A month had vanished like a gust of wind since the incident at the JBC broadcasting station.
Rather than screaming grand slogans of revolution, we focused our efforts on pruning the rotted roots directly beneath our feet.
We still lacked the raw power to wage a full-scale war against the Imperial Army, and our Knightmare Frame reserves were insufficient for a sustained campaign.
Thus, we moved with stealth—clandestine, yet utterly lethal.
[Incident Record 1: Abandoned Factory, Shinjuku 3rd Ward]
"Hey, is the cargo legitimate? Obtaining Refrain these days is like plucking a star from the heavens."
"Have no fear. This is top-grade stuff, siphoned directly from the military supply routes."
Inside the shadows of the derelict factory, a Britannian drug peddler and an Eleven broker were covertly exchanging briefcases.
These were the parasites, siphoning the lifeblood of the Elevens to fatten the Empire's coffers.
From the steel rafters of the ceiling, I looked down upon them and signaled with a sharp hand gesture.
'Now.'
Phut!
Specialized rounds from suppressed rifles shattered the factory's primary light fixtures. As darkness swallowed the room, Yoshida's voice thundered through the void.
"Flashbangs, out!"
Flash!
A blinding magnesium flare erupted, bleaching the dealers' vision white.
"Gah! My eyes!"
"What?! What's happening?!"
The panicked rats reached for their holsters, but the response of the Black Knights was far swifter.
Thud! Crack!
"Hands up! Move and you're dead!"
Leaping from the shadows, members of the First Platoon fired precise rubber bullets to neutralize any armed hands. Those few who dared to resist were silenced by the blue discharge of taser guns, collapsing into seizures.
Three minutes. That was all it took to conclude the operation. I descended slowly, walking through the ranks of sprawled drug dealers.
"Y-You... the Black Knights?!"
Zero's mask was reflected in the terror-stricken eyes of the dealer.
"There is no mercy for parasites who feast on the agony of the Elevens. Refrain ends in this sector tonight."
[Incident Record 2: Loan Shark Office, Outskirts of Saitama]
"If you can't pay back the debt, pay with your flesh! You damned monkeys!"
This was the office of 'Viper,' a notorious predatory lender. These vultures exploited the blind spots in Britannian law to impose murderous interest rates on the Elevens.
Crash!
The office door splintered as Sugiyama and Tamaki stormed in.
"Greetings, filth! Cleaning hour has arrived!"
"W-Who are you?! Guards! Where are the guards!"
The CEO shrieked, but his security had already been dealt with outside. I sat leisurely on the CEO's sofa and placed a laptop on the table.
"Your ledgers are quite fascinating. Double-entry bookkeeping, tax evasion, and even records of bribes paid to Britannian nobility."
"H-How did you...!"
"You'll have to ask our intelligence officer. Your servers have already been purged."
A member carrying communications gear gave me a thumbs up. With a single press of the Enter key, all of their financial data was transmitted simultaneously to the Police Agency servers and the press.
"The men coming to arrest you now won't be your bribed accomplices. They will be the few incorruptible officers you failed to pay off."
By the time tonight ended, we had successfully completed five such missions, including the social ruin of a nobleman who had been kidnapping Eleven girls.
The old warehouse we used as a hideout was filled with a festive atmosphere. Crates of beer Tamaki had scavenged from somewhere were stacked high, and the tables were littered with cooling pizza and chicken.
"Ha! Cheers! For the Black Knights!"
Tamaki, his face flushed red, raised a beer can high.
"For the Black Knights!"
The voices of the members were filled with a vitality far different from before.
"Did you see them? Lately, those bastards piss themselves the moment they hear our name! That Baron fellow earlier, and that loan shark jerk before him—they were all begging for their lives! It was pathetic!"
"True enough. The Britannians can't ignore us anymore."
Ohgi watched the group from a corner with a satisfied smile, while Yoshida silently maintained his equipment, a faint grin playing on his lips.
Having removed my mask, I sank deep into a sofa in the dark corner of the room, observing them.
'The morale is excellent.'
Organizational discipline had tightened, and their trust in my commands was absolute. However... things were progressing almost too smoothly. At times, a nagging sense of unease crept in.
Just then, someone switched on the television in the corner.
"Hey! Look at that! They're talking about us!"
The channel was 'The Focus,' a popular Britannian current affairs debate program.
[Special Feature: The Black Knights—Heroes or Criminals?]
The studio featured a moderator alongside a conservative military analyst and a liberal professor as panelists.
[Now, we discuss the group currently shaking Area 11: The Black Knights. While some laud them as vigilantes, the government has explicitly designated them as terrorists. Mr. Wilson, what is your take?]
The military analyst, his hair slicked with grease, snickered.
[Heroes? Preposterous. They are nothing more than a criminal gang flouting the rule of law. Look at the JBC station incident. Deceptive tactics involving hostages? That is a cowardly method no regular military force would ever dream of using.]
[But the testimonies of the civilians they rescued say otherwise. They minimized collateral damage and are systematically eliminating truly malignant criminals. There is a reason the public is enamored...]
As the professor opposite him tried to rebut, the analyst cut him off, raising his voice.
[That is exactly what we call populism! They exploit public discontent to paint themselves as champions of justice. In my view, this is all a cleverly staged performance. There may even be impure forces funding them from behind the scenes. Champions of justice? Don't make me laugh. There is no way men hiding behind masks can be honorable!]
The atmosphere in the warehouse instantly turned icy.
"That... that bastard's running his mouth!"
"How many people did we risk our lives to save... and he calls it a show?"
Tamaki looked ready to hurl the chicken drumstick he was eating at the television.
"Hey! Lelouch! Where is that station? Let's storm in tonight and shut that guy's trap...!"
Suddenly, the TV screen went black. Kallen tossed the remote onto the table with an expressionless face.
"Hey, why did you turn it off?! I was just getting warmed up!"
As Tamaki shouted in protest, Kallen brushed back her red hair and replied coldly.
"Because you're noisy."
"What? Hey, aren't you angry? He's calling us terrorists! He's insulting us as cowards!"
"And?"
Kallen looked at Tamaki, and then slowly scanned the faces of the shaken members.
"Why does it matter what those people chatter about? Do those suits have any idea who we are or what we've done?"
Her voice wasn't loud, but it held a weight that commanded the room.
"We saved children from drug dens. We returned money stolen by loan sharks. We sent girls home who were about to be trafficked. Those are the facts. We didn't start this to be evaluated by anyone. If the broadcast calls us heroes, do we become heroes? If they call us terrorists, are we terrorists? No, we aren't."
Her gaze rested on me in the corner for a moment before returning to her comrades.
"We only need to do what we set out to do. No matter what they say, we can show them with our results. I... am not ashamed to be a member of the Black Knights."
When Kallen finished, the heavy air weighing down the warehouse lifted. Tamaki blinked, speechless, and the anger flickering in Ohgi's eyes settled into calm.
"...Right. Kallen is correct."
Ohgi was the first to speak.
"We know best what we've done. We don't need validation from people like that."
"Exactly. What would a pathetic pundit like that know about the reality on the ground?"
At Yoshida's support, the members nodded. Internally, I marveled.
'As expected of Kallen.'
She was more than just an ace pilot. At times, she saw through to the core of an issue better than I did, grounding our wavering comrades. Having such a dependable ally might be the greatest weapon I possessed.
I stood up and grabbed a soda can.
"Kallen is right. Justice isn't something debated with words; it is proven through actions."
My firm tone drew everyone's attention.
"It doesn't matter what the world calls us. What matters is the fact that we are changing the world. Is that not so?"
Tamaki grinned and raised his glass again.
"Hehe, damn straight! That's our Strategist and Ace for you. Come on, let's keep drinking! While mocking that stupid analyst!"
"Cheers!"
Laughter filled the warehouse once more. Taking a sip of my drink, I walked toward a window that overlooked the night sky. In a spot where the others couldn't see, I pulled out a small terminal from my pocket.
It was an urgent encrypted transmission from Jeremiah that had arrived earlier this afternoon.
[Reporting. Contact with Private First Class Suzaku Kururugi has failed.]
For a moment, I stared blankly at the screen, unable to process the text.
[He is no longer with his assigned unit. My investigation reveals that he was transferred to an undisclosed location three days ago by high-level emergency orders. His current whereabouts are classified as Level 1 Military Secret, and access is impossible.]
My grip on the terminal tightened instinctively.
'Contact failed? Whereabouts unknown?'
According to the original history, Suzaku should have been serving in a standard unit as an Honorary Britannian soldier during this period. That was why I had attempted to secure him early through Jeremiah. But he wasn't there.
He didn't just transfer; he vanished into Level 1 classification.
'This diverges from the original.'
I hadn't killed Clovis yet, nor had the Shinjuku Uprising occurred. I thought I had avoided any major catastrophes that would severely warp the timeline.
Yet, one of the most critical pieces, Suzaku, was out of place.
'Is this the fallout from forming the Black Knights and the JBC incident? Or...'
Could the butterfly effect have already begun in places I couldn't see? A cold sweat ran down my spine. In this world, the only weapon I had for surviving while playing the part of Zero was my informational advantage regarding the future.
But the script was failing from the very start.
'Suzaku, where in the world are you?'
It felt as though an invisible fog was descending upon the chessboard.
The night streets back to the Ashford Clubhouse were as quiet as usual, but my mind was as chaotic as the eye of a storm.
'Suzaku has already been moved...?'
By all rights, he should still be a mere grunt in the infantry. Until he accidentally piloted the Lancelot during the Shinjuku Uprising, he was just "Honorary Britannian Soldier A" with excellent physical specs.
'Has Lloyd Asplund already discovered him? If so, it means the development schedule for the Lancelot has been moved up.'
My head throbbed. The butterfly effect—the things I had done were acting as ripples, twisting the future I knew slightly, yet unmistakably.
"I'm home, Nunnally."
I pushed aside my complicated thoughts and opened the front door with the brightest voice I could muster.
"Welcome home, Brother."
Nunnally turned her wheelchair to greet me. Her expression held a mix of welcome and a subtle pout.
"You're late again today. You seem so busy lately. And you aren't just staying late at school for Student Council business either..."
"Ah... sorry, Nunnally. I've had a lot of things to handle outside the Council lately."
I offered a brief nod to Sayoko-san as she took my coat, making up an excuse.
"I have some friends who need my help. They're such troublemakers that things go south the moment I'm not around to assist them."
"Hmm..."
Nunnally tilted her head curiously, then asked with a mischievous smile.
"Could it be... that this 'friend' is Kallen?"
Choke!
I choked on my own saliva and began coughing.
"Wh-what? Kallen? No, where did that come from...?"
"There are rumors all over school that you and Kallen are constantly together these days. Shirley called me, and she sounded so upset."
"Ah, ahahaha... That's a misunderstanding. Kallen and I are just... an extension of Student Council duties... you see..."
Sweat beaded on my forehead. If rumors about Kallen and me were thick enough for Nunnally to know, they must have spread through the entire Student Council. In my flustered state, I babbled as I tried to soothe her.
"Nunnally, your brother is someone who strictly separates public and private matters. I'm definitely not busy with that sort of thing."
"Is that so? Then don't be too cold to Shirley. She came to visit this afternoon."
"Shirley...?"
"Yes. She brought some cookies she baked herself. You weren't here, so she waited for a long time before finally leaving. She looked quite disappointed..."
Nunnally's words sent a pang through my chest. Between the Black Knights and everything else, I had been so preoccupied that I'd neglected those closest to me.
"Don't worry, Nunnally. When I see Shirley at school tomorrow, I'll make it up to her. I'll apologize and eat all those cookies."
"Huhu, all right. I'll trust you, Brother. Now go wash up and have your dinner."
The tension left me at the sound of Nunnally's laughter. Yes, the reason I suffered through all of this was to protect this girl's smile. I hurried through my dinner and practically fled up to my room. Nunnally's persistent pressure to 'look after Shirley' had drained what little energy I had left.
"Sigh... I'm exhausted."
I tossed my coat onto the bed and walked over to my desk.
It was then that a plain white envelope sitting in the center of the desk caught my eye.
"What's this? Did Sayoko-san leave it here?"
I thought it might be an academy announcement or perhaps a resentful letter from Shirley. Without much thought, I sat down, picked up the envelope, and tore it open to reveal a single sheet of white paper.
"..."
The moment I read the content, my heart felt as if it had dropped into a bottomless pit.
[Who are you?]
"...!!"
That single sentence, written in elegant cursive, pierced my eyes like a sharpened awl.
My breath hitched, and a tremor that started at my fingertips surged through my entire body. Cold sweat began to pour down my back like rain.
'This... what is this...?'
With trembling eyes, I checked the bottom of the letter. There, an even more chilling postscript was written.
[P.S. From a fan who loves Lelouch vi Britannia.]
"Aaaagh!"
An involuntary cry escaped me as I hurled the letter to the floor.
"Gasp... wheeze..."
Terror rolled over me like a tsunami.
I've been found out. Someone knows I am not the real Lelouch. Someone knows I am an intruder—a transmigrator.
'Who? Who could it be? Since when?'
C.C.? No, she hasn't even appeared before me yet. Emperor Charles? V.V.? If it were them, they wouldn't play games with a letter. They would have kidnapped or killed me instantly.
Then who? Could there be another transmigrator in this world besides myself?
"Sayoko! Sayoko-san!"
I burst through my door and sprinted down the stairs, nearly tumbling. Sayoko-san, who was tidying up the first floor, looked up in alarm.
"Master Lelouch? What's wrong? I heard a scream..."
"The letter! The letter on my desk! Who put it there!"
My bloodshot eyes and pale complexion left Sayoko-san visibly shaken.
"Ah, that letter... It was in the mailbox this afternoon, so I brought it up. It had Master Lelouch's name on it..."
"Did you see who put it there?! Did you see who they were!"
I grabbed her shoulders, my usual composure having vanished entirely.
"I-I am sorry. I didn't see anyone. It was already there when I went to collect the mail."
"Dammit!"
Spitting out a curse, I ran toward the clubhouse's security room.
"CCTV! I need to see the CCTV footage!"
"Master Lelouch! Please, calm down! What on earth was in that letter?!"
Sayoko-san called after me, but I was deaf to her voice. My only thought was finding the culprit. Reaching the security room, I forced my way into the security system. With trembling fingers, I hammered at the keyboard to bring up the footage for the entrance mailboxes.
"Please... please let them be on camera..."
I played the afternoon footage at quadruple speed. I saw the mailman and Student Council members pass by. And then...
"...Nothing."
No matter how many times I replayed it, there was no one suspicious. The only one who had placed anything in the mail was the academy's dedicated postal worker, who came every day. This meant that the cursed letter had been slipped into the standard pile of mail.
"How can this be..."
Strength left my legs, and I sank into the chair. There was no postmark, no return address. Just my name. This was a warning explicitly sent using the postal system to ensure it reached me.
'Who? Who could it be?'
My mind went white. Nunnally, the Black Knights, Jeremiah, and my own identity—everything felt precarious. I stared blankly at the monitor, then pulled the crumpled letter from my pocket once more.
[Who are you?]
This short sentence was choking the life out of me, feeling heavier than even Emperor Charles's Ragnarök Connection.