Endless Winter in Neo-Sydney: A Neon Genesis Evangelion Quest

You sit in the cargo hold of the VTOL aircraft. Staring out the window made the entire trip at least somewhat bearable, the frozen tundras you're crossing over making for quite a spectacle. And then in the distance you see it – Sydney. The largest city in the entire world these days, not that that's saying much. Surrounded by the wasteland of the abandoned outer city, the inner city shines out like a beacon, bright lights all around, and skyscrapers reaching up to the clouds. And in the centre, a metal pyramid. You recognize it as NERV HQ, the place of your new job.

The year is 2058, and it's been 40 years since second impact. An asteroid strike hitting the north pole, annihilating all life in the northern hemisphere, and unleashing extreme climate events in the southern hemisphere, wiping out huge swathes of the population. Australia was mostly reduced to a frozen wasteland, temperatures easily reaching -30C at night, and rarely going above frozen even in summer. And it is considered the most hospitable of the four southern continents.

It took decades for government to establish itself, but eventually order was restored, at least in places. The new federation of Australia lays claim to all Australia, New Zealand and the rest of southern Oceania, but practically they only really have a setup in Melbourne, Auckland and the de-facto capital of Sydney. Life under Australian law is harsh, but generally safe from the anarchy of the uncontrolled areas. And their hydroponic farms tend to ensure a steady food supply, the main factor for people migrating to the cities from their remote towns surviving by hunting and gathering in the tundras and wastelands.

However, in the past year, attacks from strange monsters, which became known as angels (for reasons you aren't entirely sure of), began. These strange, massive, biological beings would rise from the ocean and lay waste to cities, seemingly going out of their way to cause as much destruction as possible. There have been three so far, each one more destructive and harder to kill than the last. Their bodies nearly indestructible from the mysterious effect known as their "AT Field", a barrier they project over their bodies to block damage. After the last remaining functioning nuclear weapon from before impact was deployed in a last-ditch attempt on the third angel, the government agreed that a change in tactics was needed.

The Evangelion project was developed, giant mechas infused with some kind of machinery that allows them to bypass the AT Fields of angels. For some reason, piloted by teenagers. Teenagers like you. The reason given is that only young and developing brains have the neural plasticity required to operate an Evangelion, but…

Frankly this all sounds a little too suspicious for your tastes. Wild conspiracy theories have always been the big craze in the post second impact world, but almost everyone agrees that the official story about everything from second impact, to the angels, to the Evangelion project, just seems a little off. You're inclined to agree with them to be honest – but maybe you'll find out a bit more of the truth in this world with your new life as an Eva pilot. And maybe save the world from Angels while you're at it.

But who are you, anyway?

You're a 13 year old, named

[x] [Write-in]

and you're a

[x] Male

[x] Female

And as for your story, well…

[x] The Prodigy

The government sent out mass testing for everyone under the age of 16, to see if they were "Sync Positive", or able to interface with an Evangelion unit. Your life was fairly average, being raised by your parents and older sister in Melbourne, under the safe watch of the government, but it turns out on these tests that your scores were off the charts. So much so that you destroyed the machine they hooked you up to test you with.

Once said machine blew up, you were whisked away for more tests than you can even remember and were soon requested to join the Eva program as a pilot. You came along voluntarily, because you had a suspicion that if you didn't, you'd end up coming along involuntarily.

[x] Wastelander

Born to a large family surviving deep in the Australian Tundra, a life of survival and harsh conditions is all you've ever known. From as long as you could walk, you've been helping your family make life in their homestead, hunting with your ancient bolt-action rifle, skinning and cooking animals, and living the life of a survivalist. Learning to read from the few books brought back from trading runs to the closest town (closest being a 4 hour trek away).

Fortunately, you took the lifestyle well. Really well. Your aim is unmatched, your constitution strong, and your grit levels are off the proverbial charts.

When you were 11, a travelling band of bandits invaded your home, those who made their living off pillaging small towns and families in the wastes. You killed them yourself, shooting 4 and stabbing the remaining 2 to death.

Ever since then, you've become somewhat of a folk legend. They call you [Your name] of the Wastes in the area, and the general concensus is that you're going to do great things. They're a superstitious lot, the survivors, and do have a habit of attaching epithets to everyone, but maybe you really are just a little bit special.

When the government came all the way out to your part of the wastes, they found you sync-positive in, and had away with you in no time.

[x] Political Princess

You're the daughter of the leader of a rebel government, spanning tens of thousands of members at it's peak. From birth you have been given the highest quality food, shelter, and education, all provided due to your status as the sole offspring of the leader. You ate fine pre-impact preserved foods, had the finest tutors delivered to you, and everyone you knew growing up showed you the respect that they thought your station deserved.

But it wasn't to last. You and your people were branded terrorists by the Federation of Australia, and were conquered and annexed, your leadership being executed and jailed. You had spent only a week in prison while they debated what to do with you, but after they tested you for your sync status, it turned out to be positive. This took quite a burden of deciding off everyone involved, and in exchange for overlooking your past life, they inducted you straight into the Eva program as a pilot.

Your people don't have a very good reputation among the population here, but there are still some out there that saw you as a shining example of what a true state should be like. Some treat you with pity for being captive to such a cruel regime, others view you as the rightful heir to a sleeping nation.

[x] Write in

Or maybe you're none of these things. Maybe you're something else entirely. After all, this is a big world, and it's your story to tell, and who am I, the narrator, to tell you how it goes. Come up with whatever story you wish, and I shall endeavour to make it work. It's your choice to make, and any choice that you make is my favourite choice of all.

Calling the vote here. When we pick up steam, we'll get a little more formal with the voting system, and I'll call out times and deadlines, but for now, here we are.

Prologue Part 2

Your name is Eliza. Eliza of the Wastes. You brush away your shoulder-length auburn hair and pick against your stock issue military fatigues. They hadn't wanted you to go in your traditional furs and leather, but these slightly too large grey trousers and shirt are as stiff and uncomfortable as anything. And you already feel naked enough without a weapon on hand. You doubt you're going to get attacked by a snow bear while soaring through the sky, but you never can be too sure. Maybe you can pick up some new clothes and at least a knife of some kind once you get settled in. You vaguely remembering hearing something about being put in a house with the other pilots, whom you are yet to meet.

The VTOL closes in on the city. This is… more buildings than you have ever seen in your entire life. You disliked even the lights and bustle of Dawsburys, the trading town you used to go into (it had entirely a single pub and general store, and even so you felt out of place), but compared to it, Sydney is… huge. You fly over the outer city, an expanse of ruined buildings and the shanty towns and refugees that occupy it, people who travelled here for the promises of food and protection. People crowd around bonfires for relief from the oppressive cold and hole up in the concrete ruins of former apartment buildings. You see a long line leading to a few trucks set up, presumably handing out food or other supplies.

You also catch some military constructions. Towers with racks of rockets at the top, radar dishes embedded in ruins. Strange metal buildings with thick cabling running from them all the way to the centre of the city.

You fly closer into the centre of the city. You can see the main city now, huge glass skyscrapers dot the central district, lighting up the evening sky. You've read and even seen a few pictures of cities, both pre impact and current, but seeing it in person is something else entirely. People inside buzz around like ants, in their apartment buildings and offices and whatever other deeds people actually get up to inside these towers. You aren't really entirely sure what they're all doing to be honest.

And finally, you come up to the NERV HQ. A huge metal pyramid right on the coastline to the south of the city centre. Around it, an expanse of smaller buildings, antenna, hangars, and other assorted supplementary construction. The VTOL swoops down to one of the sides of the pyramid, where a landing pad juts right out of it.

The VTOL touches down on the landing pad, assisted by a few people waving around glowing sticks, performing some kind of aeroplane landing ritual. The cargo bay doors open, exposing you to the cold air outside. A formal looking woman in a suit and long jacket, wielding some kind of tablet computer, stands just inside the entry of the pyramid, and next to her stands an old looking fellow with greying hair and stubble, in military dress uniform. The woman beckons you over, and not seeing anything better to do right now, you follow along.

"Hello, hello, you must be Eliza. Eliza…" She looks down at her tablet. "Hm, I don't have a surname listed. We'll have to get that fixed up. But, anyway, I'm Amanda, senior administrator, and liaison, so I'll be the one taking care of you here at NERV, coordinating your training for the pilot program, and generally just sort of being your first point of contact. And this is Major Briggs, the operations director of the Evangelion program." Major Briggs gives a court nod. "He'll be in charge of actual deployment of the Evangelion units, as well as strategic planning and direction of the program as a whole".

Major Briggs continues. "Good to meet you". He looks you over. "Eliza. Of course, I want you and the other pilots in on the ground floor of all major strategic decisions that we're making. After all, you're the ones on the ground in this entire operation, so I want to take specific care to hear out your opinions and tactics. Hopefully, nobody will know the Evangelion units better than you, at least when your training is finished."

"But please, enough of that for now. We'll have all sorts of time to discuss the finer details in orientation. Let's get out of this cold and indoors, I'm sure we can fix you up with a coffee or hot chocolate from the cafeteria".

She leads you inside. The interior of NERV HQ is labyrinthine, and everywhere you look there are people buzzing around, from people in lab coats, to suits, to military uniforms, to the odd sweater-vest. Amanda continues to talk about plans for training, and talks about you're going to have to meet, the command structure of NERV, and how the program works in general. It makes you nervous, really, being in such a confined space.

You do eventually make it to the cafeteria. It's a fairly interesting place actually, not at all the drab mess-hall style thing you were expecting. It sits on the edge of the pyramid overlooking the city, with a large glass pane forming the entire west wall. Modern circular tables are spread around the hall, you and Major Briggs take a seat at one of them, while Amanda heads over to the counter, presumably to source you said hot drink.

"I hope this isn't too… intimidating for you" Major Briggs says. "I'm not too… happy about it myself, to be honest. Getting children to do the fighting. It doesn't feel completely right, but, well, I guess my ways died with the old world. Still, since I don't think anyone has actually asked you. How are you feeling about all of this, then?"

Indeed, how are you feeling?

[x] Fucking incredible.

You're going to be piloting a giant robot, beating up monsters, saving the world. And you're pretty much the most important person in the entire world. How could things not be great? Bad things don't happen to you, only good things. You can't wait to get in that robot and start chopping up some angel.

[x] Stressed

You've been whisked away from your family and your life, taken to this big city and told that you're the only one who can pilot a giant robot to save the world. You think, under these circumstances, that it would be okay if you're a little stressed.

[x] Determined

Yeah, you guess things aren't great. But everyone has to do the duty to the world, including you. In the wastes, you always did what you had to do. Here is no different. You can handle the pressure, you're Eliza of the Wastes, and killing an angel is just like killing a snow bear, only bigger. You'll do whatever it takes, no matter what you have to sacrifice for it.

[x] Cold

You're fine. Why wouldn't you be fine? You're always fine. Emotions are for suckers, and you sure as hell aren't a sucker. The wasteland makes short work of those who can't put up with life, and there's no room for excess feelings and emotions in this world.

[x] Bubbly

You have to admit, this is all kind of… fun. You're learning new things, meeting new people, being an important part in a big machine. Isn't it exciting! You can't wait to see what lies next.

[x] Write In

Who knows how you're feeling? Only you can answer that question. Pretty much anything within reason accepted. If you wish, make her your own.

Oh, and what was your surname again?

[x] Blackburn

[x] Write In

[x] No Surname

Your people are mononymic. If people truly need to distinguish you from another Eliza, they can call you Eliza of the Wastes, like your people back home did.