alyse might have laughed. This was going to be more interesting than she had anticipated. "Inform Sir Lucius that I will accept his request," the princess commanded, "Please, provide the gentleman and his companion with a worthy honor guard to ensure that they make it unmolested to the palace. This afternoon's tea will not disappoint!" She could practically feel Baltaser rolling his eyes. "As Your Highness commands," he allowed, his tone stoic.

"What of my brother?" the girl inquired, the purr of her hair-based contentment flowing into her tone. "We have deployed the Nigerian Guard and pinpointed His Highness's location," the officer explained, "We should be able to take him into custody within the hour. I will provide an update when the mission is accomplished." Alyse gave a curt nod, resulting in the brush tugging more forcefully against her hair than expected. She grimaced, but said nothing. "Lovely," the princess murmured, "Invite the officers involved in this operation to tea too. I want to torment Cornelia." She hung up before Baltaser could process this order and protest.

"It seems like we'll have some high notoriety guests at this afternoon's tea," she remarked idly, pretending as though she hadn't deliberately antagonized Cornelia seconds before. Her eyes fluttered open as she glanced back at Euphemia. "Tell me, Euphie," she questioned, "Are you familiar with Sir Lucius Kingsley? I've heard they call him the Phantom of the Frontier in Siberia. He sounds fascinating, doesn't he?" While her comment sounded like gossip, Alyse wanted to assess her sister's reaction since she had been the one who handed the phone over to James according to the pair of witnesses. Alyse wanted to corroborate her suspicions about who the caller might be.

---

Japanese Black Army Bunker
Tokyo, Britannian Occupied Japan
The Holy Britannian Empire

Snip.

As Yuri scuttled through the relative safety of the back alleyways that functioned like the veins of Japan's destitute underworld, the din of battle grew more and more distant. At the same time, the faces that peered out at him from the darkness grew more Asiatic in their features. Distrust hung palpably in the air. These people had been wronged by men who looked like Yuri in the past. They had grievances beyond counting, all of which coalesced then in that poignant moment, as the soldier ran from the war that had determined the course of his life up until that point. Four people, ostensibly civilians from the settlements who had wondered into the ghettos inadvertently in their desperate attempt to escape the carnage, still sprinted at his heels. All of the sudden, the force of a collision jolted through Yuri's body, knocking him to the ground. This was followed by the sound of rifles shifting to focus on him and his companions.

A group of men and women, plainly Japanese, were clustered around the entrance of a dingy building plastered with rotting graffiti that consisted of a peculiar mix of expletives and anti-imperial slogans. Faded reds, chalky blues, and piss-colored yellows all drew the gaze, not to mention the revulsion, of the casual passerby. The Japanese glared at Yuri, their dark eyes flickering with annoyance. "On the ground! Now!" a woman shouted coolly, methodically, "We won't hesitate to shoot!" At first glance, one would not have mistaken her as a career soldier. Her eyes were too lively, even in their fierceness, and her voice too measured. Another oddity was her age. She couldn't have been any older than twenty. Glancing around, Yuri would have observed that few of the Japanese who had surrounded his group were older than thirty.

"You shouldn't speak so harshly, Hinata," a man's voice interjected. His tone was laid-back and casual, though his words held a ring of charisma, of sagacity. "After all," the man continued, "Martin Buber argued that there were three principles in a person's being and life: the principle of thought, the principle of speech, and the principle of action. The origin of all conflict between a person and his or her fellows is that we don't say what we think and we don't do what we say. Remember, the tongue like a sharp knife kills without drawing blood, and murder is a sin in every nation that has ever been." The owner of the voice strolled from the entrance of the ramshackle building, a machine gun cradled in his spindly arms. He was bespectacled and handsome, though dark rings had formed around his eyes.

"But Kazuki!" the woman who was called Hinata protested, "They just saw a crucial weapons depot." The man smirked softly, stroking his chin with his right hand. "I suppose you're right," he conceded, "All the same, they shouldn't trouble us too much, and I am loathe to emulate the policies of our oppressors. We'll take them into custody until it is safe to release them. Make sure that they are fed and sheltered. After all, they are our comrades." With this comment, Kazuki, who seemed to be the commanding officer, turned his back on his new guests. The remaining Japanese, who seemed to be members of a resistance cell, quickly pulled the civilians, including Yuri, to their feet, blindfolding them and marching them towards some unknown destination. "Don't scream," Hinata instructed them, "Or we'll gag you. We'll also gag you if the Britannian army shows up."

[Gigaverse]

Lucius Kingsley
Knight Commander; Knight of Saint Gabriel

Unknown Chamber; Oranmiyan Palace; Lagos, Britannian West Africa
July 19th, 2017 A.T.B.
1700 Hours

"Please wait here, my Lord. Her Highness will arrive shortly.", one of the Guardsmen who accompanied Lucius said.

"My apologies, I require some solitary time before the arrival of the Princess. If you excuse me.", he said, his voice mellowed and gentler than the one he usually carried.

"... I... If that's what you said, my Lord."

As soon as the Guardsmen walked away, the blond-haired Knight removed his shades. His calm footsteps then rested beside a piano. One covered in dust.

"... A piano? But this place seems so... new...", little miss Highland wondered.

"Piano...? It has been such a long time since the last time I ever played a musical instrument... Perhaps I should indulge myself in the pleasure of crafting my own music through my very fingertips?"

"Sir Kingsley, do we have the permission of Her Imperial Highness? Beyond that, do you even know how to play the piano?"

"Everything would eventually come back to me. I might have gotten rusty, but I shall not let time get in my way..."

Just like I have never done so for many, many years.

He found himself a seat. His moved his fingers to see whether they were graceful enough to play the piano. Slowly moving, he tentatively pressed a white key. Then a black key. Then another white. Then another black. He kept up with that little play of his.

"I have seen enough, Sir Kingsley... You don't know how to play the piano!"

"I was just reminding myself which key is which note, that is all. Would you like to listen to something now?"

"If it will not bother the Princesses."

Lucius looked at the keys; there were such a nostalgic feeling exposed through his right iris. Then...

When something came to his mind, he would finally play it for real. His fingertips performed an elegant dance on the piano. Formality turned into melancholy. Why the piano was there, did not matter any longer. There was only the sadness of the music.

The Knight let his fingers move naturally. What came out was indistinguishable from what a professional pianist would make. The piece he played was beautiful, nostalgic, and beyond all, sorrowful. Alice's eyes were captivated by the sight, and her ears overwhelmed by every note, disbelieving the fact that the person before her, who could be such a man of emotions, was also a frigid, brutal professional murderer and assassin.

"Would you...", he asked, but was interrupted by her answer.

"No... Continue."

His hands moved on the keys, like ballerinas on their stage, dressed in amazing white and black gowns. He kept repeating, again and again. It was as if he was telling a story, so sad and repetitive that he had gotten used to it; and despite the changes, ultimately, he will still remember the misery, the regret that he had always carried. It was just Alice's guess, but somehow, it moved her to tears. She had always been such a dreamy girl who likes to imagine things.

Suddenly, the footsteps of someone else approached the chamber, its elegance telling her that they were about to have a guest, or rather, meet the host of the house.

[Nuridia]

"And...done." Charlotte told Alyse. She had finally finished the elaborate hairstyle flawlessly, securing it with tiny jewelled pins that would sparkle when the silver haired princess moved. Finally after telling Cornelia and Euphemia she would be back later, Lottie got her shower in. She washed her hair with sweet smelling shampoo and put on the gown she had chosen. As elegant as Alyse's, but the thinner linen fabric kept her nicely cool in the dry desert heat. As Lottie pinned her own hair up in a bun and replaced her glasses, she heard the sound of the piano being played. She wondered who had been allowed in the house so she stepped into the piano parlor and saw a man and a young woman. The man was at the piano and the woman was crying.

[Gigaverse]

Upon Princess Charlotte's entrance, everything beside the piano keys still remained quiet. He played for two more times, before he finished, and would rather only feel the piano than playing them. He could hear little hiccups coming from the voice behind him.

"Are you crying, Lady Highland? Was my music too soft?"

"No... It's just... me imagining things..."

Charlotte must have recognized the voice by then.

"Please don't. Live your life as meaningful as possible, and you will not come up with things like this. Sadness is not a virtue.

... Princess Charlotte, please excuse our rudeness for not reporting our identities."

Alice turned around to see another woman peaking on them.

[Jordslag]

James walked grinning up to Three isolated Knightmares in Benin. "I surrender! Come and GET ME." He said. When one of them came out to arrest him, he turned... Invisible. He then attempted to stab that guard in the head with his Knife. "Sorry, about this, but some Siblings have serious fights." He said as he lunged.

[Inquilabstan]

Muhammad brought a hand up to his mouth and inhaled deeply. "Bloody Hell. What on earth prompted her to make this thing?" he wondered aloud. His superior smirked, letting out that gravelly chuckle of his. "God only knows what Rakshata thinks. Of course, this will only be issued to special units because the costs are frankly astronomical. Still, the performance seems to justify that. Special units. Perhaps Keerthana or Anzan?"

"Hm. Keerthana's Company is to the south near Pune. Older models down there, so that isn't much of a concern."

"Anzan then? Delhi is a tough nut to crack. If we could disable the enemy knightmares, we would overrun the city soon enough. Once the knightmares are gone, the men inside can disable the AA system, and we can simply pound the city to dust."

"Well, we could always try starving em out. Lavel thinks that his troops can advance out of Noida as far as the Narela-Bawana landfill. Royal Panzer Infantry are useless there. If we draw out the armored units to the site, we could try flanking them. That gives us access to the Britannian zone, and from there on, boom. Delhi falls, and we can drive straight for Calcutta."

"Well, the Australians are certainly a boon here, aren't they? A pity though. Sumatra was always so peaceful through all this. God help them through all this. God help us. "

[The Polarian Empire]

Oranmiyan Palace - Bedchambers
Lagos, Britannian West Africa
The Holy Britannian Empire

"Thanks, Lottie," Alyse chirped, closing her eyes. She sometimes liked to enjoy the sensation of another person's hands running through her hair. It was nostalgic. Her mother used to do it all the time when she was still small, whenever she praised her or even in random moments of intimacy between mother and daughter. Besides that, she didn't want to catch a glimpse of her hair in the vanity's mirror until her sister had put the finishing touches on it. Alyse had a truly baffling number of eccentricities, and this was just one more to join the treasure trove which already existed.

She seemed unaffected by Cornelia's question, her ears perking up only slightly as her reveries were rudely interrupted. "Why?" she asked airily, a secret smile brightening her features, "I'm not telling." A sneer animated the last three words, with Alyse's stuck-out tongue belaboring the point. Her tones, gestures, and even the words themselves all suggested a childlike petulance, though this was merely another aspect of the princess's strategy. Revealing too much too soon would not suit her objectives, namely the unmasking of her clandestine opponent and the retrieval of her wayward little brother. Of course, her spoiled demeanor came with its own set of risks. Cornelia, while clever in her own way, tended to prefer direct confrontation and violence to the subtleties of political machination. Alyse had anticipated this, and fixed the game in her favor in the opening moves.

The knights who owed their loyalty to Britannia had been dispatched to retrieve James, without open-channel communicators. This meant that Cornelia would need to pry the communicator from Alyse's own, albeit feeble, hands to order a withdrawal. Furthermore, the only soldiers remaining in the palace at this point were members of the Amazigh-Tuareg Liberation Army, who swore their oaths directly to her. Several of them were clustered at strategic points, prepared to lurch into action at the slightest provocation. Cornelia would have a difficult time employing coercion under these circumstances, making it unlikely that Alyse's plan would be foiled. The current odds of success stood at about five-to-one, boring but safe. Taking on more risk during the opening stages would have been a folly.

Finally, the princess had amassed substantial intelligence records, including immediately available information pertaining to James's phone call and the two mysterious interlopers at the airport. She remained unsure of their identities, but the appearance of two ostensible nobles at a time like this couldn't result from mere coincidence, could it? Her theories regarding this matter were of a far more tentative nature, and would not have withstood a test of statistical significance. Nonetheless, Alyse was not perturbed. These facts just meant that she could garner more entertainment from the speculations. As the princess was in the process of ignoring her sister's pending outburst, her communicator began ringing again. Baltaser. Have we proceeded so quickly to check? she wondered.

She answered. "Your Highness," his voice hinting at befuddlement, "We have ascertained the identities of the two suspicious persons at this time. They are Sir Lucius Kingsley, the Knight-Commander of the Order of Saint Gabriel, and Lady Alice Henrietta Highland. The Knight-Commander has requested an audience, princess." A smirk flickered on the girl's face. Is that who has been cowering behind the curtain? she thought. Alyse might have laughed. This was going to be more interesting than she had anticipated. "Inform Sir Lucius that I will accept his request," the princess commanded, "Please, provide the gentleman and his companion with a worthy honor guard to ensure that they make it unmolested to the palace. This afternoon's tea will not disappoint!" She could practically feel Baltaser rolling his eyes. "As Your Highness commands," he allowed, his tone stoic.

"What of my brother?" the girl inquired, the purr of her hair-based contentment flowing into her tone. "We have deployed the Nigerian Guard and pinpointed His Highness's location," the officer explained, "We should be able to take him into custody within the hour. I will provide an update when the mission is accomplished." Alyse gave a curt nod, resulting in the brush tugging more forcefully against her hair than expected. She grimaced, but said nothing. "Lovely," the princess murmured, "Invite the officers involved in this operation to tea too. I want to torment Cornelia." She hung up before Baltaser could process this order and protest.

"It seems like we'll have some high notoriety guests at this afternoon's tea," she remarked idly, pretending as though she hadn't deliberately antagonized Cornelia seconds before. Her eyes fluttered open as she glanced back at Euphemia. "Tell me, Euphie," she questioned, "Are you familiar with Sir Lucius Kingsley? I've heard they call him the Phantom of the Frontier in Siberia. He sounds fascinating, doesn't he?" While her comment sounded like gossip, Alyse wanted to assess her sister's reaction since she had been the one who handed the phone over to James according to the pair of witnesses. Alyse wanted to corroborate her suspicions about who the caller might be.

---

Japanese Black Army Bunker
Tokyo, Britannian Occupied Japan
The Holy Britannian Empire

Snip.

As Yuri scuttled through the relative safety of the back alleyways that functioned like the veins of Japan's destitute underworld, the din of battle grew more and more distant. At the same time, the faces that peered out at him from the darkness grew more Asiatic in their features. Distrust hung palpably in the air. These people had been wronged by men who looked like Yuri in the past. They had grievances beyond counting, all of which coalesced then in that poignant moment, as the soldier ran from the war that had determined the course of his life up until that point. Four people, ostensibly civilians from the settlements who had wondered into the ghettos inadvertently in their desperate attempt to escape the carnage, still sprinted at his heels. All of the sudden, the force of a collision jolted through Yuri's body, knocking him to the ground. This was followed by the sound of rifles shifting to focus on him and his companions.

A group of men and women, plainly Japanese, were clustered around the entrance of a dingy building plastered with rotting graffiti that consisted of a peculiar mix of expletives and anti-imperial slogans. Faded reds, chalky blues, and piss-colored yellows all drew the gaze, not to mention the revulsion, of the casual passerby. The Japanese glared at Yuri, their dark eyes flickering with annoyance. "On the ground! Now!" a woman shouted coolly, methodically, "We won't hesitate to shoot!" At first glance, one would not have mistaken her as a career soldier. Her eyes were too lively, even in their fierceness, and her voice too measured. Another oddity was her age. She couldn't have been any older than twenty. Glancing around, Yuri would have observed that few of the Japanese who had surrounded his group were older than thirty.

"You shouldn't speak so harshly, Hinata," a man's voice interjected. His tone was laid-back and casual, though his words held a ring of charisma, of sagacity. "After all," the man continued, "Martin Buber argued that there were three principles in a person's being and life: the principle of thought, the principle of speech, and the principle of action. The origin of all conflict between a person and his or her fellows is that we don't say what we think and we don't do what we say. Remember, the tongue like a sharp knife kills without drawing blood, and murder is a sin in every nation that has ever been." The owner of the voice strolled from the entrance of the ramshackle building, a machine gun cradled in his spindly arms. He was bespectacled and handsome, though dark rings had formed around his eyes.

"But Kazuki!" the woman who was called Hinata protested, "They just saw a crucial weapons depot." The man smirked softly, stroking his chin with his right hand. "I suppose you're right," he conceded, "All the same, they shouldn't trouble us too much, and I am loathe to emulate the policies of our oppressors. We'll take them into custody until it is safe to release them. Make sure that they are fed and sheltered. After all, they are our comrades." With this comment, Kazuki, who seemed to be the commanding officer, turned his back on his new guests. The remaining Japanese, who seemed to be members of a resistance cell, quickly pulled the civilians, including Yuri, to their feet, blindfolding them and marching them towards some unknown destination. "Don't scream," Hinata instructed them, "Or we'll gag you. We'll also gag you if the Britannian army shows up."

Cornelia and Euphemia Li Britannia
Second and Third Princesses of the Holy Britannian Empire

Lagos , Britannian West Africa
July 19th, 2017 ATB

Cornelia and Euphemia, who just walked in Charlotte and Alyse's room , talked with their sister and when Alyse responded with an "I'm not telling in a snotty way, thats when things got ugly and of course Euphemia had to hold someone in particular back before someone else in particular got bruised.

"Did you just say "I'm not telling?" To me?! asked Cornelia

"Now now Cornelia, don't do anything you wouldn't do" Euphemia said. She soon regretted it after remembering Cornelia's warlike culture. And that "warlike culture" was soon revealed when Cornelia tried to pounce on Alyse.


"Lottie, I need a little help here!" Euphemia yelled.

"Alyse, tell them to leave James alone, he is fine!" Cornelia screamed as she tried to hurt her little sister

[Nuridia]

Upon Princess Charlotte's entrance, everything beside the piano keys still remained quiet. He played for two more times, before he finished, and would rather only feel the piano than playing them. He could hear little hiccups coming from the voice behind him.

"Are you crying, Lady Highland? Was my music too soft?"

"No... It's just... me imagining things..."

Charlotte must have recognized the voice by then.

"Please don't. Live your life as meaningful as possible, and you will not come up with things like this. Sadness is not a virtue.

... Princess Charlotte, please excuse our rudeness for not reporting our identities."

Alice turned around to see another woman peaking on them.

"Oh that's quite alright." "I recognize your voice though, Master Kingsley." "Or should I say, creep on the phone?" the princess joked somewhat snarkily. She then heard Euphemia yell from upstairs. "Excuse me, I've got to go now." "Goodbye." Charlotte said, running upstairs. "What in the blue, green, red and purple hells is going on here?" the princess asked when she saw Euphemia hold Cornelia back from attacking Alyse.

[Jordslag]

James licked the blood off his Knife. He had just- barely- killed three men without getting wounded, due to his Geass, but now he was lost in the middle of a Desert, being hunted by a Stubborn and Stupid Commander, with no good or Water, and couldn't get back on a plane. Alyse was in control. She had him in check, as usual- but not Checkmate. He hopped into a Knightmare and headed for Baltaser's Knightmare. Today would be fun. Baltaser was a bit boring of an opponent Though. Unlike Alyse, he always made the same moves. Once there, he set up a Comm Frequency with the Other Knighmares. "Ello, this is James. I'm here to kill you all. You can either head back now and get fired, or wait for me to beat you to a pulp and still get fired. Your Choice." He said. 'Check,' He thought. 'Now I just need to kill the Stragglers and lift off to Aden.' He readied the sword of the Knightmare.

[The Polarian Empire]

Upon Princess Charlotte's entrance, everything beside the piano keys still remained quiet. He played for two more times, before he finished, and would rather only feel the piano than playing them. He could hear little hiccups coming from the voice behind him.

"Are you crying, Lady Highland? Was my music too soft?"

"No... It's just... me imagining things..."

Charlotte must have recognized the voice by then.

"Please don't. Live your life as meaningful as possible, and you will not come up with things like this. Sadness is not a virtue.

... Princess Charlotte, please excuse our rudeness for not reporting our identities."

Alice turned around to see another woman peaking on them.

"Oh that's quite alright." "I recognize your voice though, Master Kingsley." "Or should I say, creep on the phone?" the princess joked somewhat snarkily. She then heard Euphemia yell from upstairs. "Excuse me, I've got to go now." "Goodbye." Charlotte said, running upstairs. "What in the blue, green, red and purple hells is going on here?" the princess asked when she saw Euphemia hold Cornelia back from attacking Alyse.

Euphemia Li Beitannia

Third Princess of the Holy Britannian Empire

Lagos , Britannian West Africa

July 19th, 2017 ATB


Euphemia sees Charlotte entering the room and one huge burden is lifted of of the pink gained Princess. Then hearing the disgust and surprise coming out of Lottie's mouth, Euphemia begins to explain the situation.

"Well Cornelia asked for the reason why Alyse sent units over to China to bring James back and all Alyse said was, I'm not telling" the 16 year old explained.

"I know you were busy and all but can you help

[Titananium]

Erwin Reinhold
July 13th, Southern China, 3.5 hours into Operation Goliath

Reinhold pulled the trigger one more time, and a chain reaction began in the barrel of the 120mm Gauss rifle his Knightmare was carrying. The cold steel let loose by powerful magnets, the one in front pulling the bullet, the one behind pushing it. The steel still cold exited the smooth-bore barrel at approximately 759 km an hour, heading for its target. At about 12 meter from its starting point the bullet slip open into four segments, each of the three thirds around the center segment flew away from the center piece.

Since it shed some weight it was now travelling at almost 800 km an hour, and closing in on its target an unsuspecting Britannian Knightmare. As usual the bullet hit right on target, penetrating the cockpit and hitting the exact location of the pilot. However during this process two highly explosive chemicals in very small amounts were being mixed inside of the round, the impact provided a good enough punch to trigger the explosives. Within seconds the Knightmare was made into a raging inferno, and anything still living inside was now turned into a crisp, as the temperature of those flames was over 800 degrees Celsius. It was his secret Anti-Knightmare weapon which he design himself, but he only had a limited amount, as his Knightmare did not have ammunition for days.

Reinhold had already lined another shot with his tracking interface. He pulled the trigger again, counting another kill "88". He checked his ammunition count, Erwin noticed he was beginning to run low on ammo, as he only had 32 shots left. He had left his ammunition storage in Shanghai, but a small amount of it was on the transport ship he came off, neither offered a close spot for restocking his Knightmare. He had two options at this point. Option one fire off his remaining shots easing the attack on the dwindling Chinese front line which is in desperate need of reinforcements, then retreat to his ammunition storage back in Shanghai without the ability to defend himself against enemy Knightmares in fire fight, or option two, leave now to restock and hope that the Chinese lines can hold on their own until reinforcements arrive, but have enough ammunition to face of in a firefight.

He though about why he was hired in the first place. He was hired to fight and kill enemy soldiers, but no where in his agreement does it say he needs to risk his own life to follow his orders. He went ahead with option three, fire of a couple of shots, then leave. He was not too fond of compromise, but in this situation it could save the lives of some poor schmuck down bellow on the battle field which could gain him some extra cash. It was a win, win situation that Erwin could leave with his head held high. Thus once again he aimed with his tracking system, lined up his rifle and fired off a shot. "Just 15 shots" Erwin told himself, "Then I leave this place"

[Evraim]

Oranmiyan Palace - Bedchambers
Lagos, Britannian West Africa
The Holy Britannian Empire

"Perhaps," Alyse suggested in a mischievous tone, "We could trade intelligence. I'll become far more obtuse as a result, but, at least, then we'll both have our questions answered." The girl gave a smirk, her cobalt eyes flickering with amusement. "That sounds fair, right, Lottie?" she said, appealing to the most rational person in the room, "After that, we'll go have tea with Sir Lucius and Lady Highland. I figured we'd go with a Sahel theme this afternoon since around half of our guests hail from that region." The princess giggled softly, still apathetic to her oldest sister's threats of violence. Almost instinctively, she continued her match against the AI.

The game had proceeded in her favor, even considering the early sacrifice of her queen, leading Alyse to suspect that her computational proficiency was higher than that of the program. It was a pitiable fact of life, one which made things so thoroughly dull. Looking bored, she made a few more sacrifices before trapping the king with her knight and the opponent's knight, calling checkmate after ten more moves. She had taken most of her major pieces of the board, dwindling away her material advantage for a positional one. This left her with a few crucial pieces and pawns. Her opponent had a definitive material advantage, but that was it. "Materialism is such a droll philosophy, don't you think?" Alyse murmured, not even bothering to explain if this statement was a double-entendre.

"Oh," Alyse piped up, "I almost forgot. James will be joining us for tea. I sent Nayram and Amadi to give him a special invitation." She winked conspiratorially at Cornelia, and then gazed more intently at Euphemia. "Now," the princess said coolly, "Tell me if you are familiar with the name Sir Lucius Kingsley, and I'll tell you about my suspicions regarding our sweet, little brother." Despite the chill in her voice, Alyse looked like a child in the midst of a game, wholly content and at ease.

[Jordslag]

James lifted off. "Oy, Catch me if you can!" He yelled to Baltaser. He leapt towards the Capital City, and, due to his increased speed on the part of the Knightmare, arrived at the Palace in a matter of hours. He landed hiss Knightmare next to Alyse's room, and smashed the window, though not her, with his sword. He opened the Cockpit and jumped on the Sword, barely balancing and nearly teetering down to his death. "Now, Alyse. You are in Checkmate. You can't have me die, and I can't stay here. So. Give me one good reason not to jump. I never liked Tea anyway, and Life is overrated. I would sacrifice it gladly at anytime for any reason I please. Give me a Plane, call off that Fool of a Commander, and I may consider not leaping. Your Move." He stated. He looked at the ground below. It was so clean, so fresh. Today, that might just change.

[Evraim]

Oranmiyan Palace - Bedchambers
Lagos, Britannian West Africa
The Holy Britannian Empire

Alyse frowned. "You're not the brightest crayon in the box, are you, little brother?" she inquired in a disinterested tone, "Tell me, do you truly believe that I would leave Lagos unprotected given your predisposition towards rash acts? I take it you encountered minimal resistance on the road. My men also conveniently neglected to pursue or intercept you, though your route gave no doubt as to your intentions, is this correct? In chess, we call this the Venus fly trap. I call checkmate." With this sentence, a light buzzing sound caught James's attention. One of the Nigerian Guard had unleashed a military-grade taser from his perch on the roof. As the boy glanced down, he would have spotted the charge protruding from the shallow burn wound in his chest. It would be swollen and discolored when he awoke, but, otherwise, no lasting damage would occur.

He teetered briefly, then fell for what seemed like an eternity. Suddenly, an underground panel swung open, and a knightmare frame darted towards James's stolen behemoth, catching the boy roughly in its gargantuan grasp. He would definitely be a little soar from the impact, but then that would serve as an adequate punishment for disposing of her pawns. "Take him to his bedchambers, Nayram," she instructed with the communicator, "And call my personal physician, just for save measure. I would rather not have Cornelia strangling me on the suspicion that I had murdered our little brother." The Berber officer gave an awkward salute with the machine, then lowered the boy into the arms of the waiting Nigerian soldiery. They would see to his needs from there.

With a light smile, the princess glanced gloatingly at Cornelia. "Aren't you at least somewhat pleased that I took the liberty of ensuring our dear brother's protection?" she asked. It was a taunt, and a low one at that, but Alyse had become apathetic to the game as soon as it was won. She had already presaged Euphemia's answer to her question about Sir Lucius. The pink-haired girl probably didn't know anything. It had been a tactic to acquire additional time, little else. All the same, Alyse would have her answers soon enough. "Now," the girl murmured, "If you'll excuse me, I have an audience to tend to. You can talk to Major General Taider to obtain updates on James's condition, though I cannot permit you to see him until such time as he has recovered fully."

This was a lie, but she couldn't have her sisters interfering with her machinations. The Nigerian Guard had been ordered to block entry to anyone with the sole exception of those whom she had given the green light to enter. The knights had been sent on a wild goose chase after imagined insurgents in the Sahel region to the far north. It would take at least an hour for them to return to the capital, and twice as long to organize to follow any of Cornelia's commands. By then, she would have dealt with Sir Lucius and Lady Highland, hopefully bringing the episode to a conclusion. For additional protection, she would order her physician to anesthetize the prince every thirty minutes or so, with lighter drugs. That would preclude the possibility of an escape.

Finally, after all these arrangements had been completed, she strolled towards the room that Lottie had rushed from moments before, her thoughts serene. I suppose I'll have to thank Nayram for this victory later, she reflected, adjusting her minuscule earpiece. This was the medium that had enabled her to know the situation through continuous updates from her people on the ground. She hadn't been able to coordinate a long-term strategy, but she had done the next best thing, sending a trusted commander and confidante to bring her unruly brother to heel. With a blissful smile, the girl wandered into the chamber where Sir Lucius and Lady Highland waited. Her appearance was impeccably regal, though her mannerisms were less so. She wore her lovely silver hair like a crown of starlight, flowing braids accentuating the tumbling free fall of the remainder. Her gown was woven from the lightest of sky blue silks, laced with the fur of an Arctic fox. Alyse was, in summation, more than charming, at least so far as looks were concerned.

"Cordial greetings, my lord, my lady," she said formally, "I thought I heard a melody coming from this room earlier. You play well, Sir Lucius." She smiled innocently, taking a seat beside him on the piano's bench. She then proceeded to replicate the song he had played, adding random variations to make the performance more grand. Her eyes were twinkling with subdued joy. "May I ask what business you have here in Lagos?" she inquired, pressing four keys down in a lackadaisical manner, "And whether you are in good health?"

[Gigaverse]

Lucius was not amused, to a point. The Princess replicated his tune almost perfectly, if not for the fact that she lacked any enthusiasm whatsoever and added variations just to make everything grandiose. Nevertheless, he was there to see her after all. His mind returning from the nine clouds after a brief period of distraction, he finally bowed to Her Highness.

"... oh, my apologies, Your Highness. It is my greatest pleasure to be attending this little... afternoon tea."

Once the formalities were done with, he started to answer her questions, one by one, but not necessarily in the original order:

"I myself am fine, though I assume that Lady Highland here cannot take more violent situations such as those back at the airport for another single second today... Can you, my Lady?"

The young woman shook her head.

"For such an occasion as this, I must be frank that my businesses are... not much. Discounting the fact that I am director of a business conglomerate, I treat this tour in Lagos as a holiday, since I have buried myself in work for the last 5 years or so. It is only reasonable that I choose the warmth of Africa to replace the coldness of Siberia.

... Your Highness, perhaps it would be more suitable for us to have a more proper tea by a table, wouldn't it?"

Lucius looked around the chamber for two seconds, then looked back at the Princess, awaiting her response.

[Jordslag]

James noticed his wound. "Oh, my." He said, sitting up. "She tasered me. How strange. But, now she can't do it again." He held his head in madness, and grabbed his Knife, hidden in a Back Pocket. "Goodbye, divided world. I hope I meet you in a less warlike day." He held the Knife to his throat... And cut. Only shallowly, but it was enough to knock him out and get him breathing. "Thank... You... Cruel God... Now I don't... Have... To see him... LeLouch... Again..." Were his final words before being knocked out.

[Eaglleia]

William impatiently tapped the armrest of his chair. The Britannians were already invading, but here he was, not yet deployed, still in Paris. Was it any wonder they had racked up so many losses against the Britannians? He sighed impatiently, getting up and walking around. "Is something wrong?" His uncle, who had the task of being one of the European Unions three Presidents, asked. "Plenty. Why am I still here when Britannians are right across the channel? Why haven't the full forces been deployed yet?" Did they perhaps not understand the severity of the situation? His uncle only frowned in response. "You are mistaken, we have dispatched a numerous force to the British Isles to fight back against the Britannians." He cleared his throat and took a drink from his glass. "Really? It doesn't seem to be showing. The Britannians are advancing." William responded curtly. "Not for long, I would think. Our forces are just on the verge of counter-attacking. Now, why don't you ask what you want to really ask-why didn't you get deployed there?" William opened his mouth to comment, though closed it once the third President raised his hand to silence him. "We considered it, and decided that you are to be deployed there as well-but not immediately. It would be imprudent to send too many of our forces to the isles when the Britannians could attack from anywhere. In any case, Britain is not where the Britannians current largest offensive is taking place." 'No.' Though William. 'But it's where most of my concern lies.

Though instead of saying that he questioned "Japan, then? It is of little concern to us. Leave that to the Chinese and the Japanese. Surely with the Britannians now divided across multiple fronts, they should be able to handle it. The British Isles should be our chief area of concern, or otherwise Africa and Russia. Or we should strike against the Britannians homeland while they are dividing up their forces. Now, today, when Britannia is at war with the world, is the best chance we are ever like to have."

"That may be so. But I did not say you are being deployed to Japan. We are more worried at present regarding the African front. There are rumours that both Cornelia Li Britannia, their Chief-General, and the 12th Princess, Alyse La Britannia are both in Nigeria." William cocked one eyebrow. "So?" He asked. "So"? His uncle sounded rather incredulous. "So? The Britannia best general and another one who has as of late being acquiring fame for impressive successes are in front of our yard and so is all you have to say?" 'Has all that time in military finally taken it's toll on your mind?' William blinked. His uncle had not voiced that second part. Where did it come from, then? ....'Ah.' He realized that it was that odd new...acquisition....of his. 'Geass. The man called it Geass.' William recalled whilst he consciously stopped using it. A mysterious person to be sure. He'd been alone in the deserts of Africa at the time, back when he was not yet a general, having lost in a minor skirmish involving a small number of EU forces against an also small but more sizable Britannian force. It had helped made sure he lived at the time, but he had no idea who that man had been what he wanted, or what it was, so limited the use of this strange power when possible.

"William?" William blinked again. He'd been too deep in thought for a moment there. "Cornelia has rarely lost a battle, this is true, but how could she? This has little to do with her being a brilliant strategist-in fact most of her battles involve brute force rather than actual tactics-but it is due to the Britannians overwhelming numerical superiority. Cornelia was given the rank for being a Princess of Britannia, that is all. And I don't know the other one, but I'm sure she is the same. Merit of blood over that of actual skill." He clarified his answer. "Are you certain that you are not, perhaps, underestimating them?" "I am quite certain, yes." His uncle only sighed in response. "Well, we-and by that I mean I, my fellow Presidents and our leading Generals-shall discuss the matter of division of forces again later, but for now, you shall be deployed to Africa, i'm afraid. Do not worry, I'll see to your transfer if it is necessary. Now, you should get some rest." At this, William sighed in defeat as both stood up from their chairs to head back to their respective quarters.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Slowly, Anzan wrapped his hands around the trigger on the inside of his Knightmare. An imperfect model, it could not yet match up en masse against the Britannians Sutherlands, but that they managed to obtain any Knightmares at all was miraculous in and of itself, so he wasn't complaining, though if they could ever get a model that could outmatch the Britannians at their own game, that would be perfect-and Rakshata was working on some. Idly, he wondered if she'd complete any of them any time soon. Being a genius of her caliber, it would no doubt deliver. 'Two.' He noted. The Britannians only had two Knightmares for this escort. Was it a trap? Or perhaps just raw Britannian arrogance. ....Yes, the latter was more likely. There had been no operations in this area prior to this one, isolated near the Himalayas as it was. However, the Britannians were hoarding supplies here, and cutting them off and seizing those now could prove vital in the long term. The main vehicle contained all the tracking information and locations of the depots. He positioned his rifle. "Prepare to fire." A few more meters, and the Britannian escort would detonate the mines set down earlier. Not nearly enough to take them out, but it would stun them momentarily and temporarily disorient them. With that, and the advantage of surprise, they would be able to overwhelm the Britannians Knightmares with their own three. Though in an open battle, it would more likely tilt towards the Britannians favour....which is why they weren't facing them openly on the field. Suddenly, one of the Knightmares came to a halt, followed by the rest of the convoy.

'...Shit.' Anzan thought, briefly. But it seemed the Britannians had not noticed them, as after a quick scope of the area, they carried on moving forward. Both reached the mines. "Fire! Knightmares, advance, fire on the enemy frames!" He gave the orders, and from both sides of the forest surrounding the road, his Knightmares lifted their rifles and fired at the same time the two set off the mines. The battle was relatively easy from there. There was no other support than an infantry fighting vehicle, which was quickly filled with holes, and the ground troops, who were few in number and easily overwhelmed. The enemy Knightmares attempted to react, but, slowed by the explosion, and the disadvantage of reacting too late, they were put down with some ease. "Try not to damage them too much. We can take them apart and use them for ourselves." After that, Anzan stepped out from his Knightmare. No casualties on their side, a few wounded.

Some of the soldiers, he noted, with some disdain, were "numbers" as the Britannians had named them. Why they chose to fight for the Britannians, he would never understand. Shaking his head, he went to stand next to his Lieutenant. "Lieutenant Ghale. How is it?" He looked back and saluted. "Sir. We'll have it open now." True to his word, the soldiers managed to pry open the doors from there. Only for the sound of gunshots to come through them. Anzan, along with most of the men, ducked down, though a bullet grazed the shoulders of one man. "Surrender, and we'll let you live!" His Lieutenant called. The enemy's gun seemed to jam for a moment, and Anzan and his men took this opportunity to train their rifles at him. "Fuck off! As if I'd surrender to you!" Was the crude response from the seeming officer in charge. Though his subordinates did not seem to share his confidence, as one man threw up his arms and jumped out the side door. The officer cursed under his breath, before aiming his weapon in that direction and shooting the man in the back. Anzan winced. While he was familiar with the Britannians ways, he had not expected the officer to do that. In addition to that, to leave himself unguarded so. Perhaps he just wanted to take out his anger on those he blamed for his loss before he died, to make sure they didn't get to live, which sounded suitably petty to be a Britannian solution. "You filthy numbers." The officer growled at them. "You'll get yours soon enough." He proclaimed. At this, his Lieutenant glared darkly, and so did Anzan himself. "We're not numbers." He told him simply, before pulling the trigger on his gun. "Gather the data, we'll move in to seize their depots over the week. Make it quick." Anzan frowned. The Britannian had seemed awfully confident. Perhaps they were moving in reinforcements...? No. That was not only unlikely, it was impossible. With the invasion of Japan ongoing, along with a massive war with the worlds other great powers, Britannia would not be able to hold India. It would soon be free.

[The Polarian Empire]

Euphemia li Britannia

Third Princess of the Holy Britannian Empire

Lagos, Britannian West Africa

July 19th , 2017




I, Euphemia li Britannia, am now angry! I left the room while Alyse what blabbing and Cornelia followed.

"Euphemia, are you alright. I didn't mean to explode like that. " Cornelia asked me

I took one deep breath and said " I want to kill her. ".

Cornelia walked me to our room as I cried. I didn't want Alyse or anyone to see me like this. I was even embarrassed when
my own sister asked me if I was ok. I decided that I would reach out to Alyse later on. I pulled put my cellphone and called James
but the phone just rang and rang... over and over. I didn't know who would pick up. So I waited.


While I waited I told Cornelia that I would start talking to Alyse to find out about this Sir Lucius guy.
"Be careful. Don't let her get to you!" Cornelia reminded me.

I left the room searching for Alyse, searching for answers.

[Urran]

Benjamin stood in a resistance base, as usual puffing on his electronic cigarette. He let his thoughts wonder over what had happened to him in the past few years, his father forcing him to join the military, his mother's death, joining the Japanese resistance even though he was the son of a Britanian noble. It was a complicated mess. He hid his face behind his hair and twiddled his Star of David necklace with his left hand. He was a Jew by blood after all.

[The BranRiech]

As Yuri scuttled through the relative safety of the back alleyways that functioned like the veins of Japan's destitute underworld, the din of battle grew more and more distant. At the same time, the faces that peered out at him from the darkness grew more Asiatic in their features. Distrust hung palpably in the air. These people had been wronged by men who looked like Yuri in the past. They had grievances beyond counting, all of which coalesced then in that poignant moment, as the soldier ran from the war that had determined the course of his life up until that point. Four people, ostensibly civilians from the settlements who had wondered into the ghettos inadvertently in their desperate attempt to escape the carnage, still sprinted at his heels. All of the sudden, the force of a collision jolted through Yuri's body, knocking him to the ground. This was followed by the sound of rifles shifting to focus on him and his companions.

A group of men and women, plainly Japanese, were clustered around the entrance of a dingy building plastered with rotting graffiti that consisted of a peculiar mix of expletives and anti-imperial slogans. Faded reds, chalky blues, and piss-colored yellows all drew the gaze, not to mention the revulsion, of the casual passerby. The Japanese glared at Yuri, their dark eyes flickering with annoyance. "On the ground! Now!" a woman shouted coolly, methodically, "We won't hesitate to shoot!" At first glance, one would not have mistaken her as a career soldier. Her eyes were too lively, even in their fierceness, and her voice too measured. Another oddity was her age. She couldn't have been any older than twenty. Glancing around, Yuri would have observed that few of the Japanese who had surrounded his group were older than thirty.

"You shouldn't speak so harshly, Hinata," a man's voice interjected. His tone was laid-back and casual, though his words held a ring of charisma, of sagacity. "After all," the man continued, "Martin Buber argued that there were three principles in a person's being and life: the principle of thought, the principle of speech, and the principle of action. The origin of all conflict between a person and his or her fellows is that we don't say what we think and we don't do what we say. Remember, the tongue like a sharp knife kills without drawing blood, and murder is a sin in every nation that has ever been." The owner of the voice strolled from the entrance of the ramshackle building, a machine gun cradled in his spindly arms. He was bespectacled and handsome, though dark rings had formed around his eyes.

"But Kazuki!" the woman who was called Hinata protested, "They just saw a crucial weapons depot." The man smirked softly, stroking his chin with his right hand. "I suppose you're right," he conceded, "All the same, they shouldn't trouble us too much, and I am loathe to emulate the policies of our oppressors. We'll take them into custody until it is safe to release them. Make sure that they are fed and sheltered. After all, they are our comrades." With this comment, Kazuki, who seemed to be the commanding officer, turned his back on his new guests. The remaining Japanese, who seemed to be members of a resistance cell, quickly pulled the civilians, including Yuri, to their feet, blindfolding them and marching them towards some unknown destination. "Don't scream," Hinata instructed them, "Or we'll gag you. We'll also gag you if the Britannian army shows up."

At the prompting of Hinata, Yuri quickly got to his feet with the help of some of the other Japanese. This was one of the resistance factions no doubt. It was all truly scary. Besides fighting on the same side of the EU, these factions were basically terrorists, each with different agendas on the list. The only faction the EU legitimately supported with financial and military aid was the Japanese Military, though occasionally, advertisements were run on Japanese TV stations and radio urging the natives to overthrow their colonial occupiers. Yuri didn't really care about the politics of it though, and was just glad to have been found by someone who didn't execute him for looking like a Britannian, which admittedly, nearly everyone in the EU did as well. "L-look, my friend." He stuttered, walking right behind Hinata. "I-I'm EU, you know? I'm Russian." He pleaded.