The Empire of Multiverse

Chapter 43 - 4 Years, Imperial Year 0250

Imperial Year 0246-0250, a span of four years that witnessed a remarkable shift in the Imperium's expansion. From a modest 654 galaxies, their dominion swelled to encompass a staggering 1000 galaxies. Throughout this period, amidst the cosmic upheaval and the unyielding march of conquest, an enigmatic figure lurked in the shadows, orchestrating the Imperium's victories with an astute hand. That figure was none other than Grand Strategist Lelouch Vi Britannia.

The Old Ones, the ancient Aetherians, felt the weight of their defeats at the hands of the Imperium. Their losses were manifold, and all their struggles seemed to lead back to a single name: Lelouch. With dogged determination, they peeled back the layers of secrecy that veiled this elusive strategist, a man who held the reins of the Imperium's destiny.

Within the sacred halls of the Aetherian capital planet, the heart of the universe itself, the Kings of the Aetherians convened in solemn council. Their words reverberated through the grand chamber, a symphony of concern and determination. Valorath, the God of Magic, listened intently, his attention divided between their discourse and the laborious task of rousing his slumbering race from ages-long dormancy.

Though only a quarter of their brethren had been awakened, the presence of these newly stirred Aetherians infused the gathering with a renewed sense of purpose. The centuries had not been kind, marked by a succession of defeats at the hands of the Imperium Dominus. Amidst the collective frustration, a name hung heavily in the air, a name that had come to symbolize their opposition's uncanny prowess: Lelouch vi Britannia, the Grand Strategist of the Imperium.

"We must deal a decisive blow by eliminating this Grand Strategist," King Zal'tharian declared with a resolute tone, his gaze fixed upon his fellow monarchs.

King El'syra, an astute and contemplative ruler, responded with measured thoughtfulness. "Indeed, Zal'tharian. Lelouch vi Britannia is the orchestrator of our setbacks, a formidable adversary entrenched within the capital planet of a Frontier Galaxy—the Oscar Theatre of War. If we can eliminate him, we might halt the relentless march of Imperium Dominus."

Amidst the exchange of strategies and insights, King Yar'zoth interjected with a question that held profound significance. "Your Majesty, how progresses the awakening of our brethren?"

Valorath, the deity at the epicenter of their existence, weighed his words with gravitas. "A quarter of our kin has been roused from their slumber, Yar'zoth. They have joined the fray against the Imperium, bolstering our forces. But we must exercise patience and prudence, for the journey ahead remains arduous. In a few more years, half shall stand by our side."

As the divine being's voice resonated with an ethereal command, his gaze pierced the space between realms, ever-watchful over the unfolding conflict. "Allow them their victories, let the Imperium advance. Shrink our defenses, for in doing so, we guide their movements. The Center of the Universe shall be fortified, and we shall await the opportune moment."

The conversation circled back to the primary objective—the elimination of Lelouch vi Britannia. Valorath's divine decree resounded once more. "Yet, amidst this calculated patience, we must prioritize the eradication of this Grand Strategist. He is the architect of our adversaries' successes, and his removal shall cast a shadow upon their plans."

This information beckoned the Aetherians towards a confrontation, believing that the elimination of Lelouch would cripple the Imperium's relentless progress. Yet, what they saw as their opportunity would lead them into an elaborate trap.

In the sprawling depths of the cosmos, within the heart of the Imperial palace on Genesis Prime, Fafnir and Lelouch stood in a room bathed in a soft, ethereal light. The holographic displays before them illuminated the strategic maps of galaxies and star systems, each blinking with information that held the key to their expanding dominion.

Lelouch's gaze was unwavering as he presented his plan to Fafnir, a plan that held the promise of a decisive blow against the enigmatic Aetherians. The Grand Strategist's words were calculated, his voice carrying an air of determination that matched the fiery resolve in his eyes.

"Your majesty, I have thought and planned to deal a severe blow to the Aetherians and their forces, both as a leverage and vengeance for disrupting my plans on the Zulu Theater of War," Lelouch began, his fingers dancing across the holographic controls to reveal intricate diagrams and intricate schematics.

Fafnir, Emperor of the Imperium Dominus, listened with keen interest. His piercing blue eyes scanned the holographic projections, absorbing every detail of Lelouch's intricate strategy. The two minds were in sync, understanding the gravity of the situation and the need for a countermeasure that would leave their enemies reeling.

Lelouch's explanations were precise, his strategies orchestrated with the precision of a master conductor. He unveiled a multi-layered approach that relied on the deployment of artificial intelligence-driven ships, designed to mimic the Imperium's combat patterns. These AI ships would engage the Aetherian forces, seeming to endure defeats while inflicting minimal losses.

"Interesting plan, Lelouch," Fafnir mused, his tone a mixture of intrigue and approval. He leaned slightly closer to the holographic displays, his gaze locked onto the complex web of data before him. "You aim to make them question our strength, to manipulate their perceptions."

Lelouch's confident smile revealed his satisfaction. "Indeed, your Majesty. We shall orchestrate a performance where victory appears just beyond their grasp, yet our strength remains intact. This illusion will sow doubt and confusion among their ranks."

Fafnir's expression softened into a smile. "And the complexity of managing these countless artificial intelligence forces?"

Lelouch's eyes glinted with resolve. "I can micromanage the septillions of forces across the thousands of galaxies of the Imperium, your Majesty. Honkai energy grants me the capabilities to synchronize and control them as if they were extensions of my own thoughts."

Fafnir nodded in approval. "It's a bold plan, Lelouch. You're willing to sacrifice our ships to gain the upper hand."

Lelouch's voice held an unwavering determination. "Sacrificing ships is a loss only in materials, not lives. And with our technological advancements, we can build and deploy ships at an unprecedented rate."

A moment of understanding passed between the two leaders. Fafnir's smile deepened. "You have my approval, Lelouch. Show them that the Imperium Dominus does not falter easily."

Lelouch's eyes gleamed with a mix of anticipation and confidence. "Just wait for victory, your Majesty."

With that declaration, Lelouch saluted and teleported back to his flagship, leaving the Emperor of the Imperium Dominus alone in the holographic chamber. Fafnir's gaze lingered on the intricate displays, his mind contemplating the vastness of the cosmos and the ever-evolving strategy that would define the fate of galaxies.

43.2 The First Promethean

In the sprawling expanse of the Galaxy of Sola, known as the Oscar Theatre of War, the symphony of preparation unfolded. Quadrillions of ships patrolled the cosmic domain, their formations a testament to calculated precision. Within the very fabric of space itself, Dimensional Fortresses emerged like cosmic sentinels, poised to spring into action at a moment's notice. Stars twinkled in their celestial dance, asteroids and planets swirled in orchestrated motion, and the entire galaxy seemed to transform into a natural fortress under the skilled hand of artificers and architects.

At the epicenter of this intricate symphony stood Lelouch vi Britannia, the Grand Strategist of the Imperium Dominus. Draped in a noble white and gold Marshal Uniform, he bore the emblem of a floating Blue Miniature crown—a symbol of his status as the Herrscher of Reason. The Knights of the Round, his trusted companions, flanked him on the bridge of his flagship, a bastion of command and power.

Among these knights was Suzaku Kururugi, the Knight of Zero, and Lelouch's cherished childhood friend. As the echoes of their camaraderie resounded, Lelouch turned his attention to Suzaku. "Suzaku, how fares your time within the Imperium Dominus?"

Suzaku's gaze held a mixture of respect and admiration as he replied, "Lelouch, the Imperium Dominus embodies the ideals I've longed to uphold since my days in the Britannian forces. Its warring nature is, paradoxically, a vehicle for equality and justice. Conquest becomes a means to spread fairness across the galaxies."

Lelouch's inquisitive nature then sought deeper insights. "And how has your transformation, the Genetic Modification and the ascension through Honkai energy, affected you, Suzaku?"

A sense of purpose and confidence exuded from Suzaku as he shared his experience. "It's been an incredible journey, Lelouch. I've achieved a level of strength where I can face Astartes, even their Captains, without the aid of weaponry. His Royal Highness Titus Thunderwrath himself engaged in sparring, showcasing the Imperium's benevolence. The gift of immortality is now mine, a remarkable evidence to the Imperium Dominus's boundless capabilities."

Lelouch's inquiry delved further, unearthing Suzaku's unique identity. "Promethean, they call you. A transformation bestowed by His Majesty. How does it feel to be the first of your kind?"

Suzaku's voice held a touch of pride and understanding as he answered, "Indeed, Lelouch. As the first Promethean, my physical strength may not match that of the Angels of Death, but I possess unparalleled speed and an innate connection to the Honkai energy. It's an affinity that feels natural, like an extension of my being."

"I am known as a Herrscher—a Ruler. The translation from German aptly captures the essence of my power. As the Ruler of Reason, I possess the capability to manifest anything that humanity's ingenuity can produce. My strength lies in strategic thinking and ranged combat."

Suzaku's laughter resonated, carrying the familiarity of long-standing friendship. "You've always excelled in the mental arena, Lelouch. It's amusing to think of you as the weaker one physically now."

Suzaku's curiosity then turned to the nature of their transformations. "Considering the power you wield, aren't we all Prometheans in a way?"

Kallen Stadtfield, a member of the Knights of the Round and the 2nd Promethean, chimed in with a nod. "Indeed, Suzaku. I stand as the 2nd Promethean after you. But my allegiance lies with the God Emperor and the Imperium Dominus, not my Britannian heritage."

Lelouch, with a knowing smile, addressed Kallen's choice to join their ranks. "Ah, Kallen, always one to question authority. It's intriguing how you've embraced the role of a Knight of the Round despite your history with Britannia."

Kallen's response was firm, her loyalty steadfast. "I serve the God Emperor and the Imperium Dominus, not a past I've long outgrown. And it's you, Lelouch, who leads us as the Grand Strategist of the Imperium Dominus."

Their camaraderie was evident, the thread of familiarity woven into their interactions. In their original world, Suzaku had stood as Lelouch's rival, while Kallen had been his trusted personal guard. The transformation of their world under the Imperium's influence had solidified their belief in its fairness and just governance.

43.3 The Oscar Theatre Massacre

The familiar harmony of their conversation was abruptly shattered as the seamless imaginary space surrounding them was violently severed. Lelouch's astute perception quickly grasped the situation. "Ah, the typical Aetherian trickery—cutting off our connection to the Imaginary Space. No longer will they hinder us in this manner. However, I must admit, with the Imaginary Space connection, we are indeed an unstoppable force. But let's not forget our purpose here. General Quarters!"

With Lelouch's command, the atmosphere in the command center shifted. A sense of purpose and alertness hung in the air as the Knights of the Round and the crew members readied themselves for the unfolding events.

As the tension in the command center mounted, the Knights of the Round swiftly dispersed throughout Lelouch's flagship. The vessel was a lone beacon of life amid a sea of A.I.-controlled ships, each meticulously overseen by Lelouch's extraordinary micromanagement skills. Suzaku positioned himself closely behind Lelouch, his vigilant presence serving as a steadfast shield. Meanwhile, Kallen took up her post just outside the bridge, vigilant and ready to defend against any threat that might emerge from the corridors.

The Prometheans, a formidable force in their own right, possessed strengths comparable to the legendary Astartes. Their combat prowess and capabilities made them a match for even the Immortal Royal Guards of the Aetherians, further reinforcing the unyielding resolve of the Imperial forces as they prepared to confront the looming danger posed by the Aetherians.

The interstellar battleground erupted into a chaotic symphony of war as millions of Aetherian spaceships flooded the scene, showcasing their diamond-shaped vessels among the newer class of ships. Lelouch's tactical genius shone through as he deftly maneuvered the Imperium's fleet, orchestrating their movements like a grand chessboard. The Imperium's vessels seemed to falter, but these apparent weaknesses quickly repaired themselves, all part of Lelouch's calculated strategy.

Amid the intense space battle, Lelouch enticed the Aetherians by baiting them to push against the middle of his formation. It was a deliberate ploy, one that led the Aetherians into a trap. The dark matter sub-energy system of the Imperium's ships thwarted any attempts at boarding parties, a defense mechanism that proved instrumental in repelling the enemy's advances.

As the Aetherian middle fleet surged forward, reinforced by waves of additional ships, Lelouch appeared to cede ground, allowing them to push deeper into the formation. But then, a sudden shift in strategy unfolded. A new fleet emerged from below, flanking the Aetherian forces that had become ensnared in the middle. This multidimensional approach created a three-dimensional battleground, where lasers, plasma, cannons, flayers, rockets, and nuclear warheads filled the void with destruction.

Amidst the ongoing clash of fleets, the annihilation of the Aetherian middle fleet was swiftly replenished as fresh forces surged into the void of space. A combined attack from the wings of the Aetherian forces commenced, aiming to exploit potential weaknesses in the Imperium's formation. Yet, Lelouch remained vigilant and decided to counter their strategy with resolve.

"I see you're targeting our wings now, but I won't allow it," Lelouch declared, determination evident in his voice. The opposing Aetherian fleet pushed hard against the wings of the Imperium's formation, attempting to breach their defenses. However, Lelouch's response was swift and calculated. He reinforced the wings of his formation, transforming them into impenetrable walls that thwarted the Aetherian assault.

Recognizing the futility of their immediate approach, the Aetherians chose a more cautious path, opting for a temporary stalemate. After a brief period of tension, the Aetherians shifted their focus to the left wing of Lelouch's formation. Their spaceships swarmed the area, launching relentless attacks in an attempt to exploit any potential vulnerabilities.

The battle resembled a strategic chess game played out in the expanse of space. Each maneuver by one side was met with a calculated countermove, showcasing the meticulous planning and adaptability of both forces. Punch after punch, it seemed as if the Imperium had invested a considerable effort into fortifying this sector, effectively forming an intricate dance of strategy and tactics.

As the relentless space battle continued for several days, both the Aetherian and Imperium forces saw their numbers swell to an astonishing quadrillions. In the midst of this vast cosmic clash, the long-awaited appearance of the Aetherian flagship marked a crucial turning point. Lelouch's intricate plan was about to come to fruition, guiding his adversaries toward their impending doom.

With a calculated grin, Lelouch observed the arrival of the enemy flagship. The colossal vessel possessed a diamond shape, its surface gleaming with a prismatic brilliance that set it apart from the rest of the Aetherian fleet. This moment signaled the opportune time for Lelouch to set his final maneuvers in motion, maneuvering the vast Imperium forces like pieces on a cosmic chessboard.

"Excellent, it's time to lead them to their doom," Lelouch declared with a composed and unwavering demeanor. His eyes remained focused on the prismatic flagship, knowing that his intricate strategy was reaching its culmination. The stage was set, and Lelouch was prepared to orchestrate the final moves of this epic galactic conflict, leveraging his strategic genius to secure victory for the Imperium Dominus.

In the midst of the relentless space battle, Yar'Beri, one of the Aetherian leaders, contemplated the Imperium's movements with a sense of curiosity and awe. The strategic brilliance displayed by the Imperium forces under the guidance of their enigmatic Grand Strategist, Lelouch vi Britannia, was undeniable. Despite the loss of nine fleets, Yar'Beri couldn't help but admire the calculated tactics that had been employed.

Yar'Beri's commanding voice resonated within the Aetherian flagship's command center as he issued orders to his subordinates. "Push the middle formation and prepare for a targeted attack on the enemy's right wing," he commanded, his tone determined and resolute. He knew that facing the Imperium was not a simple matter, and their adversary was anything but ordinary.

Lelouch, stationed on his flagship's bridge, had anticipated the Aetherians' movements. His strategic mind was one step ahead, foreseeing the commander's decisions and reacting swiftly. "Excellent, it's a competent commander," Lelouch remarked with a wry smirk. He understood that Yar'Beri was no novice, recognizing the subtle signs of the Imperium's deliberate maneuvers.

"Dimensional Fortress 3, open fire on sector 5," Lelouch ordered, his voice calm and composed. His fingers danced across the holographic console before him as he executed the plan he had devised. Moments later, the Dimensional Fortress unleashed its devastating firepower upon sector 5, obliterating a significant portion of the Aetherian fleet stationed there.

"He should start attacking the right wing soon," Lelouch mused, his eyes sharp as he continued to monitor the unfolding battle. His prediction proved correct as the Aetherian forces intensified their assault on the Imperium's right wing, seeking to exploit what they perceived as a vulnerability.

"Tsk, a Dimensional Fortress!" Yar'Beri's voice reflected his frustration at the Imperium's advanced weaponry. However, he remained undeterred, fully aware that Lelouch would have to withdraw the fortress after the strike. Adjusting his strategy, Yar'Beri commanded, "Left wing, push harder!"

In the midst of the unfolding space battle, Lelouch's strategic mind was at work, and he orchestrated a deceptive move that would put his opponent in a precarious position. He reinforced the majority of his left-wing space ships to the right, creating a seemingly weaker formation on the left side. This was a calculated maneuver to entice his adversary into making a decisive move.

"Now, would you take the bait?" Lelouch murmured to himself, a confident smirk gracing his lips as he held the black king chess piece in his hand. He knew that his opponent, Yar'Beri, was watching closely, and he anticipated that his cunning strategy might just pay off.

The moment Yar'Beri observed the apparent weakening of the Imperium's right wing, he saw an opportunity and seized it. "His right wing is weakened. Immortal Royal Guard Fleet, smash it and attack their flagship!" Yar'Beri's voice resonated with determination as he ordered the elite fleet into action. The Royal Guard Fleet charged with determination, seeking to exploit what seemed like a vulnerability.

Lelouch, however, had anticipated this move as well. "That's the first check," he commented with a sense of satisfaction. He was fully aware that his adversary was playing a high-stakes game of chess across the vast expanse of space.

"Dimensional Fortress 2, open fire on sectors 1 to 3," Lelouch commanded with precision. As instructed, the Dimensional Fortress emerged from the void and unleashed its devastating firepower on the designated sectors. Explosions and chaos ensued as the attack struck home, obliterating a significant portion of the Aetherian forces.

The Aetherians, having anticipated the Imperium's tactics, were ready for the Dimensional Fortress to appear. "Smash the Dimensional Fortress!" Yar'Beri's orders were swift and precise. The fabric of space itself seemed to collapse around the Dimensional Fortress, causing it to vanish along with the devastating firepower it possessed.

As the battle continued to unfold in the cosmic theater, Lelouch executed his carefully crafted plan, intentionally allowing a few more of his ships to be lost in what seemed like kamikaze attacks. This strategic sacrifice was meant to convey the illusion of weakness, luring Yar'beri into a sense of overconfidence.

Gradually, Lelouch's flagship began to retreat towards the center of the galaxy. Yar'beri, smelling victory, saw an opportunity to corner the Grand Strategist. "The Imperium has lost its strength! All Armadas, capture that flagship. I want to present the Grand Strategist's head on a platter for my King to see!" Yar'beri's arrogance was evident as he issued his orders, confident that victory was within his grasp.

"Come, chase me," Lelouch's voice resonated with a mixture of challenge and amusement. He strategically placed the black king piece in a corner of the metaphorical chessboard where many pieces were positioned. This move held a hidden meaning, a signal to those who understood the game.

As the Aetherian armada closed in on the artificial solar system,

"Patch me through to the enemy flagship," Lelouch's voice echoed with an air of authority. The request piqued Yar'Beri's curiosity, and he begrudgingly allowed the communication to proceed. Lelouch's face appeared on the screen, a calm and calculated expression on his features.

"Greetings, Aetherian Commander. You must know by now that I am Lelouch Vi Britannia," Lelouch's voice was composed and deliberate.

"Are you here to surrender to the great Yar'Beri?" Yar'Beri retorted with a hint of arrogance, eager to revel in what he believed was his imminent triumph.

Lelouch's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Yar'Beri, is it? Not so much a surrender, but a farewell. Listen well, Yar'Beri. Us Dominians have an interesting board game called Chess. In order to win, we must checkmate the enemy King. This means the enemy King must be in check and have no escape left."

The implications of Lelouch's words began to sink in, unsettling Yar'Beri. "What are you trying to say, Dominian?!" Yar'Beri's voice wavered with a mix of confusion and concern.

Lelouch's smile remained unwavering. "I'm saying this is checkmate for you, froggy." With that cryptic declaration, Lelouch abruptly cut off the intercoms, leaving Yar'Beri to contemplate the true depth of his opponent's strategy. The pieces on the cosmic chessboard had been moved into position, and Lelouch's calculated gambit was about to reveal itself in its entirety.

In a matter of seconds, the cosmic stage was set for Lelouch's final move. From the concealed highways of dark matter emerged an overwhelming force of Imperium Dominus spaceships, surrounding the once formidable Aetherian armada. The sudden appearance of this colossal reinforcement shifted the balance of power irrevocably.

"Checkmate!" Lelouch's triumphant declaration echoed as he confidently knocked the black king piece off the chessboard, signifying the culmination of his meticulously orchestrated strategy.

"Fire the Black Hole Emitters! I want none of these frogs left alive!" Lelouch's orders were swift and unyielding, setting in motion a chain of events that would seal the fate of Yar'Beri and his armada.

Yar'Beri's panic was palpable, a frantic plea urging his fleet to warp away. "Your excellency, we cannot open the warp!" his adjutant's voice trembled with dread.

Frustration and desperation gripped Yar'Beri as he barked his next command. "Then open fire!"

Yet, his attempts to evade were thwarted. Lelouch's careful planning had ensured that even the Aetherians' most desperate maneuvers would fail. The space around them seemed to warp and twist, some Aetherian ships being displaced and thrust into the midst of Lelouch's awaiting armada, where they met their swift demise under a barrage of projectiles.

Lelouch's amusement was evident in his smirk as he revealed his masterstroke. "You don't really think only you can cut off FTL travel, do you?" The taunt was accompanied by a self-assured grin. "Aetheric Disruption Fields, courtesy of yours truly, with some help from the artificers."

As the Aetherian armada struggled to escape, they were ensnared by the irresistible pull of the black holes. The monstrous gravitational forces emanating from Lelouch's armada's black hole emitters overwhelmed the Aetherians' ships, dragging them into oblivion. The once-mighty armada was annihilated within seconds, crushed under the immense weight of the black holes, their desperate attempts to flee met with utter futility.

In the grand cosmic game, Lelouch's strategic brilliance had reigned supreme. The cunning and meticulous planning had turned the tables on the Aetherians, their grand assault reduced to nothing more than a futile struggle against the inevitability of their own defeat.

The Massacre of the Oscar Theatre of War would forever be etched into the annals of history, a stark reminder of the relentless might of the Imperium Dominus under the guidance of the enigmatic Grand Strategist, Lelouch vi Britannia. The battle had been a devastating blow to the Aetherians, leaving a significant portion of their forces shattered and decimated.

The once formidable Aetherian armada, led by Yar'Beri, had been lured into a masterfully designed trap by Lelouch. His strategic brilliance and careful manipulation of the battlefield had turned the tide of the conflict decisively in favor of the Imperium. The Aetherians' hopes of victory had been crushed beneath the relentless onslaught of Lelouch's forces.

Yar'Beri's name would be forever associated with the disastrous defeat, a name spoken with a mix of shame and anger by the Kings of the Aetherians. His reputation as a trusted general had been tarnished by his role in the devastating loss, and he would be forever remembered as the commander who led his forces into a trap they could not escape.

43.4 The Massacre of the Oscar Theatre of War by Archibald Chrono

Imperial Year 0250 marked a turning point in the grand tapestry of the cosmos, as the Imperium Dominus and the Aetherians clashed in the Oscar Theatre of War. This celestial battleground became the backdrop for an epic confrontation that would leave an indelible mark on the annals of history.

Lurking at the helm of the Imperium's might was the enigmatic Grand Strategist, Lelouch vi Britannia. His name would echo through time as a symbol of unmatched brilliance and tactical ingenuity. In stark contrast, the Aetherians, ancient beings who wielded the very forces of nature, were led by the once-trusted General Yar'Beri.

As the conflict unfolded, it became evident that Lelouch's strategic prowess knew no bounds. With a calculated finesse reminiscent of a master orchestrating a symphony, he crafted a trap that ensnared the Aetherians in their overconfidence. The Imperium's formations seemed to falter, only to rise stronger, creating a bewildering mirage of weakness that masked a deadly undercurrent of power.

The Aetherian armada, brimming with arrogance and assured of their dominion over the cosmos, pushed forward relentlessly. Yet, this was the very momentum that Lelouch harnessed. With an almost poetic choreography, he led the Aetherians into a meticulously prepared battlefield. The Imperium's disruption fields, a testament to its technological prowess, denied the Aetherians escape as the trap sprung shut.

In an awe-inspiring display of might, the Imperium's Black Hole Emitters unleashed their devastating forces upon the Aetherian armada. The once-mighty fleet was consumed by the unyielding grasp of gravity, a spectacle of destruction that left no room for survival. The Massacre of the Oscar Theatre of War unfolded with a finality that echoed through the cosmos.

This pivotal moment in galactic history forever altered the balance of power. The Aetherians, humbled by defeat, were forced to reassess their once-unassailable position. Yar'Beri, whose name was forever etched into this catastrophic defeat, became a symbol of the consequences of underestimating the Grand Strategist.

Imperial Year 0250 stands as a testament to the indomitable spirit of the Imperium Dominus and the unmatched brilliance of Lelouch vi Britannia. The Massacre of the Oscar Theatre of War would resonate through time as a stark reminder that even the most formidable forces can be humbled by the strategic genius of a single mind.