Chapter 38: Through The Seething and Solicitous Dark

He stepped forward and immediately felt the corrosive bite into his foot. He could still feel his foot, but it felt like the stuff had already pierced his bone. Still, it wasn't as…painful as he expected, so he took another step, and then another. Waving further into it, he had to bite his tongue to keep from making a pained whine or distressing yelp as he forced himself further.

As he went, the sakuradite's levels rose. First, it was just his ankles, then his shins, then knee-deep, until now, when he stood at the very centre of it, it was only waist-deep.

"Okay, so what-!" Whatever he would ask would never be spoken, as the poor shuddered. The sakuradite flashed a deep, ominous red, a pink geass mark forming across its surface with him at the centre, before he was pulled under, leaving an undisturbed surface.

Watching dispassionately, Kirihara didn't move or flinch as the boy was dragged below the liquid's surface. He had called it a test, a means to gain greater power, and it was. But what he had purposely kept was that each person who experienced it, each who came out alive with such varying experiences and memories, all claimed the same thing:

It was agonising hell that pushed them to their mental, spiritual, and physical breaking points, and even further still. Perhaps it was cruel of him not to mention this, but he believed it was a good investment.

“It’s all on you, boy…don’t let the beast take you.” Was all Kirihara said as he prepared for the long haul, same as his masked attendants.

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 Beneath the surface, Lelouch thrashed about in absolute pain. It was like his Geass-granted resistance had just been shut off. Now the sakuradite around him was consuming him, like thousands of piranhas feasting on a dead cow, biting, ripping, and wiggling as they tore off tiny pieces of him.

It was so great a pain, so mind-bending that he let out a scream. Still, while sound did not escape, the sakuradite was able to flood his open mouth, quickly following through his nose, unleashing liquid hell on his insides. Desperately, he fought to keep his eyes closed. Still, he could feel it, almost like a sizzling sensation as his eyelids were consumed, and he knew, he just knew he had to get out and get out fast.

But no matter how much he kicked, and swam, how hard he fought to reach the surface, he was only pulled ever deeper into the glowing pink abyss, oxygen deprivation started to set in, but even if he made it to the surface, the liquid had already corroded its way down his oesophagus and trachea, burning, melting and tearing apart everything in its way, including his lungs.

Gasping and growing weaker from all of it, Lelouch lost his sense of place; he grew confused and tired, too much to recall which way was up anymore, or why he was even fighting to begin when he could just close his eyes…to rest. When was the last time he was able to rest? To truly rest? No responsibility, no burdens, no pain, no voices, no nightmares...wouldn't…wouldn't that be nice?

Weakly shaking his head, Lelouch gathered as much of his dwindling strength as he could and reinforced it with his sheer will. He had to keep awake; he had to keep his geass active. He didn't know why, but something told him he had to, and for this, as if he didn't, then he would need to accept this as his fate, as to where his journey ended.

Such a thought of dying in some cavern, his goals unfulfilled, his father still drawing breath, Britannia left spoke to his spirit, and from its depths, fury came roaring out, palpable and near as thick as the sludge he was bathed in.

He refused to die here like some unwanted dog, a useless mutt who couldn't achieve anything. His fury backing his will, he fought harder, so much harder than before. He couldn't recall which way was up or safe, but when had he truly felt safe? When was the last time he could truly rest easy? All he could do was what he had been doing for years now: keep moving, fighting, and marching forward, even if he couldn't say what lay beyond the next wall he would ascend or smash through.

Then, not a single voice, but what seemed like hundreds, maybe thousands, of them spoke all around him. And yet, despite their number, they spoke as one.

"You passed the first test."

Line Break

Blinking as he looked towards the fog-torn sky, Lelouch needed a moment to collect himself. When he did, he realized he could see again that he wasn't in that damned hell bath.

Getting up, he also realised that despite the agony he had been through, he was only feeling mild phantom pains now, despite what should have been a body covered in horrible, permanent, debilitating wounds.

As more of his mind restarted, he moved on from his apparent healthy body to the fact that he could see the sky. Hadn't he been underground a moment ago? Slowly, he got up from where he had been lying on the ground, working his way to his feet. He looked around and could say he had no clue where he was.

"Is this Mt. Fuji?" He asked, looking around as he noted the dense fog, which made seeing anything further than a few meters impossible. Still, he could see trees lining the path, dense greenery which would make spotting anything through the brush difficult on the best of days, while he had been lying, now standing on a stone-paved mountain path. To the side where he had been left…or taken, or…he didn't know, all he knew was that where he had been lying moments prior, to the side of that and on the side of the path were 2 statues, one of a dog and the other a crow.

Inspecting both, the dog statue was posed with its right paw resting on a black stone sphere, its mouth open with teeth on full display. The crow statue was one that had just taken off. In its beak, it held what looked to be a stick, a tool it planned to use, or perhaps something for its nest.

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"Welcome," Lelouch quickly turned his whole body toward this new voice. You managed to cross the first bridge, rare among humans."

The speaker was a pale, cool-feathered woman with sharp, straight black bob fading into a pale pink at the tips. She watched with impassive and impartial narrow red eyes, an unreadable expression on her otherwise incredibly beautiful face. She was slim and tall, almost as tall as he was, though it could be because of her red-heeled thigh-high boots. Aside from that, she wore a flowing black top with long, billowing sleeves and trailing ribbons around her waist.

His eyes caught the deep red trim on her top. While such a low neckline exposed more of her smooth, soft shoulders and the tops of her well-endowed bosom, the shape and choice of red in that neckline resembled the mark of geass.

That, along with the fact that she seemed to glow, made it clear that she was no human; she wasn't even like C.C.

"You are correct." Her statement, a response to his thoughts, put him on high alert, yet she hardly seemed bothered by how agitated he was. "I am not human; I never was."

"Then what are you?" Lelouch asked, hardly caring that he still had a functional voice box after nearly drowning in sakuradite.

“That is not something that can easily be answered, Lelouch vi Britannia." Lelouch frowned at her statement, leaving him wondering if perhaps this was a representation or aspect of the pool of sakuradite he jumped into.

"I am neither of those things." Again, she read his mind, her tone at least similar to how C.C. sounded daily. "As I was never human, I am nobody. In fact, to humans, I don't even exist. My existence is tied to those who can see me."

"What I am…Well, I suppose for a man of the Bible like you," she smiled at that little jab. You could say I am, that we are servants of God." However, his face remained sceptical, unmoved by her words, which she called out.

"You don't seem all that amused or in awe of meeting a servant of God?" Lelouch scoffed at the notion. He would give her this; she wasn't human, but he wouldn't just jump to believing her words.

“I doubt that one would appear like you.” He replied.

“Were you expecting a multi-winged eyeball, or perhaps someone prettier?” She sent a coy smile his way, pushing her chest out just a little, though his gaze remained on her face, which only intrigued her more.

"If you can read minds, you already know my thoughts on that, " he replied, to which she nodded as she turned to walk towards him, her heels clicking against the stone with each gentle step.

"I do, but for the record, I can't read minds. Rather, this realm of your challenge just makes it so that thoughts might as well be speech. After all, I have not moved my lips this entire time." Getting close, she saw him just realizing that, and wondering how he hadn’t noticed.

She added to that when she placed a dainty, soft finger on his lips—lips that had remained shut since he first woke. "Also, I can't say I'm flattered by your opinions of this form, for I have no true form and merely took this one for convenience’s sake.”

"I was not lying about my description of myself, but we digress." She changed the topic, but remained close to him, grasping at his face and looking deep into his eyes. "Part of why I approached you now was my interest, as you're an oddity.”

Yes, Lelouch figured that would be something she would bring up. Kirihara and he had already discussed how he was the first foreigner to attempt this, and for him to be of Britannian royalty, well, whoever this woman was, she seemed intrigued by that—enough to hold on to killing him outright, at least.

Caretaker of Spacetime was amused by his thought. Hadn't she told him she was not some aspect of the pool? She wasn't so limited as to be tied to a single place, time, or people. She didn't carry any ill will towards him for his royal bloodline, nor did she particularly care for the plight of humanity.

No, she was more intrigued by who his parents were. “You, the son of Charles zi Britannia and Marriane vi Britannia. The man who unleashed suffering, slavery, torment, and death on the world, and the selfish woman who put that monster on the throne.”

“Do NOT,” Lelouch hissed, his eyes bursting with rage at her words. “Insult my mother.”

She wasn't moved by his anger; if anything, she was amused to see him express it. "It's a fact, or did you believe a woman like her could be a saint? That she didn't fight, didn't kill for your father, for her husband and love?"

Lelouch didn't speak, as it wasn't like he hadn't thought about it already. He hadn't wondered how much his mother truly knew about his father or how much she believed in his ideals as she fought and killed for them. His mysterious host didn't give him time to organise the complicated and multi-faceted issue that was his feelings about his mother's loyalty and actions.

She continued. "You came here to gain greater power from geass, so that you may bring fire and destruction into your enemies like the good war beast you are." She finally let go of him and walked further back. She sounded…different, though. Almost resigned and was bitter at her words about him. Her tone shifted back in an instant. "But I don't believe humanity should have even fragments of geass, you're a defective species who've abused the power, like you do other powers to hurt one another, to hurt the earth, and even dare raise your hand against the heavens."

Lelouch was…unsure what to make of that statement. He had already heard such talking points before, in books and in debates, though in both cases, they were often framed in a way that implied only Britannia should have power, as their' God-given right and privilege' as the masters of the Earth.

Still, what did she mean by the last part? Raising a hand against the heavens? Was it something that happened in the past, or was it already happening? And by whose hand?

She might hear his thoughts as he did hers, but she wasn’t forthcoming on details. "But while I believe you shouldn't be able to touch such power, never mind use it, it's not for me to decide." Instead, she pointed up the stone path, Lelouch following her finger and seeing an ice-capped mountain top through the fog and clouds. "Meet me at the mountain's summit by sunrise tomorrow, and you will gain this greater power. Fail, and you'll be slaughtered by the mountain and its beasts."

With that, she vanished, as if she had never been there.

“Wait, hold on, you can't leave me with so little-!" Lelouch walked up to where she had been standing, only to throw himself back at the last moment. A wise move as the fog cleared enough to reveal that where she had been ‘standing’ was nothing but air, the path he had been standing in just cut off, like someone had taken a giant blade to a real mountain path and cut off what he needed.

Looking over the edge, he couldn't see anything, for the fog also covered it. Picking up a stone, he dropped it and waited to hear it hit something. Still, after a solid minute of silence, he just pulled back from the edge and looked in the other direction, the one he had been told to take. "Well, isn't that fitting? There is no way but the path ahead, with whatever monsters and tests it hides."

Feeling the breeze on his body, he came to another realisation: he was still nude.

Taking a breath, he had to keep calm. “And of course, I’m not properly dressed.”

Line Break

Ignoring his nudity, Lelouch continued to walk up the mountain path for what felt like hours now, and yet, he was getting nowhere; the only upside to such was that he didn't feel the same drain he otherwise would from such a long trek, with a notably inclined path at that. He wondered if this was all in his head, some sort of powerful out-of-body experience, or perhaps it was something else.

Regardless, he hadn't seen any beasts the spirit warned him about. However, he had kept his wits about him, listening and looking for anything to attack him.

Such vigilance rewarded him, as he heard it before he saw it: a crow's caw through the foggy blanket. Turning to the side, to the part of this portion of the trek that seemed to hug the mountain's side, he saw a massive crow flying towards him. He was momentarily stunned that such a beast could exist, as it was easily twice the size of his ravens, and both were already unusually large specimens.

His stupor didn't last long as he jumped forward, evading the corvid's first swoop, but he saw how unnatural its movements were. It didn't crash into the thick brush of the treeline, nor did pull up and come in for another attack, instead it seemed to ignore the concept of physics and momentum, flipping towards its side, its wings and body contorted, all to put him back into its sights with no time to act as it went for his face, his beck, shining like darkened steel, thrust for him and in a instant, his vision went dark in one eye.

"Crap!" Lelouch hissed as he fought against the giant bird, blood flowing down his face before with a second peck which just barely missed his other eye, the corvid backed off, vanishing into the mist as Lelouch was left, kneeling over in pain as he felt up his face, covered in scratches and dirt, it was salvageable.

His left eye was lost to him, not only could he feel the terrible pain of the eyeball having been pocked, pierced and shredded by that stupid bird, but with his face facing the stone paved busy path, he could spot out of the corner of his limited vision, the remains of his eyeball hanging out the socket by a thread, swinging in the breeze.

Taking such damage and seeing the results of it would get to anyone, but he didn't feel panic or fear. He felt anger. Fury that some overgrown corvid thought it could dare injure him like this. Through that rage, he spotted a rock to the side of the road.

As the corvid came around for another strike, no doubt aiming to fully blind him, Lelouch hatched a plan and grabbed the rock, keeping his back to the bird. He used his hearing to keep a semi-accurate picture of it as it dived towards him. He only had one shot and a small window, as he needed it to get close. He needed to believe it had him, else it would just contort and twist out of the way.

His time came, and when he could hear it was mere moments from striking, he turned as quick as he could, presenting his wounded face, one eye gone but the other focused and furious. He locked onto the crow and threw the rock as hard as possible. The bird let out a surprised caw, as it had no time to react before the rock, the size of Lelouch's fist, crashed into its chest, breaking several ribs.

The impact of the rock didn’t just end there, as the momentum behind it wasn’t so easily disregarded as it carried through, sending the now critically injured bird crashing into the path, breaking more bones. Lelouch, not about to give it a chance to surprise him, rushed for the downed bird, grabbing it by its neck. It only had time to look at him before he twisted his grip and jerked his hand, a snapping sound echoing through the quiet path.

Lelouch, feeling out of breath, kept his gaze on the bird's dead body, looking for any surprises. When he got none, he fell over on his side, trying to regain some air in his lungs and fight through the pain of having lost an eye. He had no means to tend to his wound, but he couldn't let it stop him; he just had to gather his strength, get up, and keep moving. But for his life, he couldn't move; his body seemed to be drained of vitality after that one encounter.

As he wondered what could be keeping him from moving, the crow’s body started glowing a faint red. Lelouch found he was drawn to the sight of it, and with his one eye, he gazed at it, seeing something…he couldn't describe but felt familiar and unknown to him, hot and yet cold.

Suddenly, the crow's head snapped in his direction, its broken neck not stopping it as its beak opened. Words poured out from it, a whisper that seemed to be spoken directly in his ear. With a tone that was both imitated and dangerous, he heard it speak.

“Let my sight replace the sight it stole." It earnestly urged him. Hearing that, he would have thought it insane, but he still followed its plea. Having gained strength in his limbs once more, he crawled closer to its head to pluck out its eye.

He touched its body as he wondered how he would even get its eye out without damaging it, or how it would fix up his own. At that touch, the dead crow's form lost colour and form, collapsing into a swirling mass of blood which then shot for his near vacant eye socket.

Once again, Lelouch was hit with an intense, piercing agony as this viscous blood-like liquid swirling and contorted into his eye socket, Lelouch feeling it getting deeper as more of it entered till it felt like it was working its way through the nerve into his brain.

Lelouch fell to the ground, rolling in torment, only to black out. As he lost consciousness yet again, he could hear something familiar. He could hear the doorman announcing his presence at court. As he developed a cold sweat and twisted and turned on the cold stone path, Lelouch recalled what he felt that day.

That day, when he requested an audience with his father, he felt many things. Surprise that his request had been approved; trepidation about how he would carry himself before the royal court; grief over the passing of his mother in a hail of bullets; sorrow in knowing his sister had been collateral and for it, had lost her sight and ability to so much as stand on her own two legs.

All that paled as fear overrode it all. His father dismissed all of it as unimportant, as the mountain of a man revealed he didn't care, and for daring to speak against him, to challenge the emperor, he would be exiled. And yet, he now found himself as just another face in the audience watching it, seeing things from another perspective, one that allowed him to see more of things.

"That day… I was afraid. Just a pampered child with no companions to call my own, no loyal standard-bearers beneath my banner. A boy cast into the viper's den. And when I beheld the lion's roar — not its strength, but its indifference to our suffering, its wrath that could so effortlessly consume us- I felt my fear die. Not just of him… but of the court. Of Britannia itself.”

Lelouch of the present watched Lelouch of the path and saw how his face twisted into something ugly, something dangerous, which caught even the emperor off guard. Present Lelouch hardly took any amusement in seeing his father caught off guard. Instead, he looked to his shadow, noting how it twisted, bent, and bubbled as if something was within it.

“In its place, something far more corrosive took root. It settled in my chest like molten lead — scalding, yet cold enough to still the blood in my veins. That was the day the seed of hatred was sown within me. And it has never ceased to grow.” Both versions of him hated his father; they hated the court, the nobility, and Britannia itself.

In his hate, he wished to lash out, but his past self couldn't. But his anger, his wrath, was like him: young, immature, and weak. It would need time, growth, and action before it could act.

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As he came to yet again, Lelouch found that he was sweaty and still breathless. Having returned from his trip down memory lane, he moved to get back up, only to notice that his vision was back to normal.

"Not normal," he quickly realised, "but better." It was only with his newly gained left eye, but he could see the area much clearer now. The fog didn't seem to extend nearly as close, either.

Looking around, he spotted a sign to the side of the road, one that wasn't there before. Wondering about it, he tested something. He closed his left eye and saw the sign vanish from view. Opening it up, it reappeared. When he closed his right eye, it remained present. It certainly had a physical presence as he could approach it and lay a hand on it. Still, when he closed his left eye again, even with his right open, he couldn't feel anything there.

"So this could only have been seen by the crow…and now me." Lelouch theorised, as it certainly had its applications, but his attention shifted lower as he spotted something beneath the sign. A pair of flintlock pistols?

“They don’t look like any flint locks I’ve seen…” Lelouch mused. Compared with the polished, single-lock flint locks favoured by the wealthy, which Lelouch has seen many times in frames and paintings, the variant of the concept was noticeably more mechanical and compact, dare he say modern and practical.

Grasping it in his hand, as when he first gained his geass, he just knew more about it, the man was amazed to realise that its seemingly overcomplicated design was not for fun, but because, unlike many of its brethren, this was a repeating flintlock with 5 good shots before it would need a reload. The part of its side was its lock indexes or slides to fire sequential, superposed charges; all one needed was to pull back the firing slide to the shot you wanted, cock, and you were ready.

Feeling connected to both weapons, Lelouch decided to take them with him. He had no holster, but he could happily hold them both out, as it assured him two shots before he would need to worry. He also noted that they seemed brighter than they had been.

'If I arrived here early morning, it could be approaching midday, if not already past it by now.' He guessed, which meant he had the day and the entire night to complete the trek, which seemed like too little time, but he could only make the attempt and try to shave off time doing pointless things.

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With no clock or means to track the sun as it travelled through the sky, Lelouch had been forced to count the seconds as he moved while keeping his guard up. He might be armed and could see better than before, but it taught him the painful lesson of how pride came before the fall. His trip down memory lane only cemented that fact as it had been his error to bank on pride, which got him and Nunnally exiled, his pride of a prince slighted, driving him forward under the delusion his father's pride would similarly demand he act.

Errors he couldn't afford to make here, while it happened once; he couldn't count on gaining another eye should a crow or other bird take his other eye.

After around 2 hours of walking, he saw movement up ahead. Slowing, he moved into the brush to the side of the path to remain hidden as he approached. As quietly as possible, he moved through the brush, lucky that by this being a mountain and approaching from below, that he was downwind…did this place work like that?

Either way, he wasn't spotted and wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. As he grew closer, his left eye managed to make out more details while his right eye was just starting to see a shape in the fog, and he had no idea what to make of it. It looked like a Doberman, but it also looked like a Grey Wolf. But it was definitely big, much like the crow had been incredibly large for its species, this one had to be at half the size of a brown bear.

Seeing that he would be the one to make the first move, he decided to take the first shot. Slowly, he moved his outstretched hand out of the bushes, leaving nothing in the way of him, and his prey before he took aim. His weapon wasn't a regular flintlock, but he knew enough about the weapon type to know that accuracy wasn't great. So, he aimed centre mass, having his other ready should the wolf beast charge.

There was a snack and a loud crack as he pulled the trigger, sending a lead musket ball down range, only for Lelouch's newly gained eye to see in real time that the shot bounced off the beast's hide, doing nothing more than alerting it to his presence.

Lelouch held back the curse at his weapon's non-penetration as the wolf jumped around, its maws foaming. Its red eyes held nothing but malice as it released a furious bark and charged him. Having seen his first shot to nothing but anger it, Lelouch was forced into a high stakes game of cat and mouse, or fox and dog as the beast barked and howled after him, it's but not slowing it in the slightest and unlike the common belief of dogs being clumsy, this was agile, quick to adapt and keeping him on his toes.

"If you're hide's too thick, then let's see your eye," Lelouch risked it getting close enough that he could see the red of his gums as he levelled his other gun and fired, this time drawing blood as the lead ball tore out its right eye, the beast letting out a scream. Still, instead of flinching or backing off, this seemed to further engage it.

He had just felt his second let out a vibration, a signal that it had shifted to allow him to fire a second shot from it, when the wolf swung its rear out at him, blinding him momentarily with its busy tail.

Using the distraction, it lunged at him, the rebel having just enough time to raise an arm to defend his chest and neck, an arm which the wolf bit onto hard, the force tearing into his flesh and shattering his bones. Unlike with the eye, Lelouch was just barely able to keep the scream in. Still, the beast wrestled him to the ground using its superior size and strength, where it continued to try to tear his throat out or rough up his face.

He forced himself through the pain to keep his arm up, even as his blood was sent splattering all over the place as it ripped, tore and jostled his limb, at one point he felt it pop out the socket, forcing him to use his other hand to hold like a gag, keeping the beast’s jaws and teeth from his throat.

Just like before, he felt fury burn in his chest. So, what's this massive wolf? Was he about to let it kill him? Did he survive exile, isolation, and a warzone just to die to a beast, naked on some mountain like a caveman?

He refused that fate, and through his limb being torn to pieces, he made sure his other weapon was loaded. Much like the bird, it was a matter of timing. If he messed up, it was over, but he was someone well-versed in gambles.

Despite the situation, he gave a livid smirk, filled with contempt toward his would-be killer. "You losing the eye proves it's just the hide I gotta look out for," he taunted it as he relaxed, letting go of his useless arm, which the wolf spat to the side, about to taste victory.

Too bad for him, when he had let go of his, he grasped the pistol it still held in his good arm, and jammed the steel barrel as deep into the damned wolf’s mouth as he could go.

“Taste lead,” Lelouch finished it by pulling the trigger, firing off a shot clean through its mouth and into its brain. He watched its eye shoot up, before it fell limp against him with a final whine.

Not taking chances, as soon as he could feel his gun shift the firing mechanism back, he fired again, and then again. It was only with the third shot that he finally pulled his slobber and blood-soaked gun out and just lay there.

He felt exhausted, but not nearly as much as before. If anything, he felt sweet victory as here he was, nude and with nothing but two pistols, he took down this beast.

But it wasn’t a victory without sacrifice as he looked to the side, his right arm was a lost cause, his flesh was torn and ripped away, blood was still pouring out of it, while he could see at least 3 spots where bone was sticking out. Even if he had a first-rate hospital, it’ll be a stretch to say he would be able to use the limb again, much less fight.

The wolf's body started glowing the same faint red in a repeat of the crow. Unlike the crow, the beast stood up, turning to face him with its one good eye. Its voice wasn't a whisper, but a childish-like request, soaked in innocence and joy, which didn't fit with the body.

“My hide is yours. I’ve bitten deep — let this guard the wound I made.” Lelouch hardly focused on how weird it was for a child’s voice to speak with such maturity. He merely followed with it, laying a hand on its glowing head.

This time, he knew what to expect and grit his teeth as it lost its form once more as its essence and blood jumped for his ruined arm, entering his body with as much grace as a bull in a chine shop, jostling about already broken bones as it stitched together the damage, leaving him grinding his teeth as he fought to keep the screams in, but just like the first time, he lost consciousness.

What lured him into the focus of the next memory trip was the beeping, that familiar, terrible, and yet desperately sought-after beeping.

It was the sound of Nunnally's medical equipment, his precious baby sister lying still in a hospital bed, deathly pale with breaths so faint, each time she breathed, he feared it would be the last. He could never forget that experience of wanting to help, wave some ward, make some pact with a demon, even bow and kiss his father's boots, if not to heal her wounds, but to trade places with her.

Once more, through the deep grief and sorrow, he could recall the fury that burned him at how the court had reacted. He had been visiting his sister after his disastrous audience with his bastard of a father, and now the nobility didn’t care to whisper their glee over his mother’s passing, seeing the emperor’s apathy to her assassination as the man coming to his senses, some daring to suggest he was happy she was dead, and how this exile was him removing bad blood from the royal family.

That glee turned into paranoia as they quickly realised that if his mother could be slain in her own home, and the emperor could not even care to investigate, what was stopping their enemies from doing them in?

Once more, he watched from the corner, an invisible, intangible observer, as his shadow seemed to extend, growing darker, twisting as its bubbling surface grew more intense, as his rage in that moment only festered. How soon the papers talked about his mother's demise as such a tragedy that the whole of Pendragon seemed to be in mourning. He had burned one such paper that claimed such, as he knew the truth, and he damn well knew they knew it as well.

No one cared, and they weren't mourning. They were hiding away like cowards, terrified that they could be next, and yet unwilling to change, to address why they would have animals, like fat pigs, unwilling to leave their food.

Line Break

Waking up again, Lelouch hardly noticed how sore he felt as he raised his arm, seeing that it had healed. It felt…stronger. Enough so that he could press his hand to the ground and effortlessly pick himself up.

Just like the first time, he saw something of the size, what seemed to be a mask made from the hide and bone of the wolf's skull. Not bothering to test it when time was short, he picked it up and put it on. Breathing through it, he found that his sense of smell was so much stronger, giving him access to an entirely new and vibrant world of smells.

It would be another boon that served him well.

"I should get going." Without a second thought, Lelouch continued, it was approaching what felt like afternoon, and he still had a long way to go.

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And we're back, and I gotta tell you, that the chapter was a bit tricky to write as I had conflicting ideas going back to when I first planned this chapter months ago. However, after thinking about it, and editing out an entire section of it, I realised that I should do it along the lines that you'll read. Of course, the first part was stuff that should have been in the last chapter, but it was cut to maintain word count and get it uploaded on time.