Sovereignty of Evangelium: Arrival (Evangelion AU)

[Lord Sovereign]

"Of the sixty million Japanese deaths directly and indirectly incurred by the Antarctic Eruption, sixty-six percent of those numbers would be accounted for in a matter of days." Opening lines of "Surviving Armageddon" episode eight's segment on Japan.

I​

With an "oomph", he daydreamed into uniformed malice. As their narrowed eyes burned like coals, Shinji Ikari knew he was in bottomless trouble. Kenpeitai did not understand forgiveness.

He'd left the corner shop after a successful late grocery run not a few moments before. His backpack weighed heavily on his shoulders, filled with goodies for his shelves. Head down and drenched in rain, a question dogged him as it had been doing all day.

What does he want? After all this time?

Now, his heart hammered like thunder against a tightened chest. Two khaki uniformed secret policemen stood in front of him, one greying the other still youthful. Each had a sword and pistol strapped to their black leather belts.

The contents of the younger's coffee cup, steam still curling off, now covered his tunic like a bloodstain. Initially bewildered, his lip slowly lifted into a snarl.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" He barked.

Shinji raised his trembling hands. "S-sir, I'm so sorry-" A savage right hook cracked into the teenager's jaw.

"Sorry!? I'll make you sorry, you little shit!"

The world spun. A solid mass slammed Shinji to the ground, backpack crushed beneath him. His head smacked against the pavement, trapped between it and a barrage of punches. Every blow shattered his thoughts as it did bone. He tasted blood.

"Ichiro. Enough." A gruffer voice, the one of the elder, commanded.

The Kenpei's assault trailed off, with a few strikes more for good measure. The teenager allowed his eyes to crack open after what seemed an eternity, head heavy and dizzy. He tiredly looked up at the two men who towered over him. Throngs of people on the pavement passed by as if the secret police and their victim weren't there. Their shoes splashed in reddened puddles.

Wiping blood not his own off his chin, Shinji's assailant caught his breath through clenched teeth as the elder Kenpei walked over. Insignia marked the greying man as a 2nd lieutenant. Upon a closer look, Shinji realised the two men looked alike.

They look as unfriendly as each other. But the eyes are the same. Brown…related, perhaps?

"Congratulations." The lieutenant said to the younger, dryly. "You've caught a public menace."

The other Kenpei sniffed. "Should show proper respect, sir."

"Did I give you permission to speak, sergeant Kaza?"

"No, lieutenant Maeda." He stiffened.

The elder Kenpei pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. The three, the officers and the boy, remained motionless to the sound of a thousand footfalls and raindrops. Pensive, Maeda tiredly looked down on Shinji.

"Watch where you're going in future, boy." He said.

Shinji nodded. Blood trickled from his mouth and nose. Everything throbbed.

The lieutenant put a black booted foot forward. "Did you not hear me?"

"Y-yes sir!" Shinji scrambled back.

The Kenpei hmphed in satisfaction. "Come on, sergeant." He beckoned to his subordinate. "We're done here."

White gloved hands clasped behind his back, the embodiment of the Japanese Police State continued his patrol. The sergeant gave one final glower at the teenager before, like an obedient dog, he followed his master.

Shinji lay there for a while, to let his head feel less fuzzy and for the Kenpeitai to disappear into the crowd. Refreshing rain droplets splashed on his face.

I'm an idiot.

He groggily sat up as pain stabbed through his head, cursing his carelessness. The Kenpeitai were brutal. Anyone with a brain looked out for them. Only a fool wrapped up in their own little world would dare cross their path, intentionally or otherwise.

He'd been lucky, though.

Kenpeitai did not understand forgiveness, and Shinji had seen how far that lack of understanding went. Unlike those put up against a wall and shot, luck had smiled on him today.

Shinji almost laughed at the idea of fortune favouring him. Slowly he stood up, disorientated muscle screaming at him. Gingerly, he rubbed his pointed nose and thankfully felt it remain firm.

Oh well. Can't look too much worse.

Even without the bruises, dribble and blood, Shinji didn't think of himself as handsome. His face was gaunt and sharp, mousey chocolate brown hair almost reaching down to his cerulean blue eyes. Tall but unhealthily slim, one would think he'd caught Antarctic Flu as a child.

He didn't consider himself very clever either. How else could one run afoul of Marshal Motichka's hounds?

Off in my own little world. Shinji grit his teeth. That stupid letter.

He rubbed the back of his head, able to think clearly now. With some dismay, he remembered his backpack crushed by the Kenpei's fury. Shinji unslung and unzipped it. He groaned.

Eggs, milk, tea, bread, all ruined.

Shinji fought the urge to kick himself. His daydreaming had wasted time, money, and ruined his backpack. He sighed a sigh too weary for his age.

Looking over his shoulder at the still open shops, he thought for a moment. Surely it wouldn't hurt to dash back and get what was needed for a near empty fridge? He shook his head and muttered "no." Soaked to the skin, bruised, bloody, his grocery run in tatters, he didn't have it in him.

No Tamagoyaki tonight.

Soggy rucksack held by the strap, the teenager walked down the street. He uselessly tried to focus on what waited for him at home, a shower, hot tea, music and a good book, but tonight's humiliation, and memories conjured by the envelope that currently sat unwanted on his table, hung over his head like storm clouds. A disappearing back and a child's wails foggily floated up from the back of his mind. Shinji scowled. His fist curled into a ball.

You can wait. I see you enough in my dreams.

Shinji observed his surroundings as a distraction. Ahead and behind him was a street of downtown Kure, one of the most populous cities in Japan. Once, telephone wires crisscrossed above. Now, with wireless technology perfected, those had long been cleared away. The occasional holo-ad, usually of a fizzy drink, bathed him in luminescent blue light. Great Hinomaru flags were draped from every building. To not fly the flag, to fail to show patriotism in general, was considered suspect by the authorities.

Far above, the navigation lights of Imperial Aviation Corps and commercial aircraft glinted on a canvas of black. Angular Kaze fighter craft screamed through the heavens on patrol routes. At the heart of the swarm, hovering at ten thousand feet, was a Susanno class Flight Capable Vessel. Downward katana shaped, the flying battleship shielded a three-hundred-metre-long stretch of land from the rain.

Held aloft by layers of Hawking-Fields, produced by powerful Manmitsu reactors, they possessed enough firepower to level a city. FCV's were the idea of the 21st century made manifest. War had been its song so far, driven forth by these strange energy fields that gave unlimited power, and many believed they were in but an interlude of the orchestra.

An uncomfortable blanket of thick and warm air clung to him. Claustrophobic and everlasting, the global Summer caused by the catastrophic Antarctic Eruption denied comfort in the great outdoors. There was scarcely a soul out of the unending crowd bustling past him without beads of sweat to wipe from their brows. Even the darkness of night provided no relief.

No spring, no autumn, no winter. What must snowball fights have been like?

***​

After a miserable five-minute walk, Shinji was home. Grey and cuboid, the apartment complex had been frantically thrown up in the years after the Eruption, when millions didn't have food in their bellies, let alone roofs over their heads.

Mentally exhausted, he slid the card through the door lock and stepped inside. The trek to his apartment was mercifully short, only one floor up. There were elevators, but no one trusted them. They sat dilapidated and unused.

Cramped and spartan, the interior was joyless. Dimly lit and damp in the walls, it smelt of alcohol and vomit. The complex, dismal and falling apart, emulated the time it came from well. Still, it was a home.

Could be worse. I remember when you found needles all over the place. Sure as hell put a spring in some people's step! Shinji smiled a little.

Flat 27, his home, was tucked away in the corner of the first floor. A window allowed some light to trickle through onto the door, but it was a lonely place. Unlike almost everyone else, Shinji had one neighbouring apartment, whilst the rest usually had two. The one next to him stood empty, as it had done for as long as he could remember. It suited him, as he only had to deal with loud music from upstairs.

He passed a few other residents whose names he didn't know in the corridor. Shinji gave a quick "good evening" and bow of the head but pushed on regardless.

We've all got better things to do than talk.

Finally, tired, thirsty, and soaked to the skin, Shinji let his apartment's door shut behind him. He emptied his bag's ruined contents into his bin and dropped it next to the washing machine before he made his way to the shower.

Like the rest of the street, his apartment was compact if not cramped. A small corridor led straight into his living room and kitchen. Merged into one unit, it was smaller than some bedrooms. Bedroom and bathroom faced one another in the corridor. Having only one window in the lounge that never faced the sun, lightbulbs illuminated the stained white walls and sickly cream carpet. There was no television, only a radio. In the corner, a polished cello proudly stood.

Hot steamy water cascaded down upon him, washing away the dampness. Every muscle untensed, every bruise felt gentler. Shinji rolled his head back and allowed the shower's water to drench his face. The few remaining trickles of blood were swept away.

It would be fifteen minutes before he reluctantly turned off the hot water. Getting out of the shower, he rubbed himself down in the mirror with a blue towel. Dried, Shinji paused to stare at the face which looked back at him.

Though lanky and gaunt, his eyes betrayed a youth of fifteen years with an old, circular scar in his right leg. Adulthood encroached, nonetheless. He kept growing and only two years, a month, and one day stood between him and eighteen.

I don't feel ready to be sixteen, let alone…that…

Was that really him in the mirror? Had the discarded, podgy little boy from the other side of the country grown into this, a sickly-looking teenager who grew his fringe to hide his eyes and forever trudged through life with bitterness? This wouldn't be good enough for the Imperial Japanese Navy, let alone his mother.

Will there ever be a day where I don't let you down?

Minutes later, he slid into his pyjamas and returned to the lounge. In an area like this, homes were rarely this tidy. The carpet was immaculate, kitchen and bathroom spotless, bed sheets crisply ironed, and shelves thoroughly dusted. A Hinomaru flag even hung on his wall. It wasn't much, but it was home and his job to keep in order.

His small bookshelf and tea awaited him. As he walked into the kitchen, thinking of brew and books, he couldn't help but glance at the unopened envelope on the table. He and the letter had something in common; they were both unwanted.

Shinji growled and carried on to the kettle.

Soon enough the sensual aroma of green tea, or "Sencha" as his people called it, filled the apartment. Still too hot to sip, let alone drink, Shinji filled his nostrils with its grassy scent.

To think, those weirdoes in Britain put milk in theirs! Baka gaijin. Dark thoughts of the distant Tasman Sea, that great flashpoint, were conjured. I hope the Navy puts their fleet at the bottom of the sea. What are they even doing on this side of the world?

He dismissed those thoughts, and curled up on the sofa, letting himself sink into it. The fabric was cool, but it would soon warm up from his body heat. Shinji sipped his tea, shifting a little. His fingers traced over the fabric. He shifted again. Usually soft, his sofa felt coarse and hard now, the urge to fidget insatiable.

Resting on the table, the letter's sheer mundanity taunted him and chased away any thought of peace for the night. Since the morning it had grasped his attention.

To all, the letter would seem ordinary at first glance. Shinji had thought that when he'd first picked it up, believing it to be some other tax office unaware his teacher was two years dead. He flipped it over and his blood ran cold. A symbol was stamped on the back, a slanted half maple leaf. Beneath was a foreign word that everyone knew, even in the English alphabet.

Nerv.

The letter had been promptly slammed on the table and not touched since.

Father…Shinji's hand squeezed fiercely tight. Beat by quickening beat, his heart hammered as invisible fingers tugged at his stomach. Nerv was among the most influential and secretive organizations on the planet, a PMC that held a tremendous amount of clout in the United Nations to the chagrin of everyone else. At the top of this great pyramid was a man with whom he looked much alike. That man, the CEO of Nerv, was Gendo Ikari.

The letter had to be from him. Over the years, once or twice, a handwritten note had come his way that detailed changes in schedule for their visit to his mother's grave mere days before it was meant to happen. To Gendo's credit, he wrote them himself instead of leaving them to a secretary.

Almost spectrally, the teenager could picture those cold blue eyes, gazing down at him from behind a pair of glasses. There was never a smile.

Shinji slammed his hand down and snarled. Abruptly standing up, the teenager stormed over to a cupboard, threw it open, and wrenched out his vacuum cleaner. Switched on to full blast, he happily let its roar drown out his thoughts, to try and chase away the wails of an abandoned child. All too soon, alas, the futility of his task became apparent.

He entered his small kitchen and thrashed around for any dirty cutlery or crumbs. There was none, they'd been attended to hours ago. He threw his bag into the wash, but that didn't take five minutes. Desperately, he shot a look at his bookshelf, half tempted to dive into a faraway place. Not even the fields of the Shire or Pellanor would provide escape from the letter, though.

Reluctantly, Shinji took a deep breath and walked over to the coffee table. His hand clenched again. He forced it to unflex and reached out for the letter. If neither housework nor books could distract him, music, let alone sleep, would be just as useless.

The paper was light as a feather, an irony for something that carried such weight. He sat back down on the sofa, sipped his tea, and slit it open.

Cerulean eyes darted over the words. Shinji paused and reread as his eyebrows knitted together. The frown soon contorted into a scowl. Astonished, he read aloud. "Come immediately. Accommodation has been arranged."

A tsunami of fury coursed through his veins. Shinji ground his teeth together, deaf to the sound of paper crumpling in his hand.

After all this time, this is it? No "hello, Shinji, how are you?" just fucking "Come?" Bastard!

He tossed the letter aside and hissed. After all these years, this was the best his father could do? Shinji seethed, nails digging into the palm of his hand as he fought for control with his feelings. He wanted to tear the letter up and flush it down the toilet or use a match to set it alight.

How dare he. How fucking dare he.

That would never do, of course. Shinji took a few deep breaths, remembering how he had been taught to control his anger.

Nothing wrong with getting angry, just squeeze it all out. I haven't forgotten, mother. He untensed and smiled sadly.

Thoughts collected, Shinji rummaged about in the envelope to check if he'd missed anything and found three more items: an ID card, a train ticket, and a photo.

The card caught his attention first, namely because of his face being on it. Next to the copy of his passport photo, his details and Levav Base: Third Grade Security Clearance were marked in red ink. Atop them all was stamped the half leaf symbol.

"Security clearance…Levav Base?" Shinji squinted, unsure if his eyes were deceiving him. Any Nerv Base was meant to a hub of top-secret technology, but Levav was more. It was Nerv's beating heart, right beneath Japan's modern capital: Nakisawame.

And he's invited me there? Stupefied, Shinji chuckled. Must really want to impress me. It's a bit late for that, though.

Setting the card aside, he turned to the ticket. It was for an economy class seat on a train to Nakisawame, departing Kure station at 1:00pm the next day.

Shinji explosively sighed. Utterly unexpected and short notice, it was clear nothing had changed between him and his father.

It still enticed him. A paid for trip to the capital was not something lightly passed up, especially if it gave access to Levav Base itself. Even he, who took little to no interest in Nerv's work, couldn't help but find the prospect fascinating. Regardless of his feelings towards his father, this could be used to his benefit.

Shinji shook his head, admiring his cynicism. He picked up the photo. His eyes bulged into saucers.

Clad in a tightly fitting yellow shirt and blue hotpants, was divinity for his hormonal mind. Voluptuous, she couldn't have been older than thirty. A pair of doughy brown eyes, one winking the other seductive, looked out at him. Chin pointed and face angular, silky black hair spilled over her shoulders.

Drawn in marker pen, an arrow pointed directly to her exposed and impressive chest. Everything about the photo was designed to attract, arouse, or embarrass, and it worked. Shinji's face turned beetroot red as he wrestled with the growing bulge in his pyjama bottoms.

On the right-hand corner, the letters "P.T.O" were inscribed by the same pen that drew the arrow. Shinji dutifully turned the photo over.

Her handwriting couldn't be more different to his father, soft and sloppy compared to crisp and machine like. "Hey there, Shinji-kun. My name's Misato Katsuragi. I work for your father. I'll be your chauffeur for the day when you arrive. See you at Sekigahara Central's entrance, eighteen hundred hours sharp. Can't wait to meet you! X." Beneath was a phone number, "If you get lost" written next to it.

Unfamiliarity twisted around intrigue as Shinji gawped. He set the photo down and whistled with the silliest of smiles. Not once in his life had anyone spoken to him like that, let alone a beautiful woman.

Alright, he's really trying to get me over there. Maybe…he just wants to talk to me.

He scratched the back of his head and tutted. "If he thinks this changes anything…"

What else would his father want him in Nakisawame for but reconciliation? For this to come out of the blue after years of silence could mean nothing else. A part of his heart sang with joy at the prospect whilst the rest seethed.

Thirteen years too fucking late for that kind of trash.

To be chauffeured around the capital and mythical Levav Base by a beautiful woman for no expense, was not an offer easily turned down, however. Besides, Gendo had looked like he'd pulled out all the stops.

Maybe…maybe…he really just wants to make things right?

Shinji's lips pressed together. A memory surfaced, one of sitting on broad shoulders with strong hands clasped on his small shins. A toddler's phantom laugh gently echoed, until it hideously morphed into a wail, as he was left on that train platform again.

He had to fight back anger that had simmered for over a decade, as his mouth twisted and his nostrils flared.

I know I should try and hear him out. Mother would want me to. He is my father after all…but I can't let go of what happened.

He scanned over the letter one more time.

Five years and "Come" is the only thing he can manage? That son of a bitch.

Shinji unceremoniously dumped it on the table.

"I'll sleep on it."

 

[Lord Sovereign]

"To not fly the rising sun banner is considered suspect. To fly old blue sky, even in the occupied provinces, is a death sentence." Diary entry of a Chinese journalist in Nagoya.

II
​

Shinji tossed and turned beneath the sheets as he tried to sleep, some part of him not wanting to close his eyes. What lay beyond was only nightmares or some weird dream. Yet, nature overtook him, and he drifted off.

Hours later, he woke up with a jolt, wide eyed and sheets soaked in sweat. He ran a hand through his hair and shuddered.

"Come on, Shinji. It was just a dream. The war's been over for eight years." He muttered.

This one had been vivid. The blood and the screams as thousands of Chinese boots tramped, still rang in his ears. At the dream's climax came that terrible thunder of artillery, the sort that had made him wail as a little boy.

That one almost felt real… A muffled bang caused his heart to leap into his throat. He snapped his head up, alert, anticipating walls to collapse beneath the weight of massed communist field guns. Shinji strained his ears, rewarded with muffled bangs and shouts that came from outside.

Riots. Must be.

Shinji looked at his bedside clock and sighed. It was 4:00am, too early even for his liking. But he was awake, so in resignation he threw the sheets off and swept his legs out of bed.

After a quick shower, he dressed and made his way into the kitchen. Breakfast was porridge, followed by a few cups of sencha to wake him up properly. Were it quieter outside, Shinji would have sat down and read one of his books. The riot, however, niggled at his ear too much.

I need somewhere quiet, especially to think. Out of the corner of his eye, the letter still sat on the table, unwilling to relinquish its domination of his thoughts until answered. Shinji had no answer yet. I need my hill.

Things gathered in his now dried bag, Shinji slung it over his shoulder and left his apartment. Door locked behind him, he walked down the dimly lit corridor. Through the windows he could see an orange haze eating away at the night. Rain filled clouds still covered the heavens.

Ahead, a small crowd had gathered to look outside. Stopping momentarily by them, Shinji saw the haze grow with each distant flash of petrol bomb. He shook his head and carried on, although his ear twitched at murmurs.

"What was it this time?" One of them, a young man who worked in the local convenience store, said.

"Kenpei shot some kid." Said an older man, an ex-soldier who lived on the ground floor.

"Shit. Is the little shit alright?"

"Yeah. Only got shot in the leg. Apparently he and his friends thought it would be funny to throw bricks at a Kenpei."

Another distant bang echoed. The volume of calls and shouts seemed to be getting louder.

The younger man frowned. "You think the military will get involved?"

"We should hope not." The older man chuckled. "Bit below our pay grade. No, a few Riot Butai will handle this."

Shinji could distinctly make out faint cries of "fascist, fascist!" now. It wasn't the first time he'd heard that chorus, and he doubted it would be the last.

Throwing fireworks at Kenpeitai won't make Marshal Motichka go away. So fucking useless…

"Where are you going?" The younger man said, noticing Shinji.

"Out for a walk. Need some fresh air." Shinji offered.

"Are you deaf? It's not safe out there."

"I can manage." Shinji called back.

It's easy when you've seen worse.

As he reached the interior staircase, he faintly heard the ex-soldier say, "Always a strange one, him. You know he never talks to anyone?"

***​

Although the din was clearly noticeable, Shinji's street stayed relatively quiet. Most sensible people were still in bed or watching the "fireworks" from the safety of their homes. Yet, things were still safer now than they'd ever been in his lifetime. Once, these were some of the favourite haunts of the Yakuza crime lords, who'd ruled a silent empire even before the Eruption. But since the day old Chakku Jinbo had let his delusions of grandeur get the better of him, since he challenged the military directly, they'd become all but extinct.

Just have the occasional youth gangs to deal with these days. Even drugs seem under control. Say one thing for Marshal Motichka, but she keeps order in her own way. Shinji tried not to muse on how many had to be beaten and shot before the "Time of Crime" was ended.

He'd managed to make it halfway to "his hill" when it went wrong. Pacing down an intersection he thought was far enough away from the riot, he suddenly heard the shouts and cries of hundreds of people hurtle his way. To his right, he saw them and immediately backed up.

Rioters and various other malcontents, some with red masks and hats on to denote their communist nature, an echo of the long-lost Civil War, stampeded down the street. Faint outlines of brown uniformed Kenpeitai were in hot pursuit, some in black riot gear. Petrol bombs and rubber bullets were exchanged in equal measure.

Shinji threw himself out of the main throng's way but still got caught in its snare. He fought against those pushing past him, knowing all he'd have to do was detour down an alleyway that would doubtlessly soon materialise…

"You!" Shinji froze. He knew that voice.

In his still stained tunic, sergeant Kaza glowered at him. "What are you doing here!?"

Run.

Shinji bolted, his brain already planning out an escape route. He knew downtown Kure, its nooks and crannies sprawled everywhere thanks to reconstruction. Screams of "stop, stay where you are!" followed him. Jack boots splashed in puddles he had just pelted past.

Got to block it out, got to focus. It didn't matter if his reasons for being there were innocent. After last night, his appearance at a public disturbance warranted suspicion in their eyes.

The Kenpeitai beat you within an inch of your life for less.

He pelted down alleyway after alleyway, until he could see the narrow path open out onto the sea front. Out there, he could easily be lost in the crowds of workers finishing night shift.

Instead, tired Kenpei footfalls at sufficient distance, he veered down another, narrower street and hid behind a large shop sign. A few seconds later, he heard his pursuers' boots hammer against pavement as they darted out into the gathering crowds.

Shinji couldn't help but smirk. They would thrash around aimlessly for a while now, until they were forced to return to their unit. Given the day's events so far, the manpower likely wouldn't be spared for an insolent teenager.

Shinji strained to hear footsteps over the crash of waves and cry of seagulls, just in case his pursuers doubled back. He relocated behind a skip just in case. After ten minutes he heard nothing.

"Chinese were more persistent than that." He muttered.

Satisfied, Shinji walked out onto the seafront. A large road ran over a concrete slab that eventually morphed into Kure's vast docks. This was the hub of the city. As a port and one of the major bases of the Japanese Combined Fleet, that vast armada of warships dedicated to the home island's protection, this was where dock workers hurried back and forth whilst cargo was offloaded, or sailors disembarked.

Dawn's golden light gently pushed through a blanket of sea mist. Spirits raised, Shinji wondered what ships were out at sea, until the tramping of boots jolted him back to reality.

One hundred footfalls at least hammered out as equipment chinked. A body of men marched around the corner, their uniforms navy blue beneath grey armour. Arisaka rail rifles were firmly clasped, bayonets glinting. It was an infantry company of the Imperial Japanese Army, one of the finest fighting forces in the world.

Cautious yet curious faces peaked out from behind closed curtains, whilst others darted indoors. Burly dockworkers all but skipped onto the pavement to keep out of their way. Only a few, Shinji among them, remained to watch the hundred and fifty strong unit march past. At their rear rumbled a Type-07 APC, .50 calibre already manned by a stern looking soldier.

Riot's gotten out of hand. Some baka is going to get shot.

Whilst the Kenpeitai were routinely mocked and clashed with, as they may well have deserved, the mere sight of Imperial Army bayonets sent even the strongest willed radical scurrying home.

"Pointless." Shinji muttered to no one. He readjusted his bag and walked on.

***​

Kure shouldn't have been beautiful, yet it was. Metropolitan grey sprawled out like a great splash of paint, surrounded by endless jagged green hills. A knife of land jutted out into a carpet of blue. The city, built on either side of it, snaked together from behind. The sea rolled, rippled and crashed against barriers that could be risen higher in storm season. City, ocean and untamed mountain were the very core of Japan, and Kure epitomised it.

A haze of early morning mist clouded the port city as it roused from slumber. Soon, shops would open, children would walk to school and the metro would be packed to overflow, accompanied by the constant roar of military activity. With a crescendo of ship horns and the cries of a thousand gulls, Kure enjoyed as little sleep as any great Japanese city, let alone the nerve centre of imperial maritime commerce.

The fresh, salty sea air filled his lungs and nostrils. Shinji relished it and breathed in deeply. From here, ancient Ondonoseto Park provided a view few could contend. The great port city stretched out before him in its entirety, along with the grey waves that beat against the shore. Even in the fog, he could see merchantmen and warship alike steam through. Never was there a time when a ship didn't make port in Kure.

Shinji strained his eyes to make out the distant vessels. One hazed outline provoked a fond, familiar smile. He pulled out a notepad and pen from his backpack, then wrote a name, time and date. "Olgrov. 6:00am, 6th May 2017."

Me and my silly hobby. Looking up again, he admired the distant, rusty cargo freighter called "Olgrov."

Beyond sight, that gold, white and black horizontal tricolour limply yet ironically hung from the Slavyansk class freighter's flagpole; a Soviet built ship flew the Tsar's colours.

Surprised they haven't scuttled her yet. Last I heard, the Tsar still wants to annihilate whatever's left of the USSR.

Shinji clenched his jaw. As much as he loved his hobby, he'd more important matters to attend.

Reluctantly, he pulled the letter out of his bag. Shinji slowly read through it again as memory filled in the blanks left by disturbed sleep.

His nose wrinkled. Was a "hello" really all that difficult?

The time limit stood out as clear as the eternal summer sky; the train left at 1:00pm. Shinji needed time to think and a calm place to do it in, which was why he'd come here.

I've got about six hours, that should be enough. Trouble is, time always goes by quickly when you don't want it to.

He pulled out a flask from his bag and sipped its steamy contents. The sencha nourished him a little before he scanned the letter again with a frown.

Even with time, the words didn't seem any less blunt nor hurtful. Gendo clearly wanted him for something, else he wouldn't have written.

A distant horn cut through the fog like a knife through butter. A one-hundred-metre-long Matsushima class corvette pulled away from the docks, its funnel glowing with red Stephenson-particle energy.

Shinji let his imagination take him somewhere else. He stood on the deck of a ship like that, a limitless ocean around him. Uniformed and trained, he was a sailor, maybe even an officer of the Imperial Japanese Navy, serving his country with pride.

On one of those ships, I could make things right, Ryusaki-san. Sadness and fondness momentarily squeezed his heart. Now there's a debt I need to pay.

The ship's horn sounded out into the fog again. Shinji smiled. That distinct sound and a light slightly out of alignment was a dead giveaway.

HIJMS Kochi, 2nd Fleet. Compliment of ninety sailors, marines and officers. Must be going out on maneuverers.

"Damn it." He pouted. Out there, obscured from sight, were a few flotillas of warships, maybe even battleships. For Shinji, watching the vessels of the mighty Imperial Navy steam through these straights was a beloved past time. At least twice a week he would come up here and observe them with packed lunch and hot sencha for the afternoon.

To Shinji's surprise, the Kochi turned to port. The Second Fleet usually went out into the Sea of Japan for manoeuvres, rarely anywhere else. The Third fleet covered the south and Shikkoku from their base at Oita. The Kochi and the rest of her flotilla should be turning starboard, out to Tsushima basin and the Sea of Japan. To port, to the left, would take them further into Seto Inland sea, if not the Pacific itself.

Wonder what they're doing? Seems like the long way round…Ah, I'm overthinking it. They're part of the Combined Fleet, they've got a lot to patrol…

"Gah!" He punched the ground. He had to decide now: leave or stay? No more distractions.

"Why couldn't you have sent this last week?" Shinji hissed.

There was still time, though. Quietly, Shinji weighed up his options. On the one hand, a free trip to the capital, being chauffeured by a beautiful woman, and a chance of reconciliation. On the other, a long journey by train to a reunion that could go badly and would leave him stranded on the wrong side of Japan for a few days.

He didn't know how long he sat there, pondering. Gendo Ikari wanted to see him, and as a son who couldn't help but love his parent despite all, Shinji felt compelled to heed the summons. Yet deep down a part of himself spat bitterly of betrayal. Gently, like a daisy in spring, an idea as to why the letter had been so sudden blossomed. His brow wrinkled.

…he's not ill, is he?

"What do I care? Hope it's terminal." Shinji snorted, then winced. "Shit."

Regret and shame displaced the fury. Did he really hate his father that much to wish him death? His mother would not have approved.

Shinji sighed and took a last look at the letter. Resigned, he folded it away and took a gulp from his flask. The sencha's grassy taste failed to soothe him. He stood up and slinged his bag over his shoulder.

Even if he isn't on his deathbed, father wouldn't have written unless this was important.

He cast one last lingering look at Kure. Deep down, Shinji knew he wouldn't see it again for a while.

***​

Shinji trotted along in the narrow streets of downtown Kure, as his mind ran through what he would need to pack. It would be no more than a two-day trip, so he'd pack for three to be sure. That meant three days' worth of pants, socks and clean clothes, along with some money. Frugal by nature and education, money was no concern.

The streets started to fill as people sleepily stumbled to work. Weaving in and out, Shinji happily noted there weren't enough to form a solid mass. Their ranks thinned after the first few waves. With this unheard fortune, he found himself already at the shops which he'd ill-fatedly ventured to yesterday. Here was his other reason for being up so early: ingredients for a tasty breakfast.

Eggs, bread…and to hell with it, bacon.

The shelves were half empty when he stepped inside. Vans carrying fresh produce had only just arrived to fill them back up. Still, there was enough. Rare was the occasion when any shop ran out of eggs, after all.

At the till, he shifted uncomfortably beneath the dead, tired gaze of the cashier because the self-checkout had failed to start at this early hour. As the food was scanned slowly and painfully, he looked around for a temporary distraction. Like any shop these days, it had a television in the corner with the news on. Shinji vaguely took notice of it. A young, pasty faced woman reported live from Nakisawame, confusion in her raised tone as she tried to be heard over a din. Tanks rumbled past her, soldiers hitching a ride on them.

"Yes…yes, I can confirm, the 1st Heavy Air Squadron has been deployed to Nakisawame." The camera panned up to show four Susanoos as they crossed the blue heavens, flanked by dozens of fighters. The noise seemed to make the television shake. Even the cashier looked at the screen and frowned. "Imperial Army formations are taking up position at Defence Line 1. No word yet from either Parliament or the Military Council. Forces are concentrating at the coast. Reports are coming in of a massive naval deployment en-route here, possibly the 2nd and 3rd Fleet-"

The till pinged as it calculated the cost of his groceries. Shinji dropped his gaze and paid, eager to leave quickly. Outside, the usual mugginess began to intensify to its daily unbearableness. The earlier trickle of commuters steadily transformed into a flood as Shinji increased his pace. Thoughts of his father intermingled with what he'd just seen on the news.

That's a huge deployment. Haven't seen anything that big since the scuffle we had with the British over Tasmania a few years ago. But nothing from the Military Council, from the Marshal? Weird.

If there had been some international squabble, perhaps even some shots exchanged by border patrols, then Marshal Chiso Motichka would be the first to tell anyone about it. The idea she could turn down an opportunity to brag about Japan's martial supremacy was as preposterous as Shinji's teacher letting him have a cake for his birthday.

Eh. He shook his head. Whatever it is, it'll come to nothing. Japan cannot be conquered. A cruel smile twisted across his lips. More than a million dead Chinese dumped in the unmarked graves they deserved, and the Hinomaru flag flying over Shanghai, were testament to Japanese invincibility. Atop China's humiliation and punishment, the empire had been restored.

Chankoro scum.

A little part reflected sadly on what his mother would think of that. She surely would never have wanted him to hate like this. Alas, the war had seen to it he wouldn't feel any other way about Gaijin.

"It's raining, it's pouring, Marshal Motichka's snoring!" The sweet, high pitched voice caused Shinji's hairs to stand up. He froze and turned to see a little boy no older than seven jumping in a puddle. In blue student's uniform and with bag slung over shoulder, he was clearly on his way to school.

"She went to bed and bumped her head and couldn't get up in the morning!" The boy sang, oblivious to the world and other looks of horror. Shinji made no attempt to correct him and almost ran away, only looking behind to see if there were any brown tunics in sight.

I'm already in the Kenpeitai's bad books! If they caught me with a kid singing that…

One beating in the last twenty-four hours was quite enough.

War, the state breathing down everyone's neck, this was too sullen for today. After all, he'd some legitimate good news for once, in the form of his father's invitation. The mere thought caused him to smile oddly as he tried to suppress it.

I mustn't get ahead of myself. Still, either way he needs to see me.

The smile irresistibly broadened as he gave in. A spring entered his step.

He needs to see me.

When was the last time anyone "needed" him?

 

[Lord Sovereign]

"My life and loyalty to the Home Islands, their traditions and their Emperor. Death before dishonour." Japanese oath of allegiance. By law, a citizen must swear it.

III​

Shinji leaned his head against the hard-plastic window, bag obviously placed on the seat next to him, small suitcase slotted into the compartment above. Passengers were squashed together like tinned sardines around him. Everyone, from politicians to tourists, made the commute to the Capital.

The train looked as if it had seen better days, although it slid effortlessly along anti-grav rails. Litter sprinkled the floor like salt on a meal. The electric hum of the train's Manmitsu engine, coupled with inane gossip and the screeches of children, made him thankful that he'd jammed his earphones in. Shinji rubbed his brow.

So this is what it's like? He shifted uncomfortably, as if the walls were closing in. To think, people do this every day. He futilely turned up the volume of Mozart's majesty as one of the little ones behind him ear piercingly screamed about a lost toy.

Shinji sighed. He watched the world go by to try and take his mind off it. The golden sun bore down on the Kanto plains through a clear blue sky.

Beneath the watchful gaze of Mount Fuji, rolling hills were covered in thickets of forest with the occasional lake hidden among them. Emerald green fields stretched out intermittently, the occasional settlement even less so. Most were ancient villages and towns. The wooden, pointed and curved roofs marked them out. One or two were modern, cream concrete blocks and grey roads built upon refugee centres thrown up immediately after the Eruption and reused during the war.

I was born in a place like that. Weird to think mother and father lived there for a few months. He struggled to picture it. His mother was no slouch, but from what he remembered of the camps during the war it wouldn't be to her taste. As for his father, Shinji chuckled. Cold and aloof, the mere idea of Gendo Ikari having supplies be shoved into his hands and told what to do was hilarious. He'd always imagined his father as man who would look like a frightened owl when caught unawares.

Live there they did though. Their house, along with the entirety of Old Tokyo, was swallowed by the Antarctic Wave, what his people called the "Flood of Tears." When the dams were built and the water drained, none returned. No one wanted to live in the mass grave of eight million people, and that was what Old Tokyo remained to this day. It was a sobering thought, that even the hideous atrocities at Fukuyama were dwarfed by such a loss of life.

"Hello." Shinji frowned, thinking he'd heard something.

"Hello." He blinked and tore his gaze away from the window. A plump middle-aged woman in stewardess uniform stood there, pushing a trolley. Immediately, he paused his music and took out an earphone.

"Sorry." Shinji forced a smile.

"No trouble. Would you like anything?" She smiled back, far sweeter than he could ever manage.

Shinji looked over the various packets of sweets, crisps and cake on there, then shook his head. "I'm alright. Made myself a packed lunch and tea."

"There's chocolate bars waiting to go here…"

"I'm fine. Really." Out of sight, his foot fidgeted in annoyance.

Her brow wrinkled, as she seemed stuck halfway between moving on and staying. "You know I've been on this train since Kure too? You've been sitting by yourself all the way."

"Oh." He dropped his gaze. "I didn't have anyone to travel with. Anyway, we're close to my stop, no need to worry."

"If you're sure-"

"I'm sure. But thank you for checking on me."

It's nice to know someone cares.

Unconvinced, she nodded reluctantly and moved on. Shinji was tempted to put his earphones back in, but it would be useless. It was too noisy. In response, he unzipped his bag and retrieved a hefty tome with faded red cover.

He grinned childishly. Still as thick and decayed as the day he found it in 2008, in that pile of kindling he'd snatched it from, Shinji held it affectionately.

Can't believe those vandals were going to burn you for warmth.

Of all his small collection of books, each special in their own way, this one was precious beyond the rest. Others had grown up watching Gundam or Dragonball; his great fictional journey had been to Middle Earth, with Tolkein as his guide.

Shinji delicately turned the well-worn pages. He plucked his flask of sencha from its holder, and gently put the hot liquid to his lips. Warmth shivered through him. Never mind all these petulant brats, he had a good book and a nice drink.

I'm never having kids. He winced as a little girl screamed for no apparent reason.

Shinji looked out the window and tried to picture the Shire in the heart of rural Japan with little luck. Still, although it had lessened, his smile had not faded. Even though it was a symptom of unyielding thirty-degree Celsius temperatures, it was a beautiful day.

Sunlight glinted off something far above. He squinted and managed to split the flash into four snaps of white light. Shinji couldn't make out any shape, but he knew what they were, their formation a dead giveaway.

Aviation Corps. Probably part of that mobilization. Given their direction… He looked over his shoulder, picturing their current trajectory and where it led back to. They've come over from the east. Either they're patrolling, or they've called up wings from across the country. What is this about?

Eventually the glints swept out of sight. Vapor trails streaked behind them. Despite being so far up, the craft and pilots of the Imperial Japanese Aviation Corps took his breath away. In 1999 most warplanes couldn't make Mach 4; Kazes could make it past Mach 5. H-Fields, it seemed, were fantastic at reducing drag.

He admired them, these people who kept him and everyone else safe. Not many had his privilege of being able to put a human face to the Emperor's warriors. Within a refugee camp, they'd shared their rations with a frightened, lonely, and hungry child for more than a year.

Shinji leaned back into his seat and smiled. There he'd toddled around after them, as many supplies as he could manage in his small hands. Every little helped back then, which earned him more than a few ruffles of the hair, and even a sweet when one went spare.

The smile then faded as a sad frown grew. They had been the same sort as that grey eyed young man who carried him out of the rubble and bandaged his broken and bloody hand.

Corporal Ryusaki, I'll never forget what you did for me. Thank you.

His chest grew heavy. It was his lot in life that his best memories must be so intertwined with his worst.

"Hello!" Said a cheerful yet awkward voice that made Shinji jump. An eager, apologetic man in a suit stood there, no older than thirty. He held a briefcase and a newspaper.

"Do you mind? Everywhere else is full." He grimaced.

"Oh" Shinji looked down at his bag on the seat next to him. He winced. "Of course, here." With a heavy heart he put it between his feet.

"Thank you!" The man beamed as he plopped himself down. "It's crazy a few carriages back. Kenpeitai are onboard. Didn't ask, but I reckon they're looking for escapee rioters."

"Hm." Shinji, half listening, slipped his book back into his bag and jammed his earphones in.

They wouldn't be looking for me. Besides, only two of them really saw my face and don't have a name to put to it.

Shinji fought to not recoil as the commuter plopped himself on the seat. Quietly, the teenager slipped his book back into his bag and jammed his earphones in. He tried to lean away without catching the man's attention. It was fortunate they were both Japanese, as the likelihood of meaningless conversation was nigh non-existent. Still, he could not help but occasionally glance over out of curiosity.

Suit…briefcase…and The Nikkei. He's a banker, or someone who's something to do with finance. The newspaper's rustle caused Shinji to ramp up the volume on his MP3. It wouldn't be much longer now, he reassured himself. They'd be at Nakisawame in fifteen minutes.

A mobile phone rang. The man's ears turned red as he reached into his pocket, whilst Shinji masked a scowl. Pulling out his phone, the man flipped it open and sighed.

"Sorry, I've got to take this." He apologised.

"It's fine, go ahead." Shinji curled his toes out of sight, more interested in hearing the genius of Bach.

The man pushed a button and held it to his ear. "Mother? Yes, I'm on the train…"

…mother? Shinji's ears pricked up. Subtly, he turned down the volume.

"Yes, I've got my money. This has to have been the thousandth time I've done this! I moved out seven years ago…"

He could already picture it. Before the man went anywhere, his mother would always check he'd everything he needed. From memory, Yui Ikari's warm smile bore down on him, as her hands gently tightened the straps on his little backpack. Shinji's chest ached.

Try and think of the good things. It's what she'd want. He tried so hard to fill that absence, to no avail. Dampness cloistered at his eyes. I miss you.

"Alright, I love you too, bye!" Smiling, the banker blushed and put his phone away, then looked over at the teenager. "Sorry. My mother's fifty-seven and she still treats me like I'm ten."

Shinji chuckled, awkwardly yet genuinely. "Yeah, that's mothers for you…"

The train lurched to a halt, electric hum suddenly silenced. Shinji grabbed his seat and only lurched forward. The banker was not so fortunate. His nose cracked into the chair in front of him.

"What the…" He hissed, hand clamped on his nose as crimson trickled from his nostrils. Voices rose throughout the carriage, curses among them. Shinji removed his earphones and frowned, irritated but curious.

"Attention, this is the driver." A voice crackled across the announcer. "A state of emergency has been declared for this entire region and we've been ordered to vacate immediately. Our apologies for the inconvenience, full refunds will be offered at Osaka. Once again, we apologize."

The outcry rolled like a wave over the entire train. Shinji soon joined them with an explosive sigh. "Oh, come on!"

Five hours of train journey all for nothing. Now, it would be a miracle if he got back to Kure before six.

The banker ran a hand through his black hair. "State of Emergency?" He muttered. "It's the Chinese…it's got to be…"

Shinji's rolled his eyes, catching the man's attention.

"What?" The banker tilted his head.

"Don't be ridiculous. The Chinese would have landed at Kyushu, like they did last time. It's probably just an earthquake." Shinji let his head rest on the glass window, drained and desperately wanting to be somewhere else.

"Who else could it be? We've a treaty with the Tsar, the Principate's fleet hasn't recovered from that last war, the British are too far south, and Thailand, Vietnam, the Dutch, they wouldn't even dream..." The man shook his head. "It could only be the Chinese."

"They haven't recovered from Kii Channel." Shinji pointed out. "Between our fleet and that typhoon there's hardly anything left. There's no way they could sail all the way around here without anyone noticing, let alone defeat the Imperial Navy."

"What if it's paratroopers, landing ahead of the main invasion?"

"They wouldn't."

"How do you know!?"

The teenager's lips pressed together. "Because they'd be cut off in the heart of Honshu. Even the Chinese aren't that stupid."

"But…" The banker paused and squinted, examining the boy. "How do you know?"

"Because any war fought today isn't going to be too different from the last one. And I know that war very well."

Shinji said nothing more and put his earphones back in. The suited man realised the conversation was over and shifted away, a hint of pity in his eyes.

Phantom cracks, crumps and thuds began to roll through his mind. Shinji turned his music's volume up. Merely talking about the Third Sino-Japanese War, the great clash between the yet unborn Japanese Empire and the People's Republic of China, summoned memories he wanted to forget. Rifle barrels flashed before his eyes as invisible smoke and the stench of death poured down his throat and up his nose. He balled his fist.

Leave me alone…please…

So wrapped up in his own thoughts, Shinji failed to notice the banker be unceremoniously hauled out of his seat. He scarcely had time to register the familiar brown uniformed man, tunic still stained, glowering at him before an iron grip clamped on his shoulder.

"Going somewhere?" Sergeant Kaza snarled. He slammed a fist into Shinji's face. Stars danced across his eyes as he was dragged off his seat, legs refusing to work.

"I-I-I'm going to see my father-" He was smacked across the face again.

"Yes, yes, and I'm the King of France. Now shut up and stand up." Kaza growled, his greying superior, with him as ever. Lieutenant Maeda made no attempt to interject this time, but there was a flash of pity in his eyes.

"E-excuse me, sir-" The stewardess, concerned, had come over. The rest of the carriage had gone deathly silent.

"Stay out of this, miss." The lieutenant said.

"What's he done wrong?" She asked.

"Assaulted a Kenpei in broad daylight, was found at the scene of a riot where Kenpei were injured, fled said scene, and is now, oddly enough, aboard a train to another part of the country." Kaza said icily.

Oh shit. Shinji's stomach dropped into his shoes.

The stewardess helplessly looked between him and the Kenpeitai.

"I-It's alright." Shinji forced out.

No use you getting in trouble on my account.

"There, you heard him. Shove off." Kaza smiled, then abruptly frog-marched Shinji in the opposite direction. Maeda kept a moderate distance behind, wary of an attempt to bolt.

Where would he go though? This wasn't the backstreets of Kure.

What kind of fucking luck do I have!? Of all the Kenpeitai that could have been on the train, it's the pair I pissed off.

"Ugh, put some effort into it you little shit." Kaza pushed harder. Shinji's legs knocked together so much he struggled to put one foot in front of the other. He knew in his heart what would come next. If he was lucky, it was only the beating of a lifetime.

Given that the usual Kenpeitai pair on this train was the exact same one he crossed yesterday, he doubted it.

The other commuters fearfully looked on as he was trooped off. Some forced their children to look away and keep silent.

It felt like the floor shook with each step. Shinji cursed his cowardice. He could run perfectly well in worse conditions. Suddenly, Shinji realised the Kenpei were struggling too. Maeda leaned on a chair to keep his balance.

Kaza had only hissed "what the-" before the brakes of the train were slammed on, and terrified silence turned into screams. Shinji's eyes widened. People scrambled away from the other side of the train, away from a monumental, vertical trunk of serrated bone.

The mighty shin slammed into the carriage. Plastic and steel crumpled from merely a brush. The train was snatched off the rails, its passengers thrown around as if they were in a tumble dryer. Lights flickered and failed.

In mid-air, Shinji shut his eyes, hunched over and gripped his ears. He slammed into a table, then was almost crushed by something warm and heavy. It lay atop him, a shield from debris.

Mercifully, the rolling come to a stop. Shinji was bruised but not cut. Gently, he cracked open his eyes. A shaft of light poured in through the train's former side and current ceiling to illuminate a scene of mangled luggage and bodies.

His stomach twisted. On top of him, lifeless mouth open in a permanent drool, was the banker. He must have been flung from the other side of the carriage. Next to Shinji's face lay the culprit of his demise, a heavy suitcase. Thrown free, it had snapped the poor man's neck instead of crushing Shinji's head.

Shinji whimpered and instinctively pushed the still warm corpse off him. The man who'd so irritated him mere moments before flopped limply against the window, glazed eyes fixed on him.

Shinji trembled and felt familiar nausea rise within him. He clenched his fist, shut his eyes, and drew in a deep, desperate breath to restore control. That done, he looked down on the unfortunate commuter, a grim twist in his mouth. As tender as a mother with child, he reached down and closed the man's eyes.

"I'm sorry." He murmured before getting to his feet.

It was a scene from hell, one of broken bodies alive and dead. Names were called desperately, along with sobs and cries for help. Shinji didn't want to imagine the number of dead in this carriage, let alone the rest of the train.

Up ahead, Sergeant Kaza desperately performed CPR on his colleague. Maeda's experienced eyes were peacefully closed, as if he were asleep.

"No…no…no you don't." Kaza all but hammered on his chest. "You bastard, you bastard…"

"There's nothing you can do." Shinji said, all too familiar with such a scene.

"Fuck off!"

"There's nothing you can do." Shinji pressed, but knew it was pointless. Grief was rarely something you could snap out of.

The Kenpei stopped uselessly hammering on the elder's chest and breathed deeply for a few moments. Rigid, he stood up. His hands twitched, whilst he couldn't look away from the corpse.

"See that?" He said, quietly. "That was the best Kenpei in Kure…and my Uncle." Tears rolled out of his eyes. At that moment, Shinji realised just how young the "rabid dog" looked.

Makes sense. Same eyes... Shinji's mind travelled back to how urgently the younger Kenpei had followed his superior, and how unswerving his obedience was.

"I'm sorry. For what it's worth." Shinji murmured.

Kaza grunted. With a savage swipe of his arm across his eyes, he crushed his grief, likely to be unleashed on the next person who offended him. "It doesn't matter."

A cry for help came from close by. Both young men immediately homed in to find an elderly man trying to lift debris, a full seat that had torn itself free. Without a word, Shinji and Kaza latched their hands around it and pulled, soon joined by a few others. A little girl lay beneath it. She shook silently, left leg bent in ways it was never meant to be as tears streamed from her big brown eyes.

Shinji remained stony faced whilst others grimaced or looked away. The old man scooped the child up in his arms. "It's alright now, where are your parents?"

"It's no use." Shinji gained a look of wrinkled surprise. "She's in shock, you won't get anything out her for now."

"Alright everyone, let's get off this train. File out orderly through the emergency doors." Kaza barked, savage but needed authority in his tone.

Commuters did as commanded and limped towards the exits. Some were as stony faced as Shinji. Others blubbered. Given that he could already feel bruised, he'd no doubt not a single person was unharmed.

"You, get her out." A man in his mid-thirties got the attention of the old man holding the girl. He pointed at the door. "I'll stay here and make sure no one's left behind."

"You'll do no such thing, citizen!" Kaza said. "I'll handle it."

"Lad, you need to get these people out. I'm a paramedic. I do this for a living."

Kaza mulled over that for a moment, then carried on ordering people around. Shinji noted it seemed to come naturally for him.

Stay focused.

"I'll stay too." He stepped toward the paramedic.

The man, potbellied yet jolly looking, frowned. "Boy, it isn't safe-"

"I've seen worse, and you'll need all the help you can get." Shinji put bluntly.

The portly man massaged his eyebrows. "Fine. Anyone else?"

A few voices, mostly male with a smattering of feminine tones, answered. Over the course of the next five minutes, they combed the carriage for anyone else still alive. Shinji's search was utterly unsuccessful, aside from finding his bag.

At least they died suddenly. Wouldn't have known what hit them. Shinji rested his fingers on the neck of a boy, two years his junior or thereabouts. There was no pulse. Why weren't you at school? Why weren't you anywhere else but here?

With a sigh, he closed the teenager's eyes.

"Found one! Over here!" Yelled a woman, some sort of accountant in a black business dress. Darting over, he and the other searchers gently lifted up an unconscious middle-aged woman. It was the stewardess. Blood flowed like a river from a gash in her forehead.

"Anyone else?" The paramedic asked grimly.

"No, we've been over the whole carriage." Said a forty-something man, glumly.

"Shit. Alright, everyone off. Now."

***​

The wreck was scattered over half a kilometre of Hakone's countryside. Some carriages had rolled so hard that they were no longer recognisable. Others were outright on fire. Shinji already knew half the train's passengers were probably dead by now. Calls for loved ones, however, were drowned out by screams of terror as dozens ran for their lives.

An eighty-metre-tall figure nonchalantly strode past. Its offending shin, one that had snuffed out at least a hundred lives, seemed no worse for wear. It was humanoid in shape, lanky, with arms that reached to its knees. Covered top to toe in serrated, white, bony armour, a spike stuck out from the back of each hand.

Atop its mighty trunk of a body was an avian like skull from which a feathery red crest jutted. Two beady little eyes peered out, black and unfeeling as the abyss. This was a creature greater than any that had walked this earth for eons and its mere presence cast a shadow that stretched for miles.

Four positron bolts streaked across the sky, fired by an unseen FCV division. They slammed into a wall of solid red lightning, causing the Seraph to buckle but not fall. Irritated, with a wave of its hand it unleashed a storm of its own energy in the general direction of whatever had shot at it.

A H-Field? Shinji looked on aghast. This monstrosity had just been struck by enough firepower to wipe out a city, and it shrugged it off.

Miles ahead, rank upon rank of tanks rolled out to attack their strange enemy, flanked by twelve-foot tall HMAC mechs. Above them, the massed formations of the Imperial Aviation Corps, of fighters and bombers, swarmed like angry hornets.

In their part of the world, this was the strongest military force of them all. All Asia was dwarfed by the might of Japan, now that China was a fragmented shadow of what she once was. The Emperor's soldiers had swept across the Pacific, winning him an empire greater than any Japan had before. Their discipline, their courage and their technological prowess has made the land of the rising sun invincible.

No longer.

The stomachs of all present churned. Shells, missiles and tracer rounds, thousands upon thousands of tonnes of ordinance, slammed helplessly into the enemy's H-Field.

It paused, as if bemused momentarily, then swiped out its hand again. A rushing wind of lightning swallowed all in its path. Squadrons of aircraft were brushed aside as if leaves in the wind. Artillery, armour and thousands of men disappeared in a tide of torn up earth and orange detonation of their ammunition. Shinji's chest tightened at the sight.

All this manpower…they're just throwing whatever they've got at it. They must be desperate…The hairs stood up on the back of Shinji's neck. It got through Defence Line 1, didn't it?

Even as they fought gallantly, Shinji knew they'd already lost. Every attack against this demi-god was futile, and unlike the last war, there would be no miracle typhoon to destroy the Chinese navy. On their own soil, with their own vast fortifications, the Japanese had been swept aside before the gates of Nakisawame itself.

Turn away.

The monster had disregarded them for now. People were injured and if there was anything in his bag that could help, he was obliged to give it. He set it on the ground and searched through it.

Some tissues, some water, hardly anything. Maybe…he reached in a little further and felt his hand brush against hard card. Grasping the object, Shinji's cerulean orbs widened. The photo…oh shit, Nerv!

For the first time in his life, the teenager cursed the fact he didn't have a mobile phone. Teacher had always said they "rotted the brain," so they were never in the house. He walked over to a score of passengers covered in cuts and bruises, one or two less injured walking up and down to check over them.

"Hey, has anyone got a phone?" Shinji asked.

One man, fat and shrivelled in a business suit, smiled sympathetically whilst he reached into his pocket. "Lost yours in the crash, eh?"

Shinji nodded, unwilling to admit the truth of his predicament. The businessman sighed and pulled out a tablet almost as slim as paper. "Make your call, and nothing else." He grunted as he handed it to him.

"Of course. Thank you." The teenager bowed in gratitude, then walked a few paces away for a bit of privacy. He reached into his bag and pulled out the photo. For a moment he let his gaze linger on the lovely Misato, then flipped it over. Dialling the number on the back, he lifted it to his ear and expected a long wait. It only rang for a second or two before a voice answered.

"Hello? This is a restricted line-" Said the operator.

"It's Shinji Ikari, the CEO's son." He cut her off. "I've been caught up in whatever the hell's going on today, so don't send anyone looking for me. It isn't safe."

"Alright, Ikari-san, I hear you. Where are you?"

"…uh…" Shinji looked around and scratched his head. "Some miles west of Nakisawame. I'm near the main railway tracks."

"Got it. Stay there, don't move, someone's on the way."

His heart leaped into his throat. "Didn't you hear me!? Don't send anyone-" The line went dead.

"Fuck!" Shinji hissed.

That's what I get for showing initiative. He took another look at the photo. His shoulders drooped. I hope they don't send you.

 

[Lord Sovereign]

"Japanese are rigid in their manners. The only occasions when they'll refer to someone without honorifics is if they are exceptionally close." Tourist guidebook for Japan

IV​

Two more had succumbed to their wounds by the time he got back to his carriage's huddle of survivors. They'd already been laid down with hastily gathered blankets covering them. Next to one, a middle-aged man knelt and sobbed. The other remained alone.

The man who'd lent the phone was where he'd left him. He and many others couldn't tear their eyes away from that mighty creature continuing on its distant and unstoppable rampage. Although miles away, the survivors could still feel the ground shake. At regular intervals shockwaves would buffet them as gusts of wind. The occasional sonic boom would make the children scream and clasp their ears.

Shinji approached the sitting man. Phone in hand, he bowed politely.

"Thank you." He said, handing it to him.

"Hmm?" The businessman looked up at him. "Oh, you're welcome. Quick call?"

Useless as well. Shinji nodded regrettably.

The elder gave him a sympathetic smile, as if guessing it wasn't satisfactory, then looked back out at the unfolding apocalypse. More blood drained from his cheeks as the roar of guns ebbed away.

"What is it?" He whispered.

Shinji followed his gaze. All but finished with Imperial armour, the creature now tried to stomp at the ants that milled around it. With a grim pride, he noticed them stand their ground. They only had their rifles to hand, yet the Japanese infantry took their enemy on regardless.

"It's going in the opposite direction of us. That's what's important." Shinji said.

The man said nothing. His deathly silence was only punctuated by the occasional crump of detonation, of a tank or field gun's ammunition store igniting beneath the armoured foot of a titan.

Shinji tried not to think about it. Those fine men in their fine uniforms helplessly shooting as death casually strolled towards them was awful enough. A worse question remained, however.

If the finest army in the world can't stop it…His stomach twisted into knots. What can? Will we just have to deal with this thing roaming up and down the country forever?

He adjusted the straps on his bag and turned away from this scene reminiscent of a Kaiju film. There were injured people littered around him. The duty he'd learned in that Refugee Camp long ago compelled him to help.

In this mess, they were all Japanese.

Roughly a hundred people were strewn out across the tracks and hills. Some clustered together whilst others scattered. By now, more than a few dozen had likely taken one look at the terrible beast and pelted off in the opposite direction. Whether or not they were wise, Shinji didn't know.

You flee, you put more distance between yourself and that thing; you stay, it's easier to be found and helped. Besides, whatever it is, that Kaiju just isn't interested in us.

"Food, drink and bandages for young and old first!" The paramedic's voice drew Shinji's attention. He stood not twenty paces away on a small box. At his side, sergeant Kaza kept a hawkish vigilance. In this ocean of chaos, these two were islands of a stern order.

"Keep people together. That way our boys will find us more easily." Kaza barked.

Although still terrified of the brown shirted policeman, Shinji altered his course and walked over to them. "Excuse me."

Kaza cautiously scowled, but the paramedic smiled faintly. "Hello again, young man. What can I do for you?"

Shinji shifted sheepishly for a moment. He'd their undivided attention but quailed beneath the coals of the Kenpei.

I could have done a runner…would he have noticed in all this?

"I-I was wondering if you needed any help." Shinji forced out.

The older man scratched the back of his neck. "Can you clean wounds?"

"And dress them." Shinji nodded.

"Dress them? Where did you learn that?" He blinked in surprise, shocked the mere child in front of him knew anything at all about first aid.

Shinji's expression darkened.

"I'd rather not…" He stopped himself, knowing that wouldn't do. A reason was needed, or else he'd be dismissed. "…the war taught us all a thing or two."

Weary, understanding sadness filled the paramedic's eyes; this was an abject truth for the Japanese in a post Eruption age.

"Indeed, it did." He sighed. "The stewardesses is still bleeding from that gash in her forehead. Clean it as best you can, there's bandages next to her. Some brave fool went and looted the first aid on the train."

"She's over with the other wounded that way." Kaze nodded in their direction. "Don't go too far. You're still under arrest."

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir." Shinji offered a bow, appreciating the sympathetic look given by the paramedic, then hastily made his way over to the cluster of people indicated.

Like the dead, the injured came in all shapes and sizes. Some were children whose shattered bones poked out of their arms. More worryingly, elderly casualties sat dazed with huge black bruises on their wrinkled skin.

"I'm fine, for heaven's sake. Go see to the little ones." Growled one of the older looking men. He bled profusely from the back of his head.

Little ones can take knocks you can't. Shinji couldn't help but smile in admiration. Just don't want to be a burden, do you?

At the edge of the batch was the stewardess. Blood trickled from a great gash in her forehead. She pressed a towel against it, but the white cloth still grew redder. Shinji's heart panged at the pitiable scene.

Shame most of your chocolate bars probably got crushed. Would have been a nice snack for the children, all things considered.

Alas, though they were stretched out, the intensity of children's bawling never seemed to fade.

Others moved among the injured, some uniformed as train staff, others in plain clothes. Like him, they'd come to do their bit. The stewardess bled, but her condition clearly wasn't serious, hence why she and others had been left for now whilst those in need were attended to. By her legs, a box of bandages lay as promised.

Shinji knelt down at her side. "Hello again."

She tenderly turned her head, her gaze a little glazed over. "Ah. Hello." Her tone was faint.

Slight concussion, no surprise. Withdrawing the water bottle from his bag, Shinji took out a small wad of bandages but paused before he wet them.

"How long have you been applying pressure?" He eyed the towel, reckoning it needed to be on for a little longer.

"I…" The stewardess frowned. "I don't know."

"We'll make it ten minutes more, just to be sure. I'll keep count." Shinji forced a comforting smile, like the ones the nurses and the doctor would give to their patients in the camp so long ago. In all his years, observation had been the teenager's greatest teacher.

He took out his MP3 and switched it on, except it wasn't for music. Like almost all portable electronics it told the time.

Ten minutes starting now. Shinji slid it into his pocket, and helped the stewardess keep the pressure on her cut. When that was done, he'd check the wound, likely see the bleeding had stemmed, then give it the best clean he could.

"What's your name?" She looked him in the eye, gratefully yet dazed.

"Shinji Ikari." He said, checking the time again. "Yours?"

"Akane Nakamura. Where are you from, Ikari-san?"

"Kure. Or at least, I've lived most of my life there, Nakamura-san."

"Really?" Akane chuckled. "Same for me, although I'm born and bred."

"Huh, small world." Shinji checked the time again. Not much longer…

"Which block?"

"Hmm?" He looked up from his MP3.

"Which block?" She asked again.

"Downtown." Shinji's smile curled upwards a little more. "Gaiku-30."

"You're from Gaiku-30?" Akane was flabbergasted. "A nice young man like you?"

Shinji laughed. "Why do you think I keep my door locked at night?"

She laughed too.

Rundown anyway, Gaiku-30 was a block of ill repute in Kure. Although safer than the ghettos of yesteryear, one night Shinji had heard the Kenpeitai smash down the door of whoever was on the floor above him. Gaiku-30 was the sort of place.

Still haven't got a clue what that was all about.

"What about you?" He slowly took hold of the towel and began to pull it away. The ten minutes where up, now he had to see what was underneath.

"City centre, Gaiku-9." She answered.

"Oh, that's upmarket."

"Not as much as you'd think. Just a three-bedroom house, for me, my husband and the kids."

Three bedrooms? Sounds like a palace.

Though it was nasty sight, the river of crimson had dwindled into droplets. The cut stretched from eyebrow to hairline and would doubtless take a long time to fade. However, this was among the most harmless of bleeding injuries as it wasn't anywhere near a major artery or vein.

Akane Nakamura had little to fear. She'd see her family again.

Shinji unscrewed the bottle cap and poured water on the bandages. Properly soaked, he gently stroked his makeshift wet cloth over Akane's wound. It had to be tender, or else he'd reopen it. The wound needed some cleaning though, at least before the better equipped first aiders could finish their rounds and do the job properly.

"You're good at this." Akane murmured, sounding less befuddled by the minute.

"I'm alright." Shinji vaguely acknowledged, focused on getting a bit of dirt out of the cut.

"I have teenage boys, I know your age group isn't interested in First Aid until they do their national service. How'd you learn?"

Shinji pressed his lips together. He'd explained to the other man because he had to, not like here. There were memories he treasured from the war, but they always intertwined with horror he prayed to keep buried. Phantom hot pain flared in his right leg.

She must have seen that look in his eye and knew it for what it was. Akane paled. "…you could only have been about five for that."

Wound cleaned to a bare minimum, Shinji sighed. "Six."

He waited for more questions, only to receive none. Akane wouldn't pry.

"Sorry." He shook his head. "I don't talk about it often."

"No, no, it really is no trouble. We all saw things we won't forget." Akane gently traced her fingertips across her wound and winced at how large it was. "I pray at our local shrine every day to not see anything of the like again. Do you give offerings?"

"No." Given all that had happened in his short life, if there were a God of some variety it could only be malicious and underserving of homage as far as Shinji was concerned.

He offered what little water he had left. As Akane sipped it, careful to conserve, Shinji felt someone tap his shoulder. He almost jumped in surprise to see a blue uniformed soldier in standard pattern armour standing there. The man looked to be in his thirties, despite his gaunt face. He had brown eyes and hair. His roughed-up uniform told Shinji this was no infantryman; red trousers along with khaki piping gave him away as armour.

A Tanker? His vehicle must have been destroyed somewhere around here. The thought of what it must have been like, to face that creature in the confines of any tank, chilled his blood. Lucky fucking escape. I wonder what you were you in. Type-90? Type-12?

"Afternoon, shitboots." His tone, words and cocky grin took Shinji off guard. "Listen, the fat bastard and Kenpei cunt over there told me to take over from you, so here I am."

Shinji's eyes widened, his mind stuck between abhorrence for this man's manners and the suddenness of him. The trooper stood straight, but he failed to hide his clenched teeth. There was a dark patch in his left leg that he took care not to lean on.

"Are you deaf?" The tanker snapped. "Piss off, civi. You aren't needed anymore."

Phantom response stuck in his throat, Shinji packed his things back into his bag, gave a polite farewell to a worried looking Akane and walked off.

"Alright, horsey. Let's look at the damage…" Shinji vaguely heard the soldier, a slight scowl crossing his face.

Isn't he Japanese? Where's his manners?

There was a loud crack and a yelp of pain. Looking over his shoulder, Shinji saw another man in the same uniform. Though long faded, his face had clearly been badly burned. Short black hair with grey flecks crowned his scalp. His eyes were grey.

"Corporal. Manners." The older soldier struck his subordinate again, less hard this time.

"Yes, sergeant." The corporal grumbled.

Satisfied, the sergeant's gaze to fall on Shinji. He stared for a moment and frowned. Uncomfortable Shinji began to turn away, when a military bark beckoned him.

"You! Come here!"

Though like a thunderclap, Shinji knew it wasn't malicious. Being around soldiers taught you the different varieties of loud voices they could put on.

Doing as he was told, as manner and martial law compelled, he walked up to the soldier. "Can I help you, sir?"

The older soldier looked him over again. "Is your name Shinji Ikari?"

Shinji almost flinched. There was nothing pleasant about someone else knowing your name when you didn't know theirs.

"Y-yes, I am." He nodded.

"Right." The sergeant nodded. "There's a woman looking for you, over that way." He pointed.

Following his gesture, a thought struck Shinji. "Is she from Nerv? Black hair, brown eyes-"

"Large chest, dresses like a slut-" The corporal muttered until his superior batted him around the head again.

"Yes. That's the one." The sergeant confirmed.

The teenager couldn't believe it. It seemed Nerv had sent her after all.

"Thank you…uh-" Shinji scratched the back of his head.

"Sergeant Kiyoshi Yukimura, 3rd​ Armoured, at your service. The crude creature behind me is corporal Eiji Fukui, my driver, and over there is my gunner, lance corporal Seiichi Oshiro." Kiyoshi pointed at a black-haired man clearly in his twenties tenderly helping one of the younger wounded.

"I'm honoured." Shinji gave a quick bow. "Thank you, Yukimura-san."

"No problem, lad." The sergeant offered a smile. "You're in good hands by the way. Katsuragi-san found us on the road and brought us all the way here. Strange woman, but rather nice."

Shinji gave one last glance at Akane, and saw corporal Fukui expertly applying bandages to her wound. She was in good hands.

He took a few steps, then paused.

…which way was he pointing again…

"Do you need directions?" Kiyoshi said gently, having walked up to his side.

Shinji cringed in embarrassment but nodded. "Thanks."

Kiyoshi lead him through the throngs that respectfully parted for the hardened soldier. Shinji meanwhile found a much needed spring in his step.

Train gets derailed, state of emergency is declared, Godzilla's armoured brother just tore the military to pieces, yet we still meet, Misato Katsuragi. Funny old world we live in.

As he walked, Shinji's cerulean orbs scanned the crowds ahead. He pictured that beautiful woman on the photo and tried to spot her.

"There she is." Kiyoshi pointed.

Misato stood out like a sore thumb, turning many a head. She wore a skin-tight black dress that reached from throat to thigh, all else bare save for a pair of combat boots. Oddly, however, a silver crucifix hung from her neck.

A crucifix? I thought Christianity was all but extinct throughout most of the Empire, let alone the Home Islands. I know it's not uncommon in Australia, but she doesn't look Australian!

In hand was a photo, which she squinted at whilst she scratched her head. Shinji had a feeling he knew who that picture was of, and she'd spot him soon enough.

"I'll let you take it from here." Kiyoshi clasped him on the back before returning to his men. "Take care of yourself."

Shinji gave a nod, then walked over to her as she looked around the crowd again, nose wrinkled, until her brown gaze fell on him. She squinted, checked the photo again, then let out an audible "ah."

"Shinji-kun, I presume?" She said, tone sweet and cheerful.

Shinji almost stepped back in surprise. "Kun" was a term of endearment and one not used for him in a decade, let alone with his first name. He composed himself.

"That's me. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Katsuragi-san." Shinji bowed.

Misato waved her hand dismissively yet playfully with a chuckle. "No need for that, we're all friends here. Now, are you hurt?"

"Just bruises." He decided it best to omit the corpse that shielded him from the worst of it.

"Thank goodness for small miracles, eh? Sorry I was a bit late. Traffic was terrible." She grinned.

Whatever response Shinji had got lodged in his throat. This veritable goddess that seemed as if she'd descended from the heavens, took everything in her cheerful stride, despite standing scantily clad in the middle of a warzone.

"No apologies needed. My train got delayed, anyway." Both quietly laughed at that.

"Spoken like a true commuter. Don't you have a suitcase?" Misato tilted her head quizzically, looking over his rucksack.

"Huh?" Shinji blinked.

"Suitcase? You came to stay for a few days, right?"

"Oh, well, yes, but it's who knows where on the train…"

"Hold on, I'll find it." She abruptly and briskly began walking over to the carriage. Shinji's eyes widened.

"What, no! It's not safe-"

"Pfft, what's life without a little risk? What carriage were you on?"

"Where are you going!?" A loud bark he knew all too well caused Shinji to wince. He didn't have to turn around to see the Kenpei march over to them, already predicting the iron about to clamp on.

Sergeant Kaza's nails sank into Shinji's shoulder and whirled him about. The Kenpei looked angry as ever, but more annoyed than murderous.

"I told you, stay put. You are under arrest." Kaza tightened his grip to emphasise his point.

"On what charges?" Misato's cheerful tone suddenly became stern.

"This isn't your business…miss…" The Kenpei raised an eyebrow at her.

"This is Misato Katsuragi. She was sent to pick me up." Shinji filled him in.

"What, are you running off to the red-light district?" Kaza snorted.

"What. Charges." Misato reiterated.

The Kenpei sighed and shoved Shinji aside before approaching her.

"Look, you've got a nice mouth on you, but you really ought to stop running it-" His words were all but smashed back into his mouth by Misato's fist. The suddenness of the blow knocked him to his knees as he snarled, scrabbling for his pistol.

A click, and a cold metal barrel pressing against his forehead stopped that.

Shinji's heart had leapt into his mouth.

What are you doing!? He's a Kenpei, you can't do that…can you?

"You'll die for that, bitch." Kaza spat through bloodied teeth, as the throngs around watched in shock and awe.

"There's a problem with that." Misato flipped out a Nerv ID card. "This is an 'I can do whatever the fuck I want and get away with it' badge."

"The Marshal will hear about this-"

"So will my boss, and I doubt he'll be happy at all."

"You think Gendo Ikari really cares that much about you?" Kaza sneered.

"Probably not. But given how scared of you he looks-" She nodded at Shinji. "-I'm guessing this isn't first time you've physically assaulted young Shinji Ikari here, is it?"

"I-Ikari.." Kaza looked back and forth between Shinji and Misato, blood draining from his face. "A relative?"

"Son."

The Kenpei licked his lips. "M-my mistake."

"There's a good dog." Misato patted him on the head. "We'll pretend this didn't happen. Off you go now." She gave him a gentle prod with her foot as he crawled away. Shinji gawped as she pocketed her gun then smiled at him.

"So, suitcase?"

***​

Author's note

Sorry this took a while. Initially I had another chapter planned but realised it didn't quite fit with narrative flow, so it had to be axed. Also, upon further thought, I made a few changes in the previous chapters, like cutting out pointless Japanese swear words, foreshadowing the Kenpeitai on the train, showing the power of the Angel/Seraph a bit more, etcetera.

 

[Lord Sovereign]

"I have a solution for that." Gendo Ikari

V​

Deep beneath the capital of Asia's greatest empire lay a rabbit warren of advanced technology. Nerv Central or 'Levav Base' sprawled across Hakone, with thousands of personnel busying themselves with matters that were classified to even some Ministry of the Interior heads.

At the very heart of this labyrinth of steel and cables was Nerv's CIC, a vast cavern in which a great hologram of the local area shimmered in red light. Troop and enemy movements were highlighted and tracked, as Nerv staff grimly looked on. Reports of casualties and the enemy's advance were called out, whilst armed security stood guard at the entrances. Personnel were smothered by warm air that had a strange metallic taste to it. The scent of their own sweat buffeted their noses.

Atop it this beehive of activity, dispassionately ruling over his fief, was Gendo Ikari. Seated on a raised platform where he could observe the innermost workings of his empire, he seemed like an unknowable king to his subordinates. Always he would silently sit and watch. Cold blue eyes concealed by orange tinted spectacles stabbed into the backs of all beneath him.

One of the technicians, a sweet woman in her mid-twenties, cautiously looked behind her and found the CEO staring straight back. She stifled a squeak then immediately went back to work.

Nose resting on laced, gloved hands, Gendo faintly smiled.

There was movement on the hologram. Icons indicating Imperial Army formations, rapidly scrambled away from the foe that now directly stood above Levav Base. Meanwhile, eight Susanoo class battleships continued to pelt the Seraph with their ship mounted positron cannons. Such was their desperation, they'd even resorted to their armament of twenty-inch rail guns.

It is fortunate indeed that a Seraph is so mighty. Were it not for the strength of its H-Field, who knows how much collateral damage to my assets may have been done. He continued to watch the display, as the "Seraph's" H-Field ironically shielded the city from destruction. Are you quite finished with your juvenile display, Marshal?

"Was this truly necessary, sir?" Said an older yet still strong voice.

"Yes. The Military Council were never going to get out of our way unless it was made clear just how far out of their league they are." Gendo did not meet the gaze of his pencil thin and wizened subordinate.

"Sir, comms are reporting casualty estimates at roughly sixty thousand. The Imperial Army is in full retreat, and General Kaito has committed suicide." A communications officer called up. Gendo offered a grunt and nothing else. Behind him, he could feel his Chairman shifting uncomfortably.

"You have something to say, Sensei?"

Kozo Fuyutsuki grimaced. "You're a cold bastard, sir."

"That's what it takes to live in this world." Gendo pressed an intercom button embedded into his desk. "Caspar. Unit 01's status?"

Two holograms popped up, side by side, one of a woman in her late thirties with short hair who wore a lab coat, the other a 3D model of a giant, armour coated humanoid form. A horn protruded from its head. He'd checked it earlier in the day to see red splodges across its blue luminescence, but now found it clear.

Satisfactory.

"Everything seems to be up and running, Gendo-chan." The hologram of the woman, Caspar, said cheerfully. "Muscle and sensory stimulation is complete, back slot is open and plug is ready for entry. Our rapid deployment system is fully online and ready to deploy Evangelium Unit 01 wherever you wish. We haven't got weaponry for it right now, but a fully operational Eva should be able to handle the situation...more or less."

Gendo grunted again. "Whereabouts of the Third Child? I am aware Director Katsuragi has collected him."

"He's arrived, sir. Currently being taken to Bunker-3." Caspar crossed her arms. "Instead of asking me, you could have just called Misato-chan. I'm sure she'd have been happy to play intermediary for you and your parenting issues. I do have other things to do."

"Have Dr Akagi intercept them and redirect them to the Cages. I will be present shortly."

"Very well. Don't I get a thank you at least? You do make me work for nothing after all."

Kozo laughed. "That'll be all, Caspar. Thank you."

Caspar beamed. "You are most welcome, Kozo-chan! At least someone around here appreciates me…" She frowned. "Ah. Northern Manmitsu Reactor's having a little fluctuation. I best take care of that…"

Both holograms fizzled out.

"I do not recall ever asking for her to be programmed with a sense of humour." Gendo said dryly.

"Caspar is revolutionary technology of questionable legality, sir." Kozo smiled. "Her developing quirks was inevitable."

"Hm."

It doesn't seem to resemble its progenitor much in personality...thankfully.

On the hologram, the enemy, the Seraph, now stood unmolested in Nakisawame. Shattered armour and corpses lay in equal measure around it, just as he'd known would happen.

To us they are but gods, and to them we are but ants. If Eva cannot stop it then we have no future.

On a monitor built into his desk, he brought up stills and excerpts of the enemy in action. Gendo paused and rewound them time and again, whilst Kozo watched. The Seraph, so giant a beast, should have scarcely acknowledged the gnats that swirled around it, only lashing out wildly when agrivated.

This was not the case. Its attacks were not clumsy or slow, but instead swift, precise and overwhelming. It trod, it smashed, and it cast out storms of red lightning with a swipe of its hand. This was a lifeform in full command of its H-Field, and more disturbingly, its senses too.

"Our enemy doesn't behave like the scrolls said." Kozo noted.

"They were never explicit about the nature of Seraphim." Gendo frowned. "It is curious, I will grant you that."

"Regardless, our benefactors will have their feathers ruffled over this."

Gendo snorted. "That is not an achievement, Sensei. But you are right. Dealing with them will be troublesome if we survive this."

"Can't be any worse than the board, sir."

"The board can't have us both killed if we step too far out of line."

And that would be the optimal result if they had enough of me…before I'm ready.

"A fair point." Kozo agreed.

Gendo turned to face him, a rare honour granted to few. "Don't fret. Destroying the Fourth Seraph will make us indispensable to them. Then they will put up with all manner of deviations."

"Will he though?" Kozo answered grimly.

That I do not know, and I hope I don't find out. Cold fingers raked down Gendo's spine.

The trilling of his phone caught his attention. His lips lifted into a triumphant smirk as he picked it up. "Marshal Motichka, you honour me."

"Spare me, old man." Came a savage snarl that struck fear into the hearts of millions of Japanese. "You've seen it. We've thrown everything we've got at your Seraph, to no effect. Do you really think you can succeed where we failed?"

Gendo straightened. His moment had come. "That is why Nerv exists, ma'am. Rest assured, we shall deal with your vexing problem."

There was a long pause on the other end. "I transfer authority of this operation to you. Do not fail me."

Gendo raised a bemused eyebrow. Fail you? Still baring those fangs as ever. What a good little hound you'd have made in another life. "Of course, Marshal."

The line abruptly cut.

"Making an enemy of her is unwise." Kozo said.

"It is nothing. She is nothing." Gendo dismissed him.

"She is effectively military ruler of the Japanese Empire, the country in which we happen to be situated. That is not nothing."

"In this game, nations are pawns. There is no piece on the board lower than a pawn. Even we are expendable to our superiors if we get out of hand. Should our Shogun become too much of a hindrance, she will be silenced."

"If you say so." Kozo's face tightened. "We're cleared to sortie then?"

"Indeed."

Kozo nodded. "Caspar, base wide broadcast please."

"Sure." The AI trilled.

Kozo cleared his throat then began. "Attention all staff. The Military Council has transferred command of Operation Heaven Breaker to us. We are now going to Level 1 battle stations. You've trained and prepared for this for a decade. Do humanity proud." He drew a finger across his neck to cut the broadcast, which the AI promptly obeyed.

"Caspar. Third Child's status?" Gendo asked.

"Dr Akagi will be intercepting him momentarily."

"Then we have what we need. Prepare Evangelium Unit 01 for activation."

"Understood, Gendo-chan. Let's hope fate favours us, because the numbers don't."

Below, activity intensified as the lighting turned red. Fingers drummed on keyboards whilst chatter grew louder and more frequent. Reports of Japanese Army activity decreased and numbers were crunched in their place. From on high the two overlords of Nerv watched their staff go about their task without pause or hesitation.

"They perform as well as they do in drill." Kozo noted proudly.

Gendo didn't respond, instead focusing on the Seraph at the heart of the display. Ever since the military had stopped attacking it, the beast had wandered around, as if perplexed at the sudden change. Now, its curiosity satisfied, it walked to the heart of the city and then swished its hand downwards. A storm of crackling red energy slammed into the earth at its feet. Gendo could feel the reverberations all the way down here. Even some of the staff below them looked up for a moment then got back to work.

"Our foe is powerful. It is unfortunate we have no seasoned pilots to use against it." Gendo murmured, only loud enough for his subordinate to hear.

"Are you sure you want to do this, sir?" Kozo lowered his voice too. He knew what his former student was really talking about.

For a while, they could only hear the chatter below until Gendo sighed. "We have no choice. Unit 01 is the only weapon in our arsenal at this moment in time. Rei cannot pilot."

"He is your son, it is only natural for you-"

"Yui's child, yes I am aware, sensei." Gendo snapped. Then, closing his eyes, he sighed and stood up. "I'll be in the Cages. Handle the rest."

"Yes, sir."

 

[Lord Sovereign]

"Nerv's importance cannot be understated. Although I am unable to reveal what your invaluable contributions are being spent on, I must assure you gentlemen, that it will pay dividends." Kihl Lorenz, Secretary General of the United Nations

VI​

They'd only just left the car park when the phone rang. Misato immediately flipped it out and held it to her ear.

"Katsuragi." Her face steeled with professionalism then softened. "Oh, hey, Rits, how are…understood. I'll be enroute as soon as I've..." At that, Misato frowned and shot a glance at Shinji. "Him? You're sure? He's a civilian...alright."

She clicked the phone off. "Change of plan, Shinji-kun. We're going down into the Cages. Stay close."

"Cages?" Shinji said, confused.

"Where we keep top secret weaponry." Her tone became deadly serious. "You cannot breathe a word of what you see down there. Got it?"

"Of course, Katsuragi-san. But…I thought we were going to a bunker?"

"We were, but the brass wants me downstairs, and they want you with me." She shrugged. "It's as much a mystery to me, kiddo."

Shinji didn't make another comment and elected to follow her regardless. Soon enough, however, his confusion was overwhelmed by his surroundings.

Levav Base was everything the conspiracy theorists said and more. Shinji took in with wonder struck eyes level after level that seemed to run on forever. It was an artificially lit rabbit warren of steel.

Something wasn't quite right, though. Each corridor was indistinguishable from the other, and a strange, yet familiar metallic smell filled his nostrils and smacked his tastebuds.

Is that blood? He tried to sniff it out through the clammy warmth of Levav Base, then dismissed it. Don't be absurd.

"You must be building a pretty big gun down here, Katsuragi-san." He said, eager to take his mind off it. "That is what you meant in the car, right? Special weapons research and all."

During the drive here, his chauffeur had filled him in on a great deal. That the creature currently on a rampage far above was called a 'Seraph', that Nerv had been founded to fight them, etcetera. It had all been a bit much to take in.

Misato grinned. "Oh, it's cooler than that. You'll be impressed, I promise."

"If it's all the same to you, I'll just close my eyes whilst I'm down there. I'd rather not see something I'd be killed over if I ran my mouth."

Misato laughed. "You'd do well here, Shinji-kun. Don't ask too many questions so you don't know too much."

No kidding. The Kenpeitai just leave people dead in the streets. You guys probably make them disappear.

Occasionally they passed other personnel in their cream uniforms, totally contrasting Misato's black dress. Yet still they gave a respectful nod of the head. Those who were armed and wore red berets saluted.

Salutes? She must be high ranking. As he pondered how someone in a cocktail dress could elicit such respect, an idea came to him.

"Katsuragi-san, this might sound like an odd question, but-"

"Fire away, Shinji-kun."

"Well." Shinji's tongue tied itself into knots. "I know you work for my father. Do you see him often?"

If you're high ranking, you must at least talk to the man.

"The CEO? Every now and again. I'm not exactly a janitor, so I can't avoid the meetings."

Alright, going well so far. Shinji felt a little excitement. Here was some concrete information on Gendo, a way of painting a picture of what the man was like these days

I should be about as tall as him now.

"How is he?" Shinji asked.

"Well enough. Social skills of a rock but he's in good health." Misato chuckled.

"Does he...talk about me?"

She winced. There was a long pause before she answered, as her hand reached up to touch her cross.

"No...no, he's never really brought you up."

"…oh."

"But he's really busy! Probably just wasn't relevant at the time. I'm sure he has been looking forward to seeing you." She put on a winning smile.

Shinji didn't return it.

***​

"Hey, Shinji-kun?"

"Hm?"

They'd just come into view of a pair of lifts. Given how many there were and how massive this floor alone was, Shinji couldn't help but think the conspiracy theorists had fallen far short of the mark.

"When we've dealt with grumpy-san upstairs, what are your plans?" Misato said.

"My plans?" Shinji asked.

"Yeah. You're in Nakisawame, loads of stuff to do here. Come to think of it, there's a few places I'd like to show you, but it really is your call."

Shinji pondered that. What am I going to do? I'm here for a few days, and no matter how awkward it is, talking to Gendo won't take that long...what to do?

"You live here, so I'll trust your judgement on what's cool." He said.

Misato beamed. "Alright. First, I've got to get you to the Imperial Palace. The gardens there are lovely. Hakone in general is really pretty and there's so many good views. Then of course there's the routine military parades. Take your pick."

"I'll think about it, thank you." Shinji smiled, a little taken aback.

This is the nicest anyone has been to me in years. What am I meant to say? Let's move on to something else before I bore her to death.

"Erm, speaking of 'grumpy-san-'" Shinji pointed upwards for emphasis. "I know you said you'll handle it, but you never said how."

"That's what's in the Cages."

His eyes widened into saucers. "Oh shit, I really am in deep."

At that, the ground shook a little. Misato snapped her gaze up and frowned.

"It's trying to break in. We need to hurry."

Her entire demeanour changed as she increased her pace, he noted, going from lax and upbeat to stern and purposeful. Even though he was taller, as a teenager closing in on adulthood, Shinji felt smaller than usual. This most gorgeous of women, clad in little but a tight-fitting dress, now commanded authority.

Guess that's why people salute you. Shinji found himself admiring Misato for more than her body. Then, a sobering thought came to him. Things must be serious now for her to act like this. Good grief, I hope I don't get caught up in anymore of it. I've had enough of this shit for today.

"Breaking in?" He asked, trying to keep up.

"We are target number one for the Seraphim." She said grimly. "If it gets in here, humanity is done."

"Done?" Shinji frowned. "It's killed thousands, but how could it wipe out the world? And why are you target number one? It's not like it knows who you are-"

"Classified." Misato said no more on the matter.

***​

After storming down two or three more corridors, they arrived at a set of lifts. Misato pushed the button that indicated down, then folded her arms as they waited.

The floor numbers ticked on slowly by as she impatiently stamped her foot, muttering "come on" under her breath. Shinji kept quiet and chose to watch the speed of the lifts. Given how quick they were in comparison to the practical horse and carts of the 20th​ century, these must have had a lot of ground to cover.

Finally, with a ping, the elevator doors opened. A pair of emerald green eyes stared back at the two of them.

"Oh..." Misato jumped. "I thought we were meeting a few floors down, Rits?"

'Rits' was a woman who seemed the same age as Misato, if only a little older and wearier. Of similar height and roughly as shapely, her dyed blonde hair was cut to shoulder length and she wore a labcoat over a grey uniform. She held a touch screen pad in her hand.

"The CEO has ordered me accompany you to the cages. Thought I'd get ahead." She made way for them. Misato offered a grateful smile as she stepped in, whilst Shinji, having followed her, edged off to the side to make room.

To his pleasant surprise, 'Rits' gave them both space and leaned against the corner. As the doors slid shut, she fumbled around in her pocket, withdrawing a cigarette and soon after a lighter. She lit it, and euphorically breathed in the thick smoke. Shinji tried not to cough.

"Are you ever going to quit using those?" Misato tried to wave away the fumes.

Ritsuko puffed some more. "No."

"They give you cancer."

"Nothing a dip in EPF can't fix." The corner of Ritsuko's mouth lifted microscopically. "Bit like getting older, eh, Misato?"

"Shut up." Misato grumbled.

Smirking, Ritsuko took one last puff then drummed the ashes away. She fixed her green gaze on Shinji, who immediately felt his hackles go up.

"So, this must be the CEO's son." She eyed him a little more. "You do look like your father in a way."

"Doesn't act much like him though." Misato said. "Shinji-kun here is a gentleman."

"My my." Ritsuko raised a humoured eyebrow. "Few of those enough around here. Be careful, Ikari-san. The ladies of Nakisawame come running for gentlemen."

Shinji offered a faint smile but left it at that.

Girls come running for me? He thought back to looking at himself in his bathroom's mirror. Like that will ever happen.

"How's Rei? Last I heard she was doing alright." Misato asked.

Ritsuko sighed and shook her head. "Still injured. Tenka-san says she's healing at a remarkable rate but she still broke most of her ribs." At that, she chuckled. "Not that Rei knows it. Still trying to get out of bed."

"There, you see? I told you she'd be alright."

"Mm."

The floor numbers ticked by. Shinji silently observed the two women. There was clearly a bond between the two, given how easily they spoke to one another. He'd seen it in soldiers before.

Yet Ritsuko was not fully at ease. Ever since "Rei" had been brought up, all she had done was frown.

Must have been one hell of an accident. I suppose that's part and parcel of working at a place like this.

The lift jolted to a halt, and a voice trilled "Cages." The doors slid open and the two women filed out, followed by Shinji.

It was somehow even warmer down here. Whatever air conditioning there was had been installed for cycling air, not for keeping staff cool.

It's not just the air though…Shinji mused. It feels like something really hot is down here.

"All the trillions of Yen we get, and they still can't put in proper air conditioning?" Grumbling, Misato could not have been enjoying her tight dress.

"The boss thinks it would be a waste of energy." Ritsuko answered nonchalantly.

"Ugh. He doesn't work down here though."

"Neither do you. But point taken."

"How far down are we?" Shinji asked, pulling the collar of his red shirt as beads of sweat trickled down his neck.

"Classified." Ristuko cut him off.

"A long way down, pretty much." Misato said, jokingly.

"You are aware of how sensitive all you're about to see is?" Ritsuko said to him.

"I can't speak a word of it. Katsuragi-san made sure I knew that." He answered, excitement creeping into him. I knew I'd be getting a tour of Levav Base, but I didn't think it would be anything like this. I actually get to see what they're making down here!

"Good." Ritsuko nodded.

Ahead were a set of doors, at which a guard stood on either side. They were unlike the security Shinji had seen earlier. Those men had only their cream uniforms, red berets and Chinese made semi-automatics. These had the battleship grey chest plate used by the Army, and in their hands was perhaps the most feared small arms weapon in the world: the Enfield.303 Mark V laser rifle.

Laser guns? Shinji had to look twice. How did they get laser guns!? The British never share their technology.

The two men saluted as they approached, which Misato returned whilst Ritsuko ignored them. The guard on the right frowned at Shinji.

"Is he…"

"Cleared? Yes." Ritsuko waved his concern away. Misato gave a nod of confirmation. Satisfied, he pressed his elbow into a panel, and the doors slid open. Behind them was a hollowed, manmade cave, lit by the same harsh lighting as everywhere else on this base. Yet there was a bloody tinge to it, due to the sea of dark orange liquid that lapped against metal shores. Causeways led over this miniature lake, in which was a half-submerged gargantuan arm from the elbow down. Covered from possible nail to unseen shoulder in dark grey and white armour, it hung out of a wall marked "Cage 01" as if attached to a larger body.

"How…wha-wha…" Shinji's tongue tied itself into knots as he observed the arm of something roughly corvette sized.

"Told you it was cool." Misato grinned.

No kidding. His head almost span. Nerv wasn't building a giant gun. Question after question slammed into each other in his brain. They all jammed up his throat.

"Took my breath away the first time too, Shinji-kun." Misato said, as they crossed the lake.

"And that's just the arm. Wait until you see the head." Ritsuko added, a twinge of pride in her voice.

Shinji still tried to process it all. Now he knew they were building a giant robot, if not actually completed it.

"No wonder the UN gives you so much money." He mused aloud.

"We have a larger budget than some countries, and it scarcely covers expenditure as it is." Ritsuko said, as they approached another set of doors.

This time four men stood guard, an entire squad. All were armed in a similar manner to the guards they'd just passed. Their fingers, however, were off the trigger and their rifles' magazines glowed.

Shinji knew their safeties were off. He'd always had a horrible feeling he might see a British laser gun primed and ready to fire one day, especially with all the tension around Tasman sea.

One squeeze of the trigger, and my head is sludge. He gulped, but followed after Ritsuko and Misato nonetheless. At least they aren't being held by redcoats.

"Where'd you get laser rifles from?" He quietly asked Misato.

"Royal Small Arms Factory. And Emperor Arthur was not selling them cheap." She said, already raising her hand to return the salute given by the guards.

"…the British let you have them?"

"With enough money you can get anything, Shinji-kun."

Let's hope the Chinese can't buy our battleship schematics.

His pace slowed a little now, footfalls becoming more tentative the closer they came to the now opened doors. Did he really want to see what lay behind them? What was undoubtedly a secret that men could be killed for?

When I walk through, there's no going back. He thought to stay there, to say he respected Nerv's privacy and didn't want to get in any trouble. But he was too far in now. The only route was forwards.

***​

Cage 01 was another cavernous room, more cuboid than the vast outside sphere, alive with engineers and technicians working a thankless job. Dozens of them were spread throughout in their orange uniforms. A causeway connected the entrance he'd just come through to another one directly opposite it; they were both guarded.

Misato and Ritsuko had paused at the centre of the causeway, looking up in admiration at the Cage's occupant. It had already stopped Shinji in his tracks as he stepped foot in the room.

Nerv's monstrosity was mostly submerged in the strange orange liquid, but its upper torso and head towered over him. Altogether, it couldn't have been any shorter than eighty metres. A pair of white, slitted eyes were set into a helm with a singular horn. As it was with the arm, the robot was covered top to toe in angular grey armour.

"Ikari-san." Ritsuko said proudly, looking over her shoulder at him. "May I present Evangelium Unit 01."

All he could do was stare for a while, before letting out an audible "wow." He walked over to them in silence. There were no questions, no bafflement nor snide remarks, just awe.

What Marshal Motichka wouldn't give to get in here.

"It's incredible." He breathed.

"Thank you, Ikari-san. Always nice to hear one's work be appreciated." Ritsuko gave a small smile.

"You built this?" Shinji said, surprised.

"Helped would be more adequate, but yes I did contribute to Evangelium 01's design. A heavy improvement over 00's in my view."

"00?" He tilted his head. "There's more than one?"

"Indeed."

"…How many have you got?"

"Classified for now." Ritsuko said. "Inevitably, however, the public will become aware. It gets a bit hard, hiding giant combat platforms after a while."

"Understandable."

Given the sheer size of it, the Evangelium must have cost the earth to build. All the money world governments had funnelled into Nerv, all the protections given by the UN, made sense now.

He surveyed the Evangelium again, slower this time. The armour tightly fitted its form. As he looked down into the orange liquid, he could see Unit 01's submerged, freakishly thin torso. Compared to the more bulky and sturdy designs of HMACs, the Evangelium was an odd weapon of war indeed.

"I'm guessing there's a reason you went for the giant robot route over a big gun?" He asked.

"It generates a Hawking-Field on par with a Seraph's. We didn't just build a super-weapon because it looks impressive." Ritsuko answered, nonchalantly, although seemingly pleased by some data on her pad.

H-Field? Equal to a Seraph's?

Dread crept into his heart as he did a double take on the Evangelion. Not only had Nerv built more than one of these things in secret, they'd slapped insanely power Manmitsu reactors of some kind in them.

Unlimited strength, and an energy field that can take positron strikes. Just how powerful is Nerv?

And his father was its master.

Why the hell have they brought me here? I'm just a kid. This is way out of my league.

"This is what you do? What my father does?" He asked Misato. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off.

"Correct." Came a voice from above. Everyone in the room stiffened.

Shinji's heart skipped a beat. He'd heard it before, a gruff and gravelly tone he'd both dreaded and longed to hear again.

"Hello, Shinji. It's been a while." Gendo said from a raised platform that looked down on the Cage.

"...yeah." Shinji felt his blood run colder than his father's gaze. "Yeah it has."

He hadn't changed much. A few flecks of grey, a few wrinkles and little else. Those eyes seared with their icy intensity, even from behind those orange lenses. Gendo Ikari was every bit as imposing as Shinji remembered.

The two Ikaris observed one another, one clearly in command. This was what Shinji had so desperately desired for so very long, but now he had it he didn't know what to do.

Should I say something? Or smile? Help me out here, Gendo.

Gendo gave no inclination of what he should do. His withering gaze bore into his son. It felt like it could cut open his heart and spill its secrets. Shinji broke eye contact.

This is going well so far. Why'd you bring me down here anyway? There's better places to catch up.

"We've been authorised to sortie against the Fourth Seraph. Activate Unit 01." Gendo said, as if Shinji weren't in the room.

"Yes, sir." Ritsuko nodded.

"Hold on." Misato frowned. "Have I missed something? You said it yourself, Rits. Rei can scarcely get out of bed."

"She can't." Ritsuko asserted.

"Then we don't have a pilot."

"Incorrect." Gendo said. "We have just received one."

The blood drained from Shinji's cheeks as his heart began to pound in his chest. It felt like all eyes in the room were turning to him as he now understood just why he'd been called here.

This…this can't be…

"...What?" In disbelief, Misato looked at Shinji then back at Gendo.

"Shinji Ikari." Ritsuko addressed him, with clear reluctance. "You have been designated the Third Child by the Marduk Report and are thus the pilot of Evangelium Unit 01."

You could have heard a pin drop.

"Didn't you think to mention this!?" Misato snarled.

"You did not need to know at the time."

"Didn't need to-" Misato ran a hand through her hair. "I'm Director of Eva ops. This is need to know! You can't send him out there, he literally just got here!"

She continued to rage, but her voice and all other sounds faded away for Shinji. He felt like a trapped animal, the cage door snapped shut behind him and the hunter looking smugly down on his prize.

W-Why…How…How could he do this to me?

The abruptness of the letter made sense, and the time it had come was no longer a coincidence. He had indeed been summoned because his father needed him, but the truth of it was worse than he could have imagined.

Shinji was a discarded tool, recalled because his father had run out of or broken the others.

I'm only here because I'm suddenly useful. Shinji's eyes began to sting as his fist squeezed itself again. Why did you have to leave me, mother? Why couldn't I just have parents like everyone else?

There would be no reconciliation or explanation. No warm embrace nor even a gentle smile. All that mattered was the giant in front of him and the giant far above.

"Shinji-kun?" Misato's hand gently touched his shoulder, stirring him from his stupor.

"I…I can't…"

"I know. But…"

She wants me to do it too. His shoulders sagged. No one here is going to stick up for me.

The room shook. Some dust drifted down from the high ceiling. Gendo looked upward, as if vaguely interested. "It seems to have fully zeroed in on us. Curious."

"Ikari-san, we need to get you in now." Ritsuko said, regretfully.

Shinji's fist clenched as tightly as it could. A drop of crimson trickled through his fingers.

"Why? Why me?" He asked pleadingly.

"Because you are the only one who can." Gendo coldly said.

"H-How?" Shinji blustered. "It's a just a giant robot. Get someone else. Someone else who's actually seen this fucking thing before!"

"You would not be here unless you were needed."

"Needed." Shinji choked back a sob.

"Whatever your issues with your father, now is not the time, Ikari-san." Ritsuko tried to cut in.

Misato hung back, as if unsure what to do. More expressions rolled across her pretty face than Shinji thought possible.

From above, Gendo impassively observed his son's distress.

"Caspar."

"Yes, Gendo-chan?" The AI chirped.

"Get Rei."

As much as he tried to retreat into himself, Shinji all but felt Ritsuko stiffen. Her head snapped up to fix Gendo with a glare. His mind ran over the previous mention of Rei, remembering that this person was not in the best of health.

Wouldn't call them out if they weren't up to it. So much for being "needed."

"Recalibrate Unit 01 for the First Child." Gendo ordered.

"Understood, sir." Ritsuko said coolly, before she marched off and barked commands.

Shinji didn't listen. He wanted to go home. His compact, dingy apartment seemed all the more inviting now, with its books and sencha tea.

Misato's hand had yet to leave his shoulder, halfway between a light touch and reassuring squeeze. It was almost enough to make Shinji smile.

I'm not of any use now, and she's still interested in giving me the time of day? That's novel.

"Ikari-san, do you want me to take him to a bunker?" Misato asked her superior. She got no response, as Gendo continued to observe Shinji, like a scientist waiting for the result of his experiment.

Deep down, Shinji wanted to look him in the eye and scream. He wanted to tell the man just how much he hated him, how he'd walk out of here and never speak to him again. But nothing came, except the desire to squirm and hide away.

Misato's hand slipped from his shoulder. "Look, Shinji-kun, I-I've got to do some things. I'll be back for you soon."

"Yeah…sure." He muttered. Off in his own little world, he was oblivious to Misato's look of anguish. Her footsteps echoed further away as she started talking to other personnel.

Shinji walked over to the side so he could get out of everyone's sight. It was where he belonged and felt most comfortable.

Most attention I've had in more than a decade today. From my own father, no less. He grimaced. If there were gods, they had a cruel sense of irony.

He leaned against the wall. As much as he tried, Shinji couldn't help but cast another glance at the Eva. The enormity of this thing he'd been almost pressured into piloting was inescapable. In spite of the turmoil that had happened in front of it, the Eva stood implacable.

Another time, I wouldn't mind taking that out for a spin- A shiver ran up his spine.

One of its great white eyes was squinting at him.

He shook his head. The Eva had its eyes forward.

Was it looking at me?

No, it was just his imagination. No one was inside the Eva, so there was no one to make it look at him. It was an inert construct of steel and plastic, nothing more.

The sounds of electric doors sliding open took his mind off the matter. It was now replaced with another.

A hospital bed was rolled in, flanked by nurses and one man in a doctor's white coat. He was stocky, short, and looked to be middle aged and greying, with a bristly moustache.

On the cot was a girl. From this distance she looked no older than him. A drip feed was hung next to her.

The bed was rolled to a stop just in front of Unit 01. The doctor shook his head and looked up at his superior.

"Sir, I must protest." He said, his voice gruffer than even Gendo's.

"Noted, Dr Tenka." Gendo dismissed him. "Continue."

Shinji stared on in shock.

Another kid?

Upon further inspection, she clearly wasn't just another kid. Her delicate, slender and sharp features were set upon a canvas of alabaster white skin. She'd a mop of sky-blue hair which contrasted a pair of ruby red eyes.

Blue hair, red eyes, pure white skin? You weren't born like me, were you?

There were stories of people who looked like this. Cannon fodder grown in vats by fascist Spain for a desperate European Union, they were a last-ditch measure against the British and Russians during their invasions of Europe.

Conquistador project. The UN banned that.

"Rei" winced as she lifted her legs over the bed. Reddened bandages and skin-tight full body white suit hugged a lithe form.

Shinji looked on in horror. This girl, a child, looked like she'd stumbled off the battlefields of Osaka, Kyoto or Himeji. Indeed, he'd seen walking wounded in better condition than her. And now Gendo Ikari intended to make her fight.

Shinji tried to challenge him, only to be met by those icy orbs again; Gendo was still watching him.

A tremor greater than any before slammed into Levav. There was an audible crash as Shinji almost lost his footing and fell face first into the ground.

"Shit." he snarled under his breath. His forehead throbbed with pain. A whimper like a whisper in the wind immediately caught his attention and upon seeing its source, his legs carried him toward it.

Rei had been thrown off the bed. She lay on the floor, eyes shut and teeth grit, trembling as she hissed with pain. He put his arms around her and cradled her. The doctor hovered nearby, desperate to intervene but couldn't without orders.

Gendo paid him no mind. "Rei, you must get in."

"Father, you'll kill her!" Shinji exploded.

"The Third Child is unable to pilot. There is no other choice." Gendo ignored him and continued addressing Rei.

Shinji shook with anger. The pointless cruelty of making this broken child fight against whatever the hell was far above, made him question what his mother saw in the man. But deep down, he knew this wasn't pointless. This all had a very sharp point, that only a fool could mistake.

Shinji thought himself a fool, but he really wasn't.

"Rei-"

"Fine." Shinji snarled. "Fine, damn you. Fine! I'll do what you want. Just leave her alone."

I will not let someone die on my behalf.

Silence hung as oppressively as his burden. He didn't look up to see his father's satisfied, triumphant nod, only hearing a blunt "as you wish."

Footsteps approached him, and that stocky doctor knelt down to assess the damage. At this distance Shinji could smell the coffee in his breath and observe more grey strands than first thought.

"Wound's torn…" Tenka growled at the reddening bandages then took her out of Shinji's arms. His lined with frown marks face then softened. "Thank you, lad. She wouldn't have survived otherwise."

Shinji's lips moved but no words came out. 'Thank you' was not a phrase he seriously heard often. Tenka swiftly carried Rei back over to her hospital bed, anxious nurses waiting.

As she was trundled away, Shinji could feel his father's gaze bore into him. He didn't meet it. It would make him angrier. After a moment of silence, the sound of disappearing footsteps touched his ears.

By the time Shinji looked up, Gendo was gone.

No explanation, no parting words. He'd been dumped on another platform. Shinji's fist balled.

"Recalibrate Unit 01 for the Third Child. We're sortieing, boys and girls." Ritsuko barked, crashing into his thoughts. She must have stood directly behind him as he held Rei.

Ritsuko had already stormed off as he stood up. His right hand still felt warm and wet. A droplet of blood not his own peeled off and fell to the floor. Shinji studied his hand, covered in red ichor. Tenka had not been exaggerating: Rei was in bad shape.

"Are you alright, Shinji-kun?" Said a gentle voice.

Shinji forced the smallest of smiles. "I'm fine, Katsuragi-san-" he paused. Misato wasn't buying it.

"In truth? This is the unhappiest I've ever been." He chuckled humourlessly. "And I've been pretty unhappy."

Another tremor reverberated through the ground. Clouds of dust were shaken free from the ceiling.

"There's no one else who can do it, is there?" He sighed, resigned.

"I'm sorry, Shinji-kun. This wasn't how I thought things would go today..." Misato grimaced, guiltily. "But you're all we've got right now. You're all the world's got."

Shinji took a breath, trying to summon the courage he needed. It didn't come. His clenched fist continued to tremble.

But there isn't a choice. That thing up there could wipe out Honshu, and maybe the world if Misato's right. I won't have that blood on my hands.

"It's alright, Katsuragi-san." He forced himself to meet Misato's gentle brown eyes and blot out any thought of the father who'd betrayed him again.

He would do it for her if nothing else.

 

[Lord Sovereign]

"A Seraph's Hawking Field is many orders of magnitude above that of even an FCV. It can wield it far more potently as a weapon too." Top secret Nerv dossier
VII​

He could feel the Eva's back slide shut behind him. Now he was trapped in this metal cylinder that had been inserted directly into Unit 01's spine. Utilitarian, there was nothing in it except for a hard steel seat and a pair of control sticks.

A coffin would be more comfortable.

Sitting in that seat, curiously absent of a seat belt, Shinji gripped the two sticks. His hands constantly trembled. Were it not so dark, he'd have seen them turn as white as a ghost.

Artificial red light suddenly flickered on, and he felt a little more relaxed, but not by much. Despite his fear though, he couldn't help but ponder the odd lack of a viewing port.

Maybe it's all holographic?

"Radio connection established." Said a young, feminine voice.

"Good, lieutenant." Misato cut in. "Tucked in nicely, Shinji-kun?"

"You could say that." He looked around, already feeling the walls close in on him.

"We're beginning synchronisation. Hold tight, it might hurt a bit."

A wall of pain slammed into his head. Shinji shut his eyes and recoiled in momentary agony as a blinding light engulfed the cylinder. As quickly as they came however, the pain and light subsided.

"What the hell was that?" He rubbed his head tenderly.

"Wait." Misato said.

Shinji opened his mouth to question her, then realised the dimness of his cockpit was lifting. From it, a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree panorama of the outside world gradually crept up. But it wasn't like footage from a camera feed, no matter how high quality. It felt like he could see straight through flesh and steel.

Shinji, bewildered, looked down at the platform he'd stood on not ten minutes before, seeing the full extent of Unit 01's mighty body save for its head. Holy shit…I'm looking through its eyes.

It was like being a giant. Indeed, it was to be a giant. For the first time in his life, Shinji felt powerful.

"What do you think?" Misato asked.

"Err…wow?" Shinji ventured.

"I can only imagine." Ritsuko cut in with a coy tone. "Lieutenant Ibuki, what is our status?"

"Ocular connection established, Dr Akagi." The soft voice said, clearly belonging to "Ibuki." "Commencing muscle connection."

He twitched as it felt like small electric shocks were administered to his muscles. Methodically, they went up from his toes to his head. Strength unknown pumped into each one.

Just temporarily, Shinji's fear had been eclipsed by awe. It were as if he'd become one with the Eva, as if its strength and sight were now his own.

"Diagnostics complete. Synch rate at forty-one percent. Evangelium Unit 01 is activated and ready for launch."

Shinji came back to reality. Whatever Nerv needed to do was done. They'd throw him at the Seraph now. His heart climbed up into his throat as he took deeper and deeper breaths. There was some faint crackling on the radio as personnel talked to each other, likely as they confirmed orders and made the final adjustments.

I wish I wasn't here. He his hands continued to tremble despite his best efforts.

"Shinji-kun, we're reading your vitals. We know you're stressed." Misato said gently.

"S-sorry."

"Sorry? Fucking hell, Shinji-kun, there's no need to say sorry."

Shinji shut his mouth and nodded almost to himself. The trembling had spread from his hands to his entire body. He felt sick.

"It's alright to be scared, kiddo. It'll keep you alert." Said a voice in a strong, foreign accent. Perhaps it may have been from the old USA, for whilst it was coherent the Japanese was garbled.

"Who's that, Katsuragi-san?" Shinji asked, eager to take his mind off impending danger.

"This is Captain Smith. He's our Columbian liaison." Misato's tone became more guilty and small, as if 'Captain Smith' was glaring at her.

"I'm also your combat trainer…supposedly." He said icily, but not at Shinji.

"Yeah." Misato said, awkwardly. "You'll be getting plenty of practice in future. But for now, listen to him. Smith-san was a HMAC ace in the Columbian War of Independence. He knows what he's about with Mech combat."

Plenty of practice…if I survive. Shinji's lip quivered as he pictured his father watching the whole farce unfold. Why has he done this to me?

"What's on your mind?" Came Smith's voice again, as Shinji felt a rumble. Unit 01 was being moved into position on some sort of platform.

"Not much. I'm fine, really." He lied.

"That right?" Smith said sarcastically. "Well, whatever's on your mind, put it aside. The only thing you think of is your enemy, because he'll only be thinking of you when he's trying to kill you."

The radio suddenly crackled with static for a moment. Shinji thought he heard what sounded like Misato's distorted voice arguing with Smith. He could faintly make out "oh that's going to make him feel real better. Baka-gaijin" but not much else.

He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it.

Silence ticked by until Unit 01 jolted into place. Beads of sweat trickled down the back of Shinji's neck. If there was ever someone who looked like they shouldn't have been there, it was him. Gaunt, pale and trembling, his attire was meant more for a nice dinner instead of battle. Even the imperial cavalry, riding their HMACs in their splendid blue uniforms, had Kevlar woven into the fabric. They also didn't have these odd hairclips that vaguely reminded him of cat ears. Battleship grey and black, they were drab things that fitted in nicely with his hair.

I'm going to die out there. He shut his eyes and thought of home, of his hill, his books and his beautiful cello lying all alone on its stand in his living room. If he died here, would they be requisitioned by the state? It was their property after all. They'd throw them all in a charity shop where they'd get dusty and broken.

Shinji had to choke back a sob. I want to go home.

A low humming reached his ears, that steadily grew to a throb. It reminded him of a train starting its Manmitsu engine up. Electricity, must be.

"Hmm." Ritsuko mused. "Hovering at forty-one. It's not as good as it could've been, but we'll manage."

"Not as good?" He asked, despairingly. Clearly his already abysmal chances were worse than first thought.

"Nominally your connection would be better, maybe at about fifty percent. But we don't have time for your suit and helmet today, so those A-10s will have to do for now."

"A-10s?"

"Your hair clips. They help boost your neural signal to the Eva. Used to be the default equipment a few years back, but technology has come a fair way since then."

He didn't answer for a immediately, hands awkwardly squeezing the control sticks. Slicked with sweat, they already struggled to keep a grip.

"What are my chances?" He braced for the sudden rush, for his guts to be slammed down as he was propelled into a combat zone once again.

"You'll be fine." Ritsuko's tone uncharacteristically softened, pity in it. "Trust in Eva. It will protect you."

"Protect me-" He was cut off by Misato's bark.

"All lights green! Evangelium Unit 01, deploy!"

Lights and steel flashed past in equal measure. He'd prepared, tried to imagine what this would be like, and failed. Shinji was crushed into his seat, teeth gritting as his insides were flattened.

Then the chute disappeared and above him was sky. Wispy, pink clouds gently crossed an orange late afternoon. He'd popped out on a hill overlooking distant Nakisawame. Shinji almost smiled in relief at leaving the horrid utilitarianism of Nerv behind for a more natural view.

Yet of course, he was here for something far less natural then Nerv could ever be. In the very heart of the city, shadow stretching off into what seemed the horizon, it stood. The Seraph had its back to him, a little shorter than he remembered only for his eyes to brutally correct him.

The Seraph was standing in a depression some twenty metres deep in charred concrete and molten slag that was once armour plating. Surrounded by a square kilometre of flattened city, it had been trying to directly blast its way into Levav base. Even with it not looking, Shinji felt his stomach tie itself into knots.

That thing's slaughtered armies. What kind of fucking chance do I have?

The Seraph's former swagger as it had cut through one of the mightiest war machines on Earth, a force that could have conquered the world of 1999, had disappeared. It had stiffened, gone almost rigid as if sensing something. It knew he was there.

"Alright, Shinji-kun. We're detaching you now." Misato said. Clamps he hadn't been aware of released, and suddenly he felt stronger yet less steady. Unit 01 was free to move as it pleased.

Speaking of which…He cautiously eyed the joysticks, still trying to keep the Seraph in sight simultaneously. They vaguely resembled what he understood to be a HMACs control system, but only vaguely.

"How do I move?" Shinji asked.

"You are synchronised with Unit 01. Imagine it as if you yourself were moving." Ritsuko answered.

"What are these for then?" He pushed the joysticks a little.

"We've found them to help pilots in controlling the Eva. Control sticks are a little less tenuous than psychic commands-" Her words faded away into a murmur.

The Seraph's beady black eyes bore into Shinji's soul. A second later, a spear of light exploded from its right hand as the Seraph advanced on him.

"Shinji-kun, you need to start moving now." Misato's tone became urgent.

Shinji froze for a heartbeat, unable to look away. The Seraph's gaze was filled with malice and focus for him and him alone. He knew what murderous intent looked like, and it was looking him dead in the eye.

It's going to kill me.

"Shinji."

He shook his head and gripped the control sticks. With every beat his heart pounded just that bit louder. He tried to picture himself walking, and pushed the control sticks forward. Unit 01 answered. The ground shook beneath its weight.

Cheers sounded over the radio. Misato chuckled, as if unable to believe it herself. "Well done. We don't have any spare weaponry for you, so you'll have to make do with your fists. Usually you would have to expand your H-Field to neutralise the enemy's, but we haven't had time to train you. Proximity alone should wear down the Seraph's H-Field."

"P-proximity. Got it." Shinji took deep breaths as he still trembled. He felt off balance and struggled to keep himself from toppling over.

"Kid." Captain Smith cut in. "We've got HIJMAS Hotaka within support range. If it comes to it, the military will provide cover fire."

An FCV? They couldn't do anything against it earlier. What good are they now? Shinji gulped, watching the Seraph get ever closer.

"Any advice?" He desperately asked. Surely the soldier would know what to do?

"All the enemy has on its mind is killing you. Return the favour." Smith said, flatly.

The Seraph's eyes, narrowed and filled with hate, left Shinji quite believing of this. Deep within, he felt his stomach be tugged by the urge to run, to flee before this terrible foe that wished him only death.

The Seraph broke into a sprint.

Thoughts consumed by terror, Shinji tried to force another foot forward. It failed to land entirely, and his balance tilted inexorably forward. Unit 01's arms were sluggish and could not stop it falling flat on its face. Where its head had been moments before, the Seraph's blade sliced through the air.

The comms became frantic. People tried to talk to him or relay orders to one another, all whilst he thought he heard Smith shouting at someone. Shinji paid little attention. His fifteen-year-old throat constricted as he realised he'd condemned himself to death.

It'll stab me in the back any moment now. I don't want to die…

The moment didn't come.

On the radar, the blip representing the Seraph slowly circled. It kept a cautious distance.

It charged…it's circling me…what the hell is this thing?

"Shinji-kun! You have to get up!" Misato desperately urged. He tried to obey, imagining himself pushing against the ground with both hands. The Eva rose like a glacier. The ground immediately shook with titanic footfalls, and an alien hand gripped Unit 01's head, his head, like an iron vice. Shinji screamed as he was lifted, as if his skull was about to be torn from his spine.

The Seraph forced him to look into its eyes. If it had a mouth, he may have been able to smell what it had for breakfast. Instead, Shinji could only quail before a wrath older than humanity itself. The Seraph tilted its head, as if bemused by his poor showing. It plunged its blade straight through Unit 01's stomach.

Shinji doubled over, air driven from his lungs. Searing pain slashed through his gut. He clawed for breath.

"It's just a sympathetic injury. You haven't actually been stabbed, it just feels like it. Fight, Shinji-kun!" Misato tried to reassure in-between crackles of static.

Unit 01 raised its mighty fist and threw it at the Seraph. It harmlessly clattered off that wall of red lightning, what had shrugged off the Imperial Japanese Army's every attack earlier that day. Annoyed, amusement spent, the Seraph ripped its lance out of the Eva's stomach, released its grip, then slashed down across its armoured chest.

Shinji felt like dying when he hit the ground again. He considered playing dead simply to make the pain stop, and for the Seraph to leave him alone. Too much depended on him for that, however.

Shakily, he forced Unit 01's to push itself off the ground and gently lift its bulk up. White pain still coursed from his torso, but he tried to block it out.

Pretend it's that Kenpeitai. You could take the pain then, you can take it now.

In a less stressful time, a forbidden euphoria would have been coaxed forth by the idea of punching that brute square in the jaw; that Misato had left the man on his knees, in stunned and bloodied silence, had been enjoyable enough.

But he wasn't fighting a Kenpei. This was a Seraph, and no amount of imagination could paint Sergeant Kaza's face on that helm of bone.

After a few seconds pause, as if astonished by the Eva's durability, the Seraph grasped it by the scruff of its neck, and with an almighty bellow tossed it through the air. Momentarily nauseous from the weightlessness, Shinji grunted as he slammed into Nakisawame's downtown districts. He careered through shops, office blocks and homes in equal measure.

Forcing himself to his feet, Shinji barely had time to peer through the debris cloud before the Seraph came at him. For a being so vast, it burst through the air like a dancer in their prime. Frantically, he rolled out of its way and tried to assume a fighting stance. With what little he knew of combat, Shinji gingerly raised his fists.

The Seraph snorted, then lunged at him again. Shinji tried to back away, but his enemy was much too fast. A blade of pure energy tore at his shoulder causing him to spin slightly. The Seraph followed up with a knee to the legs and knocked Unit 01 down again. It slashed at the Eva and cought it once across the throat before it rolled away.

Shinji felt like a reanimated corpse, covered in slashes and stab wounds that should have killed him. All higher goals, of protecting his country, of keeping a wounded girl from getting herself killed, had devolved into an animalistic drive to live.

The Seraph would not oblige him. It stretched out its arm at the struggling Eva. A storm of red energy crackled and surged forward, as the enemy wielded its greatest asset; its H-Field.

A storm greater than even the monsters that ravaged coastlines of the world from time to time slammed into Shinji. His skin felt singed as he was blasted across a good tenth of eastern Nakisawame. Had he time to look around, he'd have observed the devastation the blast left in its wake, of cinders and ash where there had once been city. The enemy, as ever, had no intention of giving him that time.

Shinji threw a mindless, savage punch in a desperate attempt to protect himself. Unit 01's battleship grey fist, as if in slow motion, went straight past the side-stepping Seraph. Its blade swished through the air, and everything below his right elbow hit the ground with a wet thud.

Shinji screamed. Heat seared through armour, muscle and bone, leaving a burned stump. The Seraph wasted no time and slashed downwards, cutting through the Eva's right eye and cheek. Shinji toppled backwards, all thought consumed by pain and shock. An apartment block crumbled beneath his weight, destroyed masonry providing a back rest of sorts for the ruined "war machine" to slump against.

Mankind's greatest weapon had been trounced.

In that moment, the Seraph had never seemed so big to him. Even when he'd stumbled out of that ruined train, Shinji had been more overcome by awe than fear, as if he were an ant. Now he was a fly, a dirty, annoying, fly that had buzzed in a place it was unwelcome.

The Seraph looked down at him, imperious gaze regarding this disappointment of an opponent with scorn. It closed its fist around Unit 01's throat, and raised its blade to strike at the Eva's heart.

This was it. He wouldn't go home, play his cello again, or watch the ships sail into Kure harbour. The Seraph would skewer him then and there. This strike would go right through the entry plug, killing him instantly.

The radio had gone insane, distorted by countless shouts. He thought he heard Misato's voice, but didn't listen hard enough. All he could hear was deafening silence before the Seraph struck true.

"I want to go home…" He sobbed, any thought of an honourable death slipping away. His life had been a disgrace to the Japanese way. His end would be no different. "I want to go home."

Shinji closed his eyes.

 

[Lord Sovereign]

"PMC my ass. They're a bunch of goddamn civilians playing at war." Captain Benjamin Smith, US 9th​ Cavalry, liaising with President Burnham

VIII​

What have I done? Misato felt the blood drain from her cheeks. What the fuck have I done?

Like a sheet of lead, silence had suffocated all noise in the CIC. Technicians, security and higher ups alike stared in horror at the hologram. Their almighty weapon, the work of ten years that had cost trillions upon trillions of yen, that which was meant to save them, lay helpless as the enemy prepared to finish its bloody work. Much worse for Misato, however, was the fate of the hapless teenager entombed deep inside.

He's going to die. Her cross felt heavier. And it's my fault. He wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me…

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Captain Smith glowering at them all. Distinct in his brown US army uniform, with eyes of the same colour and short cut blonde hair, this military man couldn't have contrasted the rest of Nerv more. Not a few minutes before he'd all but ordered the CEO to call in air support. Characteristically, Gendo had ignored him and chose instead to focus intently on the display.

Still, after Shinji had been hurled through much of downtown Nakisawame, Misato intervened, even though she risked overstepping herself. Shinji was simply not ready.

And we threw him into the meatgrinder all the same.

"HIJMS Hotaka is almost here. ETA of thirty seconds." Her top technician, a spectacled man, relayed smartly. Even as his colleagues gawped, he worked on regardless.

Just a few more moments you arrogant bastard, please. Misato didn't think to thank lieutenant Hyuga, her gaze instead darting desperately between the timer and the Seraph. It steadied itself to make the final blow. The FCV could not get there in time.

Apologetically and despairingly, Misato looked behind her at the man seated high above. Relentless and soulless automaton that he was, her boss was about to watch his son die.

Gendo remained unmoved. Indeed, he seemed more like a machine deep in calculation than a man. Misato felt bile rise in the back of her throat.

Do you actually care at all?

She tore her gaze away from him and back to the end result of their bungling. She would see death again before it came for them all.

I'm sorry, Shinji-kun. I'm so very sorry.

The Seraph's blade thrust down.

It punched through steel and flesh in equal measure, but it never came close to the entry plug. A great armoured hand had suddenly risen to catch it. Although thoroughly skewered, its fingers closed around the Seraph's fist and held it in place. Unit 01 lifted its head to look the enemy dead in the eye. Red lightning crackled.

But this power was not the Seraph's.

"Unit 01's H-Field is active." Said lieutenant Ibuki, surprise mixed with vague relief.

The Eva suddenly yanked its foe forward and delivered a head butt that gave off shockwaves. The Seraph roared and stumbled back, more dazed and infuriated than hurt. It clasped its helm tenderly. Unit 01 lurched to its feet, hunched and animalistic as its arms stretched out.

The Eva opened its steel jaw, as its eyes glowed red, and roared.

Its enemy, realising its foe had risen stronger than ever, shook off the pain and immediately charged, only to be met by the enraged leviathan. Unit 01 slammed into it. H-Fields flared momentarily then failed. The Seraph was carried clean off its feet as the Evangelium sank its jaws into its shoulder. It bellowed an alien bellow as it crashed to the ground. All but crushed, the Seraph savagely stabbed the Eva in its side and managed to throw the mindless beast off.

Whilst the rest of Nerv sat in stupefied awe, with even Captain Smith staring wide eyed, Misato remained single minded. "Pilot's vitals!?"

"We…we…" lieutenant Ibuki despairingly scratched her head. "We don't know. It's like the Eva has overridden-"

"Then find out." Misato barked.

The Seraph regained its footing and form. It danced back from the Eva's wild grasps, dangerous enough even one handed. After a while its composure returned, as if over the surprise, and artfully thrusted again and again. The tip of its blades scraped Unit 01's grey armour. Titanium bubbled and singed. Yet the Eva showed little sign of caution or anguish, only rage. Its enemy continued to dance and to prod, as if it were now a game.

"Cocky bastard, isn't he?" Lieutenant Aoba, a long-haired man both dedicated and unprofessional, murmured. Alongside Hyuga and Ibuki, they made up Misato's command staff.

"It's a Seraph, lieutenant." Misato said sternly. "It doesn't know what that means."

As she began to ponder what their next course of action would be, given that the titans matched each other, Misato realised the Seraph had momentarily erred. It had prodded the Eva again, although this time the grey giant had charged on as a beam of light punched through its shoulder. The enemy had no time to pull back, nor could it due to how embedded its strike was. Unit 01 crashed into the Seraph with the force of a tsunami. Barriers of red lightning danced against each other until they faded.

"Seraph H-Field cancelled!" Aoba called out.

Misato could only be amazed. Ten years of work was finally paying off as the Eva did everything Nerv had promised and more. We…we could actually stand a chance.

A salvo of falling stars crashed down as the titans tussled. An alien shriek of genuine pain echoed over shockwaves and the crump of detonation.

"HIJMS Hotaka is on site and ready to provide fire support." Hyuga said redundantly, the Japanese Aviation Corps moving a little too fast for him.

With its field compromised, the mighty Seraph was good target practice for the Hotaka. The long vessel utilised its missile compliments for more precise and less devastating hits.

Unit 01 meanwhile, although battered with its own field down, remained protected by its armour. Despite its loss of a limb and suffering all sorts of punishment, the Eva was still in one piece. And as Misato noticed to her relief, there seemed to be no damage to the plug area.

"Ibuki, have you got anything yet?" Misato said.

"Aside from life signs, still nothing." She shook her head. "It's like the Eva has overridden everything…I'm not sure Ikari-san is in control anymore."

"Beserker…" Ritsuko whispered, grim satisfaction mixed with fear. "It's gotten free."

You said it, didn't you? 'Trust in Eva. It will protect you.' The significance of those words hit home now. Although far above her paygrade, Misato had never bought the official line of Evangelium's true nature. The way Unit 00 freaked out last week…synthetic lifeform completely under our control, my ass.

Unit 01 did not relent. Grabbing hold of whatever it could, debris soon sailed through the air at the surprised and injured Seraph. It tried to back off and keep the Eva at a distance. The Evangelium would have none of that though. It charged with terrible speed and leapt through the air at the last moment. The Seraph stabbed forwards, to give what would have been a killing blow through the sternum for an ordinary foe.

Unit 01 didn't care. It brought its clenched hand down on the Seraph's head, cracking its bony armour and shattering every window within a kilometre from the shockwave.

A horrid scream cut across the orange late afternoon sky. Blue blood streamed from the Seraph's head as it staggered, blind for the moment. Another fusillade of missiles ripped into it. The behemoth was spun around only for Unit 01 to be upon it again, mercilessly pummelling its ruined head. The Seraph wildly slashed at its assailant, desperate to make the pain stop. It soon became clear the Eva could feel pain too, as its howls of agony joined the Seraph's. At last, those blades of light cut open the Eva's abdomen, just as their wielder's helmet gave way. Gore splattered it as gigantic intestines protruded from Unit 01's stomach.

The battleship grey titan screamed, loud enough that those hidden in shelters far below covered their ears and rolled on the floor in pain. It staggered back as the Seraph threw out a point-blank Hawking Field storm that finally put distance between them.

Both staggered, worse for wear than many had feared. Unit 01's armour was rent and singed black. Crimson ichor flowed from its gut, as the titan held stringy flesh uselessly in its hand. The Seraph meanwhile struggled to use one of its limp arms, blue blood streaming over its eyes.

Cold fingers crushed Misato's heart. Sympathetic injury. He could be feeling all of that… She shook her head, focusing the on situation at hand. She had to, for Shinji's sake. "Tell the Hotaka to increase bombardment. We can't let up on this thing."

After a swift cry of "yes ma'am!", the Hotaka swung its dorsal and ventral rail guns onto the Seraph and unleashed a broadside from its nine 18inch guns. One round struck the Seraph's ruined shoulder, causing it to stumble onto one kne, before the rest and a new wave of missiles hit its rejuvenated field. Some Nerv staff cursed under their breath. They'd hoped the military might finish it. Misato had not been so naïve.

A demi-god that slaughters tens of thousands of men and shrugs off direct positron strikes isn't going to go down that easy. The CEO was right, Eva is our only hope.

"It was worth a try. Order the Hotaka to hold fire. No use them wasting ammunition."

"Yes, ma'am!"

They'd wait for the two titans to clash again, for when the Seraph's field was down once more. To attack now would force the Seraph to focus on one target, and the loss of an FCV and its crew were casualties Misato would rather avoid.

The rattling of the Hotaka's guns faded, as a temporary peace fell upon Nakisawame. As it staggered to its feet, the Seraph fixed its gaze upon Unit 01. Man's ultimate weapon glowered back. They faced each other, a mere kilometre between them. To her eye, it was like they were catching their breath and trying to size their opponent up. Misato promptly dismissed those thoughts.

Seraphim don't think, and neither does Eva…She cast a quick glance at an ever more silent Ritsuko. Supposedly.

"Anything new on the pilot?" She asked Ibuki.

"Interference has cleared a little. His vitals are green. That's the best I can do for now."

Silver fucking linings.

"Keep me updated." She again snatched a glance over her shoulder, of "the boss" so high above. A part of her was disturbed that she was the one most interested in Shinji's wellbeing instead of his father, but that seemed to be the way of things. Gendo was a cold man, Ritsuko could tell enough stories about that.

As the smoke cleared, and the combatants got a better look at each other, the Eva looked at its ruined stump of an arm, then at the Seraph's head. For a moment the creature just stared back, as if confused, then after glancing at the Eva's gut, it nodded. In a burst of red lightning, a hand erupted from the Eva's stump, soon followed by the rest of the arm. It pushed its guts back in. The slash wound sealed itself shut. As it did that, the Seraph's helm clicked back together and its posture straightened.

"What…what!?" Misato blinked in surprise.

"That's impossible…" Ritsuko shook her head, refusing to believe as all others in the room did. "Seraphim run purely off instinct."

"And what about Eva?" Misato asked, unsatisfied by her old friend's sudden pursing of lips.

The Seraph slowly raised its right blade to its helm, like a fencer's salute. Unit 01 quietly bowed its head before they both assumed a fighting stance.

Formality was finished. This was to the death.

Hurried, urgent whispering tickled Misato's ear. She didn't need to turn around to know it came from above. She couldn't help but smirk a little.

Something not going to plan, asshole-san? Nice to know you aren't infallible.

Having lowered its blade, another burst of light jutted out from the Seraph's other hand. It roared, and the Eva matched it, before they clashed again. There was a flurry of slashes, hacks, punches and kicks, as the titans furiously assailed each other in combat that shook the earth. Even far down here, Misato could have sworn she'd seen some dust be shaken free from the ceiling.

"You guys weren't kidding." Smith said, having been previously quiet. "Eva is one hell of a thing."

She raised an eyebrow at that. By Smith's standards this was a complement.

"Apology accepted, Smith-san." Ritsuko faintly smiled as he scowled.

Smith growled under his breath then looked back at the hologram.

Unit 01 knew its opponent's weaknesses now and focused itself on them. Blow after blow rained down on the Seraph's helm, but the creature was far from idle. It had changed target as well, now going for the Eva's head.

Still going for a kill shot? Eva's too strong, you can't do it that quickly. Misato bit her lip in thought. Much supposition about the Seraphim came apart before her eyes. Even if they were beyond humanity in terms of the magnitude of their existence, they had at least a rudimentary concept of tactics.

Well if that's how this game is going to be played…

"Contact Hotaka, I want it to deploy its strike craft compliment. Attack the Seraph from its rear." She folded her arms and set her jaw.

"Understood!"

"What's the thinking, Director? Distract the enemy enough for our boy to do the rest?" Smith tilted his head.

"Pretty much, Smith-san." She scarcely acknowledged him, her mind narrowing. This was how she could help Shinji, her responsibility, so now this became her world.

"We could damage the Eva more than we have to…" Ritsuko said gently, the implicit masking of "Shinji" with "Eva" apparent to Misato.

"Unit 01's covered in armour, it'll be fine. Besides…" She grinned. "Shinji-kun's got one hell of a meat shield."

Like a swarm of angry hornets, Sanda strike bombers broke off from the Hotaka's ventral hangers, arched around the Seraph's rear, then descended. Cannons chattered away as volley after volley of missiles corkscrewed into the Seraph's H-Field, successfully dividing its attention. It tried to force Unit 01 back then blast at these gnats, but the Eva wouldn't let it. Unit 01 practically rebounded back onto it.

Once more, the Seraph's helm cracked. It was becoming clear that this Seraph simply wasn't as fast as the Eva. Step by step, it was forced back, its offense whittled away into nothing as it had to fend off the enraged Eva. Still its composure remained, its swings and lunges purposeful; the enemy had adapted and would not be forced into a frantic position again.

As clear evidence of this, as the hopes of Nerv CIC began to rise, the Seraph suddenly lashed out with a strike at the Eva's arm. The blade pierced straight through what might have been Unit 01's humerus. Stumbling back, the Eva gave a low hiss whilst a hint of triumph flickered across the Seraph's black eyes.

Misato cursed.

It's playing the long game now. Armour's weaker on the limbs.

The tables had turned. The Eva's reckless pressing of its attack had become predictable. Control of the fight was now carried on the edge of the Seraph's blades, as it lunged and slashed at limbs thrown its way. It could finally breath.

Great, seared gashes became more and more apparent. Some scraps of armour dripped off as molten slag, the heat enough to enrage the Eva ever more. Yet there was still method to the beast's madness. Unwilling to expose its arms long enough to be slashed off as earlier, Unit 01's attacks became shorter and more direct instead of great lunges. Whilst it landed a few initial blows, which even cracked the Seraph's mighty chest plate, the enemy swiftly adapted and danced out of range.

Misato's eyebrows knitted together in furious thought. The Hotaka could press the attack, but the way things were going the Seraph could momentarily shrug off Unit 01 and assail the FCV.

What to do? There's still its fighter craft compliment, but they won't put a scratch in it.

All the while, matters grew worse. The Seraph had taken to tossing Unit 01 around. It threw it back with great upward slices. After one of these, another H-Field storm slammed the Eva back, almost toppling the titan over. Unit 01 put one foot behind itself and leaned into a great ruin, a skyscraper that had been knocked down earlier, to balance itself. It paused for a moment and studied the ground for no apparent reason. To the eyes of Nerv there was only rubble.

It then lumbered forward, this time slowly and clumsily. The Seraph waited for it, as if it knew the game was up but refusing to rob its foe of honour. Unit 01 slowly broke into a sprint, each footfall landing heavily.

"Is it running out of power?" Misato asked.

"Negative. We've still got twenty-five minutes of energy, ma'am." Lieutenant Hyuga responded.

"Then what…" She shook her head as Eva and Seraph clashed for the last time.

Cut, bruised and slow, the Eva still attacked its foe like a typhoon, an unyielding force of devastation. Gone were its dodges. All was thrown into this last assault.

"Is it damaged?" Misato growled, as she tried to understand what was going wrong.

"Not too much, ma'am. Armour integrity is still well over fifty percent." Hyuga frowned. "I'll run the numbers again, can't be right."

She understood. There weren't any really bad injuries on the Eva's body, yet it acted as if life were draining from it. The Seraph smelt blood in the water and pressed its advantage.

It's not…it's not Shinji is it? Misato's chest tightened. Eva was a monster, but that boy was being made to soak up a lot of punishment. Could his mind take that?

The Seraph artfully backed up, letting its enemy wear itself out entirely. It battered away one more nigh drunken punch, then slashed at the Eva's throat. A gash was torn through titanium and whatever lay beneath it. The battleship grey titan clasped its throat and gurgled. Unit 01 staggered until the Seraph hit it with another blast of its H-Field, and the titan was flung like a ragdoll into the remains of the skyscraper it had flattened earlier. The beast's hand limply dragged across the ground as it tried to summon the strength to rise again.

"Pilot's heart rate has gone through the roof!" Ibuki reported, guilt inflected in her tone. Misato had to fight herself reaching for her throat. Phantom crimson cascaded out of that slit like a waterfall.

"Administer a sedative." Ristuko ordered.

"We can't, ma'am." Ibuki said helplessly. "We've got no control over Unit 01 right now, only the data we're receiving."

"Shit." Misato herd her old friend curse under her breath.

It's not fatal, Shinji-kun. Remember what I said…

What came next, she grimly noted, could be fatal. The Seraph observed its stricken opponent, then nodded in approval of what a fine show its enemy had put on. One blade retracted whilst the other remained extended. It brought that blade up into a plunging position, then charged. No arrogance, nor malice, just an eagerness to finish this.

Misato's mind already crunched the necessary numbers to understand whether it could actually strike the killing blow. The Eva's Manmitsu organ and its pilot, its most vital areas, sat at the centre of the chest behind solid plate armour. That armour was strong, but the Seraph had cut through it like cardboard. By some stroke of luck, its blade hadn't so far gone through the place which would kill an Eva stone dead.

"Tell Hotaka to broadside on my command!" She barked.

"But, Director, the Eva-"

"It and its pilot are dead if we do nothing-" she never finished her sentence.

At the last moment, Unit 01's supposedly limp arms snatched something off the dust covered ground. It was the steel point of the skyscraper's spire.

The impromptu pike punched straight through the Seraph's weakened armour and exploded from its back. Sheer momentum skewered it. Slowly and shakily, it looked down at its mortal injury, blue ichor washing out crystalline shards of the same colour.

Misato had to catch her breath.

It…tricked it? She smiled in disbelief. Of course, both their fields were down for defensive purposes.

"It's Manmitsu organ." Ritsuko murmured.

"Seraph energy readings fading, ma'am." Hyuga said. "I think we got it."

"I think" isn't good enough. Misato set her jaw sternly. "Tell the Hotaka to finish it off."

"Understood."

After a single broadside of rail guns, the Seraph was flung through the air, singed flesh flying off it in equal measure. An arm flattened a convenience store, whilst a foot tore up a road. The rest of it lay on its back, twitching. Unit 01 dropped its pike and stood up to full height. Momentarily, it seemed to survey its ruined surroundings with a twinge of regret before it approached the Seraph.

Sighs of relief echoed in the CIC, but no one cheered. They'd won their first battle, but it had been a grim one and far too close a call. Misato didn't look away from the hologram.

Going to make sure it's dead? I'm having words with Rits later.

The Eva crouched next to the Seraph. The once almighty creature madly flailed around limply. The Eva followed its stretched stump and set eyes upon a lower segment of arm, hot energy blade still extended and causing tarmac to bubble. With a calmness comical for a creature of such size, the Eva walked over to the Seraph's weapon and picked it up, then brought it back to its stricken master. Unit 01 helped the Seraph wrap its stump around it, as if clasping its sword. The creature stilled, as if calmed.

"What are they doing?" Misato tilted her head.

"One warrior honouring another, maybe?" Smith wondered aloud.

She was tempted to dismiss him outright, to tell him how ludicrous that was. Nerv's studies were clear, Seraphim didn't have concepts of things such as life and death, let alone honour, and it was doubtful an Eva did too. They simply weren't made of the same material as man. But today had been a day for convention being defied, so Misato held her tongue. Besides, who knew battle better than a veteran of the Columbian War for Independence?

Unit 01 tenderly took its once formidable foe into its arms, gentle enough to not let the Seraph's sword slip. Gone was the monstrosity's ferocity, only an odd sort of gladness that it wasn't alone at the end. The Seraph went stiller, then never moved again.

"Energy readings flatlined. Fourth Seraph has been destroyed." Hyuga slumped into his seat.

Only a few sighs of relief echoed throughout a mentally exhausted CIC. Misato was one of them, pinching her nose and desperate to sit down. In their most perilous moment, Nerv had pulled through.

A persistent thought refused to let her rest, however.

"Pilot status?" She asked again.

"Clearing up now, ma'am." Ibuki said, the red light of Unit 01's eyes fading into white. "He's flitting in and out of consciousness, but vitals are completely green."

"Dispatch recovery teams. Get him out. I want him in the infirmary within the hour."

"Ma'am?" Hyuga tilted his head. "Wouldn't it be better to bring Unit 01 back into the facility first-"

"Get him out." She reiterated, looking up at the projection of the battered, bruised and bloodied Eva. "He's been through enough today."

Misato turned around to look the CEO in the eye, to both draw some strength from that implacable face of stone and try to reassure him that his son was alright. But to her surprise, he and Chairman Fuyutsuki had already left the room.

 

[Lord Sovereign]

"A Seraph is not like us; it heralds from a completely different evolutionary path. It does not feel pain, fear, doubt, or mercy. Its only goal is to destroy all that is not like it and become the dominant lifeform, in accordance with evolutionary imperative." Top secret Nerv dossier

IX​

Power lay behind those doors. Tall, wooden, and wrought with iron, they were flanked by two fully armoured guards. Spears held at attention, and swaddled in black cloaks and plate, they appraised him from behind their helms with ruby red eyes. Despite his rank and obviously recognisable features, long white hair and black cloak over chainmail, they made no sign of acknowledgement as he approached.

Hreki Serdson swiped his hand out in command. Frustration bit at him, but formalities had to be observed.

"As you wish." The huskarls heaved the doors open with a great creak. Hreki could sense their disdain and ignored them. His work was dishonourable in their eyes. They forgot he was Erafir like them. With sword at his hip, he observed honour in his own way.

But in order to arise victorious, honour must be set aside from time to time. The spymaster, the raven on the shoulder of royalty, passed the precipice of mortality and into the presence of a god.

Darkness shrouded the meeting chamber, just as it had done back in lost Cynburh. Dragon headed pillars held aloft a pointed roof, lit embrasures hanging from their jaws. Iron, their most precious metal, was interwoven with them.

But the truest show of wealth in the room, was a throne of pure obsidian, elevated above and shrouded in shadow. Entire kingdoms had been worth less than that. Two terrible beasts with long snouts and vicious teeth, one black and one white, curled up at its foot. They watched the every move of anyone in the room. Coming up to hip height, they dwarfed the pitiful mutts humans had feared long ago. The wolves growled at his approach.

The king's assembly had been in session for a while. The usual bleating about grain and restless troops assailed his ears, but he didn't care. Outside this chamber, in the places they thought safe, was where he and his ravens listened attentively.

Look at them, bowing and scraping here yet calling him "Dark Lord" behind his back. Bile bit at the back of Hreki's throat, until his brow furrowed at an empty seat. The seer is absent again? What a surprise.

A dozen or so jarls stood before the throne, quailing beneath the gaze of the king and his hounds. Although his form was discernible, only the king's red eyes faintly glowed in the darkness. Upon Hreki's entrance, they flickered over to him. Lesser men would have died of fright.

"I believe our business is concluded." The king, his voice both snarl and rasp, a legacy of an ancient wound, gestured for his council to leave.

"My king, we still have the matter of the grain reserves to discuss-" Halfyr, jarl of Lafby, almost bit his tongue as he was fixed with a glare. Somehow his alabaster skin paled. "As you wish."

Armour clanked as the twelve men bowed and then filed out of the chamber. Human eyes would question their apparent youth for ones so senior, none looking a day older than thirty, but that was normal for their kind.

Odd. We reach full maturity at thirty, then stop. Humans just shrivel up and die after a while. Fitting for thieves like them.

As the jarls passed Hreki, their red eyes narrowed as they could barely contain their sneers. Not only was he a dishonourable cur, he was lowborn and weak.

The lords of forts, mines, ports and farms…you've not much left of anything to lord over now. Grain reserves and disgruntled soldiers, that is the limit of your concerns. Yet I still have my ravens.

Plate armour scraped against the throne of Norven royalty, occupied by Herwald the Great's heirs for countless millennia. The jarls hurried, whilst Hreki calmly walked over to the foot of the throne and dropped to one knee. As the great doors slammed shut, the only sound in the room was the steady, reverberating clank of a man who only took his armour off to sleep.

Thrymwald Hereson emerged, a foot taller than any of his kind, a race that stood head and shoulders over even the mightiest human. His grey hair short, and gaunt alabaster face slim, he'd the look of one who'd been at war. Aside from his height, he looked relatively normal for an Erafir, even down to his sharp ears. Obsidian plate covered him from foot to neck, although whether he needed it was a question many had asked. From his shoulder, a black cloak with wolf fur hung that reached all the way to the floor.

Black was the royal colour of the Norven, of volcanic ash and rich obsidian, and Thrymwald was king of all he surveyed.

"Hail Thrymwald." Hreki said, as protocol demanded.

The wolves continued to growl at him.

Why do those damned things hate me?

"Hoilst. Hasa." Thrymwald said sternly, but ruffled their heads nonetheless. The two faithful hounds snorted but did as they were told. Hoilst, the white one, rested its head whilst Hasa, the black one, kept careful watch on Hreki.

Loyal and obedient. Just like their namesakes.

The king, came to a stop just before his spy master "Rise, my friend." He lifted his hand in command.

Hreki obliged and met his lord's gaze grimly. "I wish the news was better, my king."

Thrymwald's warmth faded slightly. "Ierfr…"

"Is dead."

The king's jaw locked. "How many are aware of this?"

"Two of my ravens, me, and you."

"Keep it that way for now. I'll attend to his brothers and sisters personally." Thrymwald's hand fell to the hilt of his sword and fiddled with it.

"I'm sorry." Hreki said genuinely. He'd not known Ierfr too well, but the arrogant swordsman had seemed approachable and warm.

More like his mother than his sperm donor.

"…did my nephew die with sword in hand?" Thrymwald asked.

"Yes. He had a warrior's death. No doubt he'll be called to Walholl." Hreki said to a man who had become Ierfr's father in everything but blood. "He did not fall to any ordinary weapon, though."

"What killed him, then?"

"They call it an Evangelium. It is a giant suit of armour of some sort." Hreki paused, pondering how to put this. "It can wield a soul wall."

Thrymwald scowled. "Impossible. Man is weak. They do not have our strength and would not if they'd an eternity to prepare."

"Well…it seems they do, my king."

"…I should have dealt with this myself."

"No, my king." Hreki said, a part of his brain quietly acknowledging how insane it was for him to command his king. "You are what holds our people together. We lose you, then our race is truly doomed. Besides, even with their new weapon the humans were mostly lucky. Ierfr came very close to victory."

"How close?"

"He ran it through many times."

As he thumbed the hilt of his sword, Thrymwald looked up at the great black banners hung from the rafters of the chamber, red royal beasts emblazoned upon them. One of them, marked with cuts, had been the battle standard of Ierfr. "Tell me. How were your ravens unable to uncover the existence of this thing?"

"The enemy have been deeply secretive about Evangelium. Even among themselves."

"Are they aware we're prying?"

"No. It seems…" Hreki chuckled. "They perceive us as little more than mindless beasts bent on their destruction."

Thrymwald faintly smiled. "Well, half right." He thought silently for a moment more. "How thick is its armour? How strong is its sword arm?"

"As strong as any of your nieces and nephews, aside from Orcynn. Its armour is of less concern."

"That they could build such a weapon…" Thrymwald frowned, conjuring memories of an event seventeen years past. "Their tools of war are like thunder without lightning...how…"

"I take full responsibility for this. My investigations should have been more thorough…" Hreki's mouth glued shut when Thrymwald raised a hand.

"Do not apologise. Even the Gods are not above mistakes. Did not Waldin Allfather destroy the world in vain error?"

"That he did, my king."

"There you are then. You are at liberty to correct your error as you see fit, Hreki."

The spymaster nodded. "I will redeploy some of my assets to their stronghold. Cracking it will not be straightforward, but we've managed worse."

Thrymwald nodded half-heartedly, as if to himself. Dark circles hung heavily beneath his eyes.

Fire flickered in the braziers as it licked away the darkness. The crackling proved a welcome relief from the silence.

"Was the…Evangelium-" The king of the Inheritors struggled with that word, so alien to his tongue. "The totality of their defence?"

"No, Ardath. They had thousands of their war machines, worked by tenfold more warriors."

"And how did they compare to Evangelium?"

"Not much. Little different from when we last fought them."

Thrymwald hissed. "This is no normal weapon, especially of their ilk. Do you have any idea how it was built?"

"Only theories…"

"Share them."

Hreki licked his lips. He hadn't wanted to put forward any ideas until he had proof. "I suspect it may have something to do with the great spears."

Thrymwald stiffened. Even Hreki felt his blood run cold at the thought.

"They would not be mad enough…" The king caught himself. "No, they would. Our offensive grows ever more important, my friend. You must uncover the origins of this weapon with all haste."

"As you will, my king."

"Trickery and surprise. How befitting of a people risen from the dirt. Ierfr couldn't have fallen to otherwise?" Thrymwald growled. Red lightning briefly crackled around him.

"Not even a body to burn…" He sighed, fury giving way to malaise. "I need to get him a funeral gift for his journey to Waldin's table. Perhaps Grisca can help me…"

Hreki knew what that meant. I'm sure Grisca will be happy to compose a ballad of screams for his big brother.

"Grisca would jump at the chance to avenge Ierfr. He'll go…shopping for you." They both chuckled darkly.

"There was once a time when I'd have hesitated. His mother would never have let me, but now…" Thrymwald tiredly shook his head. "Now, I care not. Let them go screaming to the afterlife. Every last one."

As ever, at the mere mention of the Queen, the throne room felt just that bit emptier. Hreki's gaze fell to his boots.

I failed you.

"Much would be different were Aerid here, but she is not." He voiced what they both thought.

"No." Thrymwald's grip tightened around the hilt of his sword. "No she is not."

The king looked behind him, at the spot just in front of his throne where not a day before, Ierfr had stood. He'd bragged, he'd boasted and gone off with a smile. Now he was never coming back.

Thrymwald exhaled through his nose and massaged his eyebrows. "I shall consult the volva again."

Hreki fought the urge to sigh. He respected the Gods and their followers but had no time for prophecies.

All possibility, no fact.

"You disapprove?" Thrymwald raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not."

His master waited patiently, and eventually Hreki gave in. "She hasn't been quite the same since we awakened."

If she ever was normal.

"Being blinded does that to you." Thrymwald answered bluntly.

"But her whispers of your rule being humbled by a child?" Hreki shook her head. "My king, you've slain greater challengers than any whelp. Perhaps her grip on reality has simply slipped since her injury?"

"Careful, friend." Thrymwald's tone hardened just a little. "She is my daughter in-law and very much sane. Besides, I wouldn't want Heresyd to overhear you speaking ill of his bride."

"Of course." Hreki hid his wince.

"Enough of that." Thrymwald grunted. "I believe you had a report on my opposition."

Hreki had to bite back his despair and disgust. "My shadows know some of them scheme, Halfyr in particular. But what and with whom, we know not."

Another crackle of red lightning flared. "Perhaps sparing him was an error."

"Maybe…but Halfyr is the last of their old royalty, and there's a few hundred sons of Fyrgric ready to make their grievance felt should he come to harm."

"I am aware."

Hreki held his tongue, cringing a little. Though once ignorant of politics, the man that stood before him had become lethally sharp. A slow learner to be sure, but he learned.

"Forgive me. I forget myself at times." He bowed, only for Thrymwald to wave a hand dismissively.

"No…no…" the taller, stronger inheritor smiled tiredly. "You only seek to advise me, old friend."

They stood together in that vast, empty room, perhaps the most influential of their race. One reigned as a god king and the other acted as his silent knife in the dark.

The embrasures continued to crackle away. Thrymwald looked again at Ierfr's banner.

"Will that be all?" Hreki asked.

"One more thing." Thrymwald said. After staring at the black cloth for so long, his fist quietly balled and lightning crackled. "Tell me again of those who had a hand in my Aerid's death. Of those who have now killed my nephew."

The mournful malaise had melted away. Thrymwald's lip quivered. "Tell me of this…Nerv."

***

Author's note

And that is the first act. To my mind this is going much better than the original did, which proves just how helpful planning is. For some of the older hands among my readers, how does this all compare to the original? Hopefully it's at least a mild improvement.

Over the coming weeks, whilst I continue to work away and write new and shitty chapters, I will be hopping back over the first act and giving some touch ups here and there. Scenes with characters being introduced poorly or perhaps not taking matters seriously enough, I intend to fix.

 

[Lord Sovereign]

"Despite its outlawing, Nerv has access to cloning technology. They have a live specimen." Japanese Ministry of the Interior report on Nerv

X​

Warm sunlight tickled Shinji's eyelids. Slowly cracking open his eyes, he blinked at the midday sun that shone through open windows.

Where am I?

He was in a hospital, or at least something of the sort. Crisp yet soft sheets wrapped him up in a bed, offset by an itchy hospital gown. Outside stretched Hakone, although from here a few more pine forests sprouted up.

Shinji tenderly sat up, fuzziness clouding his head. His arm and chest felt sore and airy. He ran his hands through his hair and let out a sigh, then froze as the memories resurfaced.

Two beady black eyes bore into him from the depths of his subconscious.

Shinji's heart leapt into his throat and pounded for all it was worth. His hands rubbed his face as a ghostly, bone armoured hand, reached out from the blackness of memory to snatch him. Cold fingers squeezed his chest.

Fight it.

Shinji started counting his breaths and forced them to slow down. Slowly but surely, the phantom grip relinquished, and his lungs felt free again.

See? Just like mother told you.

The door opened and a nurse walked in, pausing at the sight of an awake Shinji.

"Oh…good morning." He said, sheepishly.

She smiled faintly. "It's afternoon I'm afraid, Ikari-san. We just saw your heart rate go through the roof, so I came to check on you."

"My heart rate?" Shinji looked down and realised he'd half a dozen wireless electrodes on his chest; the hair around them was shaved. "Thank you. I'm fine, really."

"We'll be the judge of that." She approached and put the back of her hand against his forehead. "Are you in any pain?"

"No. Just a bit sore."

"Hmm." She observed the rhythmic beat on the monitor for a minute or so. "Dizziness? Nausea?"

Shinji shook his head.

The nurse nodded to herself, satisfied. "Nothing seems too wrong. I'm just going to fetch our chief doctor. He'll give you a more thorough check out than me."

She turned to leave, then stopped halfway. "Before I forget, would you like anything to drink? We've got coffee, tea, hot cocoa, that sort of thing."

"Just some water, please. Where I am?" Shinji asked.

"You're in Nerv's convalescent home. We checked you out in the infirmary last night and found no real damage, then brought you here. Dr Tenka will be able to explain more." The nurse gently closed the door behind her.

"Convalescent home? All the way out here?" Shinji murmured, taking in the view of Hakone's emerald green countryside and great pine forests. "Nerv's got a lot of money."

Whilst still utilitarian, this place was much nicer than Levav Base. Better lit with fresh air seeping through open windows, it felt more like a room and less like a tomb.

A tomb. I almost ended up in one yesterday. Shinji looked at his hand. An echo of white hot pain sliced through his elbow. The previous afternoon remained scattered and misty to his recollection, but there was enough to tell him how savage it had been.

How the hell did I survive?

The door opened again. A man with a doctor's white coat over a grey variant of Nerv's cream uniform, walked in. He was stocky, with greying black hair and a bristly moustache. Yet, in his brown eyes, despite their sternness, there was a faint twinkle. In his hand there was a steaming mug of hot cocoa.

"Tough little bugger, aren't you?" He grunted, making his way over to the bed and setting the mug on a table.

"How bad was I?" Shinji asked. "I don't really remember."

"You flittered in and out of consciousness for a while. You mumbled quite a bit as well." The doctor said as he walked to Shinji's bedside. "The stress of it all was a bit too much for you, but you only had some bruises. How are you feeling?"

"Just a little tired, doctor…it's Tenka isn't it?"

"Dr Shiro Tenka, Nerv's chief medical officer." He gave a bow of the head which Shinji returned. "We met yesterday."

"We did?" Shinji frowned as he tried to remember. Then, like a fish swimming up from the murky depths, the memory came.

"Yes, we did, didn't we? You were that doctor with…" His breath stilled, as if the gravely injured girl were still bleeding in his arms. "…Ayanami-san."

"Yes, that's right."

"Pardon me for forgetting you."

"You took some knocks. Your memory might be muddled for a while. It's alright." Shiro smiled. "Well, I know your heartbeat is fine now. I can only presume earlier was down to some unwelcome memories?"

Shinji stayed quiet. He looked into his lap, not wanting to remember again.

"Lad, I was a soldier before I came here. Went from combat medic to army surgeon during the war. Stopped a man who'd lost a leg bleeding out at the battle of Kyoto. Trust me, I know all about bad memories."

Shinji mulled over what to say next, hesitant to drudge up the previous afternoon. But, if there were people in the world who understood terrible experiences, it was soldiers.

Besides. He told himself. He's a doctor. I should do as he says.

"I was just thinking about yesterday." He muttered. "I can only remember bits and pieces but…it was horrible."

"Aye." Shiro said softly. "I've no doubt. Looked bad enough from where I was. But you seem no worse for wear."

Shinji chuckled half-heartedly, then looked at the hot cocoa. "Is that for me?"

"So it would seem." Tenka smiled faintly. "Reckoned you'd probably like that after your glass of water. But as that isn't here yet, this must make do."

"Oh…thank you, Tenka-san." Shinji reached over and curled his fingers around the warm mug. Although he preferred tea, he was hardly going to turn down a warm drink. He took a sip and felt the rich taste trickle down his throat. Shinji sighed, relaxed. Out of the corner of his eye, with some delight, he noticed a black bag with shoulder straps lying against the wall.

"My backpack." A weak smile grew into a genuine beam.

"Yes." Shiro looked over his shoulder at it. "Director Katsuragi was quite insistent on it being brought in here."

"Katsuragi-san was here?" Shinji said in slight disbelief.

"Yes, came by to check on you this morning." Shiro answered. "Good woman. She takes care of her own. Had a superior officer like her once…" He shook his head. "Sorry, forgive an old man reminiscing. And before I forget, she did say she'd come back for you when her jobs were done."

Shinji looked down into his hot cocoa and blinked a few times. Someone had come to check on him. That was a novelty.

And he's said nothing about Gendo visiting me…

"Where is she now?"

"Off in Nakisawame, doing her jobs." Shiro scratched the back of his head. "Something to do with that Seraph corpse. Truth be told that's outside my area of expertise so I didn't ask too many questions."

"The Seraph…" Shinji repeated with a whisper. He could see those blades swish in front of his eyes, the almighty creature glowering imperiously down at him.

What on Earth was I thinking going up against that thing? Phantom whimpers of pain from a blue haired girl reminded him of what he was thinking. It would have killed her.

"Um, Tenka-san? That girl you were with, the Eva pilot. Is she alright?" He asked.

"Ayanami-san? Yes, she's fine. I've got trouble getting her to rest. Clones are hardy things."

"Clone…" Shinji frowned. He'd already suspected as much. Normal people did not look like Rei Ayanami. "I thought the Conquistador project was banned?"

"You'd think so, but not in Nerv…" The burly man's expression darkened as he shifted awkwardly. "Your father has authorised me to talk about some things to you. Only Nerv's higher ups are cleared for this. What I say cannot leave this room. Is that understood?"

"Y-yes, I understand." Shinji said, taken aback at the sudden change of tone.

Shiro sighed, walking over to the window with hands clasped behind his back. "Do you know how clones are created?"

"Not really. Only that you need DNA to work with."

"Close enough." He fidgeted with his hands. "Does Ayanami-san at all look familiar to you?"

Shinji frowned. It was an odd question to ask, whether an ethereal girl with skin whiter than moonlight, hair blue as the sky, and eyes red as rubies was someone he remembered. He almost dismissed it outright, until on further thought her face, indeed, resembled some murky memory.

"I...I guess. I can't put my finger on it thought."

Shiro steadied his jaw. "Rei Ayanami was grown from whatever was salvaged of Yui Ikari."

The silence hung oppressively in the air as Shinji's brain coasted to a stop. "What?"

"She is a clone of your mother, although with some other bits thrown in that I'm not cleared to know."

"M-M-my mother? But...but we did't even have a body to bury. How is that possible?" Shinji tried to come up with every reason why that was wrong, only for Rei's features to blot it all out. That angular and gentle face wasn't at all far off from what he imagined his mother looked like at his age. If the hair were brown and the eyes were blue...

No. Shinji's fist balled. Stop it. She is not my mother, she's whatever father cooked up in some laboratory.

His lip quivered slightly. He replaced me. He replaced us both with that.

"It's a lot to take in, I'd imagine." Shiro's voice made Shinji jump a little, realising someone else could see his temper. As if on reflex, he suppressed it and opened his fist.

"Sorry...yeah..." The teenager looked outside the window, trying to block out thoughts of Rei with that beautiful view. Yet, his mind could not escape the revelation, and now that view could only pale in comparison with his mother's smile.

"Is she here?" He tentatively asked.

"Yes, yes she is." Shiro gently answered. "After her fall yesterday, we had to do some quick stitches in the Medical Ward. Then you killed that Seraph and the danger passed, so we moved her here."

Shinji's fists squeezed themselves a little more. "Would I be able to see her?"

"I don't see why not." Shiro nodded. "First, however, I'll need to give you a proper checkout. Starting with that old wound in your leg."

"My wound-" Shinji stopped himself mid-sentence. Of course, during his time in here they would have seen that, the pale scar in his right leg. Please don't ask me any questions about that. I've had enough bad memories for one morning.

Shiro tensed, realising he was in sensitive territory. "Is it hurting you?"

"No." Shinji put bluntly.

"Alright then." The experienced doctor dropped the clearly unwanted topic. "I'll still have to do a few more checks before I can properly discharge you. If that's okay, Ikari-san?"

"Yeah..." Shinji murmured, thoughts of confused fury and disgust mixing with Rei's all too human whimpers. "Yeah."

***​

Shinji's new black shoes echoed off the floor. His apparently covered in sweat clothes had been sent off to be washed, and Nerv had given him one of their uniforms to use for the time being.

Beats a hospital gown. He welcomed being decently covered by something that didn't itch. The nurse had even said he looked nice in it. Probably just being polite.

As far as medical facilities went, this was one was relatively tame, only the occasional phone call perforating the quiet. A few nurses leisurely walked around here and there, not at all like the mad dash of Atami so long ago.

Bit less muddy than Atami. Shinji smiled. His little shoes had been caked in ooze back then. It was fortunate to have the sea so close, otherwise he and thousands of others would never have got the muck off.

Fond memories soon slipped away like fog through fingers as his mind drifted back to why he was here. Down the corridor he looked for a door marked "303," a little part of him hoping he'd not find it. But, as was his luck, there it was.

It was not an abnormal door. The same white colour as the other doors on that wing, it could have led to any hospital room. Shinji, however, could feel his heart beat that bit faster and his chest tighten. He froze mid-step, arm raised to push it open.

It would be rude of me to just barge in. I should probably go back and get Tenka-san. Shinji balled his fist and took a deep breath. No. This is like yesterday. You've committed and you must see it through.

The door opened with merciful ease. Beyond it, the room was the same design as the one he'd spent the night in, utilitarian and square with a heavily contrasting scenic view just outside the windows. On the bed, lay the reason he was here in this hospital, this situation, and even Nakisawame by the sounds of it.

Rei stared silently up at the ceiling. Still heavily bandaged up from her ordeal, her only movement was the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest.

"Um…hello." Shinji's voice ventured without his permission. Acknowledging his existence, her gaze slowly, robotically, fixed on him.

"May I be of assistance?" Her voice was like a whisper of wind.

"Huh? No, not at all!" The words awkwardly tumbled out of his mouth. "I just wanted to see if you were alright."

"My injuries are minor and will heal shortly."

A silence passed for a few moments.

"Is there anything else?" She asked.

"I don't think I've properly introduced myself." Shinji said shyly. "Do you know who I-"

"Shinji Ikari, the Third Child and designated pilot of Unit 01. I am aware of your identity."

"Yeah…" Shinji dropped his gaze, quailing before those ruby red orbs. "That's about right. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ayanami-san."

"Why?"

Shinji blinked in surprise. "Huh?"

"Why is it a pleasure? It is simply an exchange of names."

"Oh…" His shoulders slumped a little. Not only was it a near rejection of friendliness, it was rude by foreign standards, let alone the well-mannered Japanese.

I should go. I really should go.

Shinji felt tongue tied. He'd neither expected to get this far, nor be responded to like this. It was like talking to a robot.

"Are…are you comfortable here?" He ventured.

"It is satisfactory."

Satisfactory? Is everyone sure she isn't a machine?

"That's good to know." He forced out with an equally forced smile before changing topic. "How did you get hurt that badly? Must have been quite an accident."

"There was a test being run on Unit 00. It went wrong."

Given the state of her body, Shinji could only imagine what "went wrong" meant, especially in an Evangelium. Perhaps it was for the best Rei was so numb, as it preserved her from pain no normal person could cope with.

"Sounds rough." He said.

"It does not matter. I am replaceable."

Inside, Shinji squirmed at the way she talked, the way her inhuman red eyes patiently scanned him. She remained quiet, waiting for him to speak. On some level, perhaps she had discerned he was here to ask a question and simply wanted it asked. He obliged her, eager to get it over with.

She gives me the creeps.

"Listen, this might sound a bit out of the blue but…has father-" He almost bit his tongue. "Has the CEO ever talked about me?"

"He has made reference." Rei answered with whisp of a voice.

"Do…" Shinji swallowed, summoning his courage. "Do you know what your relation is to me?"

"I have your mother's DNA."

"Yeah." He chuckled at the bluntness of it, as if it were so simple a thing to be said. "I guess that makes us family."

"Does it?"

Shinji's tongue felt heavier than lead, as his heart dropped into his shoes. Somewhere in that bottomless pit were a few of his hopes and dreams; the rest looked to be toppling in any moment now.

"W-Well, blood of my blood and all…" He tried in vain.

"Yui Ikari's genetics were diluted via my creation. I was not born to her. We have no connection. We are nothing to each other." It was strange how so quiet a voice cut more than the loudest shout.

"I…see..."

He'd been rejected again.

"Is there anything else?" She asked after a while of heavy silence.

"No." Shinji muttered. Just as it had been with his father, he'd come this way for nothing. There was no warmth, no happiness to see him, only cold, analytical regard.

You'd at least think she'd be grateful…wait…she hasn't even said thank you! Even one with low self-esteem like himself would expect a little gratitude for what he'd done for her. But there'd been nothing. Rei's facial expression hadn't changed throughout their conversation. There had been none of Yui Ikari's liveliness or smile, only the unmoving metal of a computer in calculation. To him, this visage of his mother was like a corpse risen from the grave.

Rei Ayanami was a desecration, a bag of flesh grown to obey orders without question. His mother had died all over again.

Father. What have you done?

He didn't want to be here.

"I'll…" He only just managed to fight down the anger and tears. "I'll let you rest…"

Shinji exited the room post-haste, shutting the door behind him as quickly yet quietly as possible. It took every ounce of his strength to not simply slump to the floor and cry. He leaned against the wall and balled his fist as tightly as he could.

What did I hope to find in there? Did I think she…it would sing me to sleep? A tear trickled out.

That…that thing is a parody of my mother! Why couldn't I just have her!?

Shinji buried his face in his hands and took a few deep breaths. He then wiped the smudges of salty water from his eyes as best he could. Coming to Nakisawame had been a mistake, he understood that now. Both of Shinji's fists balled in frustration at his naivety, at any faith in the father who discarded him and the science experiment who rejected him.

He'd found nothing here, because there was nothing here.

I'll stay for as long as they need me. But when father's windup toy is fixed, I'm gone. He could already picture his little apartment and the dingy streets of Kure, sea air filling his nostrils and the cry of gulls in the distance. And once home, he'd put his father and his bastard creation out of mind forever.

***​

Rei's red gaze had followed the Third Child as he slipped out the room. It lingered for a while, before she looked up at the ceiling again, this time with the faintest trace of a frown across her porcelain skin face. A new thought gently lapped at the shores of her quiet mind.

Family…