Code Geass: Dawn of the Patriots
Born from betrayal, forged in fire, destined for dominion.
Charles zi Britannia scattered his seed across a sprawling empire of wives and concubines, birthing a brood of princes and princesses who clawed, conspired, and connived for their father's favor. Among this viper's nest of royal blood emerged Bartholomew Britannia—a cipher wrapped in ceremony, a ghost haunting gilded halls.
But Bartholomew was no mere shadow. Where his siblings squabbled over scraps of attention, he studied systems. Where they indulged in excess, he embraced erasure. The phantom prince who watched, waited, and wondered: What if the throne itself was the cage?
Then came the conflagration—an assassination attempt that consumed half his face, melted flesh into a grotesque mask of ambition. In that crucible of agony, Bartholomew died. From those ashes arose something far more dangerous: a man who had gazed into the abyss of mortality and found it lacking.
Now he moves through the machinery of empire like a virus through code. His plan? Not merely to seize the throne, but to become the throne—to dissolve the distinction between ruler and realm, to transform Britannia into a single, perfect will. His will.
Zero tolerance. Zero mercy. Zero difference between vision and reality.
For Bartholomew believes what others dare not whisper: that true power lies not in commanding men, but in erasing choice itself—in constructing a world where every subject, every soldier, every soul moves as extensions of one consciousness. One purpose. One Prince.
The royal family still sees him as the scarred scholar, the damaged dreamer. They do not yet understand that Bartholomew Britannia has transcended such primitive distinctions as ambition or madness.
He is the future, patient, and inevitable.
And the future always arrives.
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