Lelouch leaned against the cold bulkhead of the dim corridor, arms folded, mind already miles away from Earth Sphere. A Baoa Qu. Gihren's propaganda. Zeon's death spiral.
It all pointed toward the same conclusion.
Staying here is suicide.
He exhaled slowly. Jason wasn't wrong. If they kept playing inside Zeon and the Federation's script, the ending was already written, and none of them were getting out of it alive.
Mars.
A ridiculous idea on the surface, but compared to dying in a superheated debris cloud outside A Baoa Qu? It was starting to look downright elegant.
He turned toward the workshop door, hearing the clang of tools and the faint hum of machinery inside. Jason was already working.
Of course he was.
Inside the cramped engineering bay, Jason had three holoscreens open at once. One displayed slipspace engine diagrams. Another scrolled through Star Trek-style warp field equations. The third showed something terrifyingly close to a Warhammer STC printout.
Blueprints filled the table—folded, scribbled on, partially torn—ranging from UNSC frigate reactor cores to Cyberpunk-grade neural control systems.
Jason didn't look up when Lelouch stepped in.
"You're thinking it too," Jason said, tightening a bolt with a quick twist. "Get off this rock. Off this system. Before Zeon and the Federation erase themselves."
Lelouch watched him in silence for a moment.
"You really think you can build this?" he asked quietly.
Jason finally met his eyes.
"I don't think. I know. My Brain (system )can produce schematics for anything as long as I have time and materials." He tapped a stack of blueprints. "Filters for Martian atmosphere processors. Reactor shielding strong enough for Jupiter runs. Fusion thrust arrays. Even early versions of sublight drives."
Lelouch raised a brow. "You're planning to leapfrog a century of technological progress just because the war is inconvenient?"
Jason shrugged, wiping grease off his hands. "I don't care about Zeon or the Federation. I care about staying alive. And I care about the people I choose to bring with me."
Lelouch's expression tightened.
"Leaving the Earth Sphere… abandoning the front… abandoning our positions… that's not a small decision."
Jason didn't flinch. "If you stay, you die. If Tanya stays, she dies. If any Newtype stays, they get thrown into whatever meat grinder Gihren calls a 'final stand.'"
Lelouch looked at the piles of blueprints again.
Warhammer jump-drives. Halo reactor housings. Star Trek field manifolds. Cyberpunk neural lattices.
The mad patchwork of a man preparing to tear civilization in half and rebuild it somewhere else.
"You're serious," Lelouch said softly.
Jason nodded. "We don't fix the war. We outgrow it."
For a moment, Lelouch didn't speak. The vision felt insane, impossible… and yet, for the first time since Solomon, it sounded like a future instead of a funeral.
"So," Lelouch said, voice lowering. "How long until you can actually build something that flies?"
Jason smirked. "Give me a few months. A hidden yard. And no one bothering me."
Lelouch stepped toward the door again, cloak swaying behind him.
"I'll buy you the time. Somehow."
Behind him, tools clattered, machinery sparked, and Jason returned to his frantic construction. He didn't need encouragement. The war had already given him the push.
If Zeon was burning, and the Federation was tightening its grip, Jason had decided to answer with something neither side saw coming.
A way out.
A future beyond their reach.
And Lelouch, against all instincts, found himself willing to believe it.
Fine. Here's the clean rewrite, flowing naturally from the previous chapter, no subtitles, no numbering, no melodramatic neon signs. Just story.
Lelouch found Tanya in a half-lit maintenance hallway on Granada, leaned against a crate like she'd been weighing the universe and losing the argument. She didn't even bother glancing at him.
"You have that look," she said flatly. "The 'we're doing something insane again' look."
He didn't deny it.
"Jason has a plan," Lelouch said. "And we're leaving Zeon."
That finally got her eyes up.
He explained everything: Jason's expansion project, the tech he was quietly constructing, the possibility of reaching Mars, even Jupiter, a future out of reach of Zeon and the Federation. Tanya didn't interrupt once. She just listened, jaw tightening with every new detail.
When he finished, she let out a slow, controlled breath.
"So the war collapses," she muttered. "Gihren's digging a grave the size of Side 3. And you want out."
"I intend to live," Lelouch replied. "Preferably in a better world than this."
Tanya ran a hand over her face, then nodded.
"Fine. I'm in."
She rose to her feet. "But I'm not leaving my squad behind."
They met in a dark storage bay where no one bothered checking badges. Mila leaned against a crate, arms crossed. Zhou Wei flicked a knife between his fingers. Ritcher stared up at the ceiling, half-asleep. Nyaan perched on a barrel like he expected trouble. Machu sat on a toolbox, staring at the floor.
Tanya didn't soften her voice.
"We're leaving Zeon. For good."
Mila snorted. "About time someone said it out loud."
Zhou Wei gave a sharp nod. "If you go, I go."
Ritcher shrugged lazily. "Beats dying for Gihren's ego."
Nyaan let out a tiny sigh. "As long as I don't starve again, whatever."
Only Machu didn't react. Tanya angled her head.
"What's wrong?"
Machu lifted his eyes. "I'm staying."
The room froze.
Tanya stared at him. "Say that again."
"I'm staying," he repeated, expression firm. "I'm not coming with you yet."
Tanya's annoyance flickered, but Lelouch stepped in before it escalated.
"Is this about Shuuji?"
Machu nodded once, jaw clenched. "I'm not leaving without knowing. If he's alive, I find him. If he's dead… I confirm it. I'm not turning my back on that."
For a moment, it looked like Tanya might argue, but Lelouch raised a hand.
"He doesn't have to choose today. He can stay. We'll give him what he needs. And when he's ready, we'll take him."
Machu stared hard at Lelouch. "And you? You're leaving too? You always run ahead of the storm."
Lelouch surprised him.
"I'm staying for now," he said. "There's something I need to settle before I follow Jason. Something that can't be ignored."
Tanya narrowed her eyes. "This about Char? Gihren? Artesia? Or your little hobby of rewriting destiny?"
Lelouch didn't answer directly. He never did.
But there was something in his eyes—something heavy and deliberate.
"I'll finish what I started," he said. "Then I'll come."
Mila clicked her tongue. " Lelouch Always do something i don't understand."
Zhou Wei smirked. "At least he's efficient."
Ritcher sighed. "Fine. But don't die. It'd be annoying."
Nyaan blinked slowly. "If he dies, who's paying for the food?"
Tanya just watched Lelouch, something complicated burning in her gaze.
"So this is it," she murmured. "We walk off the map."
"Not yet," Lelouch said. "But soon. And when we do, Zeon won't even know we're gone."
Plans were still vague. Time was short. The universe was collapsing in slow, predictable motion.
But for the first time since any of them had been dragged into war…
They had a direction.
Not victory.
Not glory.
Escape.
Future.
Survival.
And they would carve that path themselves.