Few anime endings have polarized fans like the conclusion of Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion. With its brilliant mix of mecha warfare, political intrigue, and moral ambiguity, Code Geass didn’t just entertain—it challenged. At the heart of this complex narrative is one question:
Was Lelouch vi Britannia right?
The “Zero Requiem” plan, the brainchild of Lelouch and Suzaku, aimed to create a global peace by turning Lelouch into a universally hated tyrant—only to have him publicly assassinated by “Zero” (now Suzaku in disguise). The theory was simple: unite the world through shared hatred and restore peace through cathartic closure.
But the execution was anything but simple. Lelouch faked betrayal, manipulated allies, caused deaths, destroyed empires, and crushed opposition, all to create a peaceful future. And he succeeded.
Or did he?
The ending raises uncomfortable questions:
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Does the end justify the means?
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Was the world truly better off?
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Is forced peace real peace?
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Was Lelouch seeking redemption or control?
Lelouch: From Revolutionary to Tyrant
Lelouch began as a teenager with a sharp mind and a Geass—the power to compel absolute obedience. His initial rebellion against the Britannian Empire was deeply personal: to avenge his mother, protect his sister Nunnally, and dismantle a corrupt system.
But over time, his path grew darker. He manipulated soldiers, friends, even family. He orchestrated war and chaos under the identity of Zero, a masked vigilante. Eventually, he abandoned Zero to rule as Emperor Lelouch, turning into the very symbol of oppression he once opposed.
Was it hypocrisy or strategy?
By becoming the villain, Lelouch intended to take all the world’s hatred onto himself—so that his death would end conflict and unite people. It’s a disturbing echo of Orwellian logic: control to create freedom, lies to manufacture truth.
His sacrifice was real. His intent, noble. But the path? Morally explosive.
Suzaku’s Role: Necessary Evil or Hypocritical Pawn?
Suzaku Kururugi—once Lelouch’s rival and ideological opposite—ultimately became his closest ally in Zero Requiem. Despite initially despising Lelouch’s methods, Suzaku accepted the mantle of Zero and the duty of killing his best friend for the greater good.
Suzaku believed in working within the system, while Lelouch believed in tearing it down. In the end, both compromised. Suzaku became what he hated—a killer behind a mask. His transformation suggests that idealism can’t always survive reality.
Yet Suzaku’s final act raises questions:
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Did he betray his own values?
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Or did he evolve by realizing Lelouch’s way was the only way?
Either way, he is burdened to live as the eternal symbol of hope—ironically built on deception and death.
The Morality of Zero Requiem: Does the End Justify the Means?
Here lies the ethical core of the debate.
Lelouch’s actions included:
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Manipulating the Black Knights
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Sacrificing innocent lives
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Brainwashing (even Euphemia, by accident)
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Toppling world powers
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Lying to and using Nunnally
And yet… peace followed.
Critics argue:
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Real peace can’t be built on blood and lies
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Lelouch became what he hated
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He played god with millions of lives
Supporters respond:
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He sacrificed himself for the world
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He gave humanity a second chance
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Only a monster could end monsters
Zero Requiem is a classic utilitarian act: maximize happiness for the greatest number by sacrificing the fewest. But Lelouch didn’t just kill others—he died too. The question is not just whether he was right, but whether we would have done the same.
Philosophical Roots: Machiavelli, Nietzsche, and the Will to Power
Lelouch’s decisions mirror real-world philosophical debates. His belief that power is meant to protect, not dominate, echoes the ideals of Machiavelli’s The Prince—where rulers must sometimes do evil for the good of their people.
There’s also a strong Nietzschean undertone: Lelouch creates his own morality, transcending human limits to act as a Übermensch—an individual who redefines what is right and wrong based on vision, not tradition.
Yet, unlike cold dictators, Lelouch is emotionally burdened. He weeps, hesitates, regrets. His tragedy is not just his death, but the heavy cost of choosing to act when others wouldn’t.
Was the Peace Worth It?
In the epilogue, the world seems better: wars have ceased, nations work together, and Nunnally lives in a peaceful world. But there’s no guarantee that peace will last—or that people will not question the nature of Lelouch’s rule and fall.
More importantly, Lelouch robbed the world of accountability. Instead of making nations answer for injustice, he became the scapegoat. That can unify people temporarily, but it doesn’t heal deeper wounds.
His plan also created a dangerous precedent: the idea that control through fear and martyrdom is a legitimate route to peace.
Conclusion: Hero, Villain, or Something More?
Was Lelouch right?
Yes—if you believe peace is worth any price.
No—if you believe methods define the outcome.
Maybe—because his world was one of impossible choices.
Lelouch vi Britannia was not a hero in the traditional sense. He was an architect of chaos, a martyr, a manipulator, and a visionary. The Zero Requiem worked—but only because he was willing to become everything he once despised.
In the end, the question isn’t just Was Lelouch right?
It’s Could anyone else have done better?
And the silence that follows… is the true tragedy of Code Geass.