Hangar Bay, Constitutional Authority-class Super Dreadnought

Dressed in his Ronin Vindicator persona, Xavier Salvador stood in the vast hangar bay, his face concealed behind a mask. He adjusted his hat, waiting patiently for Princess Euphemia's arrival. The sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention, and he turned to see her escorted by two Salvatian marines, with Frieda walking beside her.

"Ah, Euphemia. Nice to see you again," Ronin Vindicator greeted her with a nod.

Euphemia regarded him with mild surprise. "Ronin Vindicator. I didn't expect to see you here. I take it you're with these people, then?"

"You could say that," he replied. "But just to be clear, I'm only here because the Supreme Sovereign requested my assistance to carry out his plan. I assume he's provided you with everything you need?"

"That's correct," Euphemia confirmed, her voice measured.

Frieda stepped forward, her tone firm. "Ronin, by the order of the Supreme Sovereign, I want you to escort Her Highness back to the Viceroy's Palace. But be cautious—if you encounter any Britannians, especially the Glinda Knights..."

Ronin Vindicator inclined his head slightly. "Understood. But know this—whatever I do will be justified, no matter how much blood must be spilled."

Euphemia flinched at his words. Though she held no illusions about the war, the thought of her own people being slaughtered by him unsettled her. Yet, she remained silent.

Frieda acknowledged his resolve. "I understand. Take care, Your Highness, and thank you for cooperating with us. Rest assured, the war in your world will soon come to an end."

Euphemia nodded. Without another word, she followed Ronin Vindicator as he raised a hand, summoning a swirling portal before them. Her eyes widened in shock—so he possessed such power?

With a final glance at Frieda and the marines, Euphemia stepped into the portal alongside Ronin Vindicator. As soon as they vanished, the portal collapsed in on itself, disappearing without a trace.

Frieda exhaled softly, then turned on her heel. "Let's move," she instructed the marines, and together, they left the hangar bay.

...

Nighttime

Viceroy Palace, Area 11

The halls of the Viceroy Palace in Area 11 were quiet, save for the low murmur of voices and the distant hum of machinery. Within its pristine walls, Suzaku Kururugi walked with purpose. Assigned by Camelot—more formally known as ASEEC—he had come to contribute to the ongoing research and development of Lancelot. They planned to improve its performance in the event they ever encountered unknown adversaries, particularly the enigmatic Salvatian forces that have appeared in the Shinjuku Ghetto from that day.

As he moved through the corridors, he remained focused, though he couldn't ignore the hushed voices questioning the presence of an Eleven within these revered walls. But Suzaku knew better than to let such prejudice rattle him. For now, he was a vital asset, and he believed firmly that change could be achieved from within. If he could rise through the ranks, perhaps he could shape a future where his people—the Japanese, now reduced to "Numbers"—might live with dignity within the Holy Britannian Empire.

Unaware of the suffering his people endured in the ghettos—disease, discrimination, and despair—Suzaku pressed on. He was on his way to meet Lloyd and Cecile when a figure stepped into his path. A woman in regal armor stood before him, her presence both commanding and unyielding.

Nonette Enneagram, one of the Knights of the Round.

"Ah, you must be Suzaku Kururugi, I presume?" she said, a knowing smirk on her face.

"Um... Yeah?" Suzaku replied, caught slightly off-guard.

Nonette stepped closer, studying him with a tilted head.

"I see you've climbed quite far despite being an Eleven."

"I joined the military to make a difference," he answered, his voice steady. "I believe that change must come from within the system. Only then can we move past the hatred and find a way to coexist."

"Is that so?" she mused, her tone unreadable. "Interesting thoughts, Kururugi. However..."

Suzaku blinked. "Huh?"

"Trying to change the empire from within is... let's say, difficult. Nobles and even imperial family members may oppose you, and the Emperor's decrees are absolute."

"That's exactly why I have to try. If I can earn their trust—perhaps even reach the Emperor himself—then maybe the Japanese can be accepted as part of the system."

Nonette studied him for a moment, then nodded faintly. "I see. But know this, Suzaku Kururugi, the road you've chosen is not only difficult—it's nearly impossible. As long as His Majesty dictates otherwise, your ideals will be challenged at every turn."

"Then I'll prove him wrong. I'll prove them all wrong," Suzaku said, his voice brimming with conviction. "I'll earn their trust, no matter what it takes. I still believe that reform is possible—even within this empire."

His unwavering determination caught her off guard. In his eyes, she saw the spark of someone stubbornly clinging to hope—even at the cost of his life.

"If that's truly what you believe," Nonette said, stepping aside, "I won't stop you."

She walked past him, but before turning the corner, she glanced back.

"If you're determined to change things from within, then survive long enough to see it through. I'd like to see the results with my own eyes."

With that, she disappeared down the hall, leaving Suzaku momentarily stunned by her words. A small smile formed on his lips. He felt a renewed strength to push forward.

Before he could continue, a new group approached from the opposite direction—the Glinda Knights. Among them were Leonhardt Steiner, Tink Lockhart, Sokkia Sherpa, Toto Thompson, and the newest recruit, Marika Soresi, younger sister of the disgraced Kewell Soresi, once a member of the Pureblood faction now under Cornelia's command for redemption.

They were chatting casually when they spotted Suzaku.

"Halt," Steiner said, his gaze sharp. "You must be Suzaku Kururugi, the Lancelot pilot?"

"Yes. And you're the Glinda Knights, I take it?" Suzaku replied.

Tink Lockhart nodded. "Indeed. Glad you know us."

"I've studied a bit of your unit's history," Suzaku said. "A counterterrorism and search-and-destroy unit. It's an honor."

"No need for honor," Tink waved it off. "We're just doing our duty."

He gestured to the others. "I'm Tink Lockhart, and this is Leonhardt Steiner. We're both commanders and frontline operatives. Over there is Sokkia Sherpa, our tactical and intel officer. Toto Thompson pilots our airship, the Grandberry. And this here," he said, motioning to the girl beside them, "is our newest knightmare pilot, Marika Soresi."

Toto approached first. "Nice to meet you, Suzaku Kururugi."

"Likewise," he replied with a nod.

Then Marika stepped forward.

"I heard from my brother that you were once suspected in the disappearance of Prince Clovis, during the Shinjuku incident."

"Your brother...?"

"Kewell Soresi. You may not have met him properly. I trained at the academy here in Area 11, graduated with honors, and was a test pilot before being assigned to Glinda Knights. My brother... he failed his duty. He and his comrades disgraced the Purebloods, and now they answer to Princesses Cornelia and Marrybell."

Suzaku's eyes widened slightly at the revelation, but he kept his composure.

"You've handled yourself well despite your status," Steiner said, eyeing him critically.

"I do what I believe is right," Suzaku replied.

"Is that so?" Steiner raised an eyebrow, only for Sokkia to lightly elbow him.

"Easy there, Leonhardt. The guy's just doing his job."

She turned to Suzaku with a smile. "Don't mind him. He gets intense."

"Oh—no problem," Suzaku said, slightly unsure.

"So," Toto asked, "where are you off to?"

"I'm supposed to meet Lloyd and Miss Cecile. But I also have a report to deliver to Princess Marrybell—unfortunately, we've found no leads on Princess Euphemia or Ronin Vindicator."

"Oh, they're on the rooftop," Sokkia said. "The garden up there. Her Highness, along with Oldrin Zevon, went to that place."

"I see. Then I'll head there now."

"Actually," Tink offered, "why not go together?"

"You're serious?"

Sokkia shrugged. "We've been looking for them too. Nothing else to do, so... yeah, we're coming with you."

Marika added, "Besides, if Ronin Vindicator does appear, we need to be ready. From what I've read, he's elusive—hard to pin down."

"And deadly," Suzaku muttered. "He doesn't hesitate to kill. His justification... never sat right with me."

"Then what are we waiting for, Warrant Officer Kururugi?" Steiner said with a grin. "Let's go."

Together, they made their way down the corridor toward the rooftop garden, unaware that they were not alone—and that an unexpected guest had already slipped inside.

...

The portal shimmered open above the viceroy's palace, casting a pale light onto the palace gardens below. From within its glowing frame, Ronin Vindicator and Euphemia stepped into the tranquil garden, the portal sealing shut behind them with a low hum.

Euphemia took in the familiar scenery—the garden she and her sister once frequented. A gentle breeze rustled the flowers as she drew a deep breath, then turned to face her masked companion.

"Thank you for bringing me here," she said softly. "It's incredible how quickly we arrived... with that kind of power."

Ronin Vindicator gave a slight nod, his voice calm and veiled in mystery. "I've kept my true capabilities hidden from the world. No one knows what I'm truly capable of—unless I choose to reveal it."

There was a subtle chill to his tone, despite the warm surroundings.

"Anyway," he continued, "I expect Cornelia will return tomorrow morning after her campaign against the EU forces in Egypt. It's best we act before then."

Euphemia let out a heavy sigh, her gaze uncertain. "Are we seriously going through with this?"

"You heard him," Ronin replied. "It's safer if everyone believes you were unconscious. You still have the device he gave you, right?"

In response, Euphemia reached into her pocket and pulled out a sleek, futuristic tablet no larger than her palm. Its sci-fi design glinted under the sunlight before she tucked it away again.

"Good," Ronin said, his eyes scanning the area. "Let's move to that stone bench."

They walked to a small grassy hill surrounded by blooming flowers. At its peak sat a weathered stone bench, nestled beneath a low-hanging tree. Euphemia sat down slowly, her hands folded in her lap.

"Okay... I'm ready," she whispered. "How long will the sedative last?"

"Eleven minutes," he replied.

"Eleven minutes?" she repeated, eyes widening.

"Yes. The Salvatians designed it to be slow-acting, but effective. You should be thankful for that."

"...I see," she murmured. "Very well. Please proceed."

She laid back gently on the bench, her expression serene. Ronin approached, pulling out a handkerchief laced with the sedative. He pressed it to her mouth and nose, and she inhaled the drug's scent. Her eyelids fluttered, then slowly shut as sleep overcame her. Once she was fully unconscious, Ronin carefully folded her hands atop her chest, then turned to leave.

But he froze.

A presence.

He could feel it—someone was behind him, weapon drawn and aimed with deadly precision.

"I know you're there," he said calmly, turning around.

Standing just a few paces away was Oldrin at the distance, pistol trained on him. Emerging from the shadows beside her came Princess Marrybell mel Britannia, regal as ever in her royal attire, her expression unreadable.

Ronin Vindicator narrowed his eyes behind the mask.

'They're here. But judging by their timing... they must've arrived after Euphemia was sedated. Good. That means they didn't heard our conversation.'

Marrybell stepped forward, her eyes briefly drifting to Euphemia's still form on the bench.

"So, this is our first time meeting face to face," she said with a calm, pleasant smile. There was no venom in her voice—only cool confidence. "I see my sister is unconscious. What did you do to her?"

Ronin smirked beneath his mask. "Princess Marrybell mel Britannia—leader of the Glinda Knights. Yet Cornelia is nowhere to be found when Euphemia needs her most. How pathetic."

"Quiet," Oldrin snapped. "Don't move!"

Marrybell raised her hand, signaling Oldrin to hold her position—though her pistol remained aimed.

"For a masked ronin hiding behind shadows and dark clothing, you've committed some serious crimes," Marrybell said coldly. "You're responsible for Clovis's death. You harmed Cornelia during your confrontation. And worst of all—you kidnapped Euphemia during the Lake Kawaguchi incident."

Her voice remained even, but her words were sharp, each one carrying weight.

"So I'll ask this once: surrender. End your so-called crusade."

Ronin chuckled. "Just you and your loyal subordinate? That's all?"

Marrybell shook her head. "No. That's why I brought backup."

At her signal, Britannian soldiers emerged from both sides, forming a circle around him, weapons aimed in perfect synchronization.

"You are surrounded," she declared. "Surrender now and face justice. Tell me—who are you behind that mask? An Eleven? A Britannian?"

"My nationality is irrelevant," Ronin replied coolly. "If you want to know who I am... you'll have to tear off this mask yourself."

"So be it," Marrybell said. "Oldrin."

"Understood."

Oldrin advanced cautiously, weapon steady.

"You're loyal to her, aren't you?" Ronin said with a smirk.

"Be quiet," Oldrin snapped.

"Sadly, I can't do that. And you've underestimated me."

"Big talk for a masked shadow. Now raise your hands. Now!"

Ronin's smirk widened. "Oh, ho ho... you really have no idea what I'm capable of."

In a flash, he moved. Grabbing Oldrin's arm, he twisted it with brutal efficiency, forcing her to drop the pistol. He followed up with a swift punch to her torso, then a powerful kick that sent her tumbling backward.

"Oldrin!" Marrybell rushed to her side.

"Open fire!" a soldier shouted.

Gunfire erupted.

But Ronin Vindicator was already moving—faster than any of them could track. Bullets tore through the air, missing by inches. He darted to the right flank, drawing his enchanted Hōfuku VT9 high-frequency katana in a single, fluid motion.

The first soldier didn't even have time to scream before the blade cut him down. Then the next. And the next.

They fired in desperation, but Ronin evaded every shot, his blade a streak of violet steel in the light.

The shadows of the garden turned crimson.

...

Suzaku and the Glinda Knights members were only moments away from reaching Princess Marrybell's location when the sharp crack of gunfire echoed through the palace, followed by distant screams.

Toto's steps faltered, fear creeping into her voice. "W-What is that sound?"

Suzaku froze for a brief second, eyes narrowing. "That's... gunfire."

Sokkia's eyes widened in horror. "Then that means—" she gasped, clutching her chest. "Princess Marrybell is in danger!"

"What?!" Leonhardt exclaimed, his expression turning grim. "We have to move—now!"

Without another word, the group broke into a full sprint, racing down the ornate hallway and up the staircase toward the rooftop garden of the Viceroy Palace.

...

Back in the garden, Britannian soldiers fell like wheat to a scythe. They never stood a chance. Ronin Vindicator moved like a force of nature, his strikes a blur of death and steel. Bodies dropped in his wake, lifeless, silent. Three more soldiers charged him in desperation—only for their heads to be severed in a blink by his enchanted, high-frequency katana. It was a massacre.

As the last enemy collapsed, Ronin turned his gaze toward Marrybell, who was kneeling beside Oldrin's unconscious form. The noble knight had been struck down by his earlier assault, and only now was beginning to stir.

Ronin started toward them.

Suddenly, three Britannian VTOL gunships thundered into view overhead, weapons locked onto him from above.

"We've got him now. Open—" the lead pilot began.

But the sentence never finished. Ronin Vindicator raised his hand, and with a burst of telekinetic might, he seized the aircraft in mid-air. They collided violently, erupting into fiery wreckage that rained from the sky. The threat neutralized, he resumed his approach.

Marrybell looked relieved as Oldrin began to rouse. But their relief vanished the moment they saw him coming—his katana still gleaming red, gripped tight in his hand.

"Your Highness, run!" Oldrin cried, pushing herself up. "I'll stop him!"

"No! Don't!" Marrybell shouted.

But Oldrin had already drawn her sword and charged. She swung with precision—but Ronin was faster. His blade cleaved through hers, snapping it clean in two. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"No way... How can he—"

She couldn't finish. Ronin's foot crashed into her face, sending her flying across the courtyard. She landed hard and didn't get up.

"Oldrin, no!" Marrybell screamed.

Ronin Vindicator stepped closer to the princess, who now lay vulnerable on the ground. She scrambled backward and activated her Geass, the crimson sigil flaring in her left eye.

"By the order of my Geass... stop at once!"

But nothing happened.

Ronin didn't falter. His body didn't even twitch.

Her Geass had failed.

"You really thought that'd work on me?" he said, smirking beneath his mask. "You're trying to influence someone who's evolved far beyond your petty mind tricks."

She clutched her head as a psychic attack struck her mind. Pain exploded behind her eyes—agony so sharp it made her scream.

"Nice try, Princess. But your Geass isn't very efficient. Maybe you've had symptoms I never knew about?"

Sarcasm dripped from his voice. Then he placed his hand over her left eye.

"Time to fix that."

Using his ability—Boundless Power Eraser—Ronin wiped her Geass from existence. Marrybell screamed as her power was torn away from her very soul. When it was over, she collapsed, unconscious.

Moments later, the Suzaku and the Glinda Knights arrived.

But they were too late.

They saw the carnage: mutilated soldiers, blood painting the garden like a grotesque mural. Sokkia ran toward Oldrin's crumpled form, panic etched into her face.

"Oldrin!"

"I'll help her!" Toto shouted.

She rushed forward—only to be intercepted. Ronin's speed was inhuman. He appeared in front of her, lifted her effortlessly by her clothes, and stared into her eyes. Her breath caught, terror blooming within.

"No... It's him. The Ronin Vindicator..."

Without a word, he placed his hand on her face, erasing her Geass just as he had Marrybell's. Her scream echoed through the garden.

"Toto!" Suzaku shouted, charging at Ronin.

But Ronin sensed the incoming threat. He hurled Toto aside just as Suzaku launched a flying kick. The attack missed as Ronin gracefully evaded it, sliding back.

Suzaku landed in a crouch, glaring at him. His eyes darted to Euphemia lying unconscious on a bench and Marrybell on the ground, unmoving. Fury twisted his features.

"You! What did you do to them?!"

"They're alive," Ronin replied coolly. "Not a scratch on them."

Suzaku clenched his fists. "You'll pay for trying to kidnap Princess Euphemia that night! That was deceitful!"

"Deceitful?" Ronin laughed. "You're delusional, Suzaku. Still clinging to your pretty ideals while ignoring the truth. Do you even see what the Britannians do to the ghettos? Or are you too busy pretending?"

Then he leaned forward.

"And I know what you did. No... I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about your father."

The words struck Suzaku like a bolt of lightning. He froze.

Leonhardt charged, roaring with fury. His sword met Ronin's katana—but his blade shattered instantly, just like Oldrin's.

How? he thought. That blade should've blocked him, but he—

Before he could finish the thought, Ronin grabbed his face and slammed it into the ground, then hurled him into Sokkia. Both were knocked out cold.

Marika Soresi, Tink Lockhart, and Suzaku—regaining his senses—closed in for close combat.

Ronin Vindicator sheathed his katana. He didn't need it now.

Tink struck first, launching a heavy punch. Ronin caught his fist mid-swing. The two locked in a test of strength—but Tink faltered. His cybernetically enhanced body trembled under Ronin's raw power.

How? Tink thought. I'm running 30% capacity... but he's still stronger than me!

Ronin punched him square in the face, sending him crashing to the ground—unconscious.

Marika came next, drawing her pistol and firing.

Ronin closed the distance in an instant, grabbed her arm, and drove his fist into her chest. She flew backward, her body crumpling in agony. She wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.

The battlefield fell silent. Now, only Suzaku and Ronin Vindicator stood facing one another, poised in their fighting stances, separated by a ruined stretch of the garden. Suzaku held his glare, maintaining a calm composure. Ronin Vindicator, equally still, exuded the focus of a seasoned warrior—disciplined and unshaken.

Two ideals clashed in silence.

Suzaku remained quiet, his body coiled like a spring, as if waiting for the moment to strike. Ronin, on the other hand, finally spoke.

"Just you and me now," Ronin said coldly. "To be honest, I would've killed you the moment I met you. Instead, I rescued you for my own reason. Funny, isn't it? But there's a reason you're still breathing—even if you're too stubborn to see it."

Suzaku said nothing, eyes locked on his opponent.

"I did some digging," Ronin continued. "Studied your history. And I know what really happened back then. Tell me—was it suicide that took your father? Or did you kill him... just to save your sorry skin?"

Suzaku's eyes widened. He gasped.

Ronin smirked darkly behind his mask. "Ah, so it's true. You gasped. That says enough."

He began circling slowly, recounting the story like an executioner reading a sentence. "When the Britannians invaded Japan, your father refused to surrender. Chose to resist, even though every stronghold had fallen. But you, the idealistic little son, wanted peace. Begged him to stand down."

"Stop..." Suzaku muttered, his voice shaking.

"He refused. So you grabbed a knife—"

"Stop!"

"—and you rushed him—"

"I SAID STOP!"

"—and plunged it into his chest."

"ENOUGH!"

With a roar of rage, Suzaku lunged at Ronin, unleashing a flurry of martial arts strikes—kicks spinning through the air with deadly precision. Ronin evaded with supernatural speed, slipping around every blow, never missing a step.

All the while, he continued speaking.

"And now you serve the same empire that crushed your people. Your nation. You think you can reform Britannia from within? Change a system that thrives on oppression? The emperor and his family—aside from Euphemia—they'll never accept your vision. They only see you as an Eleven. Just another pawn."

"Shut up!"

Suzaku's attacks became more aggressive, driven by rage rather than focus. Ronin dodged every strike with effortless grace, then spoke again—calmly, yet with a cruel edge.

"You don't want justice. You want punishment. You want to die... to redeem your sins. But from where I stand, you're pathetic. And that makes me laugh."

The words broke Suzaku's restraint. He let out a furious roar and launched into a relentless assault. But Ronin, patient and precise, saw his moment. He struck—blows to the torso, knees, shoulders—each one deliberate, merciless. Suzaku staggered.

As Suzaku swung with a desperate roundhouse kick, Ronin caught his leg midair and slammed him into the ground with bone-crushing force.

He could have killed him then and there. But Ronin chose to let him suffer.

Suzaku groaned, coughing blood, his body trembling as he tried to rise.

"Get up, coward," Ronin snarled. "You can do better than that."

Suzaku pushed himself up, drawing on the last of his strength. With trained precision, he launched a technique taught by Tohdoh himself—his fingers striking toward pressure points designed to paralyze.

But Ronin was faster.

He caught Suzaku's arm, twisted it savagely. A scream escaped Suzaku's lips. Then came a brutal punch to the face, sending him skidding across the ground like a broken doll.

Bruised, bloodied, his vision blurring, Suzaku barely turned his head. He saw Ronin approach, the figure towering over him like a shadow.

"Of all people," Ronin said bitterly, "the Japanese deserve to reclaim their national identity. But you? You're not one of them. You don't deserve it. You deserve to be called an Eleven."

With that final insult, Suzaku's head slumped to the side. Unconscious.

Ronin slowly drew his magnum pistol and aimed it at Suzaku lying there unconcious. For a long moment, he stood there.

But he didn't pull the trigger.

With a quiet breath, he holstered the weapon.

Then, movement.

A squad of Britannian soldiers burst into the garden. An officer raised his pistol. "You! You'll pay for your transgressi—"

Ronin snapped his fingers.

In a sickening instant, every soldier's head exploded like popped balloons. Their bodies collapsed like puppets with their strings cut.

"Fools," Ronin muttered.

Without another word, he vanished—teleporting away from this place, leaving behind only destruction.

Suzaku lay unconscious among the wreckage, broken. Around him, the bodies of Britannian soldiers littered the ground. Silence reigned over them and Ronin Vindicator has striked again.

...

Euphemia's bedroom, Viceroy Palace

Euphemia jolted awake, her breath catching in her throat. Her body trembled slightly as the effects of the sedative wore off. Slowly, she sat up in bed, her violet eyes scanning the room. Familiar. It was her own bedroom. A sigh of relief escaped her lips — at least part of the plan had worked.

Just then, the door creaked open.

Marrybell stepped in, now dressed in clean royal attire. Her previous outfit had been ruined due to her direct encounter with Ronin Vindicator.

"Marrybell!" Euphemia exclaimed, relief blooming in her voice.

Her sister smiled softly. "Hi, Euphemia. I'm so glad you're safe."

The two embraced tightly, the shared warmth grounding them both in the aftermath of the chaos. Marrybell then took a seat at the edge of the bed, concern shadowing her features.

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently. "Did he hurt you?"

Euphemia shook her head. "No... not at all. He never harmed me when he took me. Why?"

Marrybell lowered her gaze, sorrow darkening her expression before she met her sister's eyes again.

"Euphie... when Oldrin and I went to the garden, we found you lying on a stone bench. Then... I saw him. Ronin Vindicator. Your kidnapper."

"Oh..." Euphemia murmured, a sinking dread beginning to stir.

"We had him surrounded. I thought we could finally bring him to justice," Marrybell continued, voice trembling. "But his cunning... his terrifying skills... they overwhelmed my captain. My soldiers—" Her voice cracked. "They were slaughtered."

A cold shiver ran down Euphemia's spine. Her heart pounded as she imagined the scene. She swallowed hard, listening as her sister went on.

"Oldrin tried to take him on. She fought bravely, but... he defeated her too. And then... he did something to me."

Euphemia leaned forward, alarmed. "What did he do?"

"I'm not sure," Marrybell admitted, shaking her head. "All I remember is a sudden, sharp pain in my head... then he placed his hand over my eye... and everything went black. I screamed... and passed out."

Her voice wavered as she struggled to keep her composure.

"When I came to, I discovered something that shook me to my core," she whispered. "My Glinda Knights... and Suzaku..."

"Suzaku?!" Euphemia gasped, clutching at the sheets. "What happened to him? Please... tell me!"

Marrybell hesitated, clearly pained. "They're... hospitalized. All of them. Ronin Vindicator defeated them — even Suzaku. His injuries are severe. He's covered in bruises, his body barely holding together. Thankfully, Nonette arrived and brought us to safety. She got us to the recovery room. I woke up first... the others are still unconscious. But they're stable. I just hope they'll recover soon."

Placing her hand over her heart, Marrybell took a deep breath. Euphemia exhaled, a shaky sigh of relief slipping through her lips. Even so, it was hard to imagine Ronin Vindicator — someone she'd spent time with — causing such actions.

"I'm just glad you're alright," Marrybell said after a moment. "You're safe now. That masked madman can't hurt you anymore... though the damage he caused... the lives he took... my soldiers..."

She paused, the weight of it all pressing down on her shoulders.

"Cornelia will be happy to know you're safe. She's returning soon from her campaign."

Euphemia nodded, trying to offer a small smile. "I'm happy to hear that. I want to ease her heart — she worries too much."

Marrybell smiled faintly. "She does."

After a pause, she stood.

"Now, I need to begin the official report on everything that happened... our encounter with Ronin Vindicator. He's no ordinary enemy. He's more dangerous than Zero and the Black Knights combined. I only hope we can bring him to justice... and end this terrifying crusade he's waging on Area 11."

Euphemia nodded again. "I understand. I'll be fine here. Go do what you need to."

"Alright. Rest, Euphie. I'm glad you're unharmed... We don't yet know the full extent of what damage he's planning, but one thing's for certain — he's shaken the balance. Something tells me this is only the beginning."

With that, Marrybell turned and quietly exited the room.

Alone once more, Euphemia reached into her pocket and retrieved a small, sleek tablet — a futuristic device, gifted to her by Xavier Salvador. As her fingers brushed the screen, she recalled his teachings... the words he had shared... the vision he planted within her. A vision to reshape the world.

She let out a long, conflicted sigh.

There was no turning back.

Even now, guilt gnawed at her heart — guilt for the betrayal she knew she was about to commit. Cornelia, Marrybell, Suzaku... They had always stood by her. And now... she would stand against them.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, pressing the tablet to her chest. "Cornelia... Marrybell... Suzaku... I'm so sorry. But I'm willing to risk everything to bring change — real change — to this world. Even if it means... becoming your enemy."

Her voice quivered, tears pricking her eyes. The pain in her chest was real. Heavy.

Yet even so, her resolve remained firm.

No matter what came next... she would walk the path Xavier had shown her.

Even if it meant walking it alone.