Light cracked like glass.
It gathered on the floor of the summoning chamber in thin, precise lines, no blaze, no thunder, just a sharp geometry that made the air feel colder. Ren stood at the center of it, three tomoe turning slow and deliberate in his eyes, waiting. Gojo leaned against the far pillar with his usual easy slouch, blindfold tilted as if he were peeking, and Escanor sat meekly on a low stool, hands folded around a cup Haku had left, careful not to take up space. Zabuza wasn't here; he didn't like "rooms that pretend to be altars," and Ren hadn't insisted.
The lines of light rose and met, and a figure stepped through.
He was tall and thin in a way that made the room seem designed around him, black cloak cut with ruthless minimalism, a fall of dark hair, skin pale enough to reflect candlelight. Violet eyes took everything in with a single sweep that felt like an audit: symbols underfoot, exits, the men watching him, and finally Ren. He did not stumble. He did not ask where he was. His gaze said he'd already judged the parameters and was waiting for the next input.
The stranger smiled faintly, cold but amused.
"So." His voice was cultured, smooth, every syllable pronounced with care. "I take it I am far from Britannia."
Gojo whistled, clapping once. "Oh, nice delivery. You've got the drama down, tall-dark-and-handsome. You'll fit right in."
"Lelouch vi Britannia," Ren said.
Ren kept his stance still. "You are in another world. This is the shinobi world. I am Ren Uchiha. And I summoned you."
The man's smirk deepened. "Summoned. A dangerous word. That usually means pawn, servant… expendable."
Escanor looked up, nervous, stammering slightly. "N-no, that isn't… Lord Ren doesn't… treat us as such."
Lelouch, because Ren knew it was him, turned his violet eyes to Escanor. His brow furrowed slightly but he said nothing, turning back to Ren.
A corner of Lelouch's mouth moved. Not a smile, an adjustment. "And what do you expect of me, Ren Uchiha?"
"Your mind," Ren said simply. "I summon strength when I need strength. But this world has more than battles, it has clans, daimyos, shifting alliances, a cycle of power that devours anyone who can't play the game. I can command loyalty. I can build armies. But politics?" His voice sharpened. "Politics demand a strategist. Someone who sees moves ten steps ahead. That's why you're here. I want a man who can see moves ten steps ahead, someone who can turn sacrifice into victory that lasts."
Gojo clapped once, delighted. "He does love an entrance speech, doesn't he? Keep going, it's great theater."
Lelouch's eyes narrowed, studying the boy who spoke with the tone of a commander. There was something unsettling about Ren, not just the Sharingan, but the way he spoke with the authority of a man far older.
"You speak of sacrifice as though it were currency," Lelouch murmured at last. "Tell me, then… what do you intend to pay with? Your men? Your people? Yourself?"
Gojo clapped a hand to his mouth in mock horror. "Ooooh, philosophical already! I like him. He's already poking at the Boss like he's reading the script."
Ren didn't blink. "If the world demands sacrifice, I'll decide who pays. And I'll make sure the price builds something instead of feeding the fire."
That earned him a long silence. Then Lelouch chuckled softly, darkly. "How fascinating. A boy who speaks like a king."
Gojo tilted his head, grinning wide. "Correction: a boy who speaks like a tyrant with a planner. Big difference."
Escanor frowned faintly but didn't interrupt. He knew this was Ren's exchange to lead.
Finally Lelouch stepped forward, extending a hand. His grip was firm, cold, deliberate. "Very well. If you are the one who summoned me, then I will see what kind of board you've built. If you can truly create a world where sacrifice is not wasted…" His eyes glinted, sharp as knives. "…then perhaps you are worthy of a Black Prince at your table."
Ren accepted the handshake, his chains glowing faintly and then dimming again as the pact settled. Another link added to the Eclipse Order.
Gojo whistled again. "Oh man, this is gonna be fun. We've got the Lion, the Prince, and me, the Strongest. Poor Konoha's gonna need a vacation."
Escanor, meek and blushing faintly, adjusted his glasses. "I… I am not sure I should be counted so highly…"
Lelouch turned to him again, watching. "And you are?"
Gojo leaned in like he was giving away a juicy secret. "That's Escanor. By night he's a kitten, by noon he's a sun-drunk lion who thinks everyone else is an ant. You'll love him. Or hate him. Or both."
Lelouch blinked once, slowly, then turned back to Ren. "Your… Order is certainly diverse."
Ren nodded. "Diversity is strength. Power from different worlds, different rules. Together, we can build what this world has never seen."
He motioned to the table at the side, where maps of Fire Country and the nobility's estates lay spread. "Your first task, Lelouch. We've saved nobles. We've gained their gratitude. But gratitude fades. I want something permanent. Bind them to us, contracts, alliances, debts. You know better than me how to turn influence into a leash."
Lelouch's eyes gleamed. He stepped to the maps, running slender fingers across the lines of ink. His gaze sharpened, already spinning possibilities. "Yes… nobles live on face and fear. You've already given them both. With the right script, they will ask for your chain themselves."
Escanor shifted uneasily, his meek form anxious. "Isn't that… manipulation?"
Lelouch didn't even look up. "All governance is manipulation. The question is whether it crushes or steadies."
Gojo laughed, delighted. "Oh, this is gonna drive you nuts, Boss. He's basically you, but with a fancier vocabulary."
Ren allowed himself a small smile. "Good. Then he'll fit right in."
…
They shifted to the war room beneath Wave's administrative hall, heavy table, maps pinned at the edges, ink lines marking merchant roads and the estates of Fire Country houses. Lanterns made small islands of light; the rest was disciplined shadow. Escanor set aside the tea and folded into his chair again, apologizing under his breath when it creaked. Gojo perched on a crate, cheerfully useless. Ren stood across from Lelouch and watched the way his eyes consumed information.
"The nobles," Lelouch said, fingertips hovering over names. "Shaken by Konoha's breach, grateful you carried them through it, terrified of looking weak to their peers. Gratitude decays. Fear spreads. Both can be directed."
Zabuza would have said, Hit them and be done. Lelouch said, "We stage coincidence." He tapped three estates. "Gather them where you control the room. Give them a narrative to agree with. Contradictions make men stubborn; inevitability makes them obedient."
Ren nodded once. "Do it."
The banquet was arranged within a day, Wave's great hall dressed in silk and lantern gold, musicians hired to play confidence back into fingertips still shaking from smoke. House banners made shy appearances beside Wave's modest crest; stewards moved through the room with trays of sake that went down too quickly. Outside, the harbor chimed with masts and rope. Inside, talk circled Hiruzen's funeral, the stadium's hole like a wound you could see from the sky, the blindfolded man and the giant on the roof.
Lelouch didn't enter until the room had settled into a rhythm of relief and rumor. He wore black without ornament, posture clean, movements spare. No herald called his name, and yet conversations thinned around him like the tide drawing off. He gave no smile, no bow beyond the minimum. He took the center the way a knife takes the seam in fabric.