I'm in another world, and I start out transformed into Lancelot.

"Then, Kururugi-sensei and I will take our leave now."

Euphemia curtsied slightly to Lelouch, her manners impeccable.

Her figure was bathed in a warm golden glow from the setting sun. Suzaku immediately resumed his guard knight stance, his movements displaying the crispness characteristic of Britannian soldiers.

"Hmm," Lelouch responded with a soft syllable, his face still displaying that impeccable gentleness. "Take care on the road, Euphemia, Suzaku-kun."

His gaze calmly watched the three depart—Euphemisma, still slightly tipsy, her steps carrying the weight of her ideals, and Suzaku Kururugi, faithfully guarding her side…

And the silver-haired guard who followed a few steps behind like a silent, icy shadow.

(Special Zone...the mystery of the silver hair...it seems all the troubles have piled up at once.) Silent thoughts settled beneath Lelouch's deep purple eyes.

By the time I returned to the heavily guarded annex of the Britannian governor's mansion, night had just begun to fall.

The elite guards on duty at the gate of the mansion stood like statues. They were the elite troops directly under Princess Cornelia's command, with eyes as sharp as eagles.

As Euphemia, dressed in casual clothes, and Suzaku Kururugi approached with the unfamiliar silver-haired knight, the captain of the guard's gaze instantly locked onto Melsin.

That cold demeanor, unusual hair color, and face with no records whatsoever were enough to trigger the highest level of vigilance!

The captain's hand silently pressed against the identification device on his waist. He stepped forward, but before he could utter his cold, businesslike words—

Suzaku, who had been quietly following by her side and held deep respect for Melsin in his heart, keenly sensed the tense atmosphere.

(Oh no! These are Princess Cornelia's elite troops...) His heart tightened, and he prepared to step forward to explain. But just then!

"Identity? We've only been gone for half a day." A clear, slightly casual female voice suddenly interrupted.

The silver-haired knight, the powerful, mysterious, and revered "fairy senior" Melusin in his heart, took a small half-step forward.

Those vertical pupils, flowing with amber-gold luster, swept subtly across the eyes of the guards before him.

In just a moment, the guard's newly formed aura of vigilance vanished as if blown away by a warm and gentle summer breeze.

A faint, hazy memory flashed through the minds of all team members simultaneously—this young lady?

Oh yes! She is one of Princess Euphemia's most trusted personal guard knights!

Didn't His Highness previously instruct her to be in charge of his personal security? How come I didn't recognize her just now?

The wariness about "silver hair" and "the unknown" vanished instantly, and the tense lines on the guard captain's face softened immediately.

His cold, sharp gaze transformed into a habitual, respectful subservience. He took a half-step back, his right hand resting on his chest.

She gave Meiluxin a standard military salute, as if she had always been one of the most familiar members of this Governor's Mansion villa.

"I'm so sorry! Please come in, Your Highness Euphemia, esteemed lords!" His voice no longer held any questioning or hesitation.

Melushin's lips curved into a smile that no one could see beneath her veil.

She stepped to the side, in an impeccable guarding posture, gently supporting Euphemia's arm, and entered the annex with perfect ease.

Her posture suggested that she had entered and exited this mansion a thousand times.

A chilling notification sound echoed deep within Melusin's consciousness regarding the compatibility level.

(Imprinting the illusion of distorted reality into the instinct of life...like drawing circles on the surface of water, the ripples haven't faded, but the trajectory is already there.)

A flicker of pure admiration for the technique itself flashed in the dragon fairy's amber-gold vertical pupils.

"Eh... Ah? Oh..." Euphemia was a little confused by the guard's sudden change in attitude.

Suzaku Kururugi, who had been closely watching Melishin, clearly saw the captain of the guard's transformation in that instant... from vigilance to habitual obedience.

Her emerald green eyes widened slightly, a pure, emotionless surprise flashing across them.

(What kind of technique is this? It's practically magic!)

But this surprise was quickly replaced by a deep respect and trust in the strong.

He recalled the azure light that ripped through the night on the battlefield, and the cold, slightly mocking "lesson" given in moments of despair.

I remembered the comforting moonlight she shone when she promised to bring me back.

(Though it's hard to understand, she never used it for anything bad! She saved everyone on the battlefield and protected Princess Euphemia!)

As long as she doesn't harm the innocent, she is a respectable senior and a powerful ally!

After gaining a clearer understanding, Suzaku's gaze towards Melusin's elegant profile was once again filled with pure friendliness and deeper admiration.

He followed closely on Euphemia's other side, both fulfilling his duty as a protector and seemingly wanting to get closer to this mysterious and powerful guardian.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The Governor's Mansion villa was brightly lit, blocking out the darkness outside the windows.

The atmosphere in the spacious reception room was heavy, like a layer of frozen ice.

The huge Britannian golden lion flag carpet in the center now seemed like an altar where a wildfire was about to be ignited.

Euphemia was dressed in a crisp military uniform, her back straight, but only she could feel the icy chill spreading through her veins from her fingertips.

Emily Clare, a senior reporter for Empire Television, had her camera like the eye of an abyss, silently aimed at her.

(Really... in front of all the citizens of Britannia) The tendrils of fear grew wildly, almost suffocating her...

Princess Cornelia's rebuke, Prince Xiuzanne's unfathomable smile, and countless invisible, cold gazes from high positions... all came crashing down through that lens!

Just as my heart was about to be crushed by fear, the boy's clear voice rang in my ears.

Euphemia jolted and turned her head. Suzaku Kururugi came into view, his emerald green eyes devoid of their usual sunshine or confusion.

Only a pure, unwavering loyalty and faith, burning like a raging fire. He needed no words; his resolute gaze, like a rock, shattered the vines that entangled her.

(Your path is where my sword will lead! I am here!) A warm current from loyal faith instantly dispelled the biting cold.

Almost without a discernible order, a cool and serene aura, like a mountain spring under the moon, gently enveloped her other side.

The silver-haired fairy knight, Melusin, moved forward half a step silently, flanking Suzaku on the left and right, like a majestic mountain range guarding the rising sun.

Her expression beneath the veil remained mysterious, but—Euphrates clearly "heard" a tranquil thought that seemed to come from the depths of an ancient forest.

Like a gentle stream, it seeped into her heart, frozen by fear: (Go, Euphemia. Release the fire within you.)

(The storms outside this stage, as far as my eyes can see, will not touch you in the slightest.)

This protection is not an arrogant promise, but rather a sanctuary for her to freely express her opinions!

Two completely different yet equally weighty silent guardians, like a vital elixir injected into the heart.

Euphemia took a deep breath, and her royal bloodline, which ran deep in her bones, suddenly awakened!

She suddenly raised her chin, and all the turmoil in her violet eyes evaporated instantly, tempering them into a light of determination as brilliant and unbreakable as a diamond.

Their gaze seemed to pierce through the cold walls and fall into a future built on equality and peace!

"Let's begin." Her voice cut through the deathly silence before the live broadcast with exceptional clarity.

The live broadcast lights suddenly flashed on! "Good evening, citizens of the Empire. I am the eleventh princess of the Empire, Euphemia R. Britannia..."

After a calm opening, a thunderbolt struck the heart of the Empire: "...I implore the Britannians and the people living in District 11..."

"Put down your swords, eliminate discrimination, and move forward hand in hand with an equal attitude!" Every word carries immense weight!

"...I have obtained permission from my elder brother, Emperor Xiuzenair, and hereby announce my ideal blueprint:" Her voice was like the dawn carrying billions of hopes:

"I am determined to establish a peaceful special zone called Japan, one that is unarmed, non-discriminatory, and where everyone is equal!"

The Name of Japan! Reborn through a deliberately erased timeline, under the declaration of the princess!

"To restore the glory of peace to this land ravaged by disaster! This is the dream that Euphemia R. Britannia will dedicate her life to realizing!"

[Live stream interrupted!] The cold, realistic notification abruptly cut off the feed!

Despite the live stream being abruptly cut off, Euphemia's face remained resolute.

A gentle, almost benevolent ripple, contrary to the ancient dragon memories, spread across the cold, inhuman lake of Melusin's consciousness in an extremely rare manner.

(So ​​brief, so fragile... yet such a dazzling light of life.)

Emily Claire, the reporter who had just finished her live broadcast, watched this heartwarming farewell scene unfold before her.

She then looked at the silver-haired guard who stood silently like an ice sculpture, whose temperament was becoming increasingly unfathomable. Beneath her professional expression, a deeper shock was settling in.

The seeds of a storm have been sown. The world line... has quietly shifted.

Chapter 20 The Arrogant Older Sister Worried Trouble for Euphemia

Euphemia's earth-shattering declaration was like a thunderbolt dropped into the heart of the Empire!

Cornelia Le Britannia, far away in another war zone, caught a glimpse of the words that haunted her dreams and instantly caused her blood pressure to spike in the few seconds of live footage before the signal was cut off—"Japan Special Administrative Region!"

"Clang!" The delicate bone china teacup was smashed from Cornelia's hand onto the table, and the scalding black tea splashed onto the pure white lace tablecloth, spreading like bloodstains.

In an instant, all the fragments that Schneizel had deliberately guided and concealed before pieced together. His suspiciously gentle smile that day, his "it's inconvenient to disturb Euphemia" gesture, Euphemia's elusive whereabouts... it was all for this moment!

(So ​​it was you! Schneizel! You were the one who pushed Euphemia onto this fiery altar!)

Anger surged within her like magma, threatening to burst through the princess's iron-fisted mask! Just as she grabbed the communicator, preparing to issue her most severe interrogation as governor—buzz! The encrypted communicator lit up on its own.

The screen reflected the face that, in her eyes, now seemed like a demon, yet still maintained an impeccably gentle smile. Schneizel Ei Britannia.

“Truly remarkable, Euphemia…” The elder brother in the video spoke, his voice as soft as a blade wrapped in velvet, so gentle it was almost suffocating, his lips remaining perfectly still. He had clearly also watched the replay. “Such a declaration that kills two birds with one stone…” Schneizel’s slender, elegant fingers swept across the screen, bringing up the strategic map of District 11, his fingertip precisely landing on the area occupied by the Black Knights.

"—The ethnic wounds and the oppressed stance upon which the resistance organizations in District 11 depend for survival will be completely undermined. Their foundation among the people will be shaken, their legitimacy will be shattered, and their demise will not be far off."

His tone was calm and clear, like the most learned professor explaining a theorem. "The security... also stabilized. It was a textbook example of winning without fighting. Yuffie surprised me with its efficiency."

The projected light points danced across his fingertips, each pause precisely corresponding to a "gain." Cornelia's tightly furrowed brows unconsciously relaxed slightly under his analysis of the pros and cons. These cold chains of logic were, too, the battlefield she, as governor, schemed day and night. But this relaxation did not dispel the heavy worry in her eyes.

"Personally—" Cornelia's voice remained as sharp as tempered steel, each word deliberate and clear, "I oppose this! The risks far outweigh the benefits!" Her gaze, sharp as a hawk's, pierced through the screen, striking directly at the one manipulating the game: "Who will guarantee Euphemia's safety? Her position will become the bullseye for all the old powers and new enemies!"

The smile on the other end of the screen didn't diminish at all. "However, my dear sister," Schneizel's fox-like eyes gleamed with a knowing light that seemed to see through everything, "it's precisely because you also understand the strategic value of this..." He paused at just the right moment, "...that's why you specially dispatched General Dalton to temporarily reinforce Euphemia's side and assist with defense just before you learned of my plan, right?"

"!" Schneizel's direct attack completely shattered Cornelia's defenses woven from iron-fisted logic! Caught in the act of publicly exposing the contradictory behavior of her "secret support" for her sister and her distrust of her brother's arrangements, Cornelia's facial muscles, hidden beneath her cold and authoritative demeanor, tensed instantly. But in just a second, the iron-fisted governor's hardness completely replaced any trace of her former self, her expression becoming impeccably calm.

“Of course.” Cornelia’s voice was cold and hard, like the clash of metal. “To put the nation’s policies on a stable track and to maintain the safety and stability of District 11 is a decision that it is only natural for a governor to make. Dalton’s resume and experience are very suitable to assist Euphemia in dealing with the chaotic situation.” She perfectly used the reason of her authority to cover up her personal motives.

A short, low chuckle escaped Schneizel's throat, like an ice bead rolling onto a jade plate. The laugh deepened, almost carrying a genuine hint of mockery, especially clear in his cunning fox-like eyes: "Tolerating even Yuffie's unorthodox remarks... is this also a stance taken under the guise of national policy, my dear Governor's sister?"

"..." Her little thoughts were completely seen through! Cornelia's usually cold and expressionless face finally twitched slightly! Although she immediately pursed her lips, the stiffness and evasive look in that instant betrayed the cracks beneath her strong mask.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Outside the Tokyo Concession, at the Black Knights' temporary headquarters. The narrow, secluded space was filled with a suffocating oppression, no longer the smell of war and smoke, but a bitter and bewildering sense of wavering faith.

The receiver in the corner was still replaying clips of Euphemia's earth-shattering live broadcast declaration. Her clear voice was like a carving knife, repeatedly scraping at the foundation of some people's beliefs.

"...Put down your swords, eliminate discrimination, and move forward hand in hand with an equal attitude!" "...Establish a peace special zone called Japan, which is unarmed, non-discriminatory, and where everyone is equal!"

"Tsk!" Yu Cheng slammed the switch shut in frustration, the jarring sound abruptly ceasing, but the echo of the declaration lingered in everyone's hearts.

“Unarmed? An equal zone? Are you kidding me!” He scratched his head in frustration, his eyes filled with the rage of being fooled. “Those damned Britannian swine will genuinely treat us equally? This is a complete scam! A trap! Zero! Say something!”

Fan sat on the cold iron barrel, his fingers unconsciously tapping his knees, his eyes blankly staring at the weeds stubbornly sprouting from the cracks in the ground. His voice was dry as he said, "...But...but what if it were true? Peace...no more hiding in the shadows, no more worrying about where tomorrow's bread will come from, no more watching my family live in constant fear..." His voice trailed off, filled with a longing for "stability" and a profound weariness. The eyes of the lower-ranking members around him also began to flicker.

"Baka!" Chiba's sharp gaze swept over the wavering crowd. "Shan! Put away your pathetic thoughts! What do our blood matter? What do our fallen comrades matter? Peace obtained by groveling before Britannia? That's just loosening the invisible chains around our necks a little in a different place!"

“But… that’s officially recognized…” a young voice weakly rang out, immediately drowned out by the gazes of others, but the wavering it represented was real.

"Lord Toudou..." someone looked pleadingly at the silent imperial traitor leaning against the wall.

Todo Kyoshiro stood like a silent statue, the medals on his military uniform jacket reflecting the dim light. He slowly raised his head, his gaze behind his glasses sharp yet fixed: "A Japan bestowed with the name of grace by the enemy… this is the greatest test of our soldiers' minds." His voice was heavy as lead, "To accept… is to suffer a complete spiritual collapse. To refuse…" He glanced around at the faces crushed by the pressure of survival, "This hard-won hope of peace… who can bear it?"

A low murmur, like the buzzing of mosquitoes, rose up, filled with unease, doubt, longing, and resentment. The once steadfast worship of "Zero" began to crack subtly and fatally in the face of Euphemia's alluring vision of peace.

"Trusting the Empire... is not as good as trusting Zero..." "But survival is also important..." "Are we going to fight underground guerrilla warfare for the rest of our lives?"

The core members turned their attention to the figure at the front, who wore a dark cloak and remained silent behind a strange mask.

Chapter 21 Melusin's Concerns (Part 1)

As the night deepened and all was quiet, the lights and voices of the Governor's Mansion villa finally fell completely silent, as if a giant beast had sunk into a deep sleep.

Inside the system space, the flow of time also becomes viscous and slow.

The silver-haired dragon fairy lay reclining deep in the sofa, her slender legs casually draped over the armrests, her toes slightly pointed as she dangled in mid-air. Her vertical pupils, shimmering with amber-gold light, were unfocused, staring blankly at a point that didn't exist in the void. Only her legs, resting on the armrests, swayed gently at a strange, almost rhythmic frequency, one sway after another, silently proclaiming that she was falling—or rather, attempting to fall—into a deep sea of ​​thoughts.