|Eternal Geass Moon: The Garden of Sinners
Author: AlfheimWanderer PM
What if magic was more prevalent in the world of Code Geass than met the eye? And what if the Geass Wars were just a cover for something greater? For do witches and warlocks with mysterious pasts not exist in this world, wielding powers beyond human? AURated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Supernatural - C.C. & Lelouch L. - Chapters: 22 - Words: 239,968 - Reviews: 199 - Favs: 152 - Follows: 110 - Updated: 12-21-10 - Published: 12-09-09 - id: 5568102
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Eternal Geass Moon : The Garden of Sinners
A Code Geass / Kara no Kyoukai story
Disclaimer: In this particular universe, I do not own or in any way shape or form hold a claim to the Code Geass, Kara no Kyoukai, any other elements of the Nasuverse, or any other modern works that I may reference in this story.
In the legends of nearly every civilization, there have been references to mysterious cultures on long vanished continents, of peoples that lived during a golden age, when the earth brought forth its bounty without the manifold labors of man, when dreams shaped reality, when all that man required could be brought forth by will alone—a time forever lost when a cataclysm born of hubris and war sank a legendary land, wiping out much of humanity in the process, with the scattered remnants forced to rebuild from what was essentially the Stone Age.
As the ages passed, the practitioners of these arcane arts faded into the shadows as technology kept on its inexorable advance, eliminating the need for mages for the most part. Still, magic and those who use it continue to exist today, and rumors linger of a strange lineage of magi isolated from the flow of time, carrying within their Codes (akin to Thaumaturgical Crests) powerful magic from a bygone age – a lineage of sorcerers known as Witches.
" " denotes speech
'bold' denotes location names
'bold italics' denotes skill use
Near Kururugi Shrine, 2010 ATB
Witch. A word that has alternately inspired deep respect or struck terror into the hearts of men, denoting a powerful practitioner of magic, linked intimately with the history of the world – for in the legends of nearly every civilization, there have been references to enchanters and enchantresses, power nearly on par with the gods themselves. So it is said, at least, in ancient myths of vanished utopia, speaking of a time when the earth brought forth its bounty without the labors of man, and humanity lived carefree—a time when dreams shaped reality, when all that man required could be brought forth by will alone.
'But that was a very long time ago, when the world was one…' thought a certain green-haired immortal, face neutral as she observed an exiled princeling and a prime minister's son at play, even as the skies of Japan grew dark as the silhouettes of thousands of VTOLs blotted out the sun, some bombarding the land from above, others swooping low to deploying swarms of Knightmares Frames to suppress resistance on the ground. 'Alas, that time came to an end quickly, just as this reprieve…'
"Well, it looks like it's time to move on, then," the Grey Witch murmured, her expression impassive as she looked up at the force mustered by the Britannians, considering her options. Fight? Difficult at best, considering that while she was a rather formidable immortal magician, she did not have the power to take on the entire Britannian army singlehandedly. "I don't want the Britannians to find me, after all…especially since V.V. took the trouble to send an army here to look for me."
'Two Magicians remain in the world where once were five…and one of them is an overly ambitious upstart who wants to get his grubby little hands on my Code, after taking his master's…' C. to herself as her hands clutched at the fastenings of the heavy woolen half-cape that she wore over her simple floor length black dress. 'It is really too bad that Lizleihi is no longer among the living, replaced by…that brother of Charles.'
The immortal shook her head, a small frown emerging at that line of thought, remembering how the insolent little boy who called himself V.V. had become Lizleihi's assistant, gaining a piece of her crest's magic and eventually the whole. When the wielder of the Third Magic had finally tired of her existence and chosen a successor, she had given her power to her young assistant, which V.V. had accepted, allowing Lizleihi to be freed from her fate at last.
'After his mother died in the Emblem of Blood Incident, he treated Lizleihi almost as a surrogate mother acting kindly—'
—until he had gotten his hands on her Code, that was.
'Still, I would never have expected him to turn against the world after that, or to become quite as treacherous and corrupt as he did. It was only later when I realized that the boy simply saw the world as a means to an end, having grown corrupt after a taste of the power of the ancient magics…'
For the Grey Witch remembered all too well what she had seen through Marianne vi Britannia's eyes on that fateful day a year ago, when a psychotically laughing V.V. had gunned down the Empress Consort, smiling triumphantly as he stood over her bloody body.
'If I had been physically present, I would have stopped him, but—'
C.C. hadn't, not having expected the treachery of V.V., and so had been away at the time, tending to negotiations with a certain architect/puppetmaker in Japan concerning a project to recreate the original human template. That day, the Witch had collapsed to her knees as the transferred images and feelings of pain flashed through her mind, along with a warning from Marianne not to return to Pendragon, as the black haired woman expired from her wounds.
'It makes me uneasy to see the miracle of materialization of the soul in the hands of that boy, as well as some fragments of time manipulation we salvaged from the Fourth…as he will no doubt use these abilities to his advantage in the coming power struggle…a struggle in which I will have to use Japan as a base.'
Knowing that, and that V.V. would almost certainly come to hunt her down in order to complete his "collection", C.C. had asked the master of the Second Magic for assistance, as his power over parallel worlds would have undoubtedly proven useful, but—
'Zelretch was always difficult to deal with at the best of times…and that was before we started rubbing off on each other,' C.C. recalled with a wry smile, as the image of the grizzled Wizard Marshal came to her mind, looking very much like a dignified and gruff old man—and nothing like the prankster/practical joker Zelretch often was. 'Of the three of us who survived the Cataclysm, he always did wear his immortality best, finding amusement in the little things…but then, he's already seen the other possible worlds, thanks to Kaleidoscope, and will not interfere anymore unless absolute necessary…'
For that reason, the master of the Second Magic had decided to open a strange café as a refuge from the rest of the world…a shop with two entrances, each of which opened into thousands of different parallel worlds, allowing for otherwise impossible encounters.
'The interdimensional café Ahnenerbe…called the place of impossible meetings,' the immortal mused, as the Grey Witch proceeded quickly but quietly towards a hidden safehouse, the sound of her footsteps drowned out by the distant thunder of explosions and the screams of jet engines. 'It may be prudent to pay Zelretch a visit before I go into hiding, if just to warn him of the war that will soon be upon us. At the very least, I will get some decent pizza out of my efforts, as the Wizard Marshal always has his familiars make me some any time I come to visit. Quite thoughtful of the man, as pizza is one of the few things that reminds me of our lost home…'
The green-haired woman shivered, remembering the final moments of that war-torn land, her gloved hands reaching into the pockets of her skirts, clutching a heavy pistol made out of some unknown metal – the conceptual weapon Black Barrel, forged as a weapon against immortals and others with unnatural lifespans—the very same that had brought down the user of the Fifth Magic in the great war of long ago.
Immortality, after all, did not mean invincibility or freedom from pain, as the bitter years had taught her—for though C.C. would rise every time she was killed, once she was killed the first time, her enemies could simply kill her repeatedly to prevent her from becoming a threat.
'Or restrain me in a situation where I am unable to fully revive without dying again and again, which is worse…and incredibly painful.'
It had happened to her once, during the great war of her memory, with a traitorous faction of the Council of Five Immortals "killing" her and sealing her away to prevent her from intervening in the events to come. This action had been the beginning of a civil war between those loyal to the Grey Witch and those opposed, each warring with one another over the power of the First Magic.
Considering the nature of humanity, a species that could be fractious and self-serving even in times of plenty, it should have been expected, but it hadn't, and eventually that empire had fallen, destroyed, along with the continent it had spanned vanishing into the depths of the sea, with almost all traces of it ground away by the march of time, with what tattered remnants of humanity forced to rebuild from the very beginning, now that the First Magic was lost to them.
'How strange that the miracle called "Denial of Nothingness" should cause all to return to nothingness in the end, as the power of creation is also that of the apocalypse…'
Only three had survived that war, and now, with the Second anchoring himself to a place between worlds, and the Third having made the unwise decision to pass on her Code, the Grey Witch found herself alone, as she had been in the beginning, a solitary figure isolated from the flow of time, hunted by humanity at large.
'But that is what it means to be a Witch…to be a Lady of Eternity, as the curse of this lineage is to live eternally young until I either pass my power to a successor – or have a child, who will inherit my abilities when she comes of age, while I fade into oblivion. And I do not wish to make anyone else suffer my fate, to become a girl left behind by time…'
A girl burdened with the knowledge of forgotten years, techniques, cultures…knowledge that in many cases translated directly to power (no surprise, as the words that correspond to "witch" in most languages originally stem from the word meaning 'to know'). For that reason, the Witch had never loved, nor considered it—especially as the conclusion of any such love could only end in tragedy, for that was a Witch's fate. Nor did she really trust many people, or even like many people, choosing to maintain a distance in order to survive, having only developed a relationship with Lizleihi and Zelretch due to necessity, though after the first few years, they had become friends of a sort—the only ones she had in all the world.
'A world that may not be long in existence, if V.V. gets his way…while I acknowledge that memories are powerful things, and that as long as someone remembers us, we never truly die—I do not want to live in a world ruled only by memory.'
Still, for now, all the Witch could do was keep moving and head for shelter, ready to defend herself against attack if need be, hoping to ride out the storm and stay under the radar until she was ready to make her move, wishing she had paid more attention to one of her old dreams.
'After I meet Zelretch, I will need to find that architect and consult with her, as a terrible premonition can bring forth a terrible reality…'
For an instant, the air seemed to waver over the form of C.C., obscuring her from sight for brief moments, till the winds stilled, and with a flash of crimson light, the Geass Witch vanished.
As the home and workshop of a sorcerer, Café Ahnenerbe was an unexpectedly welcome place, without a smothering blanket of wards of concealment and security wrapped around its main entrances. But then, when the many storefronts that could be seen by those in need of a refuge from the world were merely illusions, gateways to a place between parallel worlds controlled by the store proprietor's thoughts, one could well understand exactly why excessive precautions were not needed.
Even more strange, Café Ahnenerbe was the kind of place one walked by every day without really noticing, without the ostentatious signage, plate glass windows, and colorful menu of specials announcing its presence to the world, no posters of upcoming events or band performances, nothing that made it stand out. Well, save for the fact that its two storied timber-framed building with a base of brick was reminiscent of a shop in one of those rustic "European" villages one might find dotted and there, with warm yellow light spilling out from the café's interior through the windows—and the fact that it had two separate entrances on opposite sides of the store.
Clip-clop clip-clop clip-clop. Swish - Pause. Clip-clop clip-clop clip-clop.
It was outside this place that a green-haired shadow appeared, her pitch-black fabrics of her cape and dress rustling as she stood before one of the doors, hesitating for a moment as if uncertain of whether to use this or the other, then shook her head and made up her mind, setting foot through one of them, footsteps echoing in her wake.
The soft tinkling of bells sounded as the Grey Witch made her entrance, glancing about at the interior, to find it much as she expected, a quiet place where those who wished could enter and enjoy a rest from the world in a place outside of time, with the shop decorated with antiques from a man's long travels, as if towelcome those lonely, or lost, or just weary, providing a place to be alone, but not entirely bereft of human company, a place to contemplate life, away from its manifold rigors.
'How appropriate for old Zel…' the Witch thought to herself, smiling ever so slightly as her curious amber eyes fell upon the figures of two young girls bustling to and fro in the shop, nodding mutely as they jotted down the orders of customers, their faces mirror images of one another, the skirts and tassels of their ornate gothic lolita dresses (not to mention the oversized bows in their hair) flouncing up and down with each step they took—even as now and again, she caught them eying a display of the shop's famous strawberry pie.
'Almost twins, though there are some differences, as one wears black and the other white, with the one in black possessing hair of sky blue, while the other has hair of white…somewhat like Mao.'
C.C. paused for a moment at the thought of that particular boy, whose mind and body had been twisted from incompatibility with the piece of the Thaumaturgical Crest she had bestowed onto him, remembering the terrible things that he had done – and how she had been forced to kill him in the end, ending his life with a shot from the Black Barrel, the weapon that had killed so many in its time.
Hearing the rustle of fabric and approaching footsteps, C.C. looked up to see, the young blue-haired girl in black approaching her before reaching out to tug on the Grey Witch's sleeves, pointing silently at a private booth in the corner.
The immortal merely nodded, allowing herself to be pulled along by the cute mute, even while her acute magical senses detected a strange flow of mana passing from somewhere in the building to the girl currently tugging on the sleeve of her dress.
'I recognize this familiar, though not the other…' C.C. mused, one of her long, slender eyebrows arching upwards. 'Zelretch was never one to give out pieces of his Crest, so a familiar is more likely—though I've never heard of a human used for that purpose. Usually it's a bird of some sort—though a cat is fine too. Then again, this is the master of the Second Magic, so I suppose he could have found them in another world…'
Upon arriving at the booth, the immortal thanked the girl for showing her the way, and then sat down, smoothing out her skirts, even as the black-clad girl departed, and the white-clad one approached, setting a piping hot pan pizza and a bottle of white wine before the immortal, both of which C.C. accepted gratefully.
"Thank you," the Grey Witch spoke, watching in amusement as the white-clad girl responded with a small but elegant curtsey before moving back to handle the other customers. 'And now, while Zelretch hasn't shown his face yet, I might as well enjoy some of this heavenly pizza…and calm my nerves with wine…'
Warm, moist, chewy, every bite filled with rich flavors. Creamy cheeses, an almost sharp taste of tomato, a hint of herbs and spices, well-seasoned pepperoni, and—
"Enjoying the free meal?" came a very familiar voice, with C.C. almost dropping her pizza in shock, barely managing to save the slice as a figure appeared in the seat across from her with an audible 'pop.' Twas, of course, a grizzled man in black and silver tunic and trousers, a cloak draped over his shoulders, the store's seldom seen proprietor, who smiled gruffly, with a barest hint of a twinkle in his eye as he laid eyes upon the immortal – Zelretch, Wizard Marshal, master of the Second Magic – a lover of pranks, practical jokes, and occasionally prone to hamminess.
'And someone I have been tempted to blast into oblivion a few times over the last millennia…'
Oh, indeed, it was…tempting to just materialize a sword or something of the sort, and simply—
She shook her head to clear it of such thoughts, knowing that such a response would be…impolite, especially as her old…friend always did pick up her tab when she came to Café Ahnenerbe, the Grey Witch swallowed the momentary impulse, instead resorting to a baleful glare, an effect that was somewhat spoiled by her finishing the slice of pizza and wiping her mouth with a napkin.
"Kishua Zelretch Schweinorg…you haven't changed at all," C.C. spoke, noting that the man seemed to love his dramatic appearances as much as he always had. "Except perhaps, for showing better business sense than you once did…I remember well when you tried to run a flower shop."
"Heh, well, this is certainly a surprise, Cy—"
But the green-haired witch cut him off with an upraised hand, shooting the Sorcerer one of the imperious looks that had once been enough to silence a crowd.
"It's C.C., remember?" the Grey Witch chided dryly, though as always, the old man was…unfazed, merely turning to one of the approaching familiars and requesting his usual order – a glass of rose wine and a shepherd's pie.
"So it is. Forgive this old man, it's been a while," Zelretch replied casually, rather used to the Witch's attitudes, since really, he was one of the few friends she had. "So what brings you out here tonight?"
". . . " was the response, as she stared wordlessly at him, as though the answer should be obvious.
"Ah, yes, the invasion of Japan and V.V.'s actions," the wizard said after a moment, responding to his own question. "And you have come to ask me for my help in the struggle, correct? Or for a possible reading of how things will go, based on how they have gone in other worlds, even though Kaleidoscope is not an oracle, as you should know?"
A simple nod, as the Witch resigned herself playing the part of the supplicant—for once.
"That, and transportation to Mifune, where several prospective allies await…" C.C. mentioned with an eloquent shrug, turning back to eat her pizza before it got cold.
"The last is easily done, I suppose, since I do have a storefront there," Zelretch answered, raising one of his graying eyebrows. "However, the others…"
"I am well aware that your magic's divination abilities are not absolute, and often are reflections of truth, distorted through the lens of infinite probabilities," the Grey Witch responded gravely, her lips twisting up into a semblance of a smile. "As you have mentioned every other time I've brought it up. Trust me, my memory isn't quite as bad as yours, old man."
The two were interrupted briefly by one of the two familiars arriving with the old man's drink and food order, with the master of the Second Magic pausing to wet his throat before replying.
"Hmm…an uncommonly good vintage," the man remarked idly, regarding the madder colored liquid as it gleamed in the candlelight of the booth with seeming little concern for aught else. "Though sometimes I find myself hard-pressed to remember exactly where I obtained it from—or rather which 'where.'"
"This being the point when you bring up that you deal with a multiverse's worth of issues, and so do not generally choose to act, as your prophecy is uncertain?" came the tired reply. "And you don't want to make a mess of things, remembering what happened during the last time, am I right?"
From a pocket of his coat, Zelretch withdrew a crystalline short sword, its jewel blade taking in and scattering the ambient light into many points and rays.
"Infinite possibilities, infinite acts…the future is a troublesome thing, really," the old man murmured, glancing once at the Grey Witch. "If even light itself is composed of many varied pieces, imagine the complexity of human interactions, paths and intersections, divergences. I have seen many worlds…some in which we do not exist, some in which things end badly, some in which things end well, each a twisted echo of the next. In most of them…you don't succeed."
The green-haired witch counted slowly to twenty under her breath, deliberately not looking at the almost pitying expression on the old man's face, lest she be tempted to use the First Magic and accidentally materialize an explosion or something of the sort. Obliterating the café would not change what he saw, after all, and it was anathema to her nature to eliminate a place where she was guaranteed free food in this tedious age.
"And your point is…?" C.C. asked frostily, the words falling from her lips like chips of ice. "What happened to your adventurous spirit, old friend?"
A sigh and a distant gaze.
"Vanished after Camlann and the debacle with Nimue, I'm afraid," Zelretch answered simply, turning the jewel dagger as it splintered liquid light in all directions, refracting it into shimmering points that blinked in and out of existence rapidly. "After all that we both have lost over the last millennia, I do not wish to see you pass away as well, caught in a war that you lose more often than you win."
"You're going to offer me safe refuge in another world, aren't you?" the Grey Witch inquired, already knowing the answer.
A slow, but firm nod.
"If happiness had a form, it would be something like glass," the master of the Second Magic said after a moment. "Something that one doesn't notice normally, but there nonetheless, as evidenced when one is without it. For all your age, that is something you have not yet learned, C.C., since you continue to intervene as you do…"
"It's something to do, at least, and I can pass myself off as a normal magus," C.C. replied, taking a sip of her wine. "There is happiness…sometimes. But right now…"
"You still feel that you were at fault for not seeing through Lizleihi's apprentice before it was too late, don't you?" the dimensional sorcerer asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.
"I do have dreams of a sort, glimpses of what is to come…and nightmares of what happened an age ago," the green-haired witch murmured softly. "So many who died in that war, so much devastation, over the power I wield, that power which caused only destruction in the end. As one who has taken too many lives, who was incapable of saving those who needed me, I must take responsibility, atoning."
"Your enemy is similar, you realize?" Zelretch said gently, trying to dissuade his old friend from her course of action—but knowing that she was as stubborn as he was, if not more. "A boy who resolved that if could not save anyone, he would at least end this current world so that there could be no more meaningless deaths."
A bark of harsh laughter.
"Which is why I must be the one to stop him," the Grey Witch responded, setting down her wineglass with a solid thunk. "Once again, a war has started for the power of the First Magic, and as one who could do nothing in the war where you and I lost our homes…"
"Ah," the Wizard Marshal spoke, that one word eloquently summing up the argument of the Witch Queen. "Once again, you are the cause of a war…"
"An unbearable thought…" C.C. muttered distastefully. "If I do not fight, then Lizleihi's Magic is perverted for his use, with a corrupt ritual manifesting the collective soul as a result. If I do, there is a chance that he might win the First Magic and change the world in that way. And then, there are the fragments of the Unified Language scattered about—that which people call Geass."
"I understand, but it is not my place to become involved directly…as that is my atonement in a way," Zelretch noted, lips set in a grim line, even as he raised his glass of wine. "I will, however, pull my presence from this world for a time, so that your foe will not find me and thus make your life more difficult. In any case, I will drink to your survival, and hope that we will meet again, Witch."
"Likewise, Wizard Marshal," came the smooth reply. "To separations and meetings once again, when all is said and done."
"…with you, nothing is ever truly said and done."
The soft sound of two wine glasses clinking together in the dim light, of desperate wishes that the Grey Witch knew in her heart could never be fulfilled.
Osaka Settlement, Area 11 – 2017 ATB
Amidst the frozen of night, rainwater ran down the edge of a bloodied knife, loosely clutched in the hand of a wraith as she slunk silently through the shadows, the irises of her eyes glowing with a startling iridescent blue light as she sought her objective with nearly inhuman focus, her form that of a drawn sword to any who might look upon her.
With a sudden blur of movement, the wraith tossed the combat knife over her shoulder, the implement flashing as it stabbed into the point of death of a lunging guard dog that had sought to strike her from behind, ending its existence.
In utter silence, the young woman walked to the stricken beast and placed one of her booted feet upon the mastiff's face for leverage, closing her fingers over the weapon's handle and ripping it free with a savage twist, as the creature sputtered a quiet death rattle, covering up the sound of the fabric of her midnight purple blouse and floor length skirt squishing ever so slightly as she moved, feeling the cold weight of the katana slung across her back.
Her boot-clad feet stalked through the night with miniscule sounds that barely qualified as footsteps, deliberate to a fault, with each twitch, minor as it was, seemingly premeditated and planned in advance, with the end result an inexorable advance that was relentless, intense, and promised oblivion to anything in her way—as those few who had met her knew well, and those who faced her in combat knew to their everlasting regret, as it was often the last thing they saw—the chilling and unnerving sight of a harbinger of death, a beautiful grim reaper, with ominous blue eyes and black hair flowing like water.
Ever since the day she had awakened from her coma, having lost both of her parents to a Britannian air raid over Mifune (with her relatively spared because a certain Witch had thrown herself over the young girl, shielding the Satsujinki's daughter from fatal damage with a death that had proven quite difficult to regenerate from), the last Ryougi had never really been the same.
For though she still wore a sweet façade, the girl was damaged within, her cold blue eyes holding shadows of things past—for in her coma, coming near to death, she had found herself drifting, dreaming, floating through a shapeless void of shadows, clad in naught but the skin she had worn since life's beginning. How she had reached here, she did not know, could not remember, yet here she was in this primal ocean, the well of human consciousness.
A world where nothing existed, a primordial「Akasha 」 from which she had been pulled back only by whispering strands of light — borrowed life-force from a sorceress whose Magic governed creation — or rather, allowed her to deny the void.
She had awoken from that place into an alien world, where those she loved were gone, with only a green-haired witch beside her—the one who had pulled her from that darkness, who had ended up saving her—though in the process, her eyes had become connected to that place, her "death" bringing to the fore her ability to see into the heart of things, a greater nightmare than anything Britannia could bring at her—a nightmare she now visited on them.
Pause. Listen. Sniff.
The faint wind carried the musky scent of unwashed sweat wafting to her nose, two mingled odors standing out, as distinct as night and day. The soft sound of defenseless voices chattering, soldiers who had come to expect nothing out of the ordinary.
'A pair of Britannian soldiers on sentry duty…'
Or so she suspected, glancing towards the voices to see two human forms standing roughly at attention, with jagged lines crisscrossing their bodies, as well as that of the rifles in their hands.
These soldiers had the misfortune to be guarding the research facility where a Witch was being held—a witch that Mana Ryougi owed her life to, like it or not…and the daughter of the late boss of Mifune always repaid her debts.
'I came home to find blood splattered on the floor, with signs that a scuffle had taken place, with scoring in the walls and with the military hauling away several bodybags in a truck—consistent with the Witch's primary weapon of sharp wires manipulated by magecraft.'
Still, she knew that the green-haired sorceress had survived the encounter…and more, that she had been carried off in the truck, as the immortal witch's soul link to Mana remained active to this day.
Thus, after waiting for some time to negate suspicion by any watching, the assassin had followed the trail of mana on her Vespa scooter, towards a place that smelled of death and suffering, where death exploded into her vision…and vanished several times over.
Back in the present, the young girl had narrowed her eyes, concentrating as she visualized the distance between—
A glowing line appeared in her vision—the concept of the distance between her and her unwary prey, the guards outside the facility where C.C. was being held.
The knife flashed down and a boom rent the air, with the sentries looking up to—
Two small clinking sounds echoed as knife lightly tapped the barrel of two rifles, then several heavier, considerably louder thunks as the weapons fell apart in their hands.
Hands opened and closed reflexively, as a quiet laugh sounded.
Feeling something hot, the soldiers recoiled, leaving their sliced off arms behind as their eyes open in terror, taking an involunt—
Squelch. Slice Slice Slice.
A sound of tearing flesh, as red liquid intermixed with the pooled rainwater, with the shredded pieces of two bodies strewn on the ground, as the girl in midnight purple advanced towards the—
A roar and a flash of light deep within the facility, as the outer wall erupted outward in a madder red blossom of destruction, the shockwave knocking Ryougi on her backside as another truck came screaming through, with panicked cries from within—and the Witch on board the transport of the terrorists.
Seeing this, the lips of the wraith twitched downwards almost imperceptibly as she picked herself up off the soaked ground, eyes watching as the truck faded into the distance.
A/N: And so a new story begins...though I will issue this as a warning – I will probably post a little more slowly than with my last fic, as this is a more thorough integration of Code Geass with the Nasuverse. Yes, Lelouch is getting an equivalent of Absolute Obedience, though modified to fit into the standards of the Nasuverse, meaning either Mystic Eyes of Enchantment…or Unified Language. Questions, comments, concerns? PM me if you will. And of course, do leave a review, if possible, as where would we writers be without feedback from readers?