Constitutional Authority-class Super Dreadnought

Throne Chamber

Oracle AI informed Xavier Salvador with its precise tone: "The report indicates that Suzaku Kururugi has enrolled at Ashford Academy. However, his presence has been met with xenophobic hostility from Britannian students. On a brighter note, he reunited with his old best friend, Lelouch Lamperouge—formerly Lelouch vi Britannia, the deposed prince of the Holy Britannian Empire."

Xavier leaned forward in his chair, his piercing gaze fixed on the AI. "Hmm... I see. What else?"

The AI's holographic form shimmered before continuing. "Lelouch recently pursued a cat wearing the Zero mask, desperate to recover it before anyone else could see. Afterward, he proposed to Milly Ashford that Suzaku join the student council. Milly accepted, integrating Suzaku into their circle. Later, they attended the live broadcast of Prince Clovis' death, during which Emperor Charles zi Britannia delivered his infamous speech."

Xavier scoffed. "Ah, the speech extolling social Darwinism. A tedious monologue. I didn't bother listening to it." He waved dismissively. "What else?"

"Jeremiah Gottwald has been stripped of his rank and arrested," the AI reported, "although he was later released. He will no longer lead the Purist Faction, which is now under Princess Cornelia's command. Meanwhile, Cornelia has launched operations to obliterate Japanese resistance groups in Area 11, beginning with the Blood of the Samurai, the largest faction in the central region."

Xavier smirked faintly. "And I assume they were crushed by Cornelia's forces?"

"Correct."

Xavier's tone turned cold and calculating. "They wouldn't have allied with me anyway. Their hatred of Britannians—and foreigners—would have made cooperation impossible. Their eradication, while regrettable, simplifies my plans. Speaking of plans, how goes the recruitment?"

The AI responded promptly. "Forty-five percent of Japanese refugees from the dome sites have joined your movement to liberate their homeland."

"And the emissaries I dispatched to the resistance groups?"

"Three factions—Silent Sakura Group, Fukui Flaming Heart, and Toyama Restoration Front—have expressed willingness to cooperate. They harbor minimal anti-Britannian sentiment, and with your guidance, they could be tempered to prevent extremist actions against civilians."

Xavier nodded, his voice brimming with confidence. "That adds to our ranks. Excellent. With the Vindictarium Order aiding their struggle, we gain a strategic advantage. And now, with the Blood of the Samurai out of the picture, Cornelia will undoubtedly turn her attention to the Saitama ghetto. Have Ishiwara and her team returned from the Middle East?"

"Affirmative," the AI confirmed. "They await your next orders in Area 11."

"Good. Tell them to hold for now. The next mission will come soon."

The AI's holographic projection flickered out, leaving Xavier momentarily alone in the quiet grandeur of his chamber. That solitude was interrupted as the doors opened to reveal Mihara, a young girl, accompanied by her fox beastfolk caretaker.

Xavier's expression softened. "Mihara! What a surprise to see you."

Mihara hesitated, her voice uncertain yet polite. "I... I just wanted to see you, Supreme Sovereign."

Xavier raised a hand. "No need for formalities. Call me Xavier."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh..."

He gestured to the seat beside his grand throne. "Come, sit with me. Tell me, what's on your mind?"

As she settled nervously beside him, Mihara confessed, "Everything here is... so new. It's strange to meet people—aliens like you, and others here. I don't understand it all."

Xavier regarded her kindly. "I understand. You're adjusting to a world entirely different from the one you knew. I brought you here to keep you safe, away from the horrors that robbed you of everything."

Her voice was quiet, vulnerable. "You care for me?"

"Of course I do," he replied with gentle sincerity. Glancing toward the caretaker, he gave a quiet order. "Please, wait outside."

The beastfolk bowed. "As you wish, Supreme Sovereign."

Once the chamber doors shut, Xavier turned back to Mihara. "Listen, Mihara. I'm working to create a better world—not just for you, but for everyone."

Her eyes glistened with emotion. "You'd do that... for everyone?"

Xavier's voice softened. "Yes. I've seen the suffering caused by war, by greed, and by cruelty. I'll make sure no one endures what you have."

Her gaze fell as she whispered, "My parents... they tried so hard to give me a good life before the war..." Tears welled in her eyes as she recounted her family's struggles in the ghetto.

Xavier gently pulled her close, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. "No tears, my dear," he murmured, brushing them away. "Your parents wanted you to survive, to live a life they could no longer give you. And I intend to honor that wish."

Mihara's voice trembled. "You mean that?"

He gave her a warm smile. "I do. In fact... how would you feel about being adopted by me?"

Her breath caught, her eyes widening in shock. Words failed her as she stared at the man who had saved her from despair. Finally, she clung to him tightly, her voice breaking. "Please... don't leave me. I don't want to be alone again."

Xavier held her close, his voice steady. "I won't leave you, Mihara. I promise."

In that moment, Xavier knew he had gained not just an ally but a new family member—a bond forged in the ashes of a shattered life, promising hope for the future.

Mihara gazed at him, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Does that mean... you're my new father?" she asked hesitantly, her voice soft yet hopeful.

Xavier Salvador, seated regally yet with a gentleness that belied his imposing stature, nodded. "Indeed, I am. It doesn't matter whether you're my biological child or not—I will always love you. I have no intention of replacing your biological father. If anything, I believe he'd be happy knowing someone is here to protect and care for you."

His words resonated deeply, and Mihara's heart swelled with happiness. She couldn't believe her fortune—her new father wasn't just any man, but a leader of a nation. A genuine smile lit her face, knowing she was safe in his care.

Xavier's expression softened further. "You know," he added with a hint of warmth, "you'll get to meet your new siblings when we return to Salvatia."

Her eyes widened. "I have brothers and sisters?" she exclaimed, her voice filled with surprise and excitement.

"That's right," Xavier replied. "You'll like them, though they may not be what you expect."

Mihara shook her head, her resolve unwavering. "I don't care what they look like. I've been an only child my whole life... I'm just happy to meet my new family."

Her smile grew brighter, and Xavier mirrored it. Before he could respond further, a voice interrupted their moment.

"Excuse me, Xavier," came Frieda's calm and composed tone as she stepped into the chamber.

Xavier gestured to Mihara. "Why don't you step outside and join your caretaker for now? I've got some work to handle here."

Mihara hesitated but nodded obediently. "Okay," she said. Then, with a bright smile, she added, "I'll see you later, Dad!" Her small form slipped out of the room, leaving the two adults alone.

Once the door closed, Frieda folded her arms, her sharp gaze fixed on him. "So, it's official—you've decided to adopt her."

Xavier leaned back in his chair, a rare seriousness overtaking his expression. "Better than leaving her in an orphanage to endure trauma and pain. Rehabilitation might have helped her recover, but this way... she has a family." He glanced briefly at the door where Mihara had exited, a flicker of affection crossing his face. "She deserves better."

Frieda nodded, satisfied, before moving to business. "About Princess Cornelia," she began, her tone turning grave. "It seems she's planning a simulation similar to the Shinjuku Ghetto attack. This time, the Saitama Ghetto is the target, intended to lure out Lelouch—Zero—and the Yamato Alliance."

Xavier smirked knowingly. "Good. Our orders have reached the Oracle, I presume?"

"Yes," Frieda confirmed. "They're waiting for further instructions."

"Excellent," Xavier said, his tone laced with confidence. "This will be the first crack in the Holy Britannian Empire's facade. But tell me—how is Korea?"

Frieda's expression darkened as she detailed the situation. "The OSI has infiltrated Chinese military and political buildings, gathering intelligence. We've also persuaded insurgent groups to unite against Chinese Federation control. Conditions in Korea remain dire—famine, persecution, and the exploitation of rural areas by Chinese forces. Meanwhile, urban elites live in luxury, sustained by corruption and loyalty to the Federation."

Xavier's smile turned cold. "And the insurgents?"

"With our help, they've seized military bases in Daegu, Gwangju, Ulsan, Hwanghae, and North Hamgyong. The Federation is sending reinforcements to quell the uprisings, but our tactics—false intel, guerrilla warfare, assassinations, and sabotage—are slowing them down."

Xavier laughed, the sound devoid of mirth. "Let the Eunuchs squirm. Their grip on Korea is slipping."

Frieda continued with updates on Kamine Island, geass research, and enemy movements. Xavier listened attentively, his mind already crafting strategies. When she mentioned the elusive Norland and Christoph Scissorman, his expression hardened.

"Find them and neutralize them. If they escape, they'll warn Britannia of our presence. Not that it will matter—our magitech and my power are leagues beyond their comprehension."

Frieda raised an eyebrow. "Then why not deal with them yourself, sir?"

Xavier chuckled. "Too easy. My forces need the experience. I'll step in only if they falter."

As the conversation shifted to Project Damocles, Xavier's tone became serious. "That sky fortress won't stop us. And as for Nina—have our drones monitor her. If she develops the FLEIJA weapon, we'll take her into custody. The magitech center is already working on a sakuradite-neutralizing device. Once completed, we'll test it and move forward."

With everything settled, Xavier rose to leave. "It's time to meet our Japanese allies at Saitama Ghetto. Though they won't meet the Supreme Leader of Salvatia today."

Frieda raised a brow. "A different persona, then?"

Xavier gave her a knowing smile as the elevator doors closed.

"Sheesh..." Frieda muttered, rolling her eyes. "He could've at least told me who he plans to be this time."

...

The Prime Minister's office within the Holy Britannian Empire stood in stoic silence, save for the sound of quill scratching against parchment. Seated behind an imposing desk, the second prince of the imperial family, Schneizel el Britannia, meticulously attended to his political affairs. Recently, news of Britannia's triumph in Namibia had reached him—the forces had successfully driven out the EU's main contingents, securing the land for the empire. The victory was expected, but Schneizel knew victories often preceded complications.

His subordinate, Kanon Maldini, entered the room with a grim expression that disrupted the serene air. Schneizel looked up, immediately sensing unease in his trusted aide.

"Kanon," Schneizel greeted calmly, setting his quill aside. "What brings you to my office? You appear troubled."

Kanon bowed slightly, his voice laced with concern. "Your Highness, I regret to inform you that the news I bear is... unpleasant."

Schneizel's brow furrowed subtly as he straightened in his chair. "Unpleasant news? Elaborate."

"It concerns Project Damocles, sire," Kanon said, hesitating as if the words themselves were heavy.

The mention of the project made Schneizel's measured composure falter for a fleeting moment. Damocles, the sky fortress he had envisioned to secure Britannia's global dominance, was a critical element of his strategy. To hear it mentioned in such a tone sent a ripple of concern through him.

"What has happened to Project Damocles?" Schneizel's voice remained calm, though his fingers lightly tapped against the desk.

"A few minutes ago," Kanon began, "we lost communication with the Toromo Agency, the facility responsible for the project's research and construction. I dispatched a task force to investigate. Upon arrival, they reported a grim scene—dead scientists, extensive destruction, and... the complete annihilation of the project. Nothing remains salvageable."

Schneizel's eyes narrowed, the weight of the revelation pressing upon him. "Are you certain no data can be recovered?"

Kanon shook his head solemnly. "Regrettably, no, Your Highness. Everything, from physical structures to digital records, has been destroyed beyond repair. The project is... lost."

The prince leaned back in his chair, his face a mask of contemplation, though the tension in his hands betrayed his frustration. The Damocles Project... eradicated? How? he thought, suppressing the surge of anger threatening to surface. This setback wasn't merely an inconvenience—it was a blow to his carefully orchestrated plans for Britannian supremacy.

"This is unprecedented," Schneizel said, his voice steady despite the turmoil beneath. "The Toromo Agency is one of our most secure and clandestine facilities. How could someone have known of its existence, let alone found a way to sabotage it?"

Kanon spoke with measured seriousness. "Sire, it must have been sabotage. No other explanation fits."

Schneizel nodded slowly. "I agree. But I doubt the EU or the Chinese Federation are behind this. While the EU possesses advanced technology, infiltrating such a location would require intelligence they simply do not have. Were there any camera recordings or logs that could reveal the saboteurs?"

"None," Kanon replied regretfully. "Every trace of what occurred has been meticulously erased. It is as if the perpetrators anticipated this inquiry."

Schneizel sighed deeply, his fingers massaging his temple. "We are dealing with individuals—or perhaps an organization—who not only knew of Project Damocles but possessed the means to destroy it without leaving a trace. This kind of precision is... alarming."

Kanon's gaze darkened. "Whoever they are, Your Highness, they pose a grave threat to Britannia. Their actions, if left unchecked, could herald our empire's downfall. Shall we inform His Majesty?"

Schneizel considered this for a moment before nodding. "Yes, but privately. The Emperor must know, yet we cannot risk this information spreading to my siblings or the public. If this scandal becomes known, it will complicate matters exponentially. Ensure absolute discretion."

"As you command, Your Highness," Kanon said, bowing deeply.

Schneizel watched his aide leave, his mind already calculating his next move. The destruction of Project Damocles was a staggering setback, but it also served as a reminder of the hidden dangers lurking beyond Britannia's borders—and perhaps even within.

...

Outside zone of Saitama Ghetto in far away area

In a secluded area far from the Saitama Ghetto, a skycruiser dropship descended silently, its engines humming as it landed on a hidden pad within Salvatia's newly established outpost base. The air thrummed with purpose as the ship's doors opened, revealing 1st Lieutenant Wolfram Blackfang at the forefront, flanked by Ishiwari and her Japanese companions. Around them, the construction yard bustled with activity, the MCV already transformed into a hub of operations. Advanced mana fusion generators powered an array of structures—barracks, war factories, mecha factories, starports, and combat support facilities—all shielded from Britannia's radar by state-of-the-art stealth generators.

The group entered the briefing room, their footsteps echoing in the stark, metallic corridors. Seated around the table, they exchanged thoughts while waiting for the arrival of a high-ranking colonel. Their conversation, though casual, carried undertones of the mission that had brought them back to Japan.

Furuse Kohei leaned back in his chair, his expression pensive. "You know, ever since we were called back, I've been thinking about how quickly things have changed in the Middle East."

Shiro Mayu tilted her head, curiosity evident in her eyes. "Changed how, Furuse?"

"Well," Furuse began, his voice thoughtful, "when we 'liberated' the Middle East from Britannia's control, Salvatia didn't waste any time. They moved in, occupied the land, and now... it feels more like a colony under their rule."

Wolfram Blackfang interjected, his tone firm. "That's not a colony. It's called a Magistrate State."

"Magistrate State?" Furuse echoed, raising an eyebrow.

Wolfram nodded, his gaze steady. "It's a system designed to prevent chaos. The region has a history of individuals with radical ambitions—ego-driven leaders, extremist ideologies, and factions that thrive on division. Without proper oversight, granting immediate independence would only invite disaster. Unlike the corruption-riddled systems of the Chinese Federation or the United Republic of Europia, Salvatia ensures stability through just governance."

Hitarashi Ogai crossed his arms skeptically. "And what makes it so different from Britannia's conquests? They called their territories colonies too."

"The difference," Wolfram replied, his tone unwavering, "is in how the people are treated. Under the Magistrate State, locals are respected as equals—no racial discrimination, no oppression. They're given the opportunity to lead normal lives as long as they follow the laws. Britannia, on the other hand, reduces its conquered populations to mere numbers."

Usui Wakumi frowned, her brows furrowing. "But why call it a Magistrate State? Why not just call the leader a governor or something? It sounds... unusual."

"That's classified," Wolfram said curtly. "Only members of CAEA have access to that information."

"CAEA?" Ishiwari Mayu questioned, leaning forward slightly.

Wolfram's expression remained impassive. "Commissary Authority & Enforcement Administration. Beyond that, I can't elaborate."

Hitarashi sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I see..."

The Japanese group exchanged speculative glances, the mention of CAEA stirring curiosity. They wondered if Supreme Sovereign Xavier Salvador himself orchestrated such meticulous governance. Before they could delve deeper, the room fell silent as the doors slid open.

A towering blue Oni in a high-ranking officer's uniform strode in, his presence commanding attention. Beside him was a female fox wildfolk, her vibrant red ponytail contrasting with her sharp military attire. Her eyeglasses gleamed under the fluorescent light, accentuating her keen, intelligent gaze. The colonel's name was Pyrnos Xorakii, and his subordinate, the fox wildfolk officer, was Jynessa Cinderpaw.

Yukawa Keiki's eyes widened at the sight of Jynessa, her graceful demeanor and striking appearance leaving him momentarily awestruck. "Whoa..." he muttered under his breath.

Usui, noticing his dazed expression, delivered a swift smack to the back of his head. "What are you staring at?"

Yukawa jolted upright, stammering as he rubbed the sore spot. "Wha—oh, nothing! Just... uh, surprised to see someone so different from us humans. That's all! Hehehe..."

His awkward laugh earned a pointed glare from Usui, but before anyone could comment further, Colonel Pyrnos's authoritative voice filled the room, silencing their chatter.

Colonel Pyrnos Xorakii stood at the head of the briefing room, his presence commanding immediate attention. "I am Colonel Pyrnos Xorakii, in charge of this outpost base. It may not be much, but it will serve its purpose in keeping a watchful eye on the Britons."

Furuse Kohei raised an eyebrow. "Britons?"

Usui Wakumi snorted, a bemused look crossing her face. "Sounds more like a nickname than just calling them Brits," she muttered, her voice laced with dry humor.

Pyrnos's expression remained stoic as he continued. "Now, as you all know, you performed exceptionally well during the Battle of Ridyah. Your efforts left a lasting impression on the Supreme Leader when we reviewed the results."

Shiro Mayu smiled proudly. "Well, we did pretty well, Colonel... I mean, sir!" she added quickly, correcting herself, as the others shared brief chuckles.

Pyrnos nodded, his face betraying little emotion. "Since you're all ready for action, we're moving on to the next mission. It concerns Japan." He turned toward his subordinate. "Warrant Officer Cinderpaw?"

Jynessa Cinderpaw, her sharp eyes focused, nodded crisply. "Yes, sir."

She approached the terminal and activated the screen, which immediately displayed a map of the Saitama Ghetto. Pyrnos stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the projected image. "According to intel from OSI, Viceroy Cornelia is preparing to launch a simulated assault on the ghetto—much like the way Prince Clovis attacked Shinjuku."

Yukawa Keiki's eyes widened in shock. "What!"

The Japanese members of the group exchanged looks of disbelief, the blood in their veins running cold. The very idea of Cornelia—one of the Britannian imperial family—planning to massacre the people of Saitama Ghetto the same way Prince Clovis had done to the Shinjuku Ghetto was a bitter pill to swallow. It ignited a fiery anger within them.

Shiro Mayu's voice trembled with disbelief. "But why?"

Jynessa's voice was calm, but her words carried a weight of cold logic. "Simple. She intends to draw out Zero... and that mysterious black figure who's been causing trouble."

Usui Wakumi's eyes widened, her voice rising in disbelief. "She's what?"

Wolfram Blackfang leaned forward, his tone measured but grim. "I understand now... She suspects that Zero, and the masked figure, were responsible for Prince Clovis's death. Though it was Britannian soldiers who mistakenly killed him in the car, Cornelia wants vengeance. After all, anyone who dares to take the life of a member of the imperial family must face the consequences. And for them, that means death."

Ishiwari Mayu clenched her fist at the thought of the brutal events that had unfolded in the Shinjuku Ghetto. Her mind flashed to the countless lives lost in the wake of Clovis's assault. The pain of those memories surged within her, and a bitter resolve settled in her heart. To avenge her brother and the innocent lives taken—that was something she could never accept. She knew, deep down, that others felt the same way, and they would stop at nothing to make sure Cornelia paid for the bloodshed.

Yukawa Keiki's voice cracked with fury. "That bitch! She's trying to do the same thing she did with the Shinjuku Ghetto!"

Shiro Mayu, her face pale with worry, turned to Colonel Pyrnos. "C-Colonel! We have to do something. People will die if they assume the residents are collaborating with the resistance group."

Wolfram Blackfang, the beastfolk, responded firmly. "And we will, Shiro. We'll make sure those people don't become part of the massacre."

Colonel Pyrnos Xorakii's tone grew serious. "That's why we must act swiftly. Ishiwari, you've had some experience with resistance groups through your networks. What do we know about them?"

Ishiwari stood up from her chair, her posture stiff with authority as she addressed Pyrnos. "As far as I remember, the Saitama Ghetto is under the control of the Yamato Alliance. Though, our relationship with them is... complicated."

Wolfram's eyes narrowed, his interest piqued. "Elaborate."

Ishiwari didn't hesitate, her voice steady. "The Yamato Alliance is... radical, to say the least. They're vehemently anti-Britannian. Some of them are involved with the Yakuza—shady business, arms dealing, you name it. There was a time when we introduced them to Ohgi's group, and they hated Kallen when they learned she's half-Britannian. They even tried to harm her. If it weren't for us stepping in and convincing them that she was on our side, despite her heritage, it could've been disastrous."

Hitarashi Ogai, always pragmatic, added with a wry smile, "Despite that, they did provide us with the weapons we needed to defend Shinjuku and plot our takedown of Britannia in Area 11. But make no mistake, there's still bad blood between us."

Furuse Kohei sneered, his disdain clear. "I bet when they heard about what happened to the Shinjuku Ghetto, they celebrated. Just knowing we had a half-Britannian on our team probably made them gloat. A bunch of assholes."

He spat the words, his contempt for the Yamato Alliance palpable, despite their role as part of the Japanese resistance against Britannia.

Pyrnos Xorakii nodded, his gaze steady and calculating. "If what you're saying is true, then negotiating peace or cooperation with them is unlikely to go smoothly."

Yukawa Keiki, still burning with anger, added bluntly, "No offense, Colonel, but it's best we don't ally with those assholes."

Shiro Mayu's voice, firm with conviction, followed. "We've known Kallen since Ohgi created the resistance group. A friend of hers is a friend of ours," she said proudly, standing by her Britannian half-breed friend despite the complex politics that surrounded them.

Pyrnos Xorakii acknowledged her words with a nod. "Good to hear. That's why we'll intervene in that area—evacuate the people and prepare an ambush when the Britannians arrive."

Furuse Kohei blinked in surprise. "Wait. we're  seriously going there?"

His disbelief was clear as he processed the plan.

Wolfram Blackfang's sharp eyes calculated the risks. "I see... We're setting up an ambush after evacuating the people, but if the Britannians find the ghetto empty, they'll be suspicious. They'll figure out it's a trap."

Jynessa Cinderpaw, ever resourceful, spoke up. "We'll use decoy amplifiers to fool the Britannians, making them think the Japanese are still living in the ghetto. That way, they'll focus on them until it's too late."

Ishiwari frowned, clearly confused. "I'm sorry? Decoy amplifiers?"

Wolfram Blackfang explained with a measured tone. "We use them to create realistic holographic illusions—people, objects, whatever we need—to deceive the enemy into thinking they're real."

Hitarashi Ogai raised an eyebrow. "But they're not. Sounds deceptive, doesn't it? I never thought the military would resort to something like that."

Jynessa shrugged, unphased. "We've done it before, and it's been successful in fooling the enemy."

Pyrnos Xorakii nodded, signaling the end of the discussion. "Now, before we wrap this up, there's someone joining us for this operation."

As he spoke, the door to the room opened with a soft creak. A tall figure, dressed in black with a hat and mask obscuring most of his face, stepped inside. The Japanese officers froze, their eyes wide in shock. This was none other than Ronin Vindicator—the man rumored to have been responsible for tricking the Britannian soldiers into shooting at Prince Clovis's car, resulting in the prince's death. It was said that Ronin had played a pivotal role that fateful night, saving Suzaku and handing him over to Zero, or so the stories from the Salvatia military had claimed. The figure's sudden appearance was a reminder of the enigmatic figure who had forever altered the course of their struggle.

Shiro Mayu gasped in surprise. "Whoa! Big sis, is that...?"

Ishiwari nodded in acknowledgment, her gaze fixed on the figure.

Usui Wakumi chuckled softly, her tone laced with disdain. "Oh my, the mysterious man responsible for that dear old prince. Heh, not like I pity him after what he did to the people of the Shinjuku ghetto."

Ishiwari Mayu hesitated but introduced herself. "Hello. My name is—"

"Ishiwari Mayu," Ronin Vindicator interrupted smoothly, his voice tinged with familiarity. "Yes, I know. They've told me about you."

Yukawa Keiki raised an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and curiosity. "I see you know us. Are we famous?"

"Maybe," came the cryptic reply.

"Maybe?" Yukawa pressed, confusion flickering across his face. "What do you mean 'maybe'?"

The masked man offered no further explanation, his silence sharp and unyielding.

Pyrnos Xorakii broke the tension. "His name is Ronin Vindicator. He cooperates with us for his own reasons and is willing to help us get the job done."

Ronin Vindicator's gaze swept over the group, his tone resolute. "Normally, I do things alone, but in a situation like this, I'll make an exception and tag along."

Furuse Kohei couldn't suppress his excitement. "Whoa! It's amazing to meet the masked man. And the name 'Ronin'—sounds like the Japanese word for a wandering samurai with no master. Hey, are you Japanese?"

"I chose the name to reflect my freedom," Ronin Vindicator replied, his voice cold yet deliberate. "My choices. My actions. And no, I'm not Japanese. But I'd rather keep the reasons behind my mask to myself, even from you."

Yukawa Keiki, sensing the growing tension, nervously interjected. "Why? Do you have a scar or something?"

The question was met with an icy glare from Ronin Vindicator. Yukawa immediately recoiled, regretting his words as an uncomfortable silence filled the room.

"Never mind what I said," he stammered, his awkward smile failing to mask his unease.

Pyrnos Xorakii, ever the pragmatist, cut through the moment. "Anyway, since he's here, he'll accompany you on the mission to evacuate the people and prepare for the ambush when the enemy arrives. We've already cut off communications to avoid alerting the Viceroy and the Holy Britannian Empire."

Shiro Mayu's voice grew heavy with concern. "But once we defeat her, the Holy Britannian Empire will likely recognize the greater threat in Area 11. They'll send reinforcements. They might even dispatch one of the Knights of the Round."

Yukawa Keiki scoffed, his bravado clear. "The Knights of the Round? Please, those elite knights won't stand a chance against us, not when we have Salvatia on our side."

Ronin Vindicator's eyes darkened as he spoke, his voice low and full of deadly certainty. "I'm aware of that organization. They will meet their end at my blade."

Usui Wakumi's lips curled into a grin. "Is that confidence I hear? Heh, I'm going to enjoy this."

Her smile widened, imagining the humiliation of the Knights of the Round at the hands of the Salvatians.

Hitarashi Ogai, more pragmatic, raised a valid concern. "What about the Yamato Alliance? I doubt they'll cooperate with us, despite our fight against Britannia. They're just as distrustful of foreigners as the Britannians—especially you guys."

Ronin Vindicator's response was chilling. "Then there's no choice but to remove them."

The room fell silent as the weight of his words settled in. The suggestion to deal with the Yamato Alliance in the Saitama ghetto sent a wave of shock through the group.

Ishiwari Mayu hesitated, voice trembling. "You want them gone? You mean... killed?"

Jynessa Cinderpaw's tone was blunt. "Either that, or they'll become a threat to our plan. Their anti-foreigner sentiment could jeopardize everything we're trying to do here. It's a problem we Salvatians don't tolerate."

Furuse Kohei, visibly uncomfortable, stammered, "I—I know. But... Are we really going to kill them?"

The question hung in the air, the moral dilemma weighing heavily on the Japanese in the room. They were torn between their desire to fight Britannia and their discomfort with killing fellow countrymen, even if those countrymen harbored animosity toward foreigners. The tension was palpable, especially given the fact that these same individuals had once fought alongside Kallen, despite her Britannian heritage.

Ronin Vindicator's voice broke through their hesitation, calm yet uncompromising. "You don't have to feel guilt or pity for them. If they aren't aligned with our goal to liberate Japan, then they must be removed. Those who harbor such deep anti-sentiment will only stand in our way. To move forward, we must eliminate them."

Shiro Mayu's voice quivered with uncertainty. "I know we want to get the Britannians off our land and send them back to theirs. But... killing a Japanese resistance group? That's... that's just—"

Hitarashi Ogai, his voice raw with frustration, interrupted her. "I say fuck them."

The room fell into stunned silence. All eyes turned to him, shocked by his bluntness.

"Look," Ogai continued, his tone unwavering, "I ain't racist, and as much as I hate Britannians for what they've done to our home, I won't condone terrorism. If we target civilians, Britannia will have all the justification it needs to rally support against us. We can't give them that excuse."

Jynessa Cinderpaw nodded with approval. "Hm. Someone's pragmatic here, sir."

Ronin Vindicator's gaze swept over the group, his words resolute. "None of you will kill them. I'll do it. No one will know who I am when I'm wearing my mask."

He paused, allowing his words to sink in. "Listen, all of you may grapple with the morality of killing your fellow countrymen, but the truth is, even countrymen can become a threat if their actions are driven by personal, selfish desires rather than the greater good of the people. There are times when morality must be cast aside in pursuit of a higher goal. And while doing so, you may hold onto whatever moral compass you have left. But understand this—sometimes, the necessary actions must be taken, no matter how difficult they are."

His words left a heavy silence in the room, forcing Ishiwari and the others to reflect on the harsh reality they faced. After a long pause, Shiro Mayu finally spoke, her voice quiet but firm.

"We understand. I just hope nothing will come back to haunt us as long as we protect the people."

Furuse Kohei sighed, his voice tinged with resignation. "Yeah, it sucks. But I can't ignore that there are Japanese out there willing to betray each other for their own gains. And that's not for the good of the people."

Ishiwari remained silent, but the look in her eyes betrayed her understanding. She was ready to do whatever it took for the greater good, even if it meant removing those who opposed the path to liberation.

Pyrnos Xorakii stood firm, his voice steady as he addressed the group. "If there's nothing further to discuss, we proceed with the operation immediately. Dismissed."

With those words, the room emptied, everyone filing out to prepare for their departure to the Saitama ghetto. Only Ronin Vindicator and Colonel Xorakii remained, the former holding a moment to speak with the latter.

"Once Princess Cornelia and her forces arrive and begin their deployment in the ghetto, have the Vindictarium technomages jam their systems," Ronin Vindicator said, his tone calm but precise. "It will blind them, create confusion, and buy us time before they can reorganize."

Colonel Xorakii nodded in acknowledgment. "Understood. Good luck, sir." He saluted, his gesture crisp and formal as Ronin Vindicator turned and left the room, his destination set on the Saitama ghetto. There, the Yamato Alliance awaited, and it was time for their fate to be decided.

...

Saitama Ghetto

Moments later, the skies overhead buzzed with the sound of Salvatian forces arriving, either soaring through the air or emerging from mass-teleportation gateways that swiftly transported ground troops to the heart of the ghetto. A contingent of mecha frames moved into position, establishing well-coordinated ambush sites, preparing for the inevitable arrival of the Britannian forces.

The GAS military, working in unison with the Vindictarium Order, had already gathered every Japanese resident from the ghetto, urging them to evacuate immediately. Word spread quickly that Princess Cornelia's forces were coming, and there was no time to waste. With few options left, the residents reluctantly agreed, stepping into the portal that would carry them to safety. Once the evacuation was complete, the decoy amplifiers were activated, casting lifelike holographic illusions of Japanese civilians to mislead and trap the incoming Britannians.

Wolfram, Ishiwari, and the others, each piloting their respective mecha frames, dispersed across different sectors of the ghetto, taking refuge in the ruins of city buildings to mask their movements. Meanwhile, the Salvatians deployed advanced nanocores, using them to rapidly construct defensive structures that would remain hidden until the Britannians arrived. Cloaking mechanisms hummed to life, rendering the forces nearly invisible. Ground troops, too, concealed themselves, ready to spring into action at the first sign of the enemy. The larger mecha fighters, though, remained in standby, awaiting the signal to unleash their devastating force when the time was right.

...

Yamato Alliance hideout

Chaos swept through the Yamato Alliance resistance as members scrambled in confusion, their minds racing to comprehend the sudden appearance of an unknown group armed with advanced military-grade weaponry. They were bewildered, unsure of why the residents had been evacuated, and the situation was far too unclear for any immediate understanding.

"What's going on out there?" the leader of the resistance demanded, his voice rising in frustration.

"We don't know," one of the fighters replied, his eyes wide with fear. "But they've got an arsenal like nothing we've ever seen, and their numbers are overwhelming."

"Impossible!" another resistance fighter exclaimed. "We don't stand a chance with so few of us!"

The YA Leader's expression hardened as he weighed their options. "Whoever they are, we don't know their intentions. We need to reach out to the groups in Akabane or Jujoh for reinforcements. In the meantime—"

His words were cut short by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. The door to the hideout slammed open, and in walked Ronin Vindicator, his presence filling the room like a storm. The resistance fighters froze in shock, recognizing the man who had somehow tracked them to their secret location.

"Who are you?!" the leader demanded, his voice trembling as he pointed his gun at Ronin.

The rest of the fighters followed suit, weapons aimed at the intruder with growing hostility.

"How do you know where we are? What do you want?" the leader pressed, his voice sharp with suspicion.

Ronin Vindicator's eyes gleamed with cold intent as he slowly drew his enchanted katana, the "Hofuku," its high-frequency blade humming with lethal energy.

"What I want..." he murmured, his voice a low growl as he raised the blade with purpose.

"...is the end of the Yamato Alliance."

...

Saitama Ghetto

Cornelia Forces' arrival

The Britannian forces, now under the command of Princess Cornelia, newly appointed viceroy of Area 11, arrived at the Saitama ghetto with a chilling objective in mind. She sought to replicate the bloodshed of the Shinjuku ghetto, hoping to draw out either Zero, the elusive rebel leader, or the mysterious masked man associated with the night of her brother's death. If they failed to show themselves, she would have no choice but to eliminate them on sight.

Inside the cockpit of the G-1 Base, Princess Cornelia sat calmly, her presence unwavering as she surveyed the battlefield through the screens. Andreas Darlton, Gilbert, and a cadre of royal guards stood by, preparing for the operation that would unfold in the Saitama ghetto. The forces had already spread out to surround the area, effectively trapping everyone inside and ensuring that no one would be able to escape.

Darlton's voice broke through the tension. "The Saitama Ghetto is now completely surrounded. The Yamato Alliance's hideout is somewhere within. Half the residents here are cooperating with them. If we proceed now..."

Cornelia's gaze remained fixed on the monitors. "What will be the effect on production?"

Darlton hesitated only for a moment. "Primary sector output should decrease by 0.2%."

"Within expectations, then," Cornelia replied, her tone flat but resolute. "It's a shame no Clovis officers survived in Shinjuku ghetto. They are all dead, so we must proceed regardless."

Gilbert, standing nearby, finally spoke up. "Your highness, what are your orders for this operation?"

Cornelia's eyes narrowed, her thoughts calculating. "Zero is a criminal with a flair for the theatrical. So too is the masked man believed to be involved in my brother's death. I've recreated the same conditions that existed in Shinjuku to lure them out. If either is overconfident, they may attempt to come here and kill me."

Gilbert's voice held a note of doubt. "Doubtful. No one would dare try to take your life here."

Cornelia's lips curled into a cold smile. "That's exactly why I must appear vulnerable. Only then will I be able to catch either one of them—perhaps both."

She turned to Darlton, her voice firm. "Now, Darlton, send in the first wave. If you encounter any Elevens, you know what to do."

Darlton bowed respectfully. "Understood, your highness. The first wave will enter the ghetto immediately."

A Britannian officer stepped forward, his voice resolute. "Yes, sir."

...

The first wave of Britannian forces stormed into the ruined city, quickly spreading across the area to track down and eliminate any members of the Yamato Alliance, as well as the residents they deemed to be collaborators. As they advanced, they spotted a group of Japanese residents standing in the street, seemingly oblivious to the soldiers' approach. A commanding officer riding atop a tank barked an order.

"Elevens!" the Britannian officer called out with authority. "You have committed treason by aiding terrorists. For your betrayal, you will be punished. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

The residents remained silent, their faces betraying no emotion. Unknown to the officer, these were merely decoy amplifiers—nothing more than holographic projections designed to deceive.

"Nothing to say?" the officer sneered. "Fine. Have it your way, Eleven. Men, shoot the one at the front."

"Yes, sir!" came the reply from one of the soldiers.

A single soldier aimed his weapon at the nearest Japanese civilian and pulled the trigger, but the bullet never reached its target. Instead, it seemed to vanish mid-flight.

"What?!" the soldier gasped, his disbelief palpable.

The other soldiers around him were equally stunned. Their eyes widened as the group of Japanese residents seemed to dissolve before their eyes, vanishing without a trace.

"Wh-What just happened?" one of the soldiers stammered, his voice shaky with confusion.

"What kind of sorcery is this?" another soldier muttered, his hand trembling as he scanned the empty street.

"No way!" a third soldier exclaimed. "The Elevens just disappeared into thin air. We saw them with our own eyes!"

The officer, too, stood frozen in shock, his gaze darting around as he tried to comprehend what had just occurred. The residents who had been there moments ago were now gone, leaving nothing but empty space behind.

"What the hell is going on here?" the officer demanded, his voice shaking with frustration. "Where did the Elevens go? Are they even real? Are they even living in this filthy place?"

...

At the G-1 Base, chaos erupted as the computer systems malfunctioned, causing the cockpit's displays to scramble. Communication lines went dead, and the radar systems flickered, leaving the room in complete disarray. The officers and guards frantically tried to restore order, but they had no idea what had triggered the sudden collapse of their systems.

Cornelia's voice rose above the noise, sharp and demanding. "What's going on?"

Her words hung in the air as an officer quickly turned to her, his expression strained. "There's something wrong with the system, Your Highness. We're trying to reboot it."

Gilbert, standing nearby, looked suspicious. "This doesn't make sense. The terrorists don't have the kind of technology to jam our systems like this."

Darlton, narrowing his eyes, offered a possible explanation. "It could be Zero. He might have attacked our systems to leave us blind."

"No," Cornelia responded firmly, shaking her head. "If it were Zero, he would have sent his terrorists to coordinate an attack, just like the one in the Shinjuku ghetto. This... this isn't his style. No, it's someone else."

Before anyone could respond, a series of panicked reports filled the room.

One officer, visibly distressed, shouted, "The radar can't detect either the enemy or our own forces. The ECM's not responding to reboot commands!"

Another officer, equally flustered, added, "The communication lines are down. I can't get any signal!"

A third voice called out in alarm, "The screens are completely scrambled!"

Darlton's frustration boiled over as he slammed his fist on the control panel. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded, his voice laced with confusion and fury.

...

The Britannian forces advanced further into the Saitama Ghetto, their movements calculated and precise, but they never saw the attack coming. Suddenly, they were ambushed from the shadows of the ruined civilian buildings by Salvatian forces hidden within the wreckage.

"Ambush!" a Britannian soldier shouted in panic, his voice echoing through the chaos.

"We're under attack!" another soldier yelled as the sound of gunfire filled the air.

"All forces, open fire!" a Britannian officer commanded, his voice trembling with urgency. "Open fire, damn it!"

The Sutherlands, trapped by the effects of the Tardorvsky particle interference, fired blindly into the darkness, unable to see their enemies or communicate with one another. Then, like phantoms emerging from the ruins, Turquin Knight Wolfram and Rovenja Ishiwari leapt from the crumbling buildings, followed by a squad of Duskbanes. They descended on the confused Britannian forces with precision.

Rovenja, with a battle cry, swung a plasma saber, driving it deep into the hull of a nearby tank. The explosion that followed consumed the vehicle, and the officer inside was caught in the fiery blast. Meanwhile, Turquin Knight Wolfram unleashed devastating firepower from his shoulder-mounted electron-phrased plasma vulcan cannons, mowing down Britannian infantry. The Duskbane squad unleashed hell with their NS-240 Heavy machine guns, ripping through Sutherland Knightmares. One squadmate moved swiftly behind a Sutherland, stabbing it from the rear with an energy broadsword, disabling the massive machine in a single strike.

The Blitzpawns added their own firepower, blasting enemy tanks, APCs, and Sutherland Knightmares with their NS-240 Heavy machine guns and hypersonic mana bazookas. In mere moments, the battlefield was cleared, the remnants of the Britannian forces scattered across the ruins.

With the immediate threat neutralized, the Salvatian forces emerged from their cover, regrouping around Wolfram's towering mecha frame.

"Area secure," Wolfram said, his voice calm but commanding. "Spread out to support the other units."

"Yes, sir!" came the unanimous reply from the Salvatians.

The forces quickly dispersed, heading toward their designated positions. Rovenja walked up beside Wolfram, her expression thoughtful.

"Should we meet up at the Hitarashi and Furuse location?" she asked, her gaze scanning the area.

Wolfram nodded. "Yeah. Follow me."

Together, they sprinted toward the next phase of the operation, heading toward the locations of Hitarashi and Furuse, prepared for whatever came next.

...

Kougeki Furuse's shout echoed through the battlefield as he swung his arcane heat sword down, cleaving a Sutherland Knightmare in half with a single, powerful strike. His triumph was short-lived, however, as three more Sutherland Knightmares lunged at him from the right. But before they could close in, one of them was struck by a beam sniper shot, halting its advance. Kougeki Furuse turned in surprise, his eyes falling on Kougeki Hitarashi, standing high on a building rooftop, his mana beam sniper rifle still smoking from the shot.

"Nice one, Hitarashi!" Furuse called through their comms, his voice filled with appreciation.

"Much obliged," Hitarashi replied calmly, adjusting his position. "I see more coming this way. I'll provide sniper support."

"Right!" Furuse responded, his focus sharp as he sheathed his arcane heat sword and drew the arcane-positron impaler rifle. He fired rapidly, taking down two Sutherland Knightmares in quick succession. As he continued to eliminate targets, the distant crack of Hitarashi's sniper rifle echoed across the battlefield, picking off more enemies from afar. With the combined force of their firepower, the enemy's reinforcements were quickly neutralized.

"Alright, we're clear," Furuse declared, his voice steady. "Nice work, Hitarashi."

As the dust began to settle, Turquin Knight Wolfram and Rovenja Ishiwari arrived, joining the two warriors.

Rovenja glanced at the pair, her gaze sharp. "Furuse, Hitarashi, how are you holding up?"

"We're fine," Furuse responded with a grin, lowering his weapon. "We did good to take care of these Brits."

Kougeki Hitarashi dropped down from the rooftop, landing smoothly on his feet before walking toward Furuse, his footsteps silent but purposeful.

"What about yours?" Hitarashi asked, glancing at Wolfram.

Turquin Knight Wolfram gave a measured reply, his tone serious. "The enemy has taken the bait. But this is just the first wave. More of them will come in full force."

Rovenja nodded, her expression unbothered. "Not to worry. The others have already encountered them by now."

...

The Sutherland Knightmare forces struggled to advance, their progress hindered by the relentless fire of two Vulcan towers, which tore through their ranks with rapid, unyielding shots. The Salvatian ground forces, a formidable mix of Tiger tanks, Jackal quad bikes, and attack bikes, along with infantry units, engaged the enemy with precision. Some of the infantry closed in, facing off with Britannian soldiers in brutal hand-to-hand combat.

A Vindictarium Myrmidon, a tall, dark elf, wielded a large shield and an arcane katana. He charged toward a Britannian soldier, who was firing directly at him. With swift precision, the Myrmidon raised his shield, deflecting the bullets before launching into a swift, deadly arc, slashing down the soldier in a single movement. Nearby, a Vindictarium Myrmidon—a dwarf—swung a massive battle axe at a Britannian soldier, cleaving off his leg before delivering a final, fatal blow. A squad of shock troopers armed with venom guns moved methodically, neutralizing every Britannian soldier in their path.

A tank aimed at one of the Vulcan towers, but before it could fire, it was obliterated from above. The Sovereign Knight mecha fighter descended from the sky, unleashing a powerful mana beam rifle shot that destroyed a Britannian APC. In the chaos, Yoriko Shiro soared through the battlefield, her gatling-mounted dueling electron-phrased plasma repeater cannons blasting through the ranks of Britannian tanks and Sutherland Knightmares, each shot finding its mark. With a swift motion, she deployed her dueling plasma saber and spun, cutting through four Sutherland Knightmares in a deadly arc, their hulking forms splitting in half before detonating in fiery explosions. Without hesitation, she turned her plasma repeater cannons on two enemy VTOL gunships, shooting them down as they tried to retaliate.

"This is Yoriko," she said, her voice steady over the comms. "Enemy air units eliminated. Proceeding to the next area to assist other units."

"Roger that," came the reply from the Salvatian officer.

With a swift motion, Yoriko extended her engine wings and rocketed through the city, her mission clear. She hoped to soon rendezvous with the other units, ready to lend her strength wherever it was needed most.

...

A team of demolition marines had carefully planted explosives beneath the bridge, anticipating the arrival of the Britannian reinforcements, who were on their way to rendezvous with their units in the ghetto. As the team moved into position, the leader, a draconic kobold, stood with his finger on the trigger, waiting for the perfect moment.

"Alright, they're on the bridge," he muttered, his eyes narrowing. "Time to set off the fireworks."

With a swift motion, he pulled the trigger. The explosives beneath the bridge erupted in a massive blaze, consuming the Britannian forces as they crossed, reducing them to nothing more than smoldering debris in an instant.

...

Amidst the chaos of the battlefield, a lone Britannian soldier stood atop a building, watching the unfolding carnage. From his elevated position, he observed two imposing mecha fighters, identified as MX-001 Hellwraths, launching missiles that tore through three unsuspecting Sutherland knightmares, obliterating them in a burst of fire. The Hellwraths moved forward relentlessly, leaving destruction in their wake. This soldier, however, was no ordinary Britannian; it was Lelouch in disguise.

"It's those giant knightmares again," he muttered to himself, his gaze fixed on the machines. "I see them engaging Cornelia's forces... and they are winning. But not when I go after her first."

Lelouch paused, his mind racing.

"Although I can't seem to find any terrorists, I can use my Geass to bring them to my side," he mused. "Perhaps I can hack into their communications and make contact."

With a swift motion, he retrieved a customized cell phone, expertly hacking through a radio line to reach the Yamato Alliance. His fingers moved quickly, setting up the connection as he prepared his message.

"Hello? I am Zero," he spoke into the phone. "You're aware of the Shinjuku incident. Do as I say, and you'll survive."

But the silence on the other end was unnerving. No response came. Lelouch's suspicion grew.

"Hello?" he tried again, his voice tinged with doubt. "Are you there? Hello?"

...

In the dimly lit hideout of the Yamato Alliance, a resistance fighter's desperate cries echoed through the air.

"Mercy! Mercy! GAAHHH!!!" His pleas were cut short as Ronin Vindicator's blade severed his head cleanly from his body. The remaining three resistance fighters, scrambling in panic, opened fire from behind him. Yet their bullets seemed to bounce harmlessly off his impenetrable form. Without hesitation, Ronin Vindicator turned, his sword slicing through the air in a deadly arc, cleaving them all in half.

His gaze then landed on the Yamato leader, who, bloodied and broken, attempted to flee. Ronin Vindicator drew his "Infinite Eradicator" pistol, aiming with precision at the leader's leg. The shot rang out, and the leader crumpled to the floor with a scream, his leg blown apart. The leader, drenched in sweat and overcome with fear, tried to crawl away, his movements frantic.

But Ronin Vindicator stepped forward, casting a towering shadow over the wounded man. The leader turned, eyes wide with terror as he saw the merciless figure before him, his body trembling.

"Please, you don't have to do this! We can work together to fight against the Britannian oppressors!" he begged, his voice cracking.

"Silence." Ronin Vindicator's single word was final.

With a swift motion, he raised his enchanted high-frequency katana and sliced through the leader's body, cleaving him in half. The leader's life ended in an instant. After dispatching the last of the resistance, Ronin Vindicator heard a faint voice crackling over a walkie-talkie. He approached the device, which lay atop a table, and grabbed it, bringing it to his ear.

"Hello? Hello? Are you there? Please answer me," Lelouch's voice crackled through.

Ronin Vindicator smirked, recognizing the tone of confusion in the voice on the other end. He spoke calmly.

"Hello, Zero. I see you are here."

Lelouch's voice faltered in response, his disbelief evident. "Who is this? Where did you get this call? Are there—"

"They're dead," Ronin Vindicator interrupted coldly.

"What!" Lelouch's voice grew more frantic.

"They're no longer of any use to you. I know your plans, and so I gave them a merciful end," Ronin Vindicator continued. "Speaking of which, I'm sure you remember who I am. We met that night when I handed Suzaku over to you."

Lelouch's voice came back, now laden with recognition. "Wait... Ronin Vindicator!"

"That's right," Ronin Vindicator replied with finality. "Now, I hope you can enjoy watching as the groups affiliated with me deal with that so-called Goddess of Victory. Whether dead or alive, I will be with her."

Lelouch's voice rose in anger. "So those guys are yours? Hold on—no, Cornelia is mine to be taken! Not you!"

Ronin Vindicator's response was cold and firm. "Not a chance. But don't worry, today is not her time to die. Her humiliation will come in due time. I wish I could meet you in person, but I have other things to attend to. Perhaps we will meet again. Farewell, fallen prince."

With that, Ronin Vindicator threw a device onto the ground and stomped on it, ensuring the communication would be cut off. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving the dead bodies strewn across the floor behind him.

...

Lelouch's eyes widened in shock as Ronin Vindicator's words echoed in his mind. The weight of his failure hit him like a physical blow. His teeth ground together in frustration, realizing that his chance to get closer to Cornelia was slipping through his fingers. In a fit of rage, he hurled the customized phone to the ground, the device shattering under the force of his anger.

"Damn you... Damn you, Ronin Vindicator!" Lelouch muttered through clenched teeth, his voice thick with fury. "You've ruined my chance to take down Cornelia on my own terms!"

The sudden roar of an engine pierced the air, and Lelouch spun around just in time to see a VTOL gunship plummeting toward him, a trail of smoke marking its descent.

"Oh shit!" Lelouch hissed, panic surging through him. "I'm out of here."

Without a moment's hesitation, he vaulted off the roof, narrowly avoiding the crashing gunship as it slammed into the ground with a thunderous crash. Heart racing, Lelouch continued his sprint, weaving through the chaos of the battlefield. The sounds of gunfire and explosions reverberated in the distance, but he didn't stop to look. His only focus was reaching the rendezvous point, where he could escape into the sewer system and vanish into the shadows. He ran with single-minded determination, never once glancing back.

...

Outside the G1-Base

Outside the G1-Base, the Purist faction, now under Princess Cornelia's command, stood in disbelief as they watched the bridge, once a vital path for the Britannian forces to cross into the ghetto, crumble into ruins.

Kewell stared in shock. "What the—The bridge is destroyed!"

Jeremiah's gaze was fixed on the wreckage, his expression darkening as he took in the devastation. The Britannian troops who had crossed the bridge were no more. "They're dead. All of them."

Viletta, eyes narrowing, spoke cautiously. "Could it be Zero?"

Jeremiah hesitated for a moment, his mind racing. "Yes. But wait... something doesn't feel right."

Before he could say more, the sound of engines roared through the air. Jeremiah turned, just in time to see two VTOL gunships swooping toward the ruined city. In an instant, both were obliterated by a devastating slash wave.

Kewell cursed under his breath. "What the—!"

Viletta's eyes scanned the horizon. "The gunships! Where did that attack come from?"

One of the Purist pilots squinted, spotting something in the distance. "Hey. It's over there!"

Everyone's attention snapped toward the direction he indicated. Though they couldn't make out the details, the massive silhouette of a knightmare frame loomed in the distance.

Jeremiah's voice was filled with both curiosity and concern. "What is that?"

...

Inside the G1-Base, the Britannian officers worked tirelessly to repair the malfunctioning systems, but their efforts proved futile. Suddenly, one of the officers at the window noticed something outside.

"What the—!" the Royal Guard officer exclaimed.

Cornelia, her attention piqued, turned to him. "What is going on there?"

The officer's voice was filled with concern. "Your Highness, there's something in the distance. It's a knightmare."

"A knightmare!" Gilbert shouted, his eyes widening.

Cornelia immediately rose from her seat, walking to the window. Gilbert and Darlton followed closely behind, their gazes fixed on what lay ahead. What they saw sent a shiver down their spines.

A towering mecha frame stood before them, its design sleek and imposing. The frame was a deep black, highlighted with bold red accents and trimmed with golden edges. The angular lines of the body contrasted with the smooth curves, creating a perfect blend of menace and grace. Atop its head, a striking golden V-fin rose, resembling a regal warrior's crest, a symbol of strength and authority on the battlefield. Its crimson eyes glowed ominously, set within a helmet-like structure, radiating an undeniable intensity.

The mecha's chest armor was robust and heavily reinforced, encasing an intricate core that pulsed with radiant energy, likely powered by a neutron fusion core. The golden plating stood out against the dark and red hues of the body, drawing attention to the mecha's vital systems. Around the core, multiple energy vents suggested that it could release bursts of excess power, either as a defensive mechanism or to unleash devastating shockwaves.

Its arms and legs were designed with deadly precision. Blade-like extensions adorned its limbs, perfect for both offense and defense in close combat. The forearms were equipped with rapid-fire Chemrail vulcan cannons, ensuring superiority in ranged combat. Its legs, sleek and adorned with red and gold accents, allowed for nimble maneuvers and powerful kicks.

The mecha's most imposing feature, however, was the massive dual-edged sword resting on its back—a red, enchanted high-frequency katana. This weapon, likely charged with energy from the core, had the potential to cut through any defense or unleash devastating energy slashes.

This was no ordinary knightmare frame, rather it is an elite rank mecha frame. This was Black Ronin, piloted by Ronin Vindicator, and it loomed over them with an aura of unmatched power.

As the gaze of everyone fixed upon the looming Black Ronin, a voice echoed through the air.

"Princess Cornelia!" The speaker crackled with the voice of Ronin Vindicator. "You may soon witness the consequences of your brother's death. I am Ronin Vindicator, and you have lost. As you can see, your forces have been decimated, and soon, you will share their fate, little princess!"

Darlton's fists clenched in fury. "That scum. Who does he think he is?"

The venom in Ronin Vindicator's words stung Cornelia deeply. She tightened her grip, her mind racing as she finally recognized the masked man. The realization hit her like a dagger—he was worse than Zero. The man before her was responsible for the death of Clovis, and she could hardly suppress the growing hatred. He was someone she now wanted dead with every fiber of her being.

Ronin Vindicator's voice rang out once more. "If you have the guts to kill me, come and get me. Unless, of course, you're too cowardly to face me."

The taunt was a sharp sting to the Britannians, and it set their blood to boil. The audacity of this man, challenging them so openly, was intolerable. Gilbert, unable to hold his tongue any longer, spoke up.

"Your Highness!" he exclaimed, his anger evident. "Should I go out there and face that terrorist? He dares to insult you so!"

Cornelia's expression hardened, the determination in her eyes unmistakable. "Very well, my knight. Show this fool what happens to those who dare to stand against my royal guard."

"By your command, Your Highness," Gilbert replied with a bow, his loyalty unwavering. He then exited the cockpit, preparing to board his knightmare frame.

Cornelia turned her gaze to Darlton, a question lingering in the air. "And you, Darlton? Will you not accompany him?"

Darlton, ever steadfast, gave a respectful nod. "My apologies, but I'd prefer to stay here, guarding you in case he tries to slip past us."

Cornelia's eyes softened slightly at his dedication. She gave him a nod of understanding, her trust in her knights unwavering.

...

Black Ronin moved steadily toward his adversaries, his path blocked by a sea of Sutherland knightmares. As he closed in, a new group appeared—a squadron of Gloucester knightmares, led by Gilbert Guildford, Commander of Princess Cornelia's forces. The Sutherland knightmares parted, creating a path for the approaching leader. Gilbert, armed with a jousting lance, advanced with the grace of a knight, prepared for the challenge that Black Ronin posed.

"Ronin Vindicator," Gilbert called out, his voice ringing with authority. "I am Gilbert Guildford, knight of her Royal Highness, Princess Cornelia li Britannia!"

A voice from the speakers echoed in response, announcing Gilbert's challenge.

"Your words are nothing but empty insults!" Gilbert continued, his tone rising. "Daring to offend the Highness of the Holy Britannian Empire—You will regret this!"

With a fierce cry, Gilbert issued his challenge. "I demand a duel!"

"Accepted," came the cold, unflinching reply from Black Ronin.

Gilbert took his fighting stance, preparing for a traditional knightly battle. But before he could even react, Black Ronin surged forward, moving with unnatural speed.

"What the—?!" Gilbert gasped, unable to brace himself in time. In a flash, Black Ronin unsheathed his enchanted high-frequency katana and slashed across Gilbert's arm, severing it from the rest of his body. With a second, more brutal strike, the Gloucester knightmare was cleaved in half and crumpled to the ground.

Gilbert let out a strangled scream, unable to process the sudden attack. "Ah! W-What just happened?"

Before he could comprehend the horror unfolding, Black Ronin grabbed the dismembered half of the knightmare, effortlessly tossing it far from the Saitama ghetto. The Britannians were stunned—no knightmare, not even one as powerful as Gilbert's, could be so easily destroyed. The Sutherland knightmares, witnessing this brutal display, turned their heads in shock.

With an emotionless voice, Black Ronin spoke again. "Now that the knight is gone, it's time for you all to die."

He sped toward the remaining enemy knightmares, effortlessly crushing them in his wake. The G1-Base turrets attempted to target him, but were swiftly neutralized by his relentless assault. As he continued his rampage, Black Ronin's gaze fell upon the ambulances marked with the red cross, an emblem of hope and life.

He raised his hand, conjuring an energy ball with a chilling declaration. "You don't deserve to carry that logo, participating in the operation of killing these people you call by numbers."

He hurled the energy ball at the ambulances, obliterating them and wiping out the medical personnel inside. It was a violation of every code of warfare, but in this universe, those conventions held no weight. The Geneva Convention had no place here, nor did Ronin Vindicator. Black Ronin unleashed another devastating wave of destruction, using a flamethrower to burn everything in his path, leaving no survivors, no mercy for those attempting to flee.

The Purist Sutherland knightmares arrived just in time to witness the aftermath—nothing but ruin. They watched in disbelief as the massive Black Ronin towered above them, its destructive power unlike anything they had ever encountered. This was no mere knightmare, but something far beyond the capacity of human might.

"Wha-What is this?" Villetta Nu whispered, her voice trembling with awe and fear.

Kewell, his eyes wide with disbelief, stammered, "That... That thing is..."

A Purist soldier, overcome with terror, shouted, "It's a monster! A monster!"

Black Ronin slowly turned his head, locking eyes with them. Kewell recoiled in terror.

"Gah! It's looking right at us!" he shouted in panic.

Jeremiah, struggling to maintain his composure, barked, "Stand tall! We are Britannians! We are—"

Before he could finish, the knightmares were lifted off the ground, as if by some invisible force. Black Ronin raised his hand, channeling an immense power through his mecha frame.

"Begone. Your presence isn't needed," he commanded coldly.

With a single motion, he hurled the knightmares far from the battlefield, sending them crashing into the distance. Black Ronin then turned his attention to the G1-Base, walking toward it with unwavering resolve.

Inside the G1-Base cockpit, Cornelia and her officers were frozen in shock, unable to comprehend the scale of destruction they had just witnessed. Gilbert's swift and dishonorable defeat, the obliteration of their forces at impossible speed—nothing they had ever encountered could explain the monstrous power Black Ronin wielded.

Darlton, his voice shaky, muttered, "What—what sorcery is this?"

Cornelia's face twisted with rage and disbelief. "He... he dishonored my knight," she whispered, her voice filled with shock. "How is he able to do this?"

Her thoughts were consumed by the realization that her entire force had been annihilated—her trusted knight, Gilbert, defeated before he even had a chance to fight. The Purist faction had been effortlessly cast aside, all of them reduced to nothing in mere moments.

Suddenly, Black Ronin appeared before them, his towering form casting a long shadow across the window. Cornelia's fury flared as she glared at him through the glass.

"You..." she spat, her eyes burning with loathing.

Black Ronin's voice rang out, cold and calculating. "Princess Cornelia, soon your fate will be mine to decide. But not today. You will live, but only in humiliating defeat. I shall give you a way home."

Cornelia, confused and angry, demanded, "What is he—?"

Before anyone could react, the room shook violently as the entire G1-Base was lifted into the air. Black Ronin channeled his immense strength, using the power of his mecha frame to lift the base and spin it around. He threw it far from the Saitama ghetto, sending it crashing into the distance.

With that, victory belonged to Salvatia. The Salvatians would ensure that no one survived, that no word would spread of what had just transpired. No one would leave this place alive.

...

Lelouch stumbled through the underground sewer, his breaths ragged and labored. His body, drained from the relentless sprint, struggled to keep up with his racing thoughts. He collapsed to his knees for a moment, gasping for air, when suddenly, out of the shadows, C.C. appeared, her figure cloaked in the unmistakable Zero outfit.

"Why are you here?" Lelouch gasped, trying to steady himself.

"I came to save you," C.C. replied coolly, her gaze never leaving him. "But it seems you've been running away before your plan even had a chance to start."

Lelouch's frustration boiled over as he shot back, "That would have been the case if those guys hadn't interfered with my plan!"

C.C. let out a soft chuckle. "What a sore loser you are. You must have known they were well-prepared, well-equipped, and well-coordinated. They outplayed you."

Lelouch clenched his fists. "Wait... You've been watching them the entire time? The Britannians?"

"They lost," C.C. stated flatly. "The Japanese had no part in it."

Lelouch blinked, disbelief seizing him. "No... Japanese? Does this mean that the Ronin Vindicator is behind saving the Japanese people, while eliminating the resistance in the Saitama ghetto?"

C.C. gave a nonchalant shrug. "Perhaps. He might be trying to gain the people's trust, while eliminating anyone who stands in his way."

Lelouch's mind churned with the revelation. "So, he views them as rivals? Those who refuse to cooperate with him... will die?"

C.C.'s gaze hardened. "It seems he's far ahead of you, Lelouch. I don't think you'll be able to catch up to him. You should consider giving up."

"No," Lelouch's voice was firm, his resolve unwavering. "I won't stop. Someone, wearing a mask, commands a secret army, capable of killing Clovis and then defeating Cornelia. Not even I know who they are."

His eyes burned with determination. "I refuse to lose to this so-called Ronin Vindicator."

C.C. raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly do you plan to do?"

Lelouch's gaze never wavered. "I know exactly what I'll do."

He straightened up, his voice steady and resolute. "I'll set them up. I'll build an army that can crush Britannia, and that masked Ronin Vindicator. I'll create a people, a nation. I swear to you, I will uncover his secrets and expose them for the world to see."

His eyes gleamed with unwavering conviction. This was his mission—his fight to win, no matter what it took.