I own what I do, not what GAINAX does.
As life is best lived by and exampled by the living, and in living, there are no censors to experience. So too, is fiction. This fiction, at least. Rated T for now, but be warned it may go M. Life happens.
Prologue:
This is the world you know. The comfortable world, the sane world, the simple world. Second Impact is long past, and also the chaos and madness of the wars before the Valentines Treaty.
This is the world you know. Tokyo-3 shines like a jewel, set in the hills of Hakone. Lake Ashi rests along it's southern border, a setting as the steel and glass glint in the sun. The setting cries out perfection, in both design and nature. Lake Ashi and the surrounding hills are lush, rife with greenery and the promise of wildlife. The many hot springs are a testament that the world here is alive. The city is a modern day Mecca; science and industry and learning combine here to rise above all other human cities. Tokyo-3 is the center of human culture, this is a certainty. Mount Fuji, the ever present sentinel, stands nearby, easily seen from within the Hakone valley.
This is the world you know. Time passes, seasons change. It's nearly fall here, yet the trees are lush. The air, heavy with humidity. Cicadas hold the silence back, a beast they easily keep in check now. There is an air of expectation there, within the jewel of the city. Perhaps it's from the children – school will be reopening again, soon. The heat, still awkward for many, has yet to offset some traditions. So soon, school will begin again. Perhaps it is due to the many, varied experiments that go on in the area. Tokyo-3 has become a center for innovation, invention, and controversy. Differing opinions are the seed for progress, and this city is no exception.
This is the world you know, for now.
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"Hey, Shinji!!" the girl screamed, her face in the sun bright, her eyes shining. "Faster! You can do it, go!" Below, the sounds of wheels, pummeled concrete and labored breath sped by. And her eyes never left him, as the wind of the mob's passing blew her hair out, glinting in the sun along it's highlights. Screaming her enthusiasm again, the boy heard and smiled slightly, his eyes on the goal.
'Yeah,' he thought to himself. 'I can do it.' Body straining, all his focus on one point ahead of him, he lunged and kicked, and easily broke from the pack, his smaller frame easily slipping between the others. Easily taking the tape with him, and his with it, his first win.
His smile threatened to split his cheeks as he looked at the tape clutched in his hands. 'My first win. Just me.'
Soft but insistent arms wrapped around him suddenly and he blinked, surprised a moment until he met the eyes, the smiles around him. Holding out the scrap of tape in both hands, he laughed, and they laughed with him.
'Never just me. I'm never alone, now.'
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Amber, it was the totality of her world again. Try as she would, the empty tranquility would not come. Each time, faces, the tidal pull of emotions would disrupt her quiet mind.
Not that she minded. Or would discard these feelings, these precious things of her own. They were hers. In the world she existed in, so few things could be labeled such, and each was jealously guarded.
It was a supreme effort of will to keep her expression in it's facade of neutrality.
The doctor's eyes narrowed, as she looked over the data before her. Those same eyes flicked up to meet, and quickly slide away from the crimson gaze leveled at her.
Even the glass of the tube did nothing to soften that glare. The girl inhabiting it knew that, but didn't care.
"Rei, have you been maintaining your medication?" The question was partially reprimand, the tone indicating the doctor knew the 'girl' before her would be answering as she expected.
"Yes."
Painted lips narrowed, the sigh ruffling blonde hair before her nose. The doctor wondered silently, watching the monitors say everything and nothing about the youth before her, 'I wonder how long this can go on?'
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Fingers flexed in the glove, causing the fabric and plastic to creak and rasp with strain. She smiled at the feeling, the sound. 'Still here, still in the game,' her thoughts rounded, rebounded on that one simple statement for many moments.
The lights came up, and she watched the world go dizzying, insane, but she kept it together. "Keep it solid, yeah," her voice echoed into the central chamber. Her lip quirked at the corner.
A voice, as much in as outside her head, answered almost immediately, "Keep what together, Mana?" Blue eyes rolled.
"Don't worry about it, Stacy." Her voice, despite being serious still carried that ever present edge of a smile. "Ready to go for a walk?"
Stacy should have answered immediately, but paused, almost for effect. "Such a phrase carries connotations of the object in reference being unable to manage it's own faculties, of a fashion. This does not make sense. Are you insisting I need to be walked, Mana?" The auburn haired girl pulled her visor down from the helmet she wore and grinned.
"'Course not, just making smalltalk," realizing this would only elicit more questions, she picked up quickly. "Initiate self diagnostic, autistic mode engage; level five logging to audio. Primary controls shift to direct cogitative interface." The cabin hummed to life, as the machine around her did the same.
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The lights went down, and with it the sound resonating beneath her chin, through her hand. There was a pause, probably three heartbeats before it began.
It never failed. That pause scared her to death. Her own heartbeat sped up, painfully hammering against her throat, the space over her breast feeling bruised suddenly.
They clapped. Oh god how they clapped. It was a tide, a flood. She laughed and it was that same confidant, easy laugh. The fake laugh. It was what they wanted; she knew her talent, and it was part of her charm.
A small part of her mind cringed at that. 'This isn't me.' She smiled, waving the bow over her head in a broad sweep – an imperious gesture. 'This is who I have to be.'
In Asuka's mind, she laughed nervously before the concert hall, relieved her performance was acceptable, glad of their praise, and comforted by the strong hands of her teacher, wrapping her in a companionable hug.
The concert hall rang with applause and calls of bravo, but no one came close to her. No one offered her a comforting hand, or the companionship of contact. She was their dream; a culmination of effort and experience. They were great, through her.
"But I'm just Asuka," she insisted to the concert hall in her mind.
-
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Fourteen years as a ghost, an echo. 'Is it time, now? Is it finally my time?' A pain, sharp and aching, spokeyes.
'My... chest?' Amber fluid splashed against the ground, and a subdued, quiet cough echoed about the cold, lifeless room. He listened to it, an overwhelming sense of wrongness encompassing his existence. His... 'I am male?'
The man before him moved with the sound of gears clicking, hydraulics wheezing and plastic rasping against necrotic flesh.
A small frown creased the pale youth's lips as he regarded the 'man' before him, still trying to find equilibrium in the clutch of gravity and air suddenly.
Said entity regarded him back, eyes veiled with metal and glass, a distance between himself and the thing on the floor an impassible gulf. "Are you satisfied with your... vessel, Tabris?"
"Of course," he spoke, his voice queued to flippancy. Inspecting it, despite his previous statements, Tabris marveled at the fluid machinery of his new vessel. In spite of his fascination, there was one thing that troubled him, and as he stared around the room, it finally dawned on him.
Blinking, he looked back to the smirking man before him, mouth working slowly. "My..." the words died on his lips as darkness slid around him quietly.
-
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Tick.
The clock around his wrist and the chess piece spoke at precisely the same moment. "So, you think simply tossing the children together like this, without any direct..." Grey brows furrowed, searching for the proper words, contemplating the board before him. "Discussion, is wise? Will they really come together and do what's needed?"
Immediately after his piece was set, a second was moved.
Tick.
But the hand holding it lingered, but not with indecision. It was a point, an emphasis. "They will do what's needed. It would be impossible for them to do anything else." The hand over the black rook finally retreated, back to rest under the chin of it's observant owner. "It is how this works. Free will is only as destructive to a scenario as you allow it venues to explore."
A huff and grumble were the opponent's only response, the board before him the focus of his gaze. Moments passed as he deliberated.
Tick.
"I think, that within the nature of free will, lies the potential to break down the strongest limitations."
Again, his move was instantly countered, this time a piece lost.
Tick.
With a smile lacking any warmth, the gloved hand's bishop tapped a queen to the side and took it's place. "For that, one must perceive said limitations."
A weathered face smiled, rueful. He reached out and slipped a key piece to the back of the speaker's defenses, the sacrifice play the opening needed to pose the needed distraction. "You assume, that even those things you use to limit have no freedom to choose to be or not be tools. I would advise caution, in presuming too much, Ikari." Considering the board quietly, he sighed. Such irony. "Checkmate, my student."
The seconds ticked away quietly, without any sign of reaction, movement from either party.
"Indeed."
The five dossiers on the desk were unheeded, their contents memorized already, long ago.
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The darkness of the room was pervasive, the dour lighting only emphasizing the chill of the space. The four inhabitants stared at one another, two uneasily, one stoic and one simply observant. Beyond them, the windows shone the eerie orange and red that forced all there into silhouette.
"The stage is set. Soon, the actors will all be in place," the figure sitting glances up, as if noticing the other room's occupants for the first time. Light glints sharply from the glasses he wears, but the glare never seems to fall upon any of the gathered.
One silhouette wraps arms around herself, looking down, to the side, away from the man behind the desk. "I still feel this is all so unnecessary, if we simply explained why-"
"Your position is to guide, observe, report, and limit the situation," the glasses turned to her, but again, the light never touched another. "Remember your role, Captain. And why it is you are here."
"Yes sir." She falls silent for the rest of the time they attend the man behind the desk.
Another steps forward, a folder landing on the desk from her outstretched hand. "Progress on the activation of Unit 00; all failures. She – it is unusable for now." Wish a sweeping gesture, her hand indicated not only the afore mentioned target, but the girl who's picture was laid out before him.
A slight pause, and the women shift uncomfortably in the cold, the scrutinizing gaze of the Commander unreadable behind those glasses. "Proceed with activation tests as scheduled."
The woman, her hand still outstretched over the picture hesitates. "Yes, sir."
Silently, behind them but visible to all, the stately profile observes the machinations and puppeteering of his pupil, and extending forth, the web grows and gains. "This chain of ever complex lies and manipulations can only end in tragedy, my student."
A smile crosses the face behind the folded hands, but veiled by them, the gesture is lost to time. "As it should be."
-End, Prologue.
A/N: Simple and clean, if in the veritable form of eye-catch commercial. Scenes up to the dialogs are not sequential. They simply are.