The storm that was Dozle Zabi raged through Solomon, leaving a trail of shattered illusions in its wake. His roar, echoing through reinforced durasteel corridors, was a truth-bomb detonating in the hearts of his officers. They had seen the casualty reports, heard the whispers, but to hear their Warlord—the very personification of Zeon's military might—renounce the act with such raw, unadulterated fury… it changed everything.
Tanya von Zehrtfeld remained in the shadows, her presence as ephemeral as a ghost's whisper. From her vantage point within the logistical nexus of Solomon, she had access to more information than most. The data core Dozle had thrown—she knew its contents, the gruesome details of the colony drop that had scorched a continent and smothered untold lives. Until now, she had compartmentalized, viewing it as a necessary evil in the grand strategies of war. But Dozle's anguish, so profound and genuine, unstitched her carefully constructed emotional barriers.
She didn't know. This colossal figure, a Zabi by blood, had been kept in the dark, just as the populace was. His rage wasn't for a tactical misstep, but for a profound betrayal of his principles. She believed in Zeon's glory, its honorable fight. It was the same fervent belief that shone in Selene's eyes, the same idealism that had once fueled Tanya and her brother, Lelouch, when they first swore their oaths. The Zabi leadership—Gihren and Kycilia—had perverted that ideal into something monstrous.
Her commlink, encrypted and rarely used, buzzed a silent notification on her wrist. A coded message from Zum City. Lelouch. She opened it, her eyes scanning the familiar patterns, each symbol a shared history. His concise report confirmed her growing dread: Garma, the naive youngest Zabi, was a pawn, and their father, Degwin, was either complicit in silence or drowning in his own regret. Lelouch's final line resonated with Dozle's outburst: "If Zeon falls, it won't be because Earth struck back. It'll be because we destroyed ourselves first."
A cold dread settled over Tanya. They were on opposite ends of Zeon's crumbling empire, two threads in a tapestry unraveling. She, a master of military logistics, moving supplies and intelligence. He, a political savant, maneuvering through the viper's nest of the Zabi family. They were twins, born moments apart, yet forged into separate instruments by the unforgiving machinations of power. Their bond, however, remained an unbroken steel cable.
In Zum City, the opulent Zabi residence felt less like a home and more like a mausoleum. Garma Zabi sat across from Lelouch von Zehrtfeld, a ghost in his own study. The rich tapestries and polished wood seemed to mock his inner turmoil. The air was thick with the unsaid, the unspoken horror of what had transpired.
"My father… he simply stares," Garma confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "He sits in his study, day after day, silent. As if the very act of speaking would shatter him."
Lelouch nodded gravely, his violet eyes unreadable. "A heavy silence, indeed. It carries the weight of a million souls, does it not, Garma?" He leaned forward, his voice a balm. "The people believe in Zeon, in the promise of liberation from Earth's tyranny. But acts like these… they strip away the very fabric of that belief. They turn liberation into conquest, and conquest into atrocity."
Garma's hands trembled as he picked up a crystal decanter, pouring amber liquid into two glasses. "Gihren insists it was necessary, a decisive blow. Kycilia… she merely smiles, as if she has calculated the precise acceptable loss." He pushed a glass toward Lelouch. "But Dozle… even he is in an uproar. He's never been afraid to challenge Gihren, but this… this is different. He said he commands fleets, not slaughterhouses."
Lelouch took a slow sip, letting the words marinate. "Dozle is a soldier, Garma, a man of honor. He fights a war, not a vendetta. There is a distinction that Gihren and Kycilia seem to have forgotten. Or perhaps, never cared to learn." He paused, then delivered the next subtle blow. "A leader's strength lies not just in their might, but in the loyalty they inspire, and the ideals they uphold. What ideals do we uphold when we turn our weapons upon the innocent?"
Garma's pallor deepened. "I… I don't know anymore, Lelouch. I believed in Zeon. I still do. But this… this wasn't the Zeon I swore allegiance to." His eyes met Lelouch's, desperate for understanding. "What do we do?"
"We observe," Lelouch replied, his voice low, conspiratorial. "We learn. We understand the true nature of power when it is untethered from morality. And then… we act. But not rashly. Your father's silence, Dozle's fury, Gihren's cold resolve, Kycilia's cunning… these are all pieces of a larger puzzle. And you, Garma, are caught in the very center."
Lelouch spent the next hour carefully dissecting the political landscape, painting a picture of a Zabi family fracturing under the weight of its own ambition. He highlighted Gihren's growing authoritarianism, Kycilia's cold-blooded opportunism, and Degwin's paralysis. He subtly positioned Garma as the last hope for a more honorable Zeon, a son who could potentially reclaim the vision his father had lost. He didn't overtly suggest rebellion, merely a quiet assertion of principles, a search for allies within the military who shared Dozle's disgust.
As Lelouch left Garma's residence, the heavy gates closing behind him, he activated his own secure commlink. "Report from Zum City dispatched. Garma is malleable. The seeds are planted. How fares Solomon?"
Tanya's voice, crisp and clear, came through moments later. "Dozle's fury has solidified his image as an honorable warrior, even if it has alienated him from Gihren. Many lower ranks, and even some higher officers, quietly respect his stance. This incident has exposed a deep rift in the Zabi command structure. It's not just political anymore, Lelouch. It's moral."
"Indeed," Lelouch mused, walking through the deserted diplomatic quarter. "Morality is often the first casualty of war, but sometimes, it is the spark that ignites a new one. Maintain your observations, Tanya. We need to understand the full extent of this internal division. Who truly supports Dozle, and who merely fears Gihren? And what does Kycilia plan to do with this newfound chaos?"
"Understood," Tanya responded. "The logistics network here gives me eyes and ears in places others can't reach. I'll keep digging. The question is, what are we digging for, brother? A way out, or a way to rebuild?"
Lelouch stopped, looking up at the artificial sky, the stars like pinpricks in the black. "Both, perhaps. But first, we must survive the storm. And know precisely who the true enemies are."
The silence that followed was pregnant with unspoken dangers. The Zabi siblings were tearing Zeon apart, piece by bloody piece. And the von Zehrtfeld twins, caught in the eye of the storm, knew that their very existence might hinge on navigating this treacherous landscape.