On the outskirts of Shinjuku, in the vicinity of the JBC Broadcasting Station.
Fortunately, when we arrived, the Britannian regular forces had yet to make their appearance. However, the situation was already spiraling toward a catastrophic nadir.
Rat-tat-tat! Bang!
Intermittent gunfire and blood-curdling screams echoed from deep within the building.
The main entrance—shattered glass everywhere and acrid smoke billowing out—had already been blockaded by armed terrorists.
"Precisely on schedule."
I stared intently at the bank of monitors inside the command trailer.
The station's signal had been hijacked. Amidst a cacophony of static and digital artifacts, several masked men flickered onto the screens.
[…Can you hear us? You Britannian lapdogs!]
In the center of the frame, a man wearing a red headband glared into the lens with bloodshot, maniacal eyes.
[We are the Blood Alliance! Release our comrades immediately! If our demands are not met within thirty minutes…!]
Clack.
The man leveled a handgun at the temple of a female announcer kneeling beside him. Her face was a mask of sheer terror, her body trembling uncontrollably.
[Starting with this woman, we will send one hostage to hell every ten minutes!]
"No…"
Ohgi, watching the screen, clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"This isn't a struggle for liberation. Taking civilians hostage and threatening them is nothing but cowardice…"
"We have to stop them. Before they pull the trigger."
Even Kallen's voice was vibrating with a suppressed, righteous fury.
I remained composed, my fingers dancing across the tablet. This was all possible because I had established an emergency link with Jeremiah just before our departure.
'Sir Jeremiah, delay the military's deployment as much as humanly possible.'
'Understood, Your Highness. Under the pretext of traffic control and troop assembly delays, I will buy you at least twenty minutes. Furthermore, the requested data is being transmitted now.'
As the 'Transfer Complete' notification flashed on the screen, I immediately cast the file onto the primary monitor.
"Eyes up, everyone. This is the interior blueprint of the broadcasting station."
The members' eyes widened as a complex 3D schematic unfolded before them.
"H-How did you get this…?"
"I exfiltrated the data the military had prepared for their own breach operation. We have no time to waste. I am issuing the tactical directives now."
I highlighted a specific sector of the schematic in a violent crimson.
"The hostages are currently being detained in the Main News Studio on the third floor. The enemy has concentrated their forces at the main entrance and the lobby. A frontal assault would be an exercise in suicide."
I pointed toward a side sector of the building, specifically an emergency passage linked to the ventilation system.
"Yoshida-san."
"Yes, Strategist."
"The First Platoon, under your command, will infiltrate through this freight loading dock. Since it's a maintenance passage for the ventilation facilities, their surveillance will be negligent. You will proceed stealthily until you are directly above the main studio."
"Above the studio? You mean we're supposed to break through the ceiling?"
"Precisely. Once you secure the lighting catwalks, you will launch a coordinated surprise assault from above upon my signal. Your mission is the recovery of the hostages and the neutralization of the terrorists. Yours is the most pivotal role in this operation."
"Understood. I'll carry it out without a single error."
Yoshida nodded, his expression etched with grim determination.
"Sugiyama-san."
"Right here."
"While Yoshida's team infiltrates, your commando unit will create a disturbance at the opposite stairwell. It is a classic feint to divide their attention. However, do not overcommit to a firelight. Engage in hit-and-run tactics to throw them into disarray."
"A diversion, eh? That's my specialty. Leave it to me."
At that moment, Tamaki, looking profoundly slighted, raised his hand high.
"Hey! Lelouch! What about me? What am I supposed to do? Surely you aren't telling me to just sit here and watch?!"
His face was full of dissatisfaction at being the only one excluded. Behind my mask, a subtle, calculating smile tugged at my lips as I looked toward him.
"Far from it, Tamaki-san. I have reserved the most critical assignment of all for you."
"T-The most critical assignment?"
Tamaki's ears seemed to perk up instantly with interest.
"Securing the extraction route."
"…The extraction route?"
"Whether this operation succeeds or fails, if we have no hole to crawl out of, we face total annihilation. Furthermore, we need a guaranteed escape path to evacuate the rescued hostages safely."
I pointed to the rear parking lot on the map.
"This area is essentially our team's lifeline. If someone as reliable and quick-thinking as you doesn't guard it, I cannot execute this plan with peace of mind. May I entrust this to you?"
"The lifeline… a reliable person…"
Tamaki's mouth twitched, and soon a grin wide enough to reach his ears split his face.
"Heh! I knew it, Lelouch! You really do have an eye for talent! Fine! I'll hold onto the Black Knights' lifeline with a death grip, so you guys go ahead and run wild without a worry!"
"My thanks."
He was a man so simplistic he was practically effortless to manipulate. Finally, I turned my attention toward Kallen.
"Kallen."
"Yeah."
Kallen was already zipping up her pilot suit, fully prepared for sorties.
"You will remain on standby within the Sutherland loaded in the trailer."
"What? Standby? Wouldn't it be better if I went inside to help?"
Kallen asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"No. Yoshida's team is more than sufficient for indoor urban combat. Where I need you is for the contingency."
"The contingency?"
"In the event that the military's Knightmares arrive early, or if the enemy reveals hidden heavy weaponry. That is when you will strike to sow chaos. You are our insurance policy—the final bulwark."
"…I understand. The final bulwark, huh? That's a lot of responsibility."
Kallen picked up her Knightmare activation key, a sharp, confident smile playing on her lips.
"To your positions. Operation commencement is in three minutes. To maximize tactical efficiency, all communication during the mission will be unified in an informal manner. Everyone, lock your channels and await my signal."
"Roger!"
As the command was given, the members swiftly leaped from the truck and scattered into the enveloping darkness. I remained alone in the hollow trailer, staring at the ticking timer on the monitor.
[Time Remaining Until Execution: 08 minutes 42 seconds]
'We must move quickly.'
I have no Geass here. But I have them.
I must ensure the debut of the Black Knights is an unqualified success.
"Now then… showtime."
[3 Minutes Prior to Operation Commencement]
Inside the trailer near the broadcasting station on the Shinjuku outskirts.
Only the pale, electronic glow emanating from dozens of monitors illuminated my face.
Surveillance feeds from inside the station, body-cam footage from my operatives, and even thermal sensor data from the building's perimeter.
This was a familiar landscape—one I had navigated countless times in tactical command centers in my past life.
The only difference was that back then, they were virtual pawns in a simulator. Now, it was a live operation.
And what I held in my hands was not a mock-up of authority, but real lives.
'This is no game. But I must treat it as one. Divest myself of emotion and move purely based on data and stratagems.'
Out of habit, I tapped my index finger against the console deck before securing my earpiece.
"Comms check. Alpha Team Leader, what is your signal quality?"
After a burst of crackling static, Yoshida's voice came through.
[…Alpha Leader here. Signal is clear. Current position: catwalks. It's a bit dusty, but I have a panoramic view of the target zone.]
Yoshida's voice was taut with tension, yet lacked the tremors of fear.
Perhaps because he had endured the grueling CQC simulation drills I had designed, he was far more composed than I expected.
"Status report."
[Target area: Main Studio. Six hostiles identified around the stage. Four guarding the entrance. Total: ten combatants. Hostages are clustered in the center of the stage. The suspected leader, the one with the red headband… damn it, he's agitated, holding the announcer.]
On the screen, the man in the red headband checked his watch and paced with restless agitation.
The weapon he clutched was an antiquated automatic pistol. The safety was disengaged, and his finger was resting inside the trigger guard.
A typical amateur. Men who don't even observe the basic trigger discipline of keeping their finger off the sear until the moment of discharge—at any moment, a negligent discharge could occur.
'Which makes them even more dangerous. They are unpredictable.'
I toggled the monitor to check the CCTV on the opposite side of the building. I could see the main body of their forces concentrated in the front lobby.
"Their firing lanes are focused on the front entrance. The rear is hollow. A textbook defensive entrenchment. Sugiyama, Bravo Team, what is your status?"
[Bravo here. Infiltration of the west stairs complete. The fireworks are in place. Just give the signal and I'll make it a spectacle.]
Sugiyama's voice was relaxed. I checked my wristwatch.
"Very well. Commencing Operation Shadow Play. Bravo Team, initiate the deception stratagem. Divert their attention to the west. However, avoid direct engagement. Confuse them with noise and smoke, then disengage."
[Roger. Beginning countdown. 3, 2, 1…]
I switched off the microphone and counted the final digits under my breath.
Zero.
BOOM!!
Beyond the monitor, at the west stairs, a thunderous roar erupted as black smoke billowed upward. The potency of the improvised smoke grenades, crafted from salvaged fire extinguishers, exceeded expectations. Simultaneously, fire alarms began their shrill, chaotic wailing throughout the entire station.
[Wh-What?! An explosion?!]
[It came from the west! Have the Britannians breached already?!]
The terrorists on the monitor began to scramble in confusion.
[Squads 3 and 4! Check the west stairs! If you see them, open fire!]
At the leader's shout, the four men guarding the entrance grabbed their rifles and hastily exited the studio.
'They bit the bait.'
I performed a final count of the remaining hostiles.
Six remained around the stage. Two were watching the hostages, while three others were guarding the entrance with their backs turned. Only the leader was left raging in the center.
A blind spot had been created.
I toggled the mic again, my voice turning cold as ice.
"Alpha Team, prepare for breach. Confirm breaching points."
[Confirmed. Gaps in the ceiling light rigging secured.]
"Total: six targets. Priority is the armed personnel. Neutralize the leader last. Focus on incapacitation rather than lethal force; our objective is the manifestation of justice, not a massacre. Ready?"
[Ready.]
"Breach upon flashbang detonation. Code word is 'Black'. 3, 2, 1, BLACK! BLACK! BLACK!"
I stared unblinkingly at the monitor. Two silver canisters dropped silently from the shadows of the studio ceiling.
The leader, agitated by the metallic clatter on the floor, turned his head just as they detonated.
Flash!
The screen flared white.
An intense brilliance and thunderous report swallowed the studio. It was that fleeting moment where the sensory organs of the terrorists—unprotected by acoustic headsets—were temporarily paralyzed.
[Aargh! My eyes!]
[I can't see!]
Amidst the screams, the men clutched their eyes and staggered blindly.
"Enter! Enter! Go! Go! Go!"
At my roar, black shadows cascaded down on ropes from the ceiling.
Yoshida and the First Platoon fanned out with practiced, rapid efficiency.
"Front secured! Left clear!"
"Hands up! Move and I fire!"
"Drop your weapons!"
Their movements lacked the surgical precision of Britannian Special Forces, but they possessed the raw, feral momentum unique to the Black Knights.
Yoshida struck the nearest terrorist in the solar plexus with the butt of his rifle.
"Urgh!"
As the man collapsed, the operative following behind him bound his wrists with zip ties.
Bang! Bang-bang!
A terrorist whose vision had not yet returned fired blindly into the air, but the operatives had already ducked behind hard cover.
"Three o'clock! Neutralize him!"
At Yoshida's command, the operatives simultaneously discharged shotguns loaded with rubber slugs.
With dull impacts, the remaining terrorists collapsed, howling in pain. Within seconds, five had been neutralized. Only the leader remained.
Though he was stumbling with tears and bile streaming down his face, he instinctively grabbed the announcer by the hair and dragged her in front of him as a shield.
[St-Stop! Stay back! If you move, I'll blow her head off!]
[Aaaaaahhh!]
The announcer's scream echoed through the studio as he pressed the barrel of his pistol against her temple.
"Ceasefire! Ceasefire! Maintain current positions!"
Yoshida urgently signaled his team to halt.
'Damn it. His reaction speed was faster than anticipated.'
I bit my lip. The man's finger was trembling violently, as if he might pull the trigger at any second. In such a state, neither negotiation nor threats would reach him.
[I-I'll kill you all! Are you the Britannian Army? You cowards, sneaking in like this!]
Consumed by terror and mania, the leader shrieked. He glared into the broadcast camera with eyes that had completely lost touch with reality.
[Are you watching?! If you bastards don't back off, this woman is—!]
Time was running out. His patience had reached its nadir, and I needed to divert his attention immediately.
I needed a shock potent enough to completely tear his focus away from the hostage and my operatives.
'Psychological warfare. I must weaponize his own fear.'
"Yoshida, hold. Fire on my signal. The target is his right shoulder."
[Understood. We'll only get one shot.]
"I know. I'll create the opening."
The studio's massive multivision screens suddenly flickered and went dark.
Then, the symbol of Zero—the one I had prepared beforehand—rose to fill every screen. Simultaneously, I maximized the volume on every speaker in the studio.
[The cowards here are you.]
A distorted, synthesized voice thundered through the studio, nearly tearing the speaker cones.
[Wh-What?! Who are you!]
Startled by the abrupt change in the environment, the leader looked around frantically.
[Using civilians as shields and threatening the weak—is this what you call a 'struggle'?]
[Shut up! Where are you hiding! Show yourself!]
[I am Zero. I am the blade of the powerless, and the judge of all evil.]
"Zero? What kind of nonsense is this!"
In the trailer, gripping the microphone, I measured the timing. My voice on the screen was shattering his mental state. Instinctively, the leader's gaze was drawn toward the massive screen.
Now.
"Yoshida, take him down!"
Crack!
Yoshida's rifle spat fire, and the bullet accurately pierced the leader's right shoulder joint.
[Guaaaaaargh!]
Blood sprayed, and the pistol fell uselessly from the man's hand.
"Suppress him!"
At Yoshida's shout, two operatives sprang forward like uncoiled springs. They slammed the screaming leader to the floor, pinning his arms back into a submission lock.
"Target secured! Neutralization confirmed! Hostage safety secured!"
Yoshida's report, urgent yet certain, came through my earpiece. I leaned back into the seat and let out a long, ragged breath. Cold sweat traced its way down my spine.
"Well done, Alpha Team. Situation closed."
"Wh-Who are you people?"
The released announcer sat on the floor, her voice trembling as she asked. The broadcast cameras were still rolling, their red lamps blinking. Everyone in the world—or at least everyone in the Shinjuku district—must have witnessed this live.
"Yoshida. Connect the prepared data pack to the main console."
[Roger.]
Yoshida retrieved a pre-prepared disc from his pocket and slotted it into the broadcast equipment.
The screen flickered once more, and the feed being transmitted across the airwaves changed.
Emerging from the shadows, a man wearing a mask and a billowing cape—me, Zero—appeared in a pre-recorded message.
[Hear me, Britannia. And those of you who suffer.
We are the Black Knights. We are those who protect the powerless from those who possess power.
We are the champions of justice! Therefore, those cowards who threaten innocent civilians like the Blood Alliance, and the merciless oppressors of Britannia alike—all are our enemies!
We will no longer stand by and watch the strong devour the weak. You who believe yourselves to be 'good' while trampling upon others—be prepared. Whenever the powerful prey upon the powerless, we shall appear once more.
It is we, the Black Knights, who shall judge this world!]
As the footage concluded, it was masterfully edited to show the terrorists sprawled on the floor, juxtaposed with the Black Knights standing triumphantly over them.
Watching the monitor transmitting the broadcast, I curled my lip into a smirk.
With this, our debut is perfect.
Suddenly, a sharp warning klaxon erupted from the external surveillance monitor.
[WARNING. Multiple Britannian police vehicles and Knightmare Frames approaching. Distance: 2km, Northeast road.]
The time Jeremiah had bought me was up. It was time to make our exit.
'Escaping through the main lobby is impossible. They are already tightening the perimeter.'
Merely running was insufficient; I had to paralyze the Britannian military's advance.
'If that's the case, I will exploit Britannia's greatest weakness.'
This entire situation was being broadcast live across Japan. Given that there were Britannians among the hostages, if casualties occurred due to a reckless breach, Clovis's prestige would be utterly ruined.
"Yoshida, change of plans. Release all hostages immediately."
[What? What do you mean by—?]
"We are using the hostages as shields."
[What?! Zero, isn't that exactly what terrorists do!]
Yoshida's voice rose in shock. But I continued my explanation calmly.
"Do not misunderstand. I am not telling you to threaten the hostages. We are sending them out through the front entrance to use them as a vector of chaos."
I magnified the feed from the front entrance camera.
"Military personnel are currently attempting a breach at the lobby. If they realize we are exfiltrating through the rear, they will surround the building with Knightmares. We must prevent that."
[So, how…?]
"Leak false information to the hostages that a time bomb planted by the terrorists is about to detonate. Then, herd them toward the main lobby."
[Ah…!]
Yoshida let out a breath of realization.
"When dozens of terrified, screaming civilians pour out, the military will be forced to control and protect them, bottlenecking their breach point."
[Understood! It's a double-edged stratagem: we save the civilians and halt the enemy's advance.]
"Precisely. Execute it."
Yoshida immediately approached the hostages and shouted something urgently. Their eyes widened with renewed terror, and as one, they began sprinting toward the main entrance as Yoshida pointed.
"Aaaaaaaah!"
"Help! There's a bomb!"
"We have to get out of here!"
Dozens of hostages streamed out of the studio and into the corridors. I checked the lobby CCTV. The Britannian soldiers attempting to breach were visibly bewildered, caught in a literal human tide.
[Get out of the way! Move!]
[Save me! There's a bomb inside!]
[Calm down! Don't push! Everyone on the floor!]
The soldiers tried to restrain the crowd, but the panic-stricken civilians were beyond control. The station's main entrance was instantly transformed into a vortex of chaos. Even the massive Sutherland Knightmare Frames had to halt and back away to avoid crushing the people pouring out like ants.
'Perfect!'
I allowed myself a satisfied smile.
"Attention all units, transition to withdrawal phase. Tamaki!"
[Yeah! I've got the trucks running! Come out whenever you're ready!]
"Alpha, Bravo teams—maintain your intervals and move to the rear exit. Gear up and board within two minutes!"
[Roger!]
The operatives moved with disciplined precision on the screens. Like shadows, the Black Knights melted into the dark and headed for the rear exit. In stark contrast to the cacophonous front entrance, the back was as silent as a tomb.
I performed a final task, accessing the broadcasting station's server to run a script to wipe our digital fingerprints. As my finger pressed the 'Enter' key, a thrill of pure adrenaline coursed through me.
It was a sensation I had never truly felt before—the exhilaration of becoming 'Zero', a master of intricate strategy and psychological manipulation, making a mockery of a titanic enemy.
"Return home. Before they can settle the chaos."
Just as I was about to power down the communication panel, an incoming call chimed on a separate encrypted channel.
[Zero, this is Q-1. Is the operation over?]
It was Kallen. Her voice carried a mixture of relief and heavy disappointment.
"Situation concluded. Victory belongs to the Black Knights."
[So my turn never came. 'The final bulwark,' you said? You didn't just treat me as extra baggage, did you?]
Her tone was complaining, but beneath it, I could sense her unwavering trust. I let out a soft chuckle as I replied into the mic.
"In chess, the most powerful piece—the Queen—is not moved haphazardly, Kallen. It was precisely because you were guarding our rear that the others could strike forward without hesitation."
[…You and your silver tongue.]
Kallen snorted, but her voice had softened significantly.
[Fine. Tonight was… quite impressive, Zero.]
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Once the communication severed, I removed my mask and placed it upon the console. Leaving the images of the disoriented Britannian military behind me on the monitors, I rose from my seat.
"Now then, shall we go back?"