[REMODELED] main community

[The video feed clicks on, but this time Cornelia isn't staring at the screen to address her audience. No, she is busy clicking a mouse in a bored manner, her hair framing the side of her face. The soft glow of a computer screen reflects in her eyes, the communication device discarded at her side on the table.]

I don't recognize most of these books in the library. Some of my favorite Britannian authors aren't listed in this machine. Just how outdated is this technology? Even the Elevens had nicer computers than this.

[A lethargic sigh and Cornelia's other hand moves to rest her forehead against it. It appears she probably has been at this computer lab for a fair amount of time.]

This so-called therapy takes place tomorrow. Anyone care to share what this therapy is?

[This all had to be Schneizel's doing. For one, Lelouch wasn't stupid enough to try to put her in a mental ward with the illusion that everything that had happened was merely a fabrication of her comatose mind. Only one who wished to rewrite a history with her would be ignorant enough to do such a thing. However, Cornelia li Britannia decides the best thing to do is to play along with this foolish game. Cooperation with her enemies was one subject this fighter normally would be unable to stomach, but this was something she must do for answers.]

[Click. Dull colored orbs stare blankly at the video screen. She screws her lips together distastefully as she ponders on how to begin this recording. Being constantly monitored. It was as though she was the Emperor's puppet once again.]

A fiction of the mind. I don't believe in that for a moment.

[Well, she would try her best to get along with her foe. It was only natural of her to show some resistance as the fire burns passionately in her eyes, narrowing her gaze.]

I remain unclear of several things and choose to remain neutral to any ideas presented to me. I am either a devil or an angel, nothing in-between.

[Such nonsense was courtly enough to remind her of her dear brother Clovis. Was he not real? If Clovis wasn't real, then Schneizel wasn't real. If Schneizel wasn't real, then Euphie...]

[A sudden choke forces itself from her throat at the mere thought of an existence without Euphemia. Bringing her thumb up over the buttons, she disconnects the feed, unable to continue with this charade momentarily.]