//This is a flashback chapter. If you'd rather skip it, no worries — the next one resumes the main plot.\
Army Cafeteria – Victory Palace
In a quieter corner of Victory Palace, the army cafeteria buzzed with casual chatter and the clatter of trays. Soldiers, mostly from Britannia, filled the tables. One figure stood out — a new Cobra Division recruit named Luke, tray loaded with food. Scanning the room, he naturally bypassed the Britannians and headed for a table surrounded by Cobra troopers.
"Hey, shiny!" an older trooper called out, grinning.
Luke chuckled as he sat. "Shiny?"
A woman across the table smirked. "Your gear. Brand new. It's what we call the fresh recruits."
"When'd that start?" Luke asked, taking a bite.
The old man of the group leaned in, chewing on his food. "Hell, that term's been around since I left the Britannian army."
Luke blinked. "Wait… you're a Brit?"
"Born in the homeland," the old soldier replied proudly.
"I'm Aussie. Full-blooded," Luke said with a grin.
Behind them, a few Britannian soldiers laughed mockingly.
"Please, you're a Number 12," one sneered. "Know your place."
The Cobra table went quiet. Eyes narrowed.
The old man leaned back and muttered, "And people wonder why I stopped caring for my so-called homeland."
He turned to the mocking soldier. "Why don't you shut your damn mouth?"
But the Britannian soldier rose, swaggering toward them.
"Oh, that's right," he jeered. "Cobra Commander doesn't like the whole 'Number' thing. Heard he's fried in the head — just like his face."
The moment hung in silence… until a Cobra trooper, cigarette dangling from his lip, casually stood. With an easy grin, he strolled toward the Brit — then decked him with a sucker punch.
The Brit hit the floor, nose gushing blood.
Tension erupted. His buddies stood, but so did every Cobra soldier — knives drawn, eyes burning.
The Britannians backed off, scowling, dragging their wounded friend away.
"Pricks," Luke muttered.
"No kidding," the female trooper added.
"Let it go," the old man said. "They wouldn't talk that way if they'd seen him in action."
"Him?" Luke asked. "You mean… in a Knightmare?"
The old man chuckled. "Not even close. This was before all that. Back when war meant boots on the ground."
He lit a cigarette. The flame illuminated old eyes filled with memory.
"Let me tell you a story."
South East Asia – 6 Years Ago
"Britannia had just conquered Japan. South East Asia was next. Rebels popped up like weeds. Knightmares were still in limited deployment, so they sent in foot soldiers — us. And someone else."
A military transport hummed through the clouds. Inside, Britannian grunts sat pale and sweating from turbulence. Among them sat a young man cleaning his rifle — name tag reading Bludd. Nervous, focused, unaware of the figure standing silently in the rear of the plane, arms crossed in shadow.
"Back then, Cobra was a myth. Ghost stories for greenhorns. I didn't believe it either."
The plane landed. The troops disembarked into a stifling, muddy base, greeted by sweating soldiers and swarms of flies. Among them, stepping off last, was a man dressed unlike any other — combat gear instead of armor, scars visible through torn sleeves.
"That was the first time I saw him. Cobra Commander. A prince… in the dirt with the rest of us."
A grizzled sergeant barked orders.
"This is your new home — you'll eat, sleep, and bleed here! Got it?!"
"WE WILL, SIR!"
All except Cobra, who stood silent.
The sergeant approached him. "What's the matter, Your Highness? Miss your palace?"
"No, sir," Cobra replied coolly.
"…Hmph. Just don't expect special treatment."
"I thought he was playing soldier. That idea didn't last long."
Into the Jungle
The platoon moved through dense, wet jungle — rifles ready. Whispers floated among the ranks.
"Babysitting a prince? What a joke."
Cobra ignored them, moving to the front beside Bludd.
"How old are you, kid?" Bludd asked.
"Seventeen."
Bludd scoffed. "You shouldn't be here."
"I can handle it."
"Handle it?! You're gonna get people killed, you—"
BOOM!
An explosion cut him off. Gunfire erupted.
"TAKE COVER!" Bludd roared.
Cobra moved like a seasoned vet, taking position, returning fire with precise aim. One rebel charged him with a knife — Cobra spun, disarmed, and shot him point-blank with one hand.
Bludd stared.
"That was no spoiled noble. That was a soldier."
Fire and Iron
Battles blurred together — but Cobra never slowed.
He leapt onto a rebel tank, dropped a bomb inside, and sprinted clear as it exploded behind him.
When a stolen Glasgow Knightmare appeared, he charged it, dodging bullets. Finding a weak point, he fired a rocket straight into the cockpit.
In another skirmish, when his rifle jammed, he tossed it aside, drew two pistols, and mowed down the enemy John Woo–style. Then, cool as hell, he holstered them with a spin and signaled the squad forward.
"No one questioned his orders after that. He earned command — more than any noble general ever did."
Brotherhood in Blood
Rain fell in sheets. The elite dined in dry tents, sipping wine. The soldiers? Mud, rations, and rice crawling with maggots.
Cobra? He sat with them, chewing the same rot.
"A prince, eating maggot rice. No speeches. No drama. Just… solidarity."
They slogged through sludge as nobles in Knightmares drove by, splashing filth onto them. A soldier cursed, middle finger raised.
Cobra just muttered, "Save your strength. Aim that rage at the enemy."
Even Bludd noticed — high above, Princess Cornelia strategized from a cruiser… while Cobra helped a fallen soldier up from the muck.
"That was the moment. That's when he stopped being 'the brat'… and became the commander I'd follow to hell."
The Battle for the Village
Gunfire thundered. A sniper caught Bludd in the eye — he dropped, screaming. Through the haze, Cobra gunned down the shooter and dragged Bludd to safety.
Knightmares arrived late — Cornelia's elite swept in and took the glory.
"They swooped in like vultures. Got the medals. But everyone in the mud knew the truth."
Back in the cafeteria, recruits cheered for Cornelia on the broadcast.
Someone hurled a drink at the screen.
"Bitch stole our win!"
Cobra stood behind them, arms crossed. Calm.
"Let it go. We know the truth. And yeah — the Knightmares helped. We don't rewrite facts."
Bludd walked in, one eye bandaged.
"You look like hell," Cobra said.
"I feel worse," Bludd laughed.
They shared a chuckle. Bludd lit a cigarette and offered one. Cobra declined.
"So... that's it? War's over?"
"For you, maybe." Cobra opened a datapad. A map of Australia glowed.
"I'm thinking of starting over. Building something new."
Bludd stared. "You sure? You're a prince. You could have a castle."
Cobra smirked. "I'm a spoiled brat, remember? I'll manage."
Bludd smiled. "I was wrong about you. You've got my respect, Commander."
Cobra extended a hand. "Call me Cobra. Cobra Commander."
Present Day
"…And the rest," the old man said, "was history. He took Australia and built something better. That's why we follow him."
Luke's eyes widened. "Wait... you were there? I figured he'd promote you by now."
"Oh, he did." The old man removed his helmet and coat, revealing standard officer's fatigues underneath.
"Major Bludd."
Luke shot up. "Sir!"
Bludd waved him down. "At ease. Just checking on the new blood. No one knows I'm here yet — except Cobra."
He grabbed his coat and left.
Victory Palace – Later That Night
Bludd entered a quiet room in the castle. Cobra Commander was waiting, two coffees already poured.
"You made it," Cobra said. "Thought you'd skip out on tradition."
Bludd smirked. "And miss our annual toast?"
They tapped cups.
"To another year of surviving."
They drank.
But Bludd's face turned serious.
"…You showed your face again. So, we're really doing this?"
"I won't hold it against you if you back out."
"If you're going to hell, I'm going with you. But why now?"
Cobra looked out at the stars.
"…Because of Zero."
"The masked terrorist?" Bludd's eyes narrowed. "What's he got to do with—?"
"Zero is my brother."
Bludd froze. "…Lelouch is alive?"
Cobra nodded.
"And Nunnally?"
"She's with him."
Bludd looked down. "Sir… I'm sorry I couldn't find them sooner."
"Don't blame yourself. I never believed they were dead."
He took a sip. "I had my spies watch Zero. After digging deep… I found the truth. And now? I'm going to help him win this war."
Bludd leaned back. "That makes you a traitor, sir. Greatest in the Empire's history."
Cobra smiled.
"Good. Maybe someone will finally remember our names."
Bludd raised his cup.
"Hail Cobra."
Cobra Commander chuckled and raised his own.
"Hail Cobra."
Clink.