Upsetting Plans and Other Pastimes, a Muv Luv/Code Geass crossover.

Hi everyone, first thread. This is cross posted from Spacebattles, because I forgot why I left the site behind, and then I remembered how much of an idiot I am. You can find this chapter there, but this will be the only one I'll be updating. I don't own either franchise (obviously), so without further ado.

XXX​

Major Matthias Bindl was having one of 'those' days.

He heard of the concept as a boy, of events that could be considered good or bad, but their defining trait was simply of their overwhelming bizarreness. Leaving behind his small town in rural Bavaria and joining the Bundeswehr hadn't buried the idea, far from it; everybody always said war is hell, but nobody ever told him war could get really weird. For a man of forty, he was sure he had seen more than his fair share of strangeness.

From the hatch of his Leopard-3 MBT, he wore a professional mask while observing perhaps the most unusual sight he could imagine: a line of meandering men and machines, watched carefully by rows upon rows of hateful yet disturbed soldiers. They were forces of the Holy Britannian Empire, invaders and conquerors, now marching into captivity. Just twenty meters from his position was the enemy of his nation, and he was prohibited from firing on them. Prisoners were to be treated humanely according to the laws of war. Even if they were surrendering on foreign soil, after delivering a declaration of war precisely one minute before their troops made landfall, regularly shelled civilian towns, destroyed moments and churches for fun, drove out refugees once they stole everything of value-

Bindl clenched his fist. Now wasn't the time to get angry; his men needed him as an example to strive towards, the fleeing civilians needed his soldiers to stay calm in the face of danger, and Command would have his ass if he snapped. Exhaling, he swept his gaze towards the stubby buildings of this suburb, once again mentally going over his preparations. And not keep focusing on the procession.

A mental map of anti-tank traps, ammo dumps, fuel and energy cell caches, medical stockpiles, and of course his unit's positions took up his attention for a blessed moment. The 157th Panzergrenadier brigade was spread thin on Yekaterinburg's outskirts, but with the help of Danish engineers and some cheerful, if somewhat lazy Italian Bersaglieri, his own battalion was dug in fairly well. Glancing away from the prisoners, he peered eastwards, towards the defense lines not so far away. The overcast sky kept the daylight glare to an acceptable minimum, permitting a decent view even without binoculars. What greeted his eyes was panorama of piled earthworks, infantry dugouts, concealed armor, and defensively oriented Panzer-hummels from many nations, who would hold on the suburb's outskirts, and then steadily retreat into traps and fire points to wear down the attackers. Euro artillery was spread out to maximize survivability, while Russian AAA systems (which proved themselves time and again) would keep Britannian air power behaved. Civilians were evacuated a week ago, although the inner city still had a few holdouts who either couldn't or wouldn't leave.

Privately he wondered if it would be enough, recalling the shockingly rapid conquest of Novosibirsk. Then Bindl chided himself; while the Russian army was certainly brave, their commanders hadn't taken the lessons of Japan's conquest to heart, downplaying the threat Knightmares posed. His plan of denying their mobility via traps and using obscene amounts of explosives should work better, so he hoped anyway. There was a million strong army massing just fifty kilometers away, a force that weeks prior swatted aside a European Corps after surging across half of Asia, so his optimism was strained.

It crossed his mind that letting the prisoners see their defenses up close was a bad idea, but Command's orders, specifically Generals Guderian and Zhukov (located in the city center instead of faraway Ufa) were explicit. The forward lines let this unit through, and he was to make sure they stayed docile until they reached holding areas in the city proper. With luck, their presence would deter wanton air strikes.

What few there were, he thought. Since that weird electrical storm four days ago, the near constant probing attacks had ceased. Recon flights likewise stopped, replaced by the distant rumble of battle in the army's direction. The Major assumed another battlegroup attacked the Britannians, but why hadn't he been told about it?

"Herr Major!" went a harried voice from beside his tank, making him snap over; it was a Lieutenant by his pipings, a rather young man by his bitter standards. He guessed the boy was a replacement, something the whole brigade was plagued by for the last six months.

"What is it?" the Major questioned, focusing on the Lieutenant exclusively.

"Sir, the Britannian commander wishes to speak to you. He claims it's urgent." he replied immediately.

Grimacing, Major Bindl nodded. "Lead the way."

"Jawohl."

Once the Lieutenant backed away, the Major climbed out of the hatch to jump over. His landing on soft ground that was a public park not so long ago was a bit rough, thanks to his injured foot (a reminder of his last battle), but fortunately none of his men were paying attention. Not that he blamed them. Once he straightened himself into a vaguely dignified pose, he waved for the boy to lead.

Walking perpendicular to the dirt road, the Major kept stealing aside glances despite himself. The soldiers filing into his zone were a sorry sight compared to the last time he met them in battle; once tall and proud, the black-grey armored soldiers hung their heads low, only looking up to see where they were going. They shuffled forward in an incoherent trundle instead of truly marching, looking and acting utterly exhausted. Only a handful he saw still luged weapons, nothing larger than a rifle at that. A few rumbling Britannian trucks and handfuls of stolen civilian vehicles carried the wounded, their wails of anguish utterly heartbreaking. Seeing one truck pass carrying a half dozen crippled soldiers openly crying-no, bawling like newborns, lacking any mind for the watching Euros, caused Bindl to reach for his necklace cross. For as much as he hated the Britannians, he couldn't muster the cruelty to not pity those men.

Joining the parade of tears were a handful of Knightmares, Sutherland models, and the sight of those awed him in ways he didn't like. Unlike the infantry, not one machine was undamaged; missing arms and heads, armor was dented and twisted, paint either blackened beyond recognition or outright burned away, the Knightmares were in a sorry state. Their pilots kept their hatches open while they drove as directed, and several patrolling Panzer-Hummels ensured they didn't get any funny ideas. Not that they could in their condition, but it paid to be cautious.

One Knightmare overtook his turgid pace easily, emitting a grating screech of abused metal when it passed by. His sour look morphed into confusion when he glanced to his side; the machine was missing half of its torso, the sensor head, one arm a jagged stump, while the other was missing to the socket. The center looked to be torn open, wide enough for him to see its internals working. Its cockpit sported several giant gashes, letting him see inside the tiny space. All the while, a busted armor plate from its ruined leg ground against its drive system. He was stunned the Knightmare could even move.

A part of him was glad the mech left as quickly as it arrived, but looking at the torso again made him distinctly uneasy. How the damage looked like a ring, and the edges were splintered, as if a saw went to them. Or like something bit off a chunk...

Major Bindl almost didn't see the Lieutenant halting, catching himself just in time. Taking one last second to straighten his posture, he laid eyes on his counterpart. Raw surprise filled him when he took in his appearance.

The Britannian, he couldn't have been older than twenty, sat on a stone bench with his elbows on his knees, glancing up when he heard Bindl's approach. A healthy tan joined his bright orange hair, disheveled and matted by grime, while various scuffs dotted his form. His red jumpsuit marked him as a Knightmare pilot, at least before it was torn wide open. He spied a long gash on his side, although a winding bandage took care of the wound. Two soldiers stood guard beside the bench, offering wordless salutes to his arrival.

When the Britannian lifted his head, Bindl was greeted by a twisted grin, and wide blazing eyes. He greeted him with a lazy wave, the arm shaking. "Yo."

"Français?" Bindl started perfunctorily.

"Wei wei." the boy replied, staggering off the bench with an overly loud groan. Bindl had a sinking feeling he'd been conned when the Britannian flopped towards him, still wearing that overly large smile. "Names Sir Ashley Ashra, of the Holy Order of Michael. At your service."

He stabbed a hand out, heedless of the guards flinching. Bindl reluctantly took the proffered hand and felt a nearly painful grip before he let go.

"Major Matthias Bindl of the German State Army." he replied calmly when the boy smirked at him.

"Fancy." he grinned.

Disliking the boy's attitude, Bindl pressed on ahead. "I presume it was your order to surrender?"

"Nope, but I wasn't gonna argue." Ashra replied; his accent was horrible, but the Major wasn't going to speak english if he could help it. "You can blame Sir Manfredi for that, if you can find him."

Narrowing his eyes, Bindl turned to the obvious. "Why did you want to speak with me?"

"Because I think we're done fighting each other." Ashra shrugged.

"What do you mean?" he questioned.

"All these years, I thought our Empire was the strongest thing on Earth. Nothing could beat us." Ashra bent forward, a rumbling laugh building in his throat. "We were wrong."

Just as the last of the Major raised a brow, a commotion from the procession reached his ears.

One Britannian stopped matching with the rest, breaking off to gaze towards the sky. Although his armor was busted, he appeared physically alright, if exhausted like the rest of his comrades. He was giggling madly with blazing eyes, while his stubbled expression split by a wide grin. A couple wary soldiers approached him with weapons raised, but he didn't seem to notice. He just kept giggling, an unsettling sight to the observers. Until he drew his sidearm.

Bindl whipped around, a barking order on his lips. The closest men flinched back, already shouting at the man when their weapons jerked up. But the smiling soldier didn't seem to care. He just smiled, mouthing something incomprehensible as he peered to the cloudy sky.

In one smooth motion, the giggling Britannian stuck the pistol in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

Shocked, the Major let his jaw hang open when the man fell, his blood and brains splattering the asphalt. The Europeans reluctantly lowering their rifles, although they couldn't tear their eyes off him. But when his gaze flicked over, Bindl processed a harrowing sight; the other Britannians didn't react. A man just committed suicide right in front of a crowd, yet only a couple men even glanced in his direction. Their hollow expressions and tired shuffling kept on, paying no mind to the dead man.

"What in the hell…" Bindl murmured.

About the last thing the Major expected was a snicker from Ashra. Whipping around, he angrily saw the boy throwing his head back and laughing, a hearty bellow well suited to a party. Bindl twisted his features into a scowl.

"What's so funny? A man just died!" he snarled.

Ashra flopped his head forward with a wide grin, eyes blazing. "What, that guy? I wasn't laughing at him, at least he went out on his own terms."

"Then what?" Bindl snapped.

"What you said." Ashra quieted down some, looking him right in the eye. Despite himself Bindl swallowed a lump, feeling an uncomfortable pressure from such an intense stare. "Hell, that's it. You said what in the hell."

"So what?" he tried a sharp retort, but his tone came out more shaky than he wanted.

The boy's smile didn't charge, but a crazed look filtered into his gaze.

"Let me tell you something really simple Matty. We're done fighting each other, we all have to stop. Because trust me." Ashra's voice lowered an octave. "You know nothing of Hell."

Swallowing a lump, Major Bindl abruptly wondered if this war was going to get even stranger.

 

So, thanks to me being an idiot and forgetting about this thread, I haven't added to this thread in a while. Bummer. So here's an update.

xxx​

Central Yekaterinburg, the same day…

Deep inside a former law enforcement precinct, the Britannian VIP glanced up from his uncomfortable seat when the door swung open. The interrogation room was spotless and devoid of any escape avenues, so it was no surprise he was brought here after being taken into custody. What little he saw prior to entering the building told an interesting story: a bustle of soldiers flocking to and fro from humming machines, yelling and commanding for every second he witnessed. Russian paranoia was a legendary thing, but he saw the results paying off; this police station was built to double as a military command center, just like in Novisbirsk.

Pushing the observation aside, the blond man made an effort to straighten out his wrinkled robes when two men filed in, wearing EU field uniforms and sporting holstered sidearms. His chances of taking them down were quite low, and the odds of escaping past the rest of the base's guards hovered near zero. But he didn't move a muscle when the two soldiers glared at him. Only when two more entered did he straighten up, his sharp gaze noting interestedly how the men seemed to petrify.

"Généraux, bienvenue." he greeted, giving the well dressed old men a small curtsy. His formal outfit seemed ruffled in comparison to these men's crisp appearances, he suspected intentionally so. He only waited half an hour after arriving for them to visit however, a sign if he ever saw one.

So similar despite their many differences, the pair of gentlemen kept hard stares on the VIP. One wore the emblazoned blue and red dress uniform of the EU, while the other's dark brown outfit was dreadfully nondescript in comparison, with only the pipings distinguishing him from any other soldier. However, he could clearly see the steely determination in their wrinkly forms; men born of vastly different backgrounds, ascended the ranks with suspicion for the other side, and possibly long past their primes, but he knew underestimating these two would be a terrible mistake.

The first, one General Heinz Guderian, replied in french. "Prince Schneizel."

"A pleasure to meet an esteemed opponent in the flesh." greeted the Second Prince of Britannia, officially the third most important individual in the globe spanning empire, in reality a much closer second than anyone suspected.

"Not how you envisioned this meeting, is it?" the Russian general spoke in rough english, his features wrinkling in a harsh grin.

"Not exactly, General Georgi Zhukov." Schneizel addressed in french, offering the old man a kindly smile.

Upon discovering who was put in charge of Yekaterinburg's defense, Schneizel admitted to himself he expected a mess; two generals pulled out of retirement, from nations who were rivals not so long ago? A recipe for disaster on the EU's behalf, even worse than the sloppy response from the Vladivostok garrison and the local governor surrendering Novisbirsk. He was as surprised as anyone else in the command staff when the opposite occurred: expertly organized assaults and special forces raids delayed the Euro-Britannian advance by weeks, letting two very different armies fortify the easiest path through the Urals, turning a transport nexus into a well armed bastion. His prediction (and the reason he left Area 11 in a hurry) was that grinding through the city would potentially compromise the entire conquest.

Of course, that was before four days ago.

"Let me guess, Prime Minister." Zhukov continued in the Prince's native tongue. "You're here to negotiate our surrender, as you did for Novisbirsk?"

"Not at all. In fact, it is I who wishes to discuss terms of our capitulation." Schneizel's cool smile vanished. "I request only two things: that the Britannian soldiers in your custody are treated properly, and that I speak to your leadership as soon as possible. The Council of Forty to be specific."

"Why exactly do you need an audience?" Guderian inquired flatly, arms clasped behind his back.

"Because there's a reason your sworn enemies are surrendering en masse." Schneizel narrowed his gaze a minute degree. "You need our help, and for as much as I'm loath to admit it, we need yours."

"Hm, is this related to this battle you fought over the past couple days?" Zhukov kept the condescension in his tone (he was addressing an invader of his nation after all), but there was a sharp glint in his eyes; he was mystified at what seemed like an attack from the blue, and he wanted answers.

"Precisely." Devoid of inflection or emotion, his reply momentarily took him aback.

"I can contact Paris, but I'll need more to go on than some vague warning. Given your country's behavior for the past few years, you'll understand if I'm unwilling to take you at your word." the German explained, a hint of coldness in his voice. "For starters, what assault the Britannian army? And where is this enemy of yours located?"

Schneizel took a deep breath, flattening his hands on the tabletop. As a child he received a top quality Royal education meant to groom future Kings, as a teen he engaged with corporate leaders and politicians the world over, and as an adult he determined policies which affected billions. When his father, the Emperor Charles Zi Britannia, inevitably stepped down from his throne, he would be in the final runnings to succeed him. So when he met the General's eyes, Schneizel needed all of his accumulated willpower to stop himself from shaking.

"I'm afraid I have to correct one assumption of yours General Guderian. What attacked the Britannian army…" he paused; not to gain their attention or for any sense of theatrics, but to swallow a lump down his throat. "What we faced is an enemy of us all."

"Who was it?" Zhukov probed, unsmiling. Swiveling to his counterpart, he mouthed a Russian term he knew the German would understand: shell shock. "The Chinese? Kazakhstani? Rebel knights? Did you see their flags?"

Very slowly, Schneizel shook his head. "They weren't human. What those things were… they are monsters from the depths of Hades."

"Impossible." Guderian immediacy scoffed.

At that moment another soldier darted in, quickly bowing at the sour looks the Generals shot him, before leaning in close to whisper. What he mumbled caused both men to jerk up in surprise. The Prince could read the messenger's lips, but he didn't need to bother.

Clenching his shaking fists, Schneizel grunted. "You can tell for yourself sirs, after your army is devoured."

XXX​

"Say…"

Major Bindl moved three steps before Ashra spoke again, pausing mid stride to take a deep breath. Smoothing out his expression, he turned around once again to the young knight, who stood tall despite the soldier beside him producing handcuffs. Both men were tense, but they exchanged inquiring looks with the officer for directions.

"Yes?" he answered tightly. While a team arrived to pick up the body still lying in the street, he needed to ensure the news was passed up the chain, along with enacting a suicide watch for all POWs. Not to mention he still had his own battalion to look after.

"How important are you?" Ashra asked with a grin.

Bindl narrowed his gaze. "Why?"

"Need to make sure you guys are ready, it'll help if you use your clout. Can't really stand around and hope Schneizel convinces your bosses." he answered with a flippant wave.

The Major frowned at first, until realization dawned. His composure fractured for several long seconds, a serious breach of etiquette that normally left him mortified.

"Wait, Prince Schneizel was with your army?" he exclaimed, internally wincing at the odd looks both the guards and his Lieutenant companion gave hum.

"That's right. Rumor mill said he was gonna negotiate this city's surrender, lenient terms and all." Ashra shrugged nonchalantly. One guard cursing under his breath caused the young man to smile, but his cheer evaporated quickly as he stared down the older commander. "But seriously, you need to pass the word along. They're coming, and you have to be ready-"

Droning interrupted Ashra, a dull roar which grew louder by the second. Despite the unbound prisoner Bindl glanced skywards, catching sight of several black objects several hundred meters overhead. The momentary prickling on his skin vanished once he recognized the delta shaped outlines; four Aigles, the European military's primary fighter, were escorting what looked like a Tu-100 bomber over Yekaterinburg's defenders. Sweeping his head, he located several other squadrons on the same flight path.

A smile game to him unbidden, happy to see their own Air Force was still in the fight. He thought it was a little odd that they were flying so low, but with the surrendering Britannians he assumed the battle had turned around. Rolling his shoulders, he began mentally drafting an order to advance, balancing the checklist to achieve such an action with his eagerness to get started. Bindl turned to offer a wry comment to the prisoner, but one look at him and he was stopped cold: Ashra wasn't grinning anymore.

"What?" he questioned, motioning for the guard to apply handcuffs at last.

He regarded him with a cold look. "Your Generals don't know it, but they just killed those men."

A distant boom overcame the incessant engines, acting almost like punctuation for the Knight's statement. Snapping his head over, Bindl needed to blink repeatedly to assure himself of what he was seeing: there was a ball of fire plummeting to the ground where the flight was, the other aircraft banking away. Before he could speak the sky was lit up by multiple beams of white light, appearing and vanishing so much like lightning during a storm.

Precious seconds went by before he saw the fireballs raining down, where all the aircraft were moments ago.

"Secure that man!" Bindl barked as he jerked away, his face twisting into a snarl from his injured foot. But he had no time to listen to the pain or make sure Ashra was in chains, he needed to return to his command right away.

Hobbling away in an undignified sprint, he was peripherally aware of his surroundings coming to life. Awaiting EU soldiers sprang into action, running and shouting on their way to their positions, while turrets and vehicles and whatever else activated with a chorus of rumbling motors. Tanks and IFVs rolled into position, while stomping Panzer-Hummels shook the ground from every footfall on their path. Not far away was his Leopard-3 (a tool that cost him a hefty favor towards Requisitions), but it seemed so distant all of a sudden.

Ignoring the last of the Britannian prisoners fleeing (some were breaking down and screaming) clearing the area with more energy than he'd seen all day, he huffed in triumph when he reached his ride at last. A soldier paused to help him climb the sides, sprinting off the moment he was crawling up. The snarling Major didn't care at the moment; he squeezed himself into the hatch and fell into the appropriated tank, thumping right onto the commander's seat. The trio of occupants within glanced at him before turning to their tasks, only one remembering to toss his comm helmet. Just as he fitted the headpiece, the diesel engine roared to life.

Flicking the comms on, the Major barked to the crew. "Move out!"

Lurching forward, Bindl's head bumped against a panel when the Leo-3 surged ahead. But he didn't care, he was too busy checking his battalion's status and snapping out orders. Listening was difficult over the engines and the now buzzing chatter, from his units and an entire division's worth of soldiers going on alert: the radio was ablaze with shouts of French, Russian, Italian, and he was sure he heard somebody barking in Greek. But still he did his upmost to sort voices apart for his captains.

He was caught off guard when the Leo halted, his helmet smacking on another panel with a grunt of surprise. Groaning at his subordinate flashing a thumbs up, Bindl crawled up the small hatch, grimacing when he saw the top was still open; he admonished himself for forgetting something so basic. When his head poked out, he had to wince at another flash of light on the horizon.

Pre-made barriers and dugouts made up most of his surroundings, in front of rows of smaller apartments laden by oversized guns. To his flanks were other Leopards, European and Russian IFVs, and Panzer-Hummels moving into position. Infantry were immediately behind them, the men scrambling into defensive emplacements with as many heavy weapons as could be moved on foot. In front of his tank were narrow trails of passable ground between marked off fields, each open space filled with mines and razor wire. Beyond the panorama of death was the first defense line, primarily manned by Russian forces. Even from on top of his tank the ground was quaking from so many machines and men getting into position-

"Wait…" Bindl glanced downwards: despite his elevation he saw the gravel below, his blood running cold when he saw the loose stones vibrating from tremors. Experience told him they were impact tremors, but he never saw such a thing happen continuously, or way out here.

Squinting towards the horizon, he saw the distant clouds darkening ominously, and a growing haze reaching towards the sky. Like a herd of stampeding cattle, if such a herd numbered in the millions. A sinking feeling filled his gut when he realized the Britannians never fought this way. This wasn't them, this was…

Tapping his radio, he barked an order to his recon vehicle. "I need a UAV on that, stat."

"Negative Herr Major, drones are gone, over."

"Gone?" he all but growled into his radio.

"Ja, every drone we've deployed have been shot down. All units are reporting the same."

As if to underscore his reply, a new beam of light swept across the horizon. Although his eyes stung at the sight, Bindl forced himself to roughly track its location: distance was an estimate, but he was certain the light came from the haze approaching them. A bright orange flash showed him the target, what he had every reason to suspect was an aircraft.

"All units, guns at the ready. Prepare to fire at my mark." the Major ordered, although he knew he was overstepping his authority. But he suspected he wasn't the only one defying protocol, if the nearby Panzer-Hummels raising their arm mounted autocannons was any indicator. His own battalion was ahead of the curve as he noted approvingly.

Reaching down for his binoculars, he gazed at the growing cloud. Thermals showed just a homogeneous mass of whitish orange, and night vision was outright worthless at the moment. Sucking in a breath, he magnified the optics, and when he saw discernible shapes within the cloud, he magnified again. What he beheld stole his breath away.

It was a collection of monsters out of a nightmare. Massive crablike abominations, toned a milky white, held dark claws up while an eyeless head dangled where a tail should be, seeming to glare at the EU lines. Crawling on the beast and all around it were smaller red creatures, multi-limbed spider-like things baring disturbingly human teeth. Thundering just ahead however were squat monsters reminding him of Scarab beetles, the face a massive triangular green mass resembling a shield, pockmarked by several purple scars. Besides tiny monsters with huge twin eyes mixed in below, what truly drew his gaze was something behind them, something much bigger. Towering over its counterparts, the insect shaped beast stabbed a dozen massive legs into the ground while it seemed to leisurely stroll, as if it walked on stilts.

Bindl tried counting the scrambling monsters, but after just seconds he realized there were too many. It was if- no, the entire horizon really was filled by these abominations, so much like his nightmares of the entire Britannian army gunning for him. Only these were real.

And they were charging towards Yekaterinburg.

"Fire! Fire at will!" the Major shouted, and the world around him screamed back. The air roiled from being whipped into a frenzy, as if God's hand was sweeping a meter above his head, and a baleful roar overtook everything. A tiny part of him figured someone opened fire without orders, but he wasn't in the mood to care.

Above him the sky turned to fire; streaks of glowing fireflies swarmed, from MG's running through their belts to the staggering booms of nearby artillery guns. Gouts of flame seemed to pour from the Panzer-Hummels and IFVs, while tanks shook from the powerful recoil of their 125mm guns. His own Leo jerked back, catching the Major by surprise and making him accidentally smack into the armor face first. His cry of pain didn't reach his own ears, even past the plugs stuffed deep inside.

The tide of firepower soared overhead like a tidal wave. Light streaks flashed from the horde, creating flashes of explosions in midair, the shells intercepted before they hit their targets. The volume was enough to get past the unnervingly accurate lasers at a heavy cost, the spent ordnance slamming into the outer edges and going up in enormous fireballs, larger than anything Bindl ever saw before. Such a deluge would stop all but the largest Britannian assaults in their tracks.

But to his horror, the monsters weren't slowing. The unholy creatures plowed through the firestorms like they didn't notice them, even as scores of beasts collapsed and were crushed underfoot. Hundreds were dead in seconds, but that didn't seem to dent their numbers. Far more however were unaffected by the barrage, with the leading armored ones ignoring all attacks: a shell from his own Leopard ricocheted off a beetle monster's face, careening off to parts unknown.

When the charging titans reached the first lines, Bindl gasped in shock. The armored monsters and the crab ones charged through the defenses without pause, tearing gaping holes in the lines just by moving, while red beasts and even tinier white ones swarmed over the scattered men. Minefields past the lines did practically nothing, no explosions he saw even crippled a beast. They just kept coming regardless of what the Europeans and Russians threw at them.

Now that they were so close, he realized how massive they were: the leading ones were easily twelve meters tall and twice as wide, dwarfing the EU forces by a ridiculous margin. Even the 'tiny' red things were the size of Panzer-Hummels and ran at least as quickly, if not faster.

When the dots connected, Major Bindl screamed into his radio. "Fall back! Fall back right now!"

This time he was ready for his Leo jerking back, joining units of his battalion going in reverse. Fire from the EU lines weakened a bit, although it made little difference to the horde coming right for them. Even as his tank scored a hit on a crab monster it didn't falter. Other units were coming to his same realization, pulling back to put some distance between this foe. But it wasn't enough.

The Scarabs and the Crabs slammed into the European lines like a tsunami, crushing, smashing, and destroying everything in their path. Vehicles were crumpled underneath the colossal bulk of the lead monsters, or swatted away by powerful limbs. Bindl could only watch helplessly as a Panzer-Hummel was backhanded into a building, going up in a fireball. Another who barely managed to avoid the first wave was set upon by a pack of red Tarantula things, its arms torn off before it could fire a shot.

Bouncing roughly from what he hoped was an abandoned vehicle, the Major saw the Scarab line get past the defenders, and head face first into the buildings. Those proved to be no obstacle either; the armored creatures rearing back to shove themselves onto the abandoned apartments, sending them crashing down in a cloud of debris. No sooner did the massive boom reach him were they moving again, simply plowing through anything in their way.

Gunships from the inner city swooped overhead, lasting just seconds before those damned lasers lanced the craft and set them aflame. Not one missed, and no aircraft lasted longer than a few seconds. Unlike the monsters however, the dead pilots weren't so accurate; one burning wreck crashed in the middle of the street, just a few meters from his fleeing tank.

"Schiesse!" Bindl screamed, ducking down as a wave of fire flashed overhead.

Grimacing at the screech of abused metal, he jerked back up the second he was able, ignoring his singed hairs. He spared a peek backwards, only to gasp at the Scarab and Crab line bowling through buildings, and crushing the burning gunship which nearly took his head off.

"Where's the rally point!?" he screamed to his crew.

"Unknown! Everything's fucked!" his radio operator screamed right back, gaping like a fish.

A building in their path exploded, revealing a spindly Colossus shaking away concrete off its enormous bulk as it marched through. Bindl jerked when the turret swung back around, just as the towering monster, so tall he needed to crane his head back to even see its body, swiveled its featureless head towards his Leopard. From underneath a long appendage slid out from an abdominal stinger, which then whipped back. The Major's instincts told him to drop and buckle himself in, this time remembering to slam the hatch shut. He was spared the sight of the titanic monster, but there was no saving him from its wrath.

Suddenly 'down' changed directions, loose debris going airborne as he was yanked tight against his restraints, along with his crew. Feeling his blood get sucked first to his head, then to his right, then left, then to his feet, and all over again, Bindl squeezed his eyes shut and prayed. Tried to anyway, he couldn't piece together a coherent thought. A high pitched scream filled the cabin, and he realized with guilty relief that it wasn't him.

Just as quickly as it began the ride stopped, the tank lurching to a stop with a tremendous crash, plunging the interior into darkness.

Bindl gasped, sputtering out a long groan. Squeezing his eyes shut, he slowly became aware that he was oriented properly, and that the tank he went through so much trouble to acquire was silent. His foot was sending lances of pain up his leg, but right now he had no time to mind; instead he coughed, trying to get his voice back.

'S-status?" he croaked, raising a shaking hand to the restraint that saved his life.

A groan came from somewhere in the cabin, followed by a rattle of some panel, and then a cone of blinding light illuminated the cramped space. "Gah, wei."

"Can you, ah, move?" the Major groaned, unclipping his belt.

"I-I think so." the speaker replied shakily.

Bindle gulped. "Anyone else, sound off."

"...I think its, merde."

Groaning, Bindl winced as he crawled up the hatch. Although his ears rung with what he feared was a concussion, he could hear rumbling permeating the hull, of shaking and explosions at an altogether too close distance. A part of him wanted to stay put in his armored shell, but rationally he knew that was suicide; even assuming this area wouldn't be caught in the crossfire, he had no doubts those demonic creatures would find them. Sighing once his hand fell on the handle, he slowly lifted the hatch to let daylight spill into the cabin.

Gunfire and explosions filled his ears, none quite so close. Sweeping his blinking eyes around the street, he clinically noted the abandoned cars and flaming wrecks scattered about, but he spotted no movement. Nodding to himself, he hauled himself free with a groan. Everything was shaking, making it difficult to keep his vision steady.

"Alright, it's clear." he said into the hatch.

"Wei, ah, jawol. I'm on my-"

Before he knew it the tank lurched again, sending him tumbling off the side with a yelp. The Major was scrambling even after the fresh pain of landing on asphalt, reflexively kicking his legs to try to get onto his back.

Snapping his head over, he gasped at the attacker: a quartet of spidery Tarantuals were pawing their many limbs at his Leopard. Armor that could withstand all but the largest of ordnance was pried apart, peeled off in a grating screech by powerful grips, then to his utter bafflement, stuffed inside the creatures' mouths. Somehow, the bite force behind the jaws was enough to methodically crush the armor into slivers.

Its eating the tank, Bindl thought with astonishment. His momentary confusion at how this thing could do that vanished when he heard a high pitched scream, lasting just seconds before a wet crunch silenced the luckless crewman.

One Tarantula looked up from his wrecked Leopard, halting its jaws to stop the crunching metal, peering at him. Bindl was still for a moment, then he crawled back on his hands as fast as he could. The red abomination just climbed over its fellows towards him. His life flashed before his eyes-

The Tarantula dropped into a heap, leaking red ichor from massive gaping holes in its body. As he blinked, red fireflies tore through the others still on his tank, shredding the flailing monsters where they stood. None made so much as a groan when they fell.

Bindl panted as he felt for his cross, unable to properly grasp that he was still alive. Not until the familiar shape of a Panzer-Hummel came to a skidding halt did he move, swiveling over to discover the Knightmare and a trailing flatbed truck laden by wounded soldiers. When the hatch popped open, he momentarily wondered if he did actually die.

"Ashra?"

From behind the Panzer-Hummel's controls, the redheaded Knight grinned. "There you are Matty."

"How…" Indignation overcame shock, until the truck honked its horn insistently.

"No time, rally points at Ufa. Get on!" Ashra barked, clamping the Panzer-Hummel's hatch closed with an air of finality.

Groaning as he rose, Bindl hobbled over to the truck, where two soldiers helped him up. He was pointedly aware that one was a Britannian, but none of the others, European and Russian alike, made a fuss over uniforms. He wasn't fully on when the truck surged forward, nearly spilling him over before a soldier yanked him to the vibrating surface. Meanwhile their escort took point for the flatbed, pushing its drive system faster than regulations permitted; the sheer absurdity of that observation made him want to laugh.

Collapsing in a heap with the wind grasping at his sweaty form, Major Bindl glanced back to Yekaterinburg; smoke was spreading all over the city, sweeping over countless defenses that should've halted an army corp before breaking. Laser flashes systematically cleared the skies, while towers and buildings crumbled under the visible advance of the monsters. They were steadily moving towards the highway his tiny convoy was using, but at their speed they wouldn't catch them.

Sweeping his head around to discover no other moving vehicles, Bindl raised a shaking hand to eye level, ignoring one soldier weeping and the hollow looks on the rest, and peered at his watch.

"Fifteen minutes." he mumbled to the wind.

XXX​

Bolting upright, the Witch awoke with a gasp. For a moment her eyes were wide, her breath quick and short, swimming in fear she hadn't felt for so long…

Steadying herself, she closed her eyes and pushed the blanket off her nightgown clad body. When she opened them, she took in the thick darkness in every direction, broken only by the soft orange glow from the window. Nevertheless she unerringly locked onto the bed located a stones throw away, brushing her green hair out of the way to stare at the still sleeping boy. After a moment she determined her outburst hadn't woken him, and another moment informed her the other two residents weren't disturbed either.

When she rose from the sofa, the Witch called CC paused to check on him, despite knowing he was soundly asleep. Raven hair, sharp features, and currently a slack expression defined what he was on the outside, but she knew that was a mask. A mask just like the one hidden in a secret storage closet under the floor, which resembled a chess piece. He was a man of lies through and through, willfully describing himself as a demon to his allies and enemies alike. Lies to cloak a noble goal, but truth was anathema to him nonetheless.

Lelouch Lamprouge, a student of Ashford Academy. Lelouch Vi Britannia, the Eleventh Prince of the Holy Britannian Empire, presumed dead with his sister Nunnally Vi Britannia seven years ago, but in reality hiding in the Imperial colony of Area 11, formerly known as Japan. Zero, the leader of the Black Knights. A foolish boy whom she made a contract with, for the power of a King.

Sometimes CC wondered what part was the mask, and what part was the man underneath.

Shaking her head, the Witch made a quiet shushing noise at an empty part of the room. Flicking her gaze, she decided on the obvious; slowly moving the heavy door so to not squeak the hinges, she latched it behind her and powered off. Lelouch always threw a tantrum when she left without his knowledge, but at the moment she cared even less for his opinion than usual. In any case she was carefully to remain out of sight, taking the stairs on her way to the roof.

This door she was less careful with, but no less discreet. After checking her surroundings, she nodded in satisfaction.

"Okay, what was so important that you-" CC halted, wrinkling her features into a frown. "Slow down, you're not making sense."

Crossing her gowned arms, the Witch sent an irritated look to the hazy sky. Despite the light pollution from the Tokyo Settlement, the full moon shown clearly. Oh how she wanted to enjoy such an evening.

"An entire army destroyed, fascinating. How is it my problem? You never cared for his struggle before, what makes this-"

CC blinked, the words dying in her throat.

"But… no, it's not them." she squeezed her eyes shut, twisting away. "You know as well as I do Those-From-Beyond would never resort to war, they're too afraid of losing. Unless…" her head lifted, the color draining from her face. "Someone else stumbled onto their secret."

Nearby, crickets warbled their tune to the quiet night.

"But why would they… an accident? Of course, ignorant humans toying with powers they can't control." she huffed, features sliding into a tight glare. "And now, something dangerous is let loose here. I dearly hope someone with a bit of sense fixes this mess."

Cold wind caressed her body, colder than this time of year should permit. Whatever feelings of disdain CC felt vanished; the air itself seemed to quiver, like a powerful grip had seized ahold of existence itself. Sound became muted, moonlight and the hazy city glow lost their luster. Again the Witch felt that old sensation of fear, but this time the cause weren't memories of a long gone life. The reason was something infinitely worse, something that was ancient when humanity was young, and would exist long after the sun burned out.

It was behind her.

CC slowly turned, only just halting the quivering. Instead she stood as straight as she could manage, smoothing her face when she laid eyes on a mass of… she abruptly realized she didn't know what it was. A sphere? No, that wasn't quite right; it looked like a ball of grey, but it wasn't, not really. Every time she blinked it somehow changed, but she couldn't name how or what, only that it did. The object was there, but it wasn't at the same time, as if the universe couldn't make up its mind.

When she blinked again, CC relied on her iron will to stop from flinching. A difficult task, considering the female human shape that appeared just an arms length away.

Her golden eyes cooly regarded the being; the otherworldly hair, a face so much like her favorite deceased companion, and an expression that could be made of stone, such was its outer perfection and utter lack of emotion. Her outfit seemed so nondescript, showing off the symbol CC bore on her forehead all over her ensemble. All around her the hold on reality spread, encompassing a slowly growing patch with her at the center. Risking a peek skywards, she noted uneasily the moon had dimmed significantly.

"Why are you here?"

The being tipped her head back a couple degrees. ,,We have a task for you.,,

Her voice echoed almost like a choir, but the sounds were distorted, as if heard through a terrible radio connection. The noise alone made her skin crawl, wanting to retreat from such an unnatural display.

"You've made it abundantly clear that you care little for this world." CC tried to probe.

A slight movement of the lips; irritation? ,,This concerns all. What has been unleashed poses a threat to all of space-time, we must stop it now.,,

"Then why come to me?" CC mustered the cockiness to cross her arms.

The being didn't fall for the bait. ,,You will act in our place. The pestilence now roaming this world know of our power, we must limit our actions to preserve an advantage.,,

"And if I-" her attempt at flippancy was a total failure; her breath vanished, all of her muscles locking in place. She couldn't move, couldn't breath…

Mere seconds passed before she let go, allowing the Witch to gasp. ,,You will become our vessel. Twice we shall use you according to our design, thrice if the circumstances are unfavorable. Until then, guide your charge to stop this plague.,,

The hold receded, color and sound returning to the void when the being turned away. As she walked back to that aggravating no-sphere, CC affixed a sour look upon her.

"What if I fail?"

The being paused. ,,You will not.,,

CC pursed her lips. "And if I do anyway?"

,,Then nothing will survive.,, she twisted around, and the look on her ethereal face made her blood run cold. ,,Stop the infestation here, or we will have to annihilate this world. For the sake of the wider universe, you cannot fail.,,

CC blinked, and everything seemed to snap back into place. Color, sound, it all went back to normal. If not for her cold sweat, she would never suspect anything happened in the first place. For a long moment she wondered if what just occurred was a hallucination, brought on by her own powers or an attack from her foe. So reasonable was this idea. But alas, she knew better.

Groaning when she slapped her face, CC slumped. "What idiot thought it was a good idea to puncture reality?"

 

Five days earlier…

"What was once theoretical is now possible. At least it was, before six capacitors were blown to smithereens handling the power stress." Explained the scientist to her hapless pupils, both of whom were suffering greatly from information overload. Especially the male one, who kept a mask of worried confusion since the talking began.

Takeru Shirogane, UN cadet of Squad 207, and a certified outsider, was completed and utterly lost. He was so confused in fact, that he thought his eyes were rolling out of his skull and were about to bounce to the floor. Gripping his fatigue leggings helped steady his spinning head, but he needed far more than that to make sense of… this.

For the brown haired teenager, his current dilemma wasn't exactly an unusual development. Getting shafted into a nightmarish alternate reality, discovering mankind was losing a war against voracious aliens, losing everything, and then waking up back where he started, he was quite sure his common sense was left in a ditch somewhere. Trying to change things for the better was showing mixed results, but he felt he was getting somewhere. With his friends from Cadet Squad 207, he was sure he could prevent the looming apocalypse from coming to pass.

At least before he was summoned to an office with one of said friends, and witnessing a terrifying sight: a mad scientist only just returning from a week of an unexplained absence, ranting in front of her prisoners. Before he entered, he heard a mad cackling inside and knew he was going to suffer.

"Uh, Yuuko-sen-um." Takeru stopped himself, clearing his throat. "Professor?"

Yuuko Kouzuki was her name, an attractive woman in her mid twenties with a mane of purple hair and a malicious gleam in her eyes. Currently garbed in her typical uniform overlaid by a lab coat, the woman Takeru called teacher in another lifetime paced in front of her desk, excitedly chatting to herself. Her arms gesticulated wildly as she spoke, showing an unusual level of excitement as a clutched pen drafted equations in the air.

"The power requirements for a stable Einstein-Rosen bridge were far beyond what mankind in in total could produce, but thanks to a favor I was able to get some solid formulas out of the Oxford labs and the University of Tokyo. Requisitioning all the necessary supplies was an utter waste of daylight, but it gave me time to account for scalar variations when compared against the centralized singularity." Yuuko went on, ignoring her charges. He had the distinct impression she forgot they were here. The boy tried wracking his brain for what he did to cause this, but nothing came up.

What finally got her attention was another cleared throat, this one much more dignified than his own. The blue haired girl sitting beside him sat stock still with her hands in her lap, calm even as the professor froze mid step to twist herself around.

"Professor, may I ask why you ordered us to report to your office?" she asked, every syllable pronounced with the upmost care.

Meiya, Mitsurugi Meiya. Taller than Takeru by a small amount, sporting tied back blue hair reaching as far as her back, she emitted a regal composure just by being present. Even in the drab blue UN cadet uniform like his, she seemed infinitely more formal than her companion. Like Yuuko, the boy knew her from a long gone existence, but unlike his former teacher she kept much more in common with her alternate self. And right now, her collected expression shown with a concealed frown.

Yuuko stared for a moment before righting herself, straightening out her coat. "Well, alrighty then."

Taking a moment to lean on her desk, the woman put on a dangerous smirk. Instinctively Takeru felt a shiver crawl up his spine.

"What do either of you know of quantum mechanics? Don't answer that." she swiped a hand, although only the boy opened his mouth. "Neither of you will understand, so I'll just explain this in baby terms. Alright? Alright."

"Um, okay?" Takeru frowned, checking on Meiya to find out she looked similarly puzzled.

Reaching behind her, Yuuko snagged a couple papers and held them out. Once he had his in hand, the teen gave the paper one look and blanched; science was never his strong suit, but he immediately recognized the rows upon rows of formulas and equations were entirely beyond his keen. Meiya frowned at her own paper, lowering it to frown.

"What is this Professor Kouzuki? I recognize a few of these figures, but…" she trailed off uneasily.

Yuuko grinned. "This? The brainchild of a colleague of mine, an American physicist based out of Groom Lake back in the early nineties. Its a means to travel from one point in space to another instantaneously."

Although he knew he wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, Takeru recognized what she meant immediately: teleportation. Plenty of games he played before being dumped here had such a mechanic, and despite being clueless on the science behind it, he understood the applications right away. It must've shown on his face, for Yuuko's smile deepened.

"This sounds very useful. Why wasn't it explored more?" Meiya frowned, for a moment upsetting her companion's scenario building. "The technology involved here seems theoretical at best. Was this physicist unable to make it function?"

"Officially no." Yuuko shook her head. "She had a prototype built, but between an inability to get it to work and a lack of progress, the Department of Defense shut down the project. Even with help from her commanding officer and a wealthy archeologist family, she couldn't convince her superiors to retain her funding. Just another failed experiment in a long chain of failures."

Takeru's excitement shriveled up, making the teen slump dejectedly. He knew it sounded too good to be true…

He picked up at the same time Meiya narrowed her eyes, feeling a sly grin of his own. "And unofficially?"

Again Yuuko grinned, but unlike her previous smile, this one put the boy on edge right away; he recognized this smirk, knowing it spelt ruin and chaos with her at the center.

"The truth is the prototype did work for a short while." the woman leaned in. "Although travel from one end to another was impossible, the device was able to locate another Earth. One that, as far as a short observation was able to determine, was untouched by BETA."

Again Takeru's heart clenched, blurting out an undignified, "Really?"

Could this be his way back home? Trailing guilt didn't fully overcome his rising hope, to escape this nightmarish place once and for all, although he internally cringed at leaving all his friends behind. But at the very least he hoped this would be the key to preventing the upcoming apocalypse from coming to pass.

"That's amazing." Meiya agreed wholeheartedly, before frowning once more. "But if it worked, why did the Americans not pursue further research?"

"Because viewing an interacting are two different things. The device could create momentary windows to another world, but actually traversing to there, let alone returning, was impossible. Until now." Yuuko's grin widened. "I looked up some side projects during my deadlock, and as it turns out the solution was pretty simple: a minute amount of G-elements as a catalyst could stabilize the bridge enough to permit matter to cross intact. Tuning the process was harder than recreating the machine, and it was pretty easy to make all things considered."

Internally cursing the woman, a thought occurred to Takeru. "Is this portal machine here in Yokohama?"

"Got it in one. Although the official name is the Carter-Kouzuki device." she corrected flippantly.

"So then Professor, why are you informing us of this technology?" Meiya frowned, earning a quick look from Takeru, and a catlike smile from Yuuko. A smile transitioning into a menacing chuckle that caused the blue haired girl to blanch, exchanging an uneasy look with her comrade.

Hang on, the teen thought with a twisted feeling in his gut. "You don't mean…"

Fifteen minutes later…

"She meant it." Takeru slumped, resisting the urge to stuff his hands in his jacket pockets. It felt weird to be wearing civilian clothes after all this time, even if they were much rattier than what he was used to having. Absently rubbing his watch clad wrist, he wished he was training with the others instead of being here; at least then he'd be in familiar territory.

Several levels down from the office was a well illuminated experiment room, as Yuuko colloquially referred to it as. He was sure a massive emptied storeroom filled with monitors, power cables, and an elongated arch made of capacitors leading to a tiny space filled with mirror panels, all thrumming with teeth chattering power, didn't count. But if it did, then he was the lab rat. Rats tended to meet plenty of bad ends in labs.

"Oh relax, you'll be fine." Yuuko waved off as she approached, with a familiar (and clearly displeased) face at her side. "I wouldn't send you two through this if I wasn't mostly sure you'd be alright."

"I wouldn't allow it at all if I was in charge." spoke her stiff formed companion, one Marimo Jinguuji. A bit shorter than Takeru, the brunette woman in an immaculate UN uniform radiated the authority and discipline of a drill sergeant, but at the moment she was additionally giving off equal parts resigned frustration and concern. Not for the first time he felt a pang of longing for the long gone teacher he once teased.

Meiya snapped off a salute a heartbeat before Takeru, somehow looking formal in faded jeans and an old windbreaker. Marimo nodded to them to relax, rolling her shoulders with a huff.

"Let me make this clear: I do not approve putting TSF cadets in this dangerous experiment, let alone my trainees." her harsh voice was directed at Yuuko, who remained unfazed by her demeanor. "I have confidence in your success of course, but this isn't something that should fall upon you."

"They'll be fine, the whole squad passed the CCSE with flying colors remember?" Yuuko waved off.

The boy groaned just thinking of that tropical island; sure he survived it twice, but both times left him physically and spiritually exhausted afterwards, even though it was necessary to finally get the squad trained to his level of skill. He strongly believed this mission, whatever it was, wouldn't be any better.

"Mar-" Takeru caught himself again, sensing his nickname of Marimo-chan would make things worse. "Sergeant Jinguuji." he got out instead, wanting to ask for details. Like why they were hopping in a teleporter instead of training for starters, where his skills really shown. He dearly hoped it wasn't because the UN didn't have the manpower for a day long event.

Marimo huffed irritably, smoothing out her expression when she turned to her cadets. "Listen closely. By order of General Radhabinod, your mission is reconnaissance. You are to scout the local area, obtain or create a topographical map, and avoid hostile contact. You'll be on the other side for exactly three hours."

"Understood." Meiya nodded with her quick reply.

"M-Sergeant Jinguuji." Takeru corrected himself just in time, receiving a confirming nod. He wanted to ask why they were picked over any other candidates, but another thought occurred to him. "How are we supposed to get back?"

"The machine will reactivate in the same location, so don't get lost." was her foreboding answer. "For your safety however, I'm providing you with these." she handed over twin bulky packages, dark colored fabric connected to a lot of straps. The second the weight settled in his hand, Takeru gulped: he was holding a pistol.

"Thank you ma'am." the blue haired girl said, accepting her weapon with care.

"It shouldn't be necessary to use your sidearms, but given the situation, it'd be criminally neglectful to not give you any protection." Marimo's expression softened ever so slightly. "Complete your mission, but don't take any risks that you don't have to. Come back in one piece, understood?"

"Understood." the duo responded, Meiya with a perfect salute, and Takeru by shrugging sheepishly during his own gesture.

Yuuko glanced over her shoulder and nodded. "Its time."

Backing off to the safety of a nearby monitoring station, the two women left the cadets be, putting on their underarm holsters while they faced the groaning machine. Grimacing as he fumbled with his straps, a pair of deft hands quickly fixed his tangle, and assisted him in hiding the weapon under his jacket.

"Relax, I have faith in Professor Kouzuki's abilities." Meiya said quietly. Takeru rolled his shoulders, sighing dejectedly.

"Glad somebody does." he muttered, hearing the woman in question bark something at a technician. Although he wasn't going to admit it, seeing her act like this was almost welcoming. If only he wasn't the subject of some insane experiment.

Expecting a great fanfare of an activation from the bulky machine, the teen felt a wash of disappointment when instead of something spectacular (a flower bloom of glowing power, a geyser of displaced energy, lightning sparks), a black point manifested in the arch's center. The closest thing to unexpected was the dot of pure darkness expanding until it was twice his height, softly rippling on the edges to form a giant disc, like an enormous pupil. It was almost silent, the machines around it louder than the portal's low hum. This was perhaps the lamest sci-fi mechanism he ever saw.

"I find this amazing." the girl beside him mumbled, making him wince at realizing he spoke out loud.

Sparing one more look over his shoulder, Takeru spied Yuuko jabbing a thumbs up while shooing with her other hand. Sighing, he straightened up his posture, and walked towards the black surface. The teen hesitated to run his hand over the portal, feeling a faint tingle on his skin when his limb passed through. Sparing one more look at Meiya, who was looking somewhat queasy herself, he forced his concerns aside. He wanted to change the future, and this was perhaps his best shot.

Taking a deep breath, he threw himself forward…

XXX​

…and a heartbeat later popped out the other end.

Blinking at a ray of sunlight pouring through a window, he swept his head around; he was in a decrepit apartment, empty of furniture and the paint peeling off the walls. Nothing of note was at his front or sides, and at his back was only the black disc hanging in midair. His momentary elation was muted, but not eliminated. So was a cold shiver crawling on his skin, which didn't pass quickly enough. Neither did a weird ache in the back of his skull.

Seconds later Meiya waltzed through, expression twitching slightly once she manifested. She let out a breath, and spared a glance behind her as Takeru looked on as well. The disc shaped portal seemed to thicken for a moment, then with a graceless shudder, it faded into wisps of dark smoke that vanished as quickly as it formed. Just like that, the UN cadets were left alone in an abandoned flat.

"Are you alright?" he asked in concern, shifting his weight.

"I am well, if a bit discombobulated. Certainly I expected something more… otherworldly." she spared a glance around.

"Um, yeah, me too." Takeru rolled his shoulders, debating whether to ask if she felt any pain. Her straightening posture shelved that idea.

"We need to be careful. This room appears uninhabited, but the rest of the building may not be." Meiya warned, putting on a strong front. "To begin, we should head to the roof to get a lay of the land."

"Yeah, good idea." Takeru nodded, searching until he found the door. Taking the lead, he exited into an empty hallway, swinging his head to make sure. "Looks clear…"

He froze, eyes locked onto the wall opposite of the flat. On the faded bloodstain plastered over half the surface, pockmarked by dozens of jagged holes and tears. At his back Meiya peered at the sight, and grimaced.

"We need to keep moving." she insisted tersely.

Taking a deep breath, Takeru tore his gaze away and powered on. Before he went too far he peered hard at the flat's number, burning the information into his mind as best as he could. His companion likewise spared a look back, perhaps unnecessarily given her better memory, but it wouldn't hurt to make extra sure. Once that was done the teens swiftly located a stairwell and pressed on, the boy trying hard to not think of the spot where someone was gunned down.

Five arduous minutes later and the roof door swung open, Meiya striding onto the building's top with only a minute change to her breath, and behind her Takeru groaned as he trotted after her; the boy wished he knew beforehand that they were on the second floor of a fifteen story apartment before jogging up all those stairs. He almost bumped into the blue haired girl, jerking away in time to avoid bowling her over.

"What, what's the matter…" he trailed off, adopting the same slack jawed look as her the moment he saw the city skyline.

Ruins, ruins in every direction. Broken and run buildings spanned the ground from their vantage point, reaching far into the distance, only stopping at arrays of rugged hills jutting up from the landscape. Most skyscrapers and apartments were crumbling, some looking very much like they were used as target practice, and from many places were small trails of black smoke; not battle damage he recognized, but more like small bonfires rising to some unknown pattern. Here and there were small dots zipping above the shambled city, almost like patrolling aircraft.

But when the boy swiveled his head, he saw something that made him do a double take: a huge platform in the city center, jutting dozens of gleaming skyscrapers a hundred stories tall. There wasn't much around for reference, but he could easily tell that shining place was enormous. A city in its own right, bright and clean unlike the ruined metropolis surrounding it.

"Woah." he mumbled. When he checked on Meiya however, Takeru gawked at her jaw hanging open in visible shock.

"I don't believe it, this is Tokyo." she said breathlessly, pointing to the distance.

Following her finger, he discovered how she knew; he recognized the faraway mountain overlooking the city as Mt Fuji, although he only saw it with his own eyes as a child. But the problem was that he knew the real mountain didn't have a mass of metallic steppes along one facing, shining in the same glittering way as the misplaced city.

"Huh, didn't know the wage gap was this bad." Takeru attempted a small laugh, which transitioned into a flinch at her powerful glare. "Sorry, I take it back."

Sighing, Meiya rolled her shoulders. "Let's explore around."

Going down the building was easier than up, not the least because they walked this time. Takeru kept stealing glances at his squadmate, wrinkling his brow at the small frown she carried. Several times he almost asked what was bothering her, but he had a decent idea of the reason, largely because he was feeling something similar. Yuuko said there were no BETA here, but that didn't mean everything would automatically be better. As much as he didn't like to admit it, he knew that better than most.

His thoughts were pushed aside once they hit the ground floor, passing by a handful of people taking shelter there. They looked Japanese, but filthy and clad in dirty clothes. Moreover, Takeru realized they were casting suspicious looks at the duo in their midst, at least one reaching under a broken table for what he sensed was nothing good. His wrinkled face contrasted with Meiya's steely determination, but neither paused on their way out the open doors.

Once outside, the two had to stop just to get their bearings. Many more people were in every direction, all of whom were like the ones in the building; wailing infants, chattering men and women as they worked hard on various tasks, some children either joining the adults or playing, and all of them were in such close proximity to one another. At this moment the boy realized how badly they stood out, between their clean appearances and definitely unusual demeanors. Even the way they walked was different from the locals.

"A refugee camp?" asked Meiya confusedly, but Takeru shook his head and shoved her a bit behind, almost instinctively. While he knew exactly that she could hold her ground and more, she didn't really have experience with this type of situation.

"I don't think so. Not sure what this place is, but its nor a refugee camp. Look, too young men, lots of women and children.“ he said, although he had a feeling it was one. He was pretty sure he knew exactly what was going on here, the entire situation gave him an uneasy feeling of deja vu. At least the people out here didn't look armed.

Sweeping his head around, he took in more of this rubble filled city. Ground level was just like the rooftop, everything looking neglected or simply broken from some unknown calamity, although voices filled the air from every direction. Upon musing, he decided that the place was a step up from Yokohama, which never failed to unsettle him at its sheer desolation.

When a young man lazily strolled to the middle of a cracked street to stop in their path, the cadets halted in place. Takeru recognized this scenario from tons of films, but even though Meiya didn't have his media immersed upbringing, she was canny enough to recognize this man's attitude. His alongside many friends; two more detached themselves from both sides of the street (one letting a rusty pipe screech along the broken pavement), and upon twisting his head around he found another pair blocking their retreat. He tensed, grimacing at their proximity.

The first one, the leader Takeru assumed, smirked as he strode his dirty self closer, as did his gang. Hands in his pockets, the young man scoffed.

"Don't see too many new faces around here." he called out, his buddies grinning dangerously.

"We did not mean to encroach upon your boundaries." Meiya spoke up, causing Takeru to wince; there was no avoiding a scene with these guys, he knew she was just going to provoke them.

Leader whistled suggestively while checking out Meiya, causing her to bristle at his shifting grin while Takeru's stance tensed. "Ooh, fancy broad aren't you? Lemme guess, upper class clan back in the day."

A lackey snorted. "How much you wanna bet they're Honoraries?"

"Suckers bet." another scoffed, but unlike the others he was almost glaring at them. "Whole family must've whored themselves out for a quick way up."

"Yeah, bet you like thinking of yourselves as Elevens, dontcha?" yet another taunted with a feral grin.

Huh? Thought Takeru in spite of the danger, wondering what they were talking about. Internally he cursed Yuuko for throwing them into this mess with zero information.

No matter how puzzled Meiya must've been at their words, she remained composed. "We are just strangers here, there's no need for a confrontation."

"Well too bad, because you found one." when Leader drew a clutched switchblade, all of his lackeys tensed up. "The Ronins do what we want, and don't give a shit what anyone says. Not the Black Knights, not the Britannians, and sure as hell not you."

Behind him Meiya moved in to try to defuse the situation, but Takeru hand signaled her to let it be. There was no defusing things now.

They have us circled, he realized, and in that moment he made his decision.

A second later, when the leader of the gang opened his mouth again, undoubtedly to threaten them, he kicked the ground before him to catapult a wad of sharp gravel directly into his face. As he jerked back with a yelp, the very next moment during the leader pawed at his eyes and tried to hack, Takeru struck.

Crossing the distance between them in an instant, Takeru punched him in the jaw, adding further disorientating pain. The second, third and fourth blows hit in rapid succession on his temple, stomach, and solar plexus, causing his opponent to spasm in pain. He ripped his arms up in a hasty attempt to defend himself; his last mistake.

Takeru swept his feet out from under him, sending the thug onto the asphalt in a cry. Before he was able to get up again, a well aimed kick to the backside of his head knocked him out of the fight.

The others, who had been completely taken by surprise by Takeru's sudden attack, now finally sprung into action. The first one ran at him, going for a powerful, wide right hook swing. Strong and predictable. He didn't even try to waste energy attempting to counter or block that strike; Instead he leaned himself into the swing, utilizing the force behind it against his foe, throwing him into the third gangster sending both to the ground.

Seeing that the threat of the two was neutralized for the moment, he turned to the next guy, only to get a fist rammed into his stomach. The force behind it drove the air out of his lungs, and almost sent his lunch back up.

Opening his mouth to avoid chomping on his own tongue, he grappled the thug in a hug like move. The victim clearly didn't expected for things to get this close and personal, recoiling to give Takeru the perfect opening to headbutt him into the face, causing him to howl in pain. A howl that turned into a squeaky yelp when he brutally rammed his knee into his crotch. Sweeping his head around, he glanced at the two remaining thugs, who looked in shock at their fallen comrades before slowly backing away from him.

Takeru felt rather than heard someone coming at his back, too fast to block. Twisting his head, his expression morphed into alarm as he recognized the furious Leader, his switchblade's point coming right for him. There was no time to dodge, no time to react. He was about to die-

*BLAM*

Each and every thug ducked and flinched, and Takeru with them when he felt the air rip past him. His ears rang from the gunshot, slowly lowering his hands after they shot up to gawk in astonishment.

Breathing deeply, Meiya kept her elbows bent as she swept her head around, the handgun trained on the thug. When Leader flinched, she immediately re-centered the sights on his quivering form. Her twin handed grip showed only a faint shiver.

"Hell with this!" one lackey turned and sprinted away, and the rest emulated him; Leader was the first to start running, dropping his knife without a second thought as he fled.

Lowering the weapon, Meiya took a shuddering breath before turning to her companion. Takeru groaned as he shifted his weight, feeling his gut start to swell from the punch.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly.

The answer was an empathetic no. "I'm alright, but we should clear out."

No matter how distracted he was, Takeru snapped over when a nearby door burst open, revealing a figure darting out before halting. Clad in street clothes overlaid by a black jacket, the man with a red headband around his forehead swung his head around before locking onto the pair.

"What's going on here?" he questioned rapidly, eyes falling on the weapon still in Meiya's grip.

"Its, ah, nothing." Takeru tried waving off, which only succeeded in having his blue haired companion holster the gun.

The man took several measured steps closer, his curly hair unmoving as he switched between them. "I don't exactly like having gunfights outside my apartment. So can I ask who you are?"

"We are… travelers. There was an altercation with some ruffians is all." Meiya stepped in; a glance by Takeru made him realize she was ready to escape.

"Sure." the man nodded, unconvinced. "You two should come with me then, you don't want a patrol called out here."

"No, we're fine." Takeru tried insisting, letting out a tiny gasp when he breathed too deeply.

"You can trust me." he swept his gaze around for a moment, then leaned in a little to speak quietly. "I'm with the Black Knights."

Takeru stared blankly, which caused the man to frown. "Who?"

"Wait, have you been living under a rock? Never mind." he shook his head. "Names Kaname Ougi, my apartments inside here." when neither budged, he sighed. "If you stay here, you're just gonna make more problems for everyone else in the ghetto. Please."

When Meiya exchanged an uncertain look with Takeru, he grimaced. They already violated their orders, but this stranger seemed trustworthy enough, although both cadets knew too well that looks were deceiving. When the blue haired girl nodded, he sighed dejectedly.

"We'll accompany you." she announced.

"Great, this way." he turned back the way he came, waving the outsiders to follow as he spared a look around; the way he did seemed very much like habit.

As he followed, Takeru grimaced as a thought occurred to him. "Is there anyone else in your home?"

"Just Chigusa, she's… c'mon." he hurriedly cleared his throat as he darted inside.

Without much of an option, Takeru and Meiya followed him.

"Say, you're not Honorary Britannians, are you?"

"…No?"

XXX​

"Hiya."

Many years of practice kept Yuuko Kouzuki from flinching at the voice, and many more years let her settle a harsh glare on the intruder in her buzzing control room. The place seemed a bit emptier than before thanks to Marimo's departure, but when she returned with the rest of a very worried Squad 207 for the duo's return, that would change. Unfortunately for Yuuko's sake that was still an hour away.

"Why exactly are you interfering in my experiment?" she snapped at the thirtiesh man (a rare specimen these days) in a sharp brown suit, complete with a raincoat and sharp rimmed hat, who was smiling oh so friendlily at her.

"What, why the hostility?" asked Sakon Yoroi. A well dressed gentleman, a high ranking member of the Imperial Japanese Ministry of Intelligence, and a recurring pain her neck.

"You know damn well why." Yuuko growled at the spy. "You already found out everything there is to know about Project Slingshot at the budget conference, there's no reason to barge in here."

Sakon chuckled. "What if I told you the Brass wants me here for an extra set of eyes?"

"There's dozens of observers, ten filmed experiments, and eight successes thus far. Including yourself. Sending off half trained cadets for some pointless checks is a waste none of have time for." Yuuko flopped a hand testily. "Or did you anger the High Command for telling them their their conquest dreams are doomed?"

"Oh, they know that too well." he smiled as he waved her off. "With as much intel as I brought back, including a message from that Zero fellow, they know barging in there will only turn the locals against them. This whole affair is better handled through the UN anyway."

"Hm, didn't stop the Americans from forcing a few teams of CIA through behind my back. Or you for that matter." Yuuko muttered angrily, turning away.

Just as Sakon opened his mouth for a retort, the omnipresent whining of the power lines suddenly grew louder, causing Yuuko to jerk towards a station. Before either of them could say a thing, thick capacitor blew up in a shower of sparks, creating a momentary spire of flame. Lowering her arms, the woman balked even as a technician darted in with a fire extinguisher.

"What happened?!" Yuuko bellowed.

"Unknown, capacitor nine just overloaded." reported one operator, pouring over the data.

"Damage?" she demanded.

"Need to realigned the coils and replace the line. Shouldn't take more than thirty minutes."

"Get on it, I'm not missing our window. And somebody find out what caused this." Yuuko commanded, watching personnel scramble as she checked her own monitor's readouts. She frowned at the weird power spike, uneasily noting that it was almost identical to the startup sequence…

"You're excited."

The scientist swiveled her head towards the guest, features sliding into a glare at his kindly smile. "What?"

"I haven't seen you act this energetic for a while now. You're hoping this will replace Alternative V?" Sakon asked lightly.

"You're too nosy, now go away." Yuuko turned away to pour over the data, trying to find out if there was some unknown mechanical issue she overlooked. She didn't spare a glance at Sakon Yoroi studying her for his master, lacking the ability to see faint red bands around his eyes.

XXX​

In a restricted lab nearby the so called portal room, danger filled the air. Humming machines, several monitoring systems, and the centerpiece of the lab, a cylindrical azure tank holding a human brain floating within, offered no salvation for the scared little girl inside. Her miniature UN uniform was ruffled now, her head mounted device coincidentally shaped like bunny ears providing no protection. There was nothing to save her as she backed into a wall.

Kasumi Yashiro staggered once she felt the cold metal, the small girl's face riveted by undisguised terror. She clutched at the wall as a cold sweat crawled over her skin, mouth agape as she only just stopped herself from screaming. Never had she felt this fear before, for nothing she ever faced could compare to what she was seeing now.

Floating closer and closer to the young psychic, the reason for her mind numbing fear, was a disembodied skull. Connected to nothing, covered by nothing, and grinning mirthlessly, it approached her like a predator stalking a juicy prey, its empty sockets peering into her quivering eyes. On the skull's forehead, an engraved sigil shaped as a folded double crane glowed with unearthly power.

,,This… is new…,, spoke its disembodied voice, even as the girl hyperventilated. ,,I will have… fun… with this place…,,