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

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.

"Princess Euphemia made such a dashing declaration, it was like lighting the only bonfire in the eternal night..."

A small red orb representing the system floated cautiously over and hovered at the edge of Melusin's line of sight. The voice it simulated was filled with pure confusion, and the frequency of its aura's flickering was extremely low, as if afraid of disturbing her contemplation.

Why do you still seem...unhappy?

Its questions were like pebbles thrown into a deep pool; its legs continued to swing rhythmically, showing no sign of being interrupted.

Melusin's eyes moved extremely slowly, her cold, vertical pupils fixing their focus on the disturbing red light. That single glance carried an invisible weight of ancient dragonhood. "Only the first stage is complete."

Her voice, like the moonlight itself, was clear and calm, showing no sign of joy at the smooth progress of the mission.

"Huh?" The halo of light in the sphere suddenly brightened. "A stage? Oh! You mean the next key... node?"

It immediately adopted a serious, procedural tone, tinged with the urgency of dealing with a "major event": "Lelouch Lamperouge, the Geass is at risk of going out of control, ultimately triggering the Euphemia tragedy chain! Is this it?"

Its light flickered rapidly and steadily: "But this is a known, clearly defined dangerous variable! All we need to do is forcibly isolate Euphemia's entity from Lelouch's entity in physical space before that absolute point in time!"

The logic of the light sphere was exceptionally clear: "Through spatial jumps, dimensional rift blockades, or even your direct instantaneous physical displacement—we have sufficient contingency plans to ensure the safety of the target entity! There shouldn't be any technical difficulties! You must have calculated it too! Could it be... that there are still potential variables that haven't been fully considered?"

"Tap." A very faint squeaking sound, caused by the deformation of the soft leather.

Melusin's rhythmically swaying legs paused subtly, clearly conveying a sense of being disturbed by some kind of thought.

“...It’s not because of that…” she murmured, the last syllable fading away like a sigh.

The "physical isolation" proposed by the light sphere was, in her vast knowledge, as certain as 1+1=2. But that was by no means the source of the trouble.

A series of starkly contrasting images were playing out repeatedly in her mind. On one hand, there was the pure flame flickering in Euphemia's eyes as she handed over the brooch under the bright sunlight, and Suzaku's desperate, burning loyalty as he accepted the oath… On the other hand, there was her former queen (Morgan) in another crumbling “end,” sitting on a cold jade throne, using every means to solidify a false starlight. That crystal coffin-like throne, like an indelible brand from the past, hung heavily over her thoughts.

This fleeting yet brilliant sprout called "ideal"... is merely a means of isolation to prevent it from being tainted by bloodshed in a specific place. In her view, it is nothing more than removing the most brutal scythe, yet it still does not change the inherent fate of its roots withering away.

“How awful…” Melsin (Harunia)’s vertical pupils, flowing with amber-gold luster, slowly and very slightly lowered. The sigh was ambiguous, sounding both like a cold judgment of the world and a whisper about her own delicate state at that moment.

As her compatibility steadily increased, a deeper, more inescapable connection was forming. It not only granted her greater power and a complete form, but also seemed to forcefully open several tiny cracks in her consciousness. Fragments of memories belonging to the true "Lancelot (Melsen)," settled within the Throne of Heroes, and the lingering emotional echoes intertwined with them, seeped in uncontrollably, like deep-sea oil slicks. Those images—the solitary silhouette of another queen (Morgan), the chill emanating from the icy throne at the edge of Lostbelt, the fragments of obsessive longing that attempted to freeze a moment but ultimately failed—flashed in her mind's eye like persistent nightmares, appearing suddenly in the gaps between her moments of concentration.

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.

Melusin's thoughts were still immersed in the subtle irritation caused by "memory contamination." She even unconsciously stopped shaking her ankles, simply lowering her eyes and remaining silent.

Just then—a voice, absolutely not a physical entity, like moonlight piercing through countless crystal prisms, flowed into the system space without warning, ethereal and otherworldly: "Hmm... so that our little Yuffie's ideal world can have fewer thorns and more smooth paths..."

The sound was like a blend of the whispers of wind and stars, filled with an echoing quality that seemed to transcend the physical world.

"...I also made some extra little arrangements and gave a 'special' gift to a specific person!"

"...Huh?" The sudden sound made Melusin instantly lift her eyelids. Her vertical pupils, flowing with amber gold, contracted sharply, scanning the empty surroundings with the sharpness of a predator. For the first time, a clear trace of surprise and confusion flashed across her usually calm and composed face.

The red orb of light beside her immediately bristled, its halo flickering at a high frequency and simulating a strong electromagnetic interference sound: "Beep?! W-what?! A gift? For whom? What are you setting up?! Permission request failed! Source unidentified! Danger rating: Unknown?!"

This dramatic reaction of surprise from both the person and the ball seemed to please the owner of the mysterious voice. The being that called itself "World Consciousness" let out a short, light "Heh!", with a playful air of mischief.

"You'll see when the time comes!" Like an invisible ribbon, it gently circled around Melusin. Her voice was filled with unwavering confidence and... a hint of mysterious excitement: "Don't worry, don't worry~ It'll definitely be... a surprise!!"

That invisible "gaze" seemed to move closer to Melsin, carrying a teasing and expectant tone, like an elder encouraging a junior: "Good luck! I believe in you, Harunia!"

Before the words were even finished, that ethereal presence vanished without a trace, like a reflection in water scattered by a thrown stone, as if it had never existed. Only a sudden, expanding silence remained in the system space, and… two frozen figures.

Chapter 22 Meilushin's Concerns (Part 2) Requesting recommendation tickets and monthly tickets!

The sudden, mysterious whispers and the vague promise of "surprise" were like a boulder thrown into still water.

The silence left behind after the disappearance of world consciousness weighed heavily on the system space.

The red orb was still flashing on and off beside them, simulating the buzzing sound of "data disorder".

Meanwhile, Melusin's (Harunia's) vertical pupils, which flowed with amber-gold iridescence, had completely lost focus.

The initial surprise and doubt, frozen in the depths of his eyes, were gradually replaced by a deeper, more profound anxieties, imbued with the insight unique to ancient beings.

Her gaze pierced through the system barrier and landed on the crumbling "Area 11".

Here, all the so-called powerful forces—whether it be Britannia's gunships, the Knightmare Frame, or her own immense power capable of tearing through the air, freezing souls, and reshaping reality—are like fragile, illusory bubbles in her eyes.

Charles, Xiu Zanair, the Knights of the Round Table, even Vv and the Order lurking in the shadows of Geass… if she so desired, a single thought, a single glance. (“Annihilate.”) The cold judgment was uttered silently in her mind.

Where the simulated azure light flashed, the Governor's Mansion turned into crystalline dust, and the fleet evaporated into gas.

All the “obstacles” entrenched here, along with the symbols of authority they have constructed, will be completely erased from the dust of history as if they never existed.

The disparity in pure power is so vast that it's like a dragon looking down on an ant; even the word "crush" seems superfluous.

(Sweep away all the dust blocking Yuffie's ideal path; the physical feasibility... is virtually nonexistent.)

Her fingertips unconsciously traced a tiny arc on the sofa armrest. But the next second, the cold light in her eyes faded away.

Instead, a more challenging understanding has emerged.

This realization vaguely overlapped with the image of the aloof figure sitting on a cold jade throne at the edge of the fairy kingdom in her mind, carrying a cold warning of past lessons.

She could instantly eliminate all existing "enemies." And the result? A vacuum created by the instantaneous clearing of a power and violence structure by external force…

What was Euphemia R. Britannia like at that time—this princess with the ideal of the highest good?

Does she possess the political skills to govern a region and rebuild order? Does she have a mature, executable management structure that can balance the demands of both new and old forces?

Does she possess a reliable force capable of responding swiftly and deterring all sides when a power vacuum triggers a chaotic war of greed?

(Besides me, the "nuclear button" that will eventually leave, what does she have to rely on for the long term?)

Did she win the genuine trust of the local people, who were deeply rooted in hatred and fear, or was she merely forced into temporary compliance by being seen as another, more powerful, and temporarily harmless "protector"?

The answer was almost cold: no. Euphemia now possessed only a heart that shone with pure light, a voice that proclaimed grand ambitions under the protection of a powerful external force… and the title of princess parachuted into the ruins of power.

(Just like Queen Morgan trying to use her power and throne to forcibly solidify the doomed, illusory bubble of happiness in Lostbelt...)

(Essentially, it's all about external forces forcibly distorting the status quo. And once those external forces are removed...)

(Morgan left behind a cold coffin destined to crumble, while Euphemia left behind... possibly a coffin torn to shreds in an instant by bloody power and the flames of revenge...)

(The ruins of this "ideal state" are even more hopeless than when it was ruled by Britannia! This is not the founding of a nation, this is...)

Melusin's brow furrowed very slightly, and a sharp word came to mind: — playing house.

A massive and tragic simulation game where a safe zone is created by outsiders through violence, and a young princess with no foundation in governance plays the role of the "ruler of an ideal state"...

She promised to bring back Euphemia, she promised to protect that light... but certainly not to let that light be erected on such an illusory and doomed sandcastle!

The scrutinizing gaze, born from the passage of time, brings a clear sense of bewilderment.

She has the power to overturn the game, but she cannot play the game in place of the player.

Power, rules, trust and balance in the human world... these complex and fragile things cannot be built up by mere force.

They require time, wisdom, and adjustment... and most importantly, the ruler's own true ability and prestige.

Removing the deadly trap from Yuffie is one thing, but for Yuffie's dream to truly take root, grow, and even bloom on this land once stained with blood...

What she needs to do is far more than simply use force to remove obstacles. She must help Euphemia build the foundations of her own nation.

(This is really troublesome... guiding a tender soul to bear the weight of a crown.)

This realization did not bring panic, but rather a sense of unease mixed with a touch of helplessness and responsibility.

She glanced at her fingertips, which could easily reshape mountains and rivers, for the light she protected with that promise... This kind of guiding patience seemed to be an essential and even more demanding "lesson".

The heaviness brought by this realization caused her toes, which had stopped swaying, to unconsciously begin tapping a nameless rhythm on the sofa armrest again.

"Um..." The red orb flickered weakly, cautiously asking at the edge of Melusin's silent thoughts, which exuded an aura of "plotting something big": "...The surprise that the world consciousness mentioned...could it be something that can make this foundation...a little more solid?"

Melusin glanced sideways, her amber-gold vertical pupils reflecting the unstable red light of the orb.

The deep-seated anxieties about the "foundation" were temporarily overshadowed by a sudden and unpredictable variable.

A "surprise"? Hopefully... it will really land at the point where it's most needed.

Silence enveloped the system space once more, with only the faint rhythm of Melusin unconsciously tapping the armrest, as if it were the outward manifestation of the rhythm of her massive mental calculations.

Chapter 23 The Tool Person is Activated! (Please vote with free tickets!)

After realizing that simply relying on violent cleanup could not support a true "ideal state," a more logical idea, which also carried a touch of inhuman cold-blooded efficiency, quietly emerged: since Euphemia herself lacked a foundation, and the throne needed someone to sit firmly, why not just find a suitable "tool" from the existing resources and push him onto the throne?

This idea is remarkably straightforward, stripping away all sentimentality and political correctness, leaving only pure utilitarian considerations: finding a qualified ruler who can quickly fill the power vacuum, stabilize the situation, and efficiently implement Yuffie's ideal framework under the limited protection she provides. In this way, Yuffie can transcend the tedious political struggles and focus on her role as a shining symbol of "ideals," allowing her influence and the "special zone spirit" to resonate more deeply with the people.

The selection criteria were quickly drawn up in her ancient mind: possessing strong enough political skills and overall control to quickly subdue rivals and rebuild order; having a deep enough base of power and appeal to maintain initial operation; the "Japanese Special Zone" itself having no fundamental hostility, or at least having exploitable motives; and ideally, being easy for her to control or exert limited guidance.

Almost instantly, two "candidate files" appeared clearly on her consciousness assessment table.

First file's consciousness tag: [Lelouch vi Britannia/Zero] (Strengths): Astounding strategic talent and battlefield command ability, far exceeding the benchmarks of ordinary people; strong personal will and execution ability, adept at forging paths in desperate situations, a trait even worthy of a small commendation. Key bonus: That Geass power that distorts the rules themselves—whether used to control key figures or eliminate obstacles, its efficiency is extremely high! Although the ideal motivation of the "Japan Special Zone" is not pure, its ultimate goal highly overlaps with Euphemia's, and its obsession is enough to become a powerful engine driving him to protect this land.

(Weaknesses): Overly strong personal emotional entanglements, especially with his sister Nunnally, can easily lead to unbalanced decision-making, even reminiscent of another case of someone collapsing due to obsession. Geass power is a double-edged sword; the risk of losing control comes with its immense convenience. His extreme personality and distrust mean that "stability" is not his strength; he relies more on ingenious schemes and powerful external forces to achieve temporary balance.

The second file's identification tag: [Schneizel Ei Britannia] (Strengths): Possessing impeccable political maneuvering and balancing skills, recognized as the pinnacle of Britannian politics; extremely calm and rational, with virtually no emotional weaknesses; a vast power network and influence covering Britannia and its colonies, providing far greater public support and resources than Lelouch; and an outwardly elegant demeanor and "pacifist" stance that perfectly aligns with the propaganda needs of the "Special Zone".

(Weaknesses): The key fatal flaw lies in the pure and cold motivation behind his actions—a purely philosophical test, rather than any sense of responsibility towards the land or its people. "Peace" is a game built on the foundation of his grand experiments, with the well-being of the people merely a calculable piece within it. For him, Yuffie's ideals are more likely an interesting petri dish in a laboratory. He possesses absolute control over the game and will never willingly become a "tool" in the hands of others, especially an idealistic princess. His deeper background, his understanding of Code and Geass, and their potential connections, add further difficulty to his control.

This multiple-choice question… is no easy task. Meloshen's knuckles stopped tapping, unconsciously curling up and leaving a slight rubbing sound on the smooth armrest. She examined two flawed yet extremely valuable materials like a discerning craftsman: Lelouch's strengths and weaknesses were like surging magma, fiery and destructive, but with a clear core objective; Schneizel, on the other hand, was like a precise instrument, operating perfectly but with an unfathomable, cold target.

Geass's "cheat code" attribute undoubtedly gives Lelouch a higher efficiency ceiling in achieving his goals in the short term, provided he can effectively control the risk of its backlash; while Schneizel's solid "popular support base" and mature political skills can provide a smoother and more stable transition period and initial situation. Entrusting his ideal blueprint to a dangerous genius who might overturn the chessboard at any moment for his sister, or a ruthless scientist who sees everything as an experimental field? It's almost like gambling on two completely different futures: the former is extremely risky but potentially rewarding, while the latter has relatively controllable risk but cold and limited rewards. Choosing either one seems to offer no optimal solution.

The troubles escalated! A slight anxiety, typical of those in positions of power, stirred within Melusin's usually calm heart. Like someone hesitating between two paths, each fraught with danger, she even began to consider some unconventional solutions—perhaps the possibility of semi-coercing them to work for Euphemia simultaneously? Or perhaps...

Shouldn't we use a more efficient method? Like taking out the optimal brain, implanting a set of instructions for the most efficient execution of the Yuffie program, then shoving it back in and pushing it directly onto the platform? This chilling thought flashed through her mind, carrying the terrifying pragmatism characteristic of dragons when solving problems, but she immediately shook her head to dismiss it. No, that was too brutal, completely losing its growth and meaning, and its stability might not be stronger than the first two candidate solutions.

This is incredibly troublesome. Melusin sighed silently, her fingers resuming their unconscious tapping motion after a pause. She needed a trigger, an event that would both reveal the deeper core of their relationship and provide a catalyst… Perhaps the “surprise” mentioned by the world consciousness and the impending Geass crisis could bring about new variables?

She closed her eyes briefly, readjusting her assessment criteria. At least one thing was certain: simply overwhelming them with force was far less valuable than making a more precise selection and guidance among these two "troublesome but useful" candidates.

"Hmm..." The red orb beside her witnessed the subtle "computational storm" emanating from her consciousness fluctuations, and its halo trembled. "Candidate screening... a difficult mode? System... perhaps you can help create a probability model?"

Melusin glanced at it, a subtle, unreadable glint in her vertical pupils. "Quiet," she whispered, sinking her consciousness back into the sea of ​​assessment, composed of human traits far more complex and treacherous than molecular structures.

Chapter 24 Euphemia's Enchanting Dream (Please vote for me!)

Dawn. Deep within the Governor's Mansion, in the room belonging to Euphemia Li Britannia, the Acting Governor of District 11.

The heavy velvet curtains were drawn tightly shut, filtering the first rays of dawn into a hazy, warm gray light that gently fell upon the thick velvet carpet.

Euphemia nestled in the soft velvet bedding, her pink hair scattered across the white pillow.

She was sleeping soundly, her breathing even and deep.

However, in that soft realm dominated by the subconscious, a heartwarming scene unfolds that is completely different from reality.

In her dreams... there was no politics, no responsibility, no power struggles that suffocated her.

There was only a tranquil and pure boundless sea of ​​flowers, as if it were covered with fine, downy petals.

In the center of the sea of ​​flowers, the silver-haired fairy knight Melushin stood quietly.

Unlike the usual veiled, elegant yet subtly distant appearance of the guards and knights.

In her dream, Melusin wore no veil, revealing her exquisitely beautiful face, which seemed otherworldly. Her amber-gold vertical pupils shone with a light softer than moonlight.

She wore a light and flowing white dress, the hem of which and her long silver hair swayed gently in the invisible, warm breeze of the dream.

Euphemia found herself leaning against Melusin without any restraint, like an innocent little girl nestled against her most trusted elder.

She could clearly "feel" that Melusin's body temperature was slightly cool but not cold, and rather unusually comfortable, transmitted through the thin fabric.

I "smelled" a peculiar fragrance, as if it were a blend of the crisp, clear scent of melting snow from the mountains and the subtle, elegant aroma of some ancient wood.

Even on her cheeks, she could feel the slight tickling sensation from the other person's soft hair occasionally brushing against her skin.

In this dream, Melusin did not shy away; instead, she naturally extended her slender hand with a slightly cool touch.

With extremely gentle force, as if handling a fragile treasure, she stroked Euphemia's soft, long pink hair lightly and intermittently.

His movements carried a rare, almost indulgent gentleness and...protectiveness among dragon fairies?

Yuffie was enveloped in an unprecedented and profound sense of security.

It was a safer haven than in her sister Cornelia's arms, a tranquility that shielded her from all the noise and storms of the world.

It felt as if all her troubles would vanish with the wind if she simply leaned against this spot. She even wanted to curl up completely in this cozy coolness and fragrance.