Disclaimer: Code Geass is the property of Sunrise, Bandai et al. No money is being made from this fanfic and it will be removed if the above parties so request. All your base are belong to us.

Code Geass: Lelouch of the Awesomeness

The rising sun blessed the closed eyelids of a certain Lelouch Lamperouge, Eleventh Prince of the Holy Britannian Empire, alter ego to the masked revolutionary known as Zero, genius, warrior, leader, lover, and all-around badass. He arose from his bed with a manly groan, glancing fondly (but not sappily) at the beautiful and very naked green-haired witch who had lain next to him. A sardonic smirk adorned his handsome features as he recalled the very pleasant physical activities they had engaged in the previous night. C.C. rolled over in her sleep and murmured his name, followed by something about pizza. Since the author had now used up both personality traits he had bothered to give her, Lelouch took his leave of the golden-eyed witch and went to start his morning workout.

Emerging from the shower, the black-haired teen examined his newly muscular physique in the mirror (though because this isn't an icky slash fic, the details of said physique will remain unstated). Since he started exercising a few weeks ago, he had rapidly progressed towards peak physical fitness. No more being left puffing and groaning in that idiot Suzaku's wake...and his female acquaintances certainly seemed to appreciate it. His royal purple eyes glittered (but did not sparkle) at the memories.

(It can be presumed that at this point Lelouch went to check that Nunnally was still sleeping. However, this scene shall be skipped over as the author has deemed Nunnally to be excessively girly and insufficiently awesome to appear in this fic. Wait till he gives her a cyborg body in chapter 27, though...)

Entering his closet (C.C. still slumbered on the bed, worn out by last night's activities), Lelouch tapped the proper code into the hidden keypad and descended to his secret base in the cunningly concealed elevator. He had started constructing it about three years ago when he began seriously planning his destruction of Britannia, using it to store weapons, sensitive data and other resources. He had acquired a good deal more of all three recently with his Geass, and now he possessed a large enough collection of equipment to outfit a small army. The base also stored his personal Knightmare, the Longinus, and a test chamber where he could put it through its paces.

In the armoury, he surveyed the racks of swords, pistols, rifles, rocket launchers, and other things the author knew the exact manufacturer, calibre and miscellaneous statistics of due to long hours spent reading Tom Clancy novels. (The question of whether specific real-world firearms would exist in Code Geass' alternate history is left as an exercise for the reader.) He first selected his katana, the Blood Dragon, from its stand and drew the titanium blade from its sheath. (A person claiming to be a trained materials scientist had reviewed one of the author's fics once and said that making a titanium katana would be both foolish and pointless, but he was having no truck with such boringness; 'titanium' sounded cool.) He grasped the smooth snakeskin handle in a firm two-handed grip and swung it from side to side, testing its exquisite balance. Satisfied, he took up a ready stance in front of the full-length mirror and performed a hundred strokes, exhaling smoothly with each lightning-fast slash.

With that complete he returned the Blood Dragon to its sheath and picked up his favourite handgun, a silver-plated Ares Arms (TM) HK-47-C1776 custom .69 calibre job called the Divine Thunder. It had blue-green laser, infra-red and telescopic sights, single-shot, semi- and full-auto modes, a superalloy coating on the inside of the barrel to resist the 3178-degree heat of the ignition of the oxy-hydnite nano-powder propellant, and used 46.877mm long discarding-sabot shells containing depleted phlebotinum (TM) penetrating darts with a diameter of 12.782mm and oxy-hydnite explosive tips. The muzzle velocity was 2378.96662 m/s, which with the penetrating power of the phlebotinum (TM) bullets allowed it to punch a hole in 36.55432mm of armour. It weighed 3.66789 kilograms, the serial number was 999666, the gunsmith who made it was called Gunther and lived happily with his boyfriend in Mainz, and it could make a mean slice of toast.

(The Ares Arms (TM) HK-47-C1776 can be purchased from reputable arms merchants at a very reasonable price. Buy now!)

Hefting the long-barrelled, comfortably sturdy weight of the weapon in his hands before lowering it to a safe position just below his belt, Lelouch made his way to the targeting range. Six dummies in the shape of Britannian soldiers in Shining Dragon (TM) passive-reactive opto-kinetic energy-dissipative nanoweave body armour (available while stocks last from VillainSupply) were already set up. At a touch of a button, the range's control computer randomly moved concrete slabs up and down and from side to side in front of the targets and hauled the dummies themselves across the floor to simulate movement and give Lelouch only narrow windows of opportunity to get clean shots. Eyes narrowed, the teen slowly raised his weapon to ready position, focusing his chi and natural kinaesthesia (the author had no idea what that word meant, but it sounded awesome) to find the perfect moment...then moved on the spot in a blur of economical motion and fired six shots in quick succession. Six darts of depleted phlebotinum (TM) flew out, discarding their jackets in flight, pierced the helmets of six dummies and detonated their explosive tips, sending six jets of white-hot metal through the spaces where six soldiers' brains would be. Six simulated corpses tumbled to the ground as the computer released their puppet strings. Six gouts of smoke rose from the floor, while Lelouch blew a seventh from the barrel of the Divine Thunder with a delighted smirk.

He carefully disassembled, cleaned, reassembled and stowed the pistol before heading out to warm up for his morning five-mile run.


Jogging along the street, which was brightly lit by the morning sun but almost deserted at this early hour, the purple-eyed teen met Kallen coming the other way. He waved to her, and as she approached he took the opportunity to enjoy the sight of her voluptuous but athletic body in sports bra and bike shorts, her golden skin glistening healthily, her red hair flying in the wind, her heart-stopping curves in all the right places, and other things the author liked to think about when he was alone.

"You're up early," he said with a grin as they fell into step next to each other.

"I'm not letting you leave me behind, oh fearless leader," the curvaceous pilot explained in a low voice with slightly flirtatious notes. "Besides, getting out was easy today. My stepmother's away, so I've got the house to myself."

"Oh?" Lelouch asked innocently.

"Can you fit another workout into your busy schedule?" Abandoning subtlety, Kallen batted her eyelashes.

"I can always make time to see to my subordinates' physical well-being."



Lelouch still wore a satisfied grin as he stalked the corridors of Ashford Academy like a hunting panther, acknowledging the squees and blushes of passing girls with regal waves and nods. After another rigorous but satisfying 'workout' with Kallen, he had returned home to change, only to be cornered in the shower by a reinvigorated C.C. Good times. Good times indeed. He was late for his first class, of course, but no-one would dare to challenge him about it, except-

"Lulu!" the strident but melodious voice of a certain redhead barked at him. Shirley was standing in front of him, hands on her hips in a pose that Lelouch had to admit he found highly alluring. "What kind of time do you call this? You were out gambling all night again, weren't you? I-"

"You know, Shirley," Lelouch said calmly, interrupting her tirade, "You should frown less. A smile suits your face so much better." Boldly and masterfully, he reached out and stroked a finger gently down her cheek. The orange-haired girl stared at him in befuddlement and arousal (because being talked down to and sexually harassed was apparently a big turn-on for her, at least according to the author). His work done, Lelouch strode onward in a manly fashion, leaving Shirley weak-kneed and drooling in his wake.


"...and that's why the punishment for running in the corridors should be increased to..."

Lelouch stifled a yawn as Suzaku droned on into the silence of the council chamber. God, that guy was annoying, he thought. Why had they ever been friends? (Why indeed, the author snarled, hurling another dart at his Suzaku poster.)

Something brushing against his leg aroused him from his torpor. He looked up sharply in time to catch a flirtatious grin from a certain blonde just as her stockinged foot caressed his calf a second time. She wriggled distractingly in her seat, playing with a pencil in a highly suggestive manner. Lelouch returned the smile with cool suaveness.

"Yes, that's very interesting, Suzaku," Milly said as the green-eyed Japanese boy finally paused in his rambling, "And I'll certainly consider it. But I think we've been here long enough and it's time everyone got a chance to rest and relax...in bed or otherwise."

Suzaku spinelessly nodded obedience, while Rivalz suppressed a nosebleed, Shirley spluttered in embarrassment and Nina blushed fiery red - probably planning to fantasize about Euphemia and do immoral things to an innocent piece of furniture, Lelouch thought in disgust. Everyone shuffled out while he and Milly remained in their seats.

"I thought that would never end," the busty golden-haired president said, stretching in a way that made Lelouch's pulse quicken then getting up and walking round the table.

"Tell me about it," he agreed.

Milly stepped behind his chair and leaned down to put her arms around him, two delightful warm soft things pressing against his back. "I had to think about something nice to get through it."

"Oh?" He reached up and skilfully stroked her hair, making her purr like a cat. "Do tell."

"I'd rather show you..."

It was hard work being him, Lelouch thought as their lips met, but damn if it wasn't rewarding.


Back in his underground base, he decided to perform a systems check on the Longinus before heading out for tonight's Black Knights meeting - he wouldn't be needing the machine, and there wasn't time to take it for a proper spin. With its chameleon and variable-geometry systems inactive, the Knightmare resembled a Classical statue dipped in molten metal, its head a featureless oval like the Zero mask. Lelouch clambered athletically into the machine's cockpit, which slid open with smooth efficiency at the touch of his hand to the palmprint scanner. His fingers moved nimbly over the consoles as he monitored the output of the onboard arc reactor, powered up the active-camouflage radar-absorbent nanodot coating on the plasma-steel hyperalloy armour, and deployed the vectorable turbo-scramjet nozzles of the flight system. Piezoelectric actuators and hydraulic servomuscle whirred as he flexed the machine's powerful limbs.

He went on to extend and dry-fire each of the secondary built-in weapons systems in turn: first the four superconducting rotary automatic gatling coilguns mounted in each arm (which used 30.779x127.654mm armour-piercing discarding-sabot explosive depleted phlebotinum ammunition much like Divine Thunder's, with a rate of fire of 3271 rounds a minute), then the two multipurpose multiple solid-fuel rocket launchers in the shoulders (which between them could launch two hundred and fifty-six infra-red or laser-guided supersonic missiles before reloading, each with either a napalm, thermobaric, fragmentation or high-explosive anti-armour warhead), and finally the Steelstorm (TM) 0.0178x1.2223mm flechette guns mounted on either side of the head. There wasn't the space in here to test-fire the six self-targeting vector-boosted monomolecular-edged hyperdiamond-coated titanium-fibre slash harkens, but he spun the superconducting motors that controlled their nanotube-filament cables.

Next up were the Longinus' melee weapons. He carefully deployed the ten megacarbon monofilament whips from their mounts in the fingers, then retracted the wickedly deadly appendages with smooth clicks. Then he drew the fourteen-foot-long katana (twin to the Blood Dragon) from its sheath on the Knightmare's back and swung it experimentally. The vibroactive ultracrystal hyperdiamond-edged blade swished through the air with the power to cut through metres of whiskered plasmasteel.

Returning the katana to its mount, Lelouch grinned evilly in the cockpit - he had saved the best till last. With a symphonic flutter of keys, he ordered the Longinus to form its ultimate weapon. Armour shifted in its lower torso, components shifting into place with a whirr of myomers and piezofibres to form the five-metre barrel of the Doomsday Cannon (patent pending). The superconducting gyro-stabilized hyper-accelerating multi-stage railgun could launch discarding-sabot 228.793x31.777mm depleted phlebotinum (TM) penetrators with 0.213 kiloton sakuradite explosive cores up to 11.173 miles. His finger trembled a little over the firing button, capable of unleashing city-block-shattering power with a single tiny movement. The weapon had yet to be used in battle, but Lelouch was confident that when it was, it would blow the Britannians' pesky Lancelot into scrap metal suitable only for spare flechette gun ammo.

Satisfied with the machine's performance, he retracted the Doomsday Cannon and powered down the reactor. The rebel prince let out a pleased sigh and went to work his body some more in the weight room.


Lelouch awoke with a start, leaping halfway out of the nest of blankets he had been sleeping in on the floor of his room. It had just been a dream, he told himself as his confusion abated. A deeply weird dream. "I need to stop eating that leftover pizza before bed," he muttered to himself.

"I don't know what you're doing down there," C.C.'s voice groused from the bed, "but do it quietly."

"What...no, never mind," Lelouch groaned. "I had a...strange dream."

"Oh, bless. Widdle Lulu had a scary nightmare? Shall I get you your security blanket, or would you like to borrow Cheese-kun? Perhaps I could put you on my lap and tell you a story until you fall asleep again?"

"Very funny," he snapped. "No, it was just...strange. I was...exercising."

"Oh my. A fate worse than death, I'm sure."


Notes: I came up with this fic for a laugh while thinking of ideas for a fic/art gift-giving exercise. It occurred to me that a variety of tropes seen in quite a few Code Geass fics (and other fiction in some cases, naming no names) were ripe for parody, including but not limited to: erasing all of Lelouch's canon mistakes, making him more physically capable, giving him a 'harem' for no good reason, endless unnecessarily detailed (and frequently ludicrous) descriptions of weapons/Knightmares/other technology, Suzaku-bashing and certain turns of phrase. (The 'titanium katana' thing is based on an Escaflowne fic I actually saw and reviewed.)