Turn 11 - Phase I (Results) B:
- Location
- South of North
Turn 11 - Phase 1 (Results) B:
Charles zi Britannia is as vulnerable as you've ever seen the man. While more recovered than when Euphemia had visited, he is still reclining on a great curved piece of furniture you're sure has an intricate, and probably French, name to describe it. Beside him is your mother, Marianne vi Britannia, who joins your father in staring at you vacantly as you continue your presentation. Schneizel, who had managed to talk his way into this whole thing, is off to one side. At one point, he'd obviously intended to play mother and serve tea to the whole room, but that plan had equally-obviously died as soon as you'd gotten a paragraph into your planned speech. Anya Alstreim is seated in a position near the door outside of your field of view and, while you are given to understand that silence is the girl's native tongue, the sheer void of noise and weight of attention from that angle is heavy enough that you believe her reaction to be similar.
You swirl a bit of saliva around in your mouth, wishing that Schneizel actually would get around to serving that tea, cold or not, at this point. In that moment, though, your father raises a heavy hand with his palm facing outward and closes his eyes for a long moment as he takes a deep breath.
"You discovered a piece of ancient psionic technology in an estate sale and, after bonding with it, learned that an ancient apocalypse had occurred. Said apocalypse was instigated by an alien race for unknown reasons some tens of thousands of years ago via orbital bombardment." Charles took a steadying breath, his eyes still closed. "Further, in researching this relic and the echoes of knowledge contained within, you have begun delving into the secrets of this ancient lost technology and replicating them. In doing so, you have developed a rudimentary method of replicating sakuradite, the theoretical stages of psionically-induced artificial levitation, and one of your scientists has discovered a population of sentient trees that the wayward pirate urchin you've taken in has taught to fly."
There is a long moment of silence before your father speaks again, his eyes opening to pierce you with a powerful and severe stare. "Have I properly recounted the information you have presented to me, Lelouch?"
You nod, refraining from gesturing at the tablet in his hands, replete with video files and pictures, and the numerous printed documents showing various evidence of your work. Doing so is unnecessary at this stage. "It is as you have said, Your Majesty."
There is another long round of silence as Charles nods with a grunt, turning his head downwards as he looks through the digital archive again and cross-references a few data points with the printed out information.
You resist the urge to shift anxiously in place.
Charles zi Britannia (Stewardship - Health): 86+??? = ??? (PASS)
In the interim of the Emperor's contemplative silence, your mother occasionally glances your way in a curiously detached manner as she reads over your father's shoulder. You very much cannot tell what either of your parents are thinking or feeling in this moment, which reduces your options to wait for a judgment instead.
In the end, Charles' gaze flicks up from the documents and locks back onto you for one final time. Then he speaks, but does not directly address you. "Anya. Summon Victor."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Anya replies, standing with a clack of boots on marble. There is the sound of an opening and closing door, then silence again.
"May I ask why you have decided to bring this to me years after your research began, nearly a decade in fact, and while I am currently infirmed?" Charles asks, passing the stack of papers and the data slate to your mother.
Lelouch vi Britannia (Diplomacy): 67+18+5 = 90 (PASS)
"I had thought it was the best possible time," you state bluntly.
The reply causes your father to blink, turning his head almost imperceptibly in curiosity. "Oh?"
"If His Majesty were to be angered by my decision to investigate subject matter which might become vital to the survival of the human race without alerting him, I felt that doing so while you were injured might at least give me a head start." You don't so much as allow your mouth to twitch, let alone twist into a grin, smirk, or other expression of mirth. For this to work, the delivery had to be perfectly deadpan. After all, if your encounter earlier with the press had confirmed one thing for you, it was that when faced with a question that had no good answer, there was only one recourse.
Don't answer it.
Charles' eyes widen in tandem with your mother's, the former of which lets out a loud bark of laughter and the latter a deep chuckle. Even Schneizel, off to the side, releases a subdued noise of amusement.
Still, the tension in the room is cut and your shoulders relax ever-so-slightly from their tense posture. Your father leans back, breathing out a long sigh as he nods at you. "I'll have you know that I could take you over my knee even in my current state, boy, and don't you forget it."
"Of course, sir," you nod deeply, the gesture almost a bow.
"Well Charles?" Your mother asks, turning to the bedridden man. "I suppose there's no other option than to read them in. Lelouch appears to know more than we do, or at least as much, at this juncture."
You blink, pushing away the vague feeling of surprise. Realistically, there was a strong possibility that your father knew something. After all, they apparently had a secret cadre of powerful psionics working in the OSI. If there were more artifacts like the one you'd found, and a simple exercise of logic would figure that where there is one there must be more, then they've probably come across others.
"To answer some of your questions," Charles begins, clearing his throat as he looks between you and Schneizel with a frown, "the Empire is roughly aware of the death of the previous dominant human civilization on this planet. There are - were - competing theories on exactly what happened, as solid proof of such ancient events are difficult to unearth. Normally, we have skilled archaeologists look over the personal collections of nobles. It appears that we will have to be more diligent in our evaluations."
The look on your father's face is very much one of displeasure, a clear signal that someone will enjoy the revelation of your knowledge far less than he did in this surprise reveal.
Schneizel quietly draws attention to himself with the movement of the tea platter, handing out cups and saucers to each of you, which you take gratefully. "Your Majesty, may I ask why the office of the Prime Minister is not alerted to such weighty matters?"
Charles sips at his cup, then snorts disdainfully. "And have some elected official demanding answers to suit their outsized sense of importance?"
Schneizel does not wince, but his expression does dim by a degree.
At least, before your mother jostles Charles with her elbow and the man rolls his eyes. "Even on the rare occasion an individual with moderately more important status occupies the position, though, the head of the OSI and the Directorate are jointly in charge of the investigations and the dissemination of the knowledge. To bring someone in who is not directly under their chain of command has, for some thirty-plus years now, required their mutual consent or my unilateral action."
You and your brother exchange a quick look, hearing the unspoken implication in conjunction with him. It was both a blessing and a curse that for all that Britannia pretended to be under the rule of an absolute monarch, the truth was much murkier and complicated. After all, it was difficult to retain loyal and capable personnel if one simply overruled them and disregarded their advice at every turn. Thus it was that 'absolute' authority was only to be used sparingly and when necessary.
Which meant two things. The first was that one, if not both, of these individuals protested informing Schneizel for some reason. The second was that they were so capable in their running of the institutions that they were sufficiently important for the Emperor to not simply be capable of overruling them unilaterally.
Which made them Very Important People.
"And what of my findings on the psionic technology?" You can't help but ask.
Charles shakes his head. "Truthfully, we've been focused on other matters." Marianne gives him an intent look and he rolls his eyes. "Very well. We've been focusing on repairing large devices they left behind in key positions around the world. We've taken to calling them Thought Elevators due to their ability to magnify the psionic potential of the individuals who use them."
You frown, your eyebrows furrowing as something itches at the back of your mind.
"The powers of which can then be applied in many and varied ways over large swathes of the planet Earth," Charles explains, looking at both you and Schneizel intently.
The latter's eyes widen slightly, his self-control too much to allow himself more than that. "I see." And, from the sound of it, he does see the wider implications for the Empire as a whole, but...
"Van-Rannen," you breathe, your mind unlocking some deeper part of memories that weren't entirely yours. "The Trees of Van-Rannen."
Charles' gaze reoriented on you intently. "A phrase to that effect has come up several times, Lelouch. Would you happen to have more information on the subject."
You blink rapidly as flashes of scenes roll over your mind's eye and you shake yourself as you reach up and massage your temples. You barely notice Marianne begin to rise, but held back by your father as you try to draw the information into a cohesive whole. "They were... defensive. We - they - used them to quell slave rebellions, stop natural disasters, and help with large-scale construction projects. They were only altered recently - right before they fell - to account for asteroid impacts."
You reach for more and the memories slip through your grasp like sand between your fingers.
You grimace, one final shred coming through. "I-I think... the ancestor... or teacher? The person who created the artifact, I think the person who taught them, or the person that taught that person might have been Van-Rannen."
That was the feeling you got, at least. Some kind of immense respect mixed in with a not-quite-familial closeness.
"Interesting, I will have to-" Charles begins thoughtfully, but is cut off as the door opens abruptly.
"I'm here Charlie, what's all this about-you." The golden-haired child with the posture and confidence of a grown man is exactly like Euphemia reported him, but-
The memories, so recently abated, come roaring back to the surface as a whirlwind of indistinct sensations flows through you. Your legs shake, your breath comes in quick gasps, a full-body quake of such immense sadness and relief that you can't help but release the choked sob that bubbles up.
'Victor,' whoever he is, has stilled so utterly he might as well be a statue, his face utterly ghost-white in the split-second after he finished his sentence. Some deep and abiding fear is writ large on his expression, the likes of which you can't help but understand. You... had been too focused on your parents, on the Emperor's judgment to feel him approach, and you wonder if he'd been distracted as well.
His psionic presence is like a lighthouse in a storm, shining through anything that would shield it from view in a near-equal to your own when caught unawares. It's doubtless this sensation which drives Crowley to his less-than-productive fits of worship.
"San-Rannen," the blonde-haired psionic whispers, tears springing from his eyes as the word is caught on misery and loss.
"Har-Lorren," you reply, smiling despite the tears streaming down your own cheeks.
In a moment, 'Victor' has crossed the room, sobbing uncontrollably as you wrap him in a tight embrace while you do the same.
…
Your mother is indulging in one of her rare fits of mother-henning and gently rubbing circles on your back after the... attack had finally faded. Interestingly, Victor is actually sitting on the edge of your father's bed, his hair coiled up like some kind of shield as your father stares at him with a kind of open concern you almost want to remark upon for its sheer alien quality on the mighty ruler's face.
Schneizel, pillar of etiquette and control that he is, has never seemed so at a loss save for this moment.
After a deeply embarrassing loss of control which has both you and Victor avoiding each other's gazes for the rest of the meeting, you clear your throat and refuse to look your parents or your brother in the eye either. "I-ah, apologize. I've, never-um, had quite that response before."
Victor coughs somewhat wetly, the clatter of fine porcelain telling you that he's taken a cleansing sip of tea. "I-it's fine. The... echoes of previous holders sometimes catch us off-guard."
"Holders?" You ask, shaking your head to try and clear it again. You take the cup of tea your mother offers mutely with a nod of thanks.
"You don't-" Victor begins in surprise, turning to you before abruptly turning back as a mutual thrum of recognition vibrates through your gaze again. "N-no, it doesn't feel as if it's complete. Of course. A fragment then. I can feel where it's broken. Ugh, it would be you, wouldn't it?"
"I think... the best thing to do right now would be to take a break," your mother suggests gently, looking between the two of you in concern, then towards Charles. "How about that, dear?"
Charles nods distractedly. "Yes, I don't think anything productive will be settled with all that's happened. Why don't you take Lelouch and get some food in the boy-s," He shifts his gaze to Schneizel at the last second and amends the noun with a plural.
A look of profound relief crosses Schneizel's face as he makes for the door. "Of course, Your Majesty, I would happily accompany Lady Marianne and Lelouch to the dining hall. Shall I send for something for you as well?"
Charles raises a hand to wave your brother off when you hear Victor mutter something under his breath. A look of fond exasperation crosses your father's face. "Two bowls of neapolitan ice cream with fudge and caramel, Schneizel."
If anything, your brother looks more awkwardly eager to leave as he accepts the command.
Still, as you walk through the halls of the palace, he claps you on your shoulder and you still for a moment under his gaze. "Before we go further, Lelouch... I wanted to thank you. You've... made me reconsider some things. I am afraid I won't have time for the meetings we had planned this year. It... seems I need to account for some gaps in my knowledge."
You're tempted to chuckle for the sheer enormity of the statement, but settle for nodding tiredly. What happened in that room burned you out emotionally like nothing you had ever felt before and it would take time to recover.
"I will say... if you ever have need of a favor, please reach out, brother," Schneizel offers at the end.
Results: Schneizel's SL Improves (+1), Victor ???'s SL Opens at (+1), Open up Further Personal, Learning, Piety, & Diplomacy Actions, No Penalty for Withholding Information From the Throne, ???
