Well gentlemen, I'm a few days overdue (expect that to be routine now as we have caught up with my existing material on the matter) but it's here, all 6000 glorious words of an update.
The time has come for round 2 with Heir Ramiel, the third eldest of the Sovereign's children...
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02:15pm, Great British Empire, Imperial home islands, Leopard, Parliament square.
To say the Imperial capital was impressive would be an understatement, even without the glorious rays of summer sun cascading over the heart of one of the mightiest nations man had ever created.
Leopard was truly a marvel of engineering, with great neo classical palaces, beautiful green parks, and neatly ordered Victorian style apartment blocks, rows of Georgian esque terrace houses, and an ordered road system. This coupled with a metro system both above and below ground, made travel quick and simple.
Attached to it, a great port with ships sailing in and out constantly, departing for the Empire's overseas territories or bringing back various and exotic items from said conquests. Above the city, floated the entire 1st airfleet, and in the waters of it's harbour, resided twenty warships of the Imperial Navy.
Only a fool would attack Leopard.
This was a city only made possible by the technology of the 21st century, along with the resources and manpower Britain had plundered during the creation of its vast Empire.
This was a city designed to make all foreign "barbarians" stand in awe of Imperial power, of a city built through the sweat of both Imperial natives, and pressed into work subjugated peoples. Who were instated as citizens and settled in the capital upon completion of the city, as reward for their services.
Today, the usually bustling city was quiet however.
For it was the Emperor's birthday, and he was making a speech.
His Imperial Britannic Majesty Charles Sebastian Vance, second Emperor of the British isles and its dominions, had withdrawn from the public eye after the successful conclusion of the Euro-Imperial and Federal-Imperial wars. Apart from the weekly government meetings in the palace of New Windsor, he wasn't seen much. But now, there he stood on that great platform, dressed in Marshal's uniform, a white cape designating his utmost importance. In front of him, behind him, and around him, stood hundreds of Imperial Guard, their navy blue coats and bearskins making them stand out in the crowd which had amassed to see their Monarch.
An instrumental version of "Lion's roar" played from loudspeakers, as the Emperor, with his beautiful Empress at his side, began to speak.
"Dear friends, subjects of Great Britain. The Imperial crown which resides upon my head, has only been made possible by your immeasurable loyalty to me and this country." A roar seemed to shake the foundations of the city itself, the crowd numbering in the tens of thousands basked in his words.
But Charles required silence. With the simple raising of his left hand, it seemed as if a great hush had fallen upon the world.
"Fifteen years it has been, since my father and his comrades in their infinite wisdom, birthed this great nation from the ashes of the old United Kingdom. The road has been long, it has been bloody, but as one we have become the greatest power this world has yet seen. And it has only been through your perseverance, for it was simply my privilege to guide you." He stretched out his right arm.
"Europe and America attempted to impede our destined glory, but look at them now! The continent cowers, it dares not provoke or insult us. Even the Federation holds its forked and fascist tongue, still bitterly remembering the hide whipping we gave it twelve years ago!" He swept his hand out to his side, as his people's screams of adulation reached fever pitch.
"I name you, conquerors of a fifth of the Earth, humblers of titans, my brothers and sisters. And I give thanks that you have deigned my few words worthy of your time. Thank you, all of you. And I bid you good day, fellow sons and daughters of the Empire. Hail Britain." His twenty-seven year old mouth curled into a smile as thousands upon thousands of voices screamed in jubilation of their Emperor, the man who had delivered them from the incompetent oppression of the continent, and genocidal savagery of the Federation.
"Hail Vance! Hail Britain!" They chanted again and again, as he turned away to walk back inside the palace of New Windsor, white cape fluttering behind him, his wife and Imperial Guardsmen quickly following.
"You haven't done anything like that since we defeated the Federation... and you're still amazing at it..." Abigail Vance, the second Empress of Great Britain, said in a tone of unsurprised disbelief mixed with fondness.
"Once one gains a grasp upon such things, you never lose it...still..." He cast a quick glance back at the crowds gathered outside New Windsor, the great doors sealing behind him.
"Not quite as good as my coronation speech. But it appears to do for them."
The corridors of the Imperial palace were magnificent. Great royal red carpets stretched across the entire complex, walls of brown marble with golden patterns engraved into them, supported by Corinthian columns of the same material flanking them displayed the wealth of the nation which built it.
Upon those walls, resided beautiful portraits.
Some retrieved from the ruins of London, some more recent, such as those of Terrence Cromford and the various generals who had won Britain an Empire. Granted, Charles mused, he had pulled the nation together in its time of need, set forth the strategy of conquest, and negotiated the treaties of Washington and Paris, but he was no soldier. More of an armchair general in his opinion.
One picture, among his favourites, did show a person he deemed a military genius.
High Field Marshal Alexander Meadow, fresh off his victory at the battle of Calais, cape and hair billowing in the wind, his men, the illustrious 7th army marching behind him in triumph.
How sad. To rise so far from losing a loved one, then to lose three more barely a few years later...
He stopped before another portrait, of a man with his hair and eyes sitting upon the Imperial throne with a cocksure grin.
One like that of Britain's current Emperor.
"Charles?" Abigail had taken his hand, noticing her husband's suddenly sombre expression.
"It's nothing."
A raised brown eyebrow from his Empress told him it would be discussed later. Whether he liked it or not.
Arriving at a set of impossibly ornate doors, as was fitting for a culture so obsessed with splendour, the Emperor was greeted by cries of "Hail Britain!" from a pair of guards, who pushed them open with a great creaking.
Gesturing with his hand to show acknowledgement, he walked through, arm in arm with the woman he loved.
This white room with stained glass windows and intricate golden patterns was the throne room, where in years gone past Charles would have sat, discussed, then dictated Imperial policy. Now he'd only appear every Friday or so, as the game of politics was boring to him these days. It was like he'd used up all his patience for it in the first year of his reign. On the other hand, that was to be expected from a man who'd been called up to rule when he was fifteen years old.
Charles had always felt like he'd done his bit for the nation, now he could relax.
Relax, and attend to a far greater task, his true magnum opus.
Raising a family.
"Hail Vance!" Roughly three hundred people fell to one knee, as their Lord and Liege walked through them.
The one hundred or so standing near the two Thrones at the other end of the room, were the Council of Marshals, the Empire's true rulers these days. They to whom the old order, what remained of the Conservatives, the Liberal Democrats, and Labour, were nothing but an advisory body to be listened to or ignored on a whim.
And even then, with no sense of irony, they bowed to the British Emperor.
Of course the other two hundred, the Imperial Parliament, tripped over themselves to pay homage to him. As was to be expected of career politicians. Whilst Charles smiled at them in a cordial manner, his mind grumbled.
Nothing more sycophantic than a Tory. Of all the things to endure Second Impact, why did it have to be them?
Abigail however, had a great deal more tolerance for Parliament. At least their sycophancy wasn't like that of the nobility, who were always gossiping behind her back simply for being common born, out of earshot of the Emperor for fear of his wrath, but would flatter her looks and clothing at every opportunity when faced with her.
At least the various MP's simply wanted favour.
Even then, many of the old Parliament did admire her looks. For whilst the Empress of Great Britain may not have been particularly stunning so to speak, she did possess a wholesome and natural beauty. Her long brown hair and eyes, matched her pretty young face well. This was further amplified by the white gown and navy blue cape she was wearing that day.
No jewellery or make up, Abigail Vance required none of those.
The couple reached their respective thrones and elegantly sat upon them, bearskinned Imperial Guards standing at their sides.
"Rise." Charles gestured with his hand. Three hundred people quickly stood up.
"Sire, we congratulate you on yet another year of your glorious life and reign. Hail Britain, hail Vance!" Marshal Barton said in his jolly tone as befitting of so large a man, his last four words being replicated by all save two in the room.
The Emperor gave a quiet chuckle before responding.
"My thanks, Barton. I'll make sure there is cake left for you."
There was a ripple of laughter.
Upon the end of it, a clean shaven man in his early forties stepped forth from the group of Marshals, his hair still somehow pure black despite the stressful nature of his position. And although his eyes were doughy brown, they swam in intelligence.
"Ah, Cromford." Charles nodded at the practical ruler of his Empire these days.
"Sire, your post speech entertainment has been prepared." Grand High Marshal Terrence Cromford bowed his head, having already fallen to one knee. This was while a footman brought the Emperor a crystal glass filled with wine, on a silver platter. The twenty-seven year old Lord picked up the glass before responding to his most faithful servant.
"Excellent. Begin." Charles gestured with his left hand, whilst his right adjusted its grip on his glass, the Italian blood red liquid sloshing around.
The only good thing those continental cowards know how to make is this...
Cromford nodded and clicked his fingers.
The great screen embedded on the other side of the wall flickered into life, showing a picture that not many had ever seen before. It was an image of hills, with two armoured titans hiding within their shadows, a great rifle pointed towards the capital city of Japan, and a strange diamond like creature which hovered above it.
"Sire...pardon me for my ignorance but what is this?" Nathan Coll, head of the Liberal Democrats, and MP for greater Northamptonshire, tilted his head.
"This, Nathan is an image from the other side of the world. Of Tokyo-3, where a great battle shall soon commence." Cromford folded his arms behind his back and watched the screen for a while.
"I thought Tokyo-3 had gone silent due to a Seraph attack, Marshal?"
"Indeed it has, in fact this-" Cromford pointed at the octahedron "-is the Seraph in question."
There was a chorus of muttering among the gathered members of the Imperial government. However, even then there was a great difference between the Marshals and MPs.
The true governors of the Empire, talked quietly and calmly among themselves, resplendent in their navy blue military regalia and white capes. Whilst Parliament was a good deal louder and in ordinary dress...well so far as expensive suits can be considered ordinary.
Thelma March, the Prime Minister herself, stammered as politely as possible to her Emperor.
"S-S-Sire, this is rather serious for entertainment. I mean...if NERV fails..."
"Indeed, quite exhilarating isn't it?" Charles smiled, as he leaned back into his comfortable throne.
"The fate of the world is about to be decided, and we, the governors of history's greatest Empire, are merely spectators." He chuckled, brushing aside a strand of his loose blonde hair.
A few others attempted to laugh with him, only to be shrill and forced.
Then, on the screen, there was movement.
Entry plugs slid out of their respective Evas, followed by shadowy but unmistakeably small forms clambering into them, before being sealed back inside the mighty God Machines.
"And so it begins." Cromford muttered aloud.
"Indeed..." The Emperor looked thoughtful for a few moments, gaining a look of concern from Abigail, before flashing his trademark grin.
"Let us give a toast and a prayer to our gallant defenders." He raised his glass at the screen, prompting others to perform the Imperial salute, one of placing a fist over their heart, towards Pilots Ikari and Ayanami.
Taking another sip of his wine, Charles managed to hide his inner turmoil, quickly glancing at his wife. She instantly understood, taking his hand in her own and squeezing it.
He squeezed hers back.
Powerless...I vowed never to let myself or my people feel such a way again. Oh Knights of NERV...
He looked at the screen again, his expression almost softening when thinking of the children inside those mighty Evangelions.
It is an awful thing our world demands of you. But for my little Alfred and Charlotte's sake...save us.
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10:30pm, State of Japan, Tokyo-3, fortified position 21
"Are you ready, Shinji-kun?" Misato's said over the video link.
"Probably not." Shinji said in a nervous but humoured manner, causing some chuckling on the other end.
"That'll have to do then. What about you, Ayanami-san?"
"I am ready." Rei whispered.
"Alright..." The purplehead nodded.
She, Ritsuko, the other observation deck staff, and bizarrely enough Doctor Tenka, were not sitting down in NERV central with the Commander, but in a mobile command centre not too far from the Evas. If this operation went wrong, at least they would die quickly. When questioned on his reasoning for being there, Tenka said "If we're victorious, I want to be on standby for any possible injuries. I'm a Doctor, it's my job."
"The operation is a go. Shinji-kun, prepare to fire. But keep in mind that when you do the Seraph will know where you are. Understood?"
"Ryokai." He confirmed, tightening his grip around his control sticks, the targeting system having been lined up.
I can't miss. Not now.
"Alright then. Engage at will." All Misato could do, was lean back and watch.
For the third time in less than a month, the world was in his hands. And by all the deities he was aware of, the boy resented it immensely. But now, he understood its necessity.
"Just line up the target...and pull the trigger..." He murmured to himself, his plug suited finger curling around the trigger in question, preparing to unleash a power the of a small solar flare upon mankind's nemesis.
Meanwhile, hovering above Tokyo-3, Ramiel continued to blast down into NERV Central, the orange light she produced illuminating a deep tunnel. A few more hours, and she would be there.
The Vooren must know I'm closing in...so why do you not act? No desperate bolt for safety, or last stand. Just silence...
She looked up at the night sky, watching for any sign of movement. But there was nothing. Even with her senses bizarrely off, the Divine hunter realised there truly was nothing. Nothing save for the heavens looking down upon her.
Hoer, Lord of all, Haamma, master of the battlefield, Firjioks, mistress of life anew, Aek, monarch of the life beyond this one, and my noble Ancestors...watch as I win the world back for us!
Ramiel would have smiled if she could have, as she knew all those little lights up there where candles upon the halls of the Gods's unending tables. There, everyone she loved who'd been lost in the calamity and the morning slaughter, were feasting, drinking and fighting for all eternity.
Yewey, Hectel...mother...
Her feelings hardened. The Vooren would pay for that transgression soon enough.
Still nothing, nothing but the silence of the night.
Pathetic weaklings...I could slay such a thing as this form in a heartbeat. On the other hand...Shkai were docile creatures, not nearly as bloodthirsty as me. She proverbially chuckled at that, remembering the great herds of diamond like creatures which harmlessly hovered over the great plains, taking sustenance from the earth beneath them. Although to provoke them...was a fool's errand.
She'd always admired them, their ability to utterly annihilate whatever irritated them in a heartbeat with pin point accuracy. And thus it had come as a great surprise, when father told her she could change into one of them.
Being one of the last remaining members of the old Aesylian Royal blood line, she possessed the power to do such a thing, as did the rest of her family. They could take multiple forms, but they had their preferred ones. Zeruel tended to take that of a mighty Llaa Tsreitf, befitting of his nature, and the same went respectively to her other brothers and sisters.
Father however, never changed his form, even though all knew he could. He only increased his size when the situation demanded it. Ramiel had seen the Lord Netzach grow to such a height, his shadow shrouded the land in darkness.
At least, as far as the eyes of someone with a medieval mindset could make out.
He's terrifying enough as it is without becoming a giant. Oh Vooren, how your armour would quail before his mere presence...
Speaking of which, she was still searching for it, the purple creature which had murdered her siblings, yet cowardly fled instead of facing death with dignity. Due to her reaching out to find him, the Heir actually took in her surroundings. Not the city, as impressive as it was even by Divine standards, but the surrounding countryside. The greenery and the hills.
How beautiful. You have been blessed to rule this world, even for so short an amount of time. Oh Rezel, how you will love it here...
Suddenly there was a change, a warm sensation pinging on her metaphorical spine.
Energy...
Ramiel knew what was happening. Somehow the enemy had caught her unaware.
Unaware, but not undefended.
Immediately, she unleashed a blast of energy at the source of whatever foreign and aggressive force was coming her way. At the moment she let fly, a beam of light surged towards her from a hilly area some leagues away. The two beams, unable to cancel the other out due to their sheer power, wrapped around each other and flew off in separate directions, her own beam vaporizing an unfortunate hill, and the Vooren drilling a new tunnel through a hapless mountain.
Good shot...I'm pleasantly surprised. Very well then Voor, shall we make a show of this?
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"Fuck!" Shinji cried out.
Fortunately he'd expected something like this to happen. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do about it.
"How long until recharge?" Misato barked.
"Twenty seconds and counting!" Maya responded, swiftly followed by Makoto calling out "enemy will be firing again immediately!"
Ritsuko sighed a resigned sigh, and lit another cigarette.
Shit... The purplehead turned back to the visual feed from Shinji's cockpit and watched the edge of the Seraph begin to glow a hellish red.
"Shinji-kun get out of there!"
"No...sorry...can't leave the rifle..."
If I'm going to die, let it be whilst I'm doing my duty...
This was their only chance. If they lost the rifle, humanity lost its existence. And so, he threw all his strength into his A-T field, waiting for the searing pain he would have to endure. The red light grew in intensity before it lanced out towards him again, its raw power illuminating Unit 01 in the pitch blackness. Then, a shadow was cast over it.
"Attend to the rifle. I will cover you." A quiet voice said.
Unit 00 had sprinted in front of the other Evangelion, presenting its shield towards the incoming blast. Much to the surprise of all the command staff, as the order for Rei to provide cover hadn't even been given yet...
Rei... His brain whispered in some relief...and horror.
The blast struck Unit 00 with full force, actually driving it back a few dozen metres, and yet it and its Pilot resolutely held firm against the Seraph's wrath. Rei hissed slightly as a feeling of one's skin curling up due to being superheated reverberated through her mind. Whilst she didn't feel pain like others, that didn't mean she felt nothing.
But still she held, the molten slag of her melting shield falling on her hands making them feel as if they were melting as well.
My A-T field is failing, I can only hold for a few more moments... She felt no fear. Death came for all things, that was the way of life. Her field was stripped away by hell fire, and now all the young albino could feel was pain and imminent death. And yet all she had to show for it, was more quiet hissing.
"Ayanami-san are you alright!?" Pilot Ikari's cried on her vid link over and over again.
Rei found herself responding, memories of this strange boy smiling at her, filling the unearthly child with something that resembled warmth.
Live on.
"Goodbye...Shinji." The blast enveloped her.
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"Rei!" Never before had he screamed as he did then. He'd lost her, just like mother. The last thing which could be regarded as a remnant of his family was gone forever.
The majority of the Seraph's energy had been taken up overwhelming the shield and Unit 00, so it harmlessly dissipated upon impact with Unit 01's own A-T field.
Now, in a strange way, Pilot Shinji Ikari and Heir Ramiel could look one another in the eye.
You...you...you! His vision narrowed, despite being blurred by tears. His concentration was now entirely fixed on the octahedron on the distance, the eldritch abomination which had caused him so much agony, terrorized his people, threatened to bring about the end of his civilisation, and stole his little sister from him. Now he would repay it ten fold.
I'll kill you...I'll kill you...I'll kill you...I'll kill you!
The rifle had recharged, the targeting system had locked, all he needed to do was pull the trigger.
Which Shinji Ikari did on that day with extreme prejudice.
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Two of them!? There's two of them!? Ramiel shrieked in surprise. Granted, even though the second armour was likely dead, it had shielded its comrade well. Were she not so surprised, the Heir would have approved of its self-sacrifice. There was no small amount of honour in dying for one's friends or loved ones.
However, this was overshadowed by the fact the enemy had two mighty weapons in its arsenal, meaning there could be even more. And any more of the kind of creature which slew Sachiel and Shamshel in straight up combat, was ill news indeed.
No...whilst its sacrifice was commendable, the other armour's annihilation was useless. The murderer of my brothers will die-
The positron rifle fired for the second time that day, just within the huntress's recharge time.
Shinji had found his window of opportunity beautifully. Although he didn't really know that, as he was far too busy screaming "die yokai" in a voice utterly alien to his personality.
The Seraph had no time to react, to fire back, or even move. She could only feel that beam come towards her, with inevitable speed and power.
My little Rezel...I'm so sorry...
Shinji's rage crashed through Ramiel's heart, death coming a few seconds later for the third eldest of the Divine Lord's children.
Your mother loves you Rezel, so so much...
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Misato and her subordinates watched the feed from Unit 01, some with alarm.
For Shinji was smiling a sadistic, satisfied grin upon watching his enemy crash into the ground. A grin that would frighten even him when he would gaze upon it a few days later. A grin that quickly vanished however, after seeing the singed, melted and ruined mess that was Unit 00. Jubilation in victory and revenge, quickly turned back to despair.
"Ayanami-san...can you hear me?" He said, heart broken.
No response.
"Misato-san...could you boost my signal to Unit 00?"
The Lieutenant Colonel in question felt her heart seize up.
Quickly glancing at Maya, she only got a slightly distraught shake of the head. This was whilst simultaneously managing to ignore to Ritsuko's slowly failing attempts at hiding her own grief. The faux blonde continued to get through cigarettes, providing a fortunate smokescreen to obscure her single tear.
"Shinji-kun, we haven't got any life signs..." Misato folded her arms. All comms with Unit 00 had ceased upon it being engulfed by Ramiel's power.
"No!" His fist slammed the side of the plug in rage and frustration, swiftly readjusting his grip on the control sticks and urging his Eva to rise.
"Ikari-san...she couldn't have survived that. No one could-" Tenka said gently, having brought himself over to the comms, trying to make the young man face an unpleasant truth.
"She is alive damn it!" Shinji shrieked as the purple monster thundered towards its stricken colleague, prog knife sliding out from its back.
"Lieutenant Colonel, I could cut the power if..." Maya stopped mid sentence as Misato raised a hand.
"That'll be unnecessary, Lieutenant. He deserves to see anyway..."
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He sliced through its back like a knife through butter, much to his despair. The armour was weak, almost liquid. Hopefully the same thing would not be said of its occupant.
Shinji knew about sympathetic injuries, having been taught about them during a synch test, and the fact that in extreme circumstances they were lethal.
The plug came into view, followed by Unit 01 wrapping a purple hand around it, and pulling it out without struggle. After setting it down in the most tender manner imaginable, and ejecting his own plug, he nearly tripped over himself as he pounded towards it.
What could possibly be the tomb of Rei Ayanami.
No it's not! She's alive, I can feel her!
The emergency hatch had steam billowing off it, with the eject lever mangled. Yet he grasped it with all his strength and pulled. This pathetic piece of metal would not stop him.
The super heated metal burned, enough to sear the flesh of an unprotected hand, but fortunately his rubbery plugsuit managed to handle most of the heat. So focused on his task, Shinji didn't notice his tears of frustration and desperation splashing on the plug's side, then sizzling and evaporating into the humid air of a Japanese summer night.
He knew they could make another one, and probably would. But he didn't care about all the sciencebabble saying a clone was exactly the same as the person it came from. A life was a life. And it could not be replaced or replicated.
Spirits...you've taken so much from me. Mother, my home, my life! You've taken everything. But just this once...just this fucking once let something go right! Let her be alright, and you can have the rest of my life as well!
The hatch came off, followed by a wave of LCL, which he struggled through to get inside. He had to see, had to know.
And it seemed that just this once, the Spirits had listened to his anguished prayers.
A pair of dazed but very much alive red eyes gazed back at his cerulean ones. The blue headed albino looked a little worse for wear, but other than that she was fine. No sympathetic injuries to take note of. Still the same quiet and reserved girl Shinji had met beneath the gaze Unit 01 and his father all those weeks ago.
"Ikari...you were successful." She said quietly.
"Yes...yes I was..." All the stress of the past few hours, all the turmoil he'd felt since returning to his home city, suddenly, if only for a little while, lifted from his shoulders, leading to a surge of emotion. Tears of relief flowed with reckless abandon as he bowed his head, his right arm supporting himself.
"You are crying, why?"
He raised his gaze to meet hers again, his mouth curving into a gentle smile.
You probably wouldn't understand. Hell, I don't understand myself.
"Promise me something, Ayanami-san."
"What is it?"
"Don't say goodbye like that again. It's just too sad." His words and tears further added to the albino's confusion.
How does one define caring for another? I believe that I feel it now...and it feels...pleasant.
"I...I do not know what to do in this situation." Her gaze did not leave him, as she waited for a command.
He sniffled a little more, before somehow exhaling the tears away.
"Why don't you try smiling?"
Rei pondered those words for a few moments, then did as she was told. To her surprise, as far as she could feel it, it didn't feel strained or forced whatsoever.
He couldn't blink for a while.
For Shinji Ikari felt he'd gazed upon the most beautiful thing in all creation, as if the Spirits themselves had crafted this art work with their own divine hands. Her smile was like mother's, full of warmth and understanding. And yet...there was more to it. There was so much innocence and sweetness, coupled with a hint at an impossibly deep reserve of compassion.
This was not the ghost of Yui Ikari's smile.
This was the smile of Rei Ayanami.
And it was beautiful.
"Come on, let's get you home." He stretched out a hand, which the bluehead gently took. Carefully, Shinji draped his sister's arm over his shoulder, and helped her out of the plug.
Having quickly used Unit 01's radio to notify the NERV staff that "Pilot Ayanami" was alive and he was bringing her to them, having heard a surprising amount of whooping on the other end, the two proceeded with their trek.
The stars continued to twinkle in the night sky, Shinji looking up at them. Once again, their light made Rei's skin glow.
Beautiful.
An ethereal beauty, but beauty nonetheless.
The bluehead took a quick glance upwards as well, admiring them in her own way, before her gaze once again fell upon her progenitor's child.
Your light is as bright as those stars, Ikari. I shall try to protect it.
And thus the two children, the Eva pilots whom had just saved the world, limped back to their lines. A now unbreakable bond having already been forged beneath the gaze of heaven.
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02:35pm, Great British Empire, Imperial home islands, Leopard, New Windsor Palace.
The Seraph continued to smoke in its place of rest, as the Imperial government looked on.
It had seemed like everything was over but a few minutes before, when Unit 00 had fallen. But Unit 01, and it's undoubtedly brave pilot, had managed to win the day.
NERV had saved the world for the third time.
If they keep this up, the Seraphim will all be dead before we get the chance to have a crack at them. Grand High Marshal Terrence Cromford mused with some humour, before his attention was caught by the sound of clapping.
The Emperor, slowly and methodically continued to bring his gloved hands together with a look of approval.
Swiftly the other three hundred people in the room joined him for fifteen seconds, until Charles desisted. His government being the good servants they were, followed suit.
"Well, that was quite a good game if I say so myself. Most excellent marksmanship." He contentedly sighed, rising from his throne, his wife following suit. Taking her hand in his own, the Emperor walked through the crowd which parted before him, stopping for just a few moments next to the Grand High Marshal.
"Cromford. Send a message of congratulations to Pilots Ikari and Ayanami...sign it with my name."
"Sire." Terrence bowed his head.
"Excellent, then that will be all for now. Good day everyone."
"Hail Vance! Hail Britain!" Three hundred people called out in unison.
"Yes yes, hail me." Charles said quietly enough for only himself and his wife to hear, eliciting quiet laughter from Abigail.
Terrence meanwhile had returned his gaze to the screen, fully taking in the thing which had just been slain by the Knights of NERV and their valiant steeds.
Just what the hell are we fighting? He ruminated, taking a sip from his own glass of wine.
Alcohol before tea time? Today is going to be interesting...
"Marshal Cromford." A guardsman walked up to him, slamming a fist to his chest in salute.
"What is it?"
"The GAAFT council is in session. Your presence is required." The bearskinned soldier waited uncomfortably for a few moments, whilst Terrence sighed.
And now the worst part of my job...God things used to be easier...
"Very well. I shall be there presently." He nodded reluctantly, taking one last glance at his Lord's disappearing back with the great doors closing behind him, the Emperor likely on his way back to his personal quarters.
Oh to be young again.
With that, after gently placing his now empty glass back on a silver platter brought to him by a footman, Terrence Cromford began his far too short a walk to the palace comms room.
