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Joan, the Two Rites, and the others were all eccentric in their own distinct ways.
Only a straightforward and proud girl like Misaka Mikoto still felt the stirrings of embarrassment in such situations.
However, Misaka Mikoto (Alter) seemed unfazed, as if long used to these theatrics.
"It's just a bunch of trash. Is it even worth paying attention to?"
Surrounded by pitch-black lightning crackling like a curse, she looked every bit the devil risen from the abyss.
She had struck the same domineering pose earlier when facing the incompetent armed mob.
Shen He noticed this behavior and was surprised to realize—this wasn't a performance.
To Misaka Mikoto Alter, overwhelming the weak with power came as naturally as breathing. Even the original Mikoto had no qualms about electrocuting punks or thugs with a zap of current.
It was effective. Brutal, but effective.
Now, before them stood a crowd of rebel fighters—faces twisting as if exposed to an unbearable truth. Excitement, despair, awe, disbelief... emotions surged across them like tides.
"You people, why are you opposing the Empire!?" Karen asked, teeth clenched, voice trembling with fear but holding tight to her conviction.
"That's not something you're qualified to know," Lelouch said with a sweeping gesture. His long cloak billowed behind him. "Look around—ruins, corpses, ash. You lie defeated, shivering amid the evidence of your own failure. Do you really think a band of ragtag insurgents can bring down the Holy Britannian Empire?"
Karen felt a stab in her chest.
The words struck like a bullet to the heart. They claimed to be the Resistance Army, but in truth... their methods were no better than terrorism.
Worse still, they lacked both the ruthlessness to confront the aristocracy and the courage to bear the consequences of igniting civilian rebellion.
Qi Mu Nanxiong retracted his glowing palm. The rebels staggered, freed from his psychic hold.
He had already gleaned the answers he sought—directly from their minds.
"What do you plan to do next?" Shen He asked Lelouch directly.
Even Karen and the rest looked at Zero now. The mysterious figure who had summoned them here hadn't acted directly. Who exactly was he?
Lelouch sensed Shen He's intention—it was time to establish authority and shape perception.
So he spoke with deliberate ease: "Next, I ask that you proceed to the Governor's Mansion… and apprehend the Third Princess Euphemia li Britannia."
The words hit like thunder.
Kidnap the Third Princess!?
Karen instinctively opened her mouth in protest, but her comrade tugged her back sharply.
To their group, this was inconceivable. Attacking Euphemia would not only bring certain doom—it would fracture the fragile unity among the remaining Resistance groups.
Yet standing before these transcendent beings, they dared not voice objection.
"Leave it to us," Shen He replied coolly.
In a blink, he and his companions vanished into space. Only Zero remained.
Shen He had little interest in Lelouch's manipulation of the rebels. His thoughts had already leapt ahead—to Euphemia.
In his past world, few people maintained unwavering character. The information age had broadened horizons, but muddied hearts. Softness had become a liability, an endangered quality.
Euphemia li Britannia… was a soft girl. And more—she was that rare breed: soft but resolute.
A gentle will, a noble heart, and the strength to carry both.
"Master," Mikoto skipped over to him. "We're really kidnapping the Third Princess?"
"Don't worry," Shen He smiled. "Lelouch wouldn't hurt her."
In the original setting, Euphemia and Lelouch were half-siblings—never close as brother and sister, but rather, bittersweet first loves. Her kindness was perhaps the only thing that could momentarily stay Lelouch's thirst for vengeance.
Until the author chose to murder her in a moment of tragedy.
Her death was the moment Lelouch crossed the line of no return. The final light before darkness claimed him.
But this time, that story would change.
By the time Shen He returned from his reverie, they had reached the perimeter of the Governor's Mansion.
"You don't all need to go," he said, looking at his companions. "Anyone want to head back?"
"I'll go," said the Two Rites, stepping back.
"Me too," Mikoto added with a sheepish expression. "If I don't return before curfew, that terrifying dorm matron will hunt me down again."
"Alright." Shen He nodded and opened a portal. "This world's not very fun anyway. We'll find something better when we visit Qi Mu's world next time."
Though truth be told, Joan's world might be even more fascinating. But he hesitated to go there.
Who knew how the system had ripped Joan away from the Root? If it could pull her, it might pull more…
And if that kind of breach continued, risks would escalate.
Still, how could one even measure causality at that level?
He shelved the thought and focused. Four servants remained with him.
He grabbed Violet with one hand, reached for Misaka Mikoto Alter with the other, and walked into the mansion's grounds like they were out for a stroll.
Qi Mu Nanxiong, now at level 29, had unlocked abilities he'd held back on. Psychic camouflage altered their appearance in others' eyes. Teleportation ensured smooth infiltration.
His telepathic scans quickly pinpointed Euphemia's position.
She was just finishing dinner.
In the Governor's Office, Euphemia li Britannia sat behind a massive mahogany desk.
"Your Highness," said her assistant, Marianne, standing before her with documents in hand. "Several elderly citizens from the Elevens have refused to accept imperial relief funds. This news has spread online. Now even nobles and commoners alike are petitioning the palace to revoke the program."
"Why would they refuse it, Marianne?" Euphemia asked gently. "These are elders without children. They need this aid."
Marianne adjusted her glasses, veiling the disdain in her eyes.
"Most of their children died resisting the Empire. There will always be ungrateful elements, Your Highness."
To her, the Third Princess was naĂŻve.
The Empire claimed to be benevolent, but everyone knew that was a lie.
The former governor—Clovis, the Third Prince—had personally orchestrated the massacre at Shinjuku. Massacring rebels and innocents alike.
Who in their right mind would believe the next royal sibling would be any different?
Euphemia looked at the report and suddenly stood.
"I want to meet them. The ones who refused the aid."
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