RRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAORRRRRRRRRRRRR!
Captain Aida jerked awake as the blaring of the alarm breached his dreams. Without thinking, he jumped down off of his bunk and rushed out the door, only pausing to grab his headset on the way out.
Around him, the base bustled. Soldiers rushed to and fro, racing to their posts, carrying vital equipment and most of all getting in each other's way. VTOLs were already lifting off from the pads along the side of the base's apron, engines straining against the weight of missiles and gun-pods. As Aida raced towards his tank, a convoy of artillery spotter jeeps pulled out of the garage and roared off down the road, followed by a platoon of self-propelled artillery vehicles.
The distant sounds of battle were already drifting across when he finally managed to drop into the commander's chair of his Type-10 tank, dogging the hatch closed as he fell. He kicked his driver in the back, and the armoured beast rolled out of the garage.
"Armoured Platoon Three, move to position Eight-Fourteen," came the order. Aida relayed it, letting his driver navigate the tank as he scanned the horizon. If the gunfire was already audible, then...
There!
Advancing inexorably towards the centre of the city was a torso-shaped floating thing.
An Angel.
Fire flowed towards it, sheets of bullets, shells and missiles like a single endless ocean. Aida could barely make out the target through the sheer weight of ordinance, but he could tell they weren't having any effect.
The tank rocked as they passed one of the city's massive defence guns, firing at full tilt. Aida followed the shells, each one the size of his tank, and they detonated right against the Angel's exposed core... to no effect. He blinked – surely they couldn't have done nothing? Even though the Angel hadn't even used its shield?
His driver brought the tank to a halt, and beside him the gunner began laying in the sights. Aida gave the command to open fire without hesitation, for all the good it would do. Slack-jawed, his gunner fired the first round.
"Why are we even out here, man?" the American asked.
"To slow it down," said Aida, grimly. The American nodded, and loosed another shell.
The torrent of munitions only increased as reinforcements joined the fight. A wing of Russian close-support aircraft let loose on the Angel, each plane throwing a pair of fuel-air bombs at the target. Again, the tank rocked – from kilometres away! - , and again the Angel didn't even notice the attack. The other Angels would have at least responded by now, but this one refused to even shoot back. One destroyer had even anchored beneath the Angel, firing upwards into its nether-regions. Nothing.
Thrusters alight, the jets and VTOLs scattered. That could only mean one thing, and it was about damn time.
"N2 MINE!" Aida screamed, slamming the NBC gear into operation. He watched long enough to see the missiles – ten! - slam into the Angel, then closed off his viewport and screwed his eyes shut. Even through the microscopic gap left in the viewport, light filled the tank as each warhead detonated simultaneously. A wave of sound vibrated the entire tank, and Aida would have sworn it lifted off the ground from the shockwave.
When Aida finally brought himself to look through the viewport again, the blast clouds had cleared. Even despite the prior showings, he still had faith that this attack might have at least burned it a little.
Nothing.
The Angel floated serenely in the centre of the city, completely unharmed.
Then came the counter-attack, finally.
Crosses of fire rose from the earth, spearing tanks, VTOLs, jets, defence turrets, artillery pieces, ships – everything. The screams overwhelmed Aida's headset, and he tore it off. It was only then that he realised he was still alive, and his tank was still intact.
"...sir?" he heard, vaguely. "Sir, what are we supposed to do now?"
Aida shook, trying to clear his head. "Anything from command?" he asked. "I had to throw my comms away."
"Nothing, sir. All the channels are dark."
"Shit on a leper's cock!" screamed his driver, slamming his fist into the side of the tank. The tank being made of armour, this did not leave a dent, but did leave a smear of blood. "That bastard son of a whore's distended anus is fucking with us!"
The gunner chuckled. "Christ, kiddo. Tone down the swearing a little, would ya?"
"Sorry, sergeant."
"What about NERV? The Evas?"
All Aida received for an answer was a shake of his gunner's head.
"Fuck."
"That about sums it up, don't it?"
Aida turned his attention back to the Angel. It was floating slightly off to the side now-
Light filled his vision again as it let off another cross-beam. When it cleared, the Angel was unfurling into strips. It was obvious where it was going.
"Driver, take us to the nearest vehicle lift. We need to get down to the Geo-Front," he ordered.
The driver turned, smiling. "Good idea, sir, that place is safe as Yamantau's deepest cesspit!"
"Not with an Angel there, it ain't," said the gunner. "What's the plan? We still in this?"
"No way, man!" objected the driver. "That thing didn't even notice ten fucking N2 mines! Fucking thing was more exposed than my mum after a couple of pints, and-"
"This isn't a discussion. We've got ammo, and there's still a target. Take us in."
Muttering, the driver bent to the task.
Aida retrieved his headset, and tuned it to the emergency channel. Scattered reports were coming in from other survivors – one VTOL, a pair of jets, an American Spooky gunship, a few more tanks and, best of all, a single MLRS vehicle... that was out of ammunition.
All this against an Angel.
Aida breathed, slowly.
"Where in the utter fucking hell are the Evangelions, anyway?" commented the driver.
The gunner kicked the back of his chair. "No clue, and watch your damned language!"
"They lost a pilot to the last Angel," Aida admitted. Kensuke had told him all about it, that the girl his son had gone to school with was apparently little more than a scientist's lab specimen. "The red one. Purple's in prison after that temper tantrum, and no-one knows what's going on with Orange." Then again, the last part was pretty much a constant – he'd met the girl when Kensuke had gone on that trip, and she'd been impossible to read.
"Brilliant as Jesus' polished anal cavity! Three Evangelions and no fucking pilots!"
Another kick from the gunner, offset by the lurch of the express vehicle elevator. "Don't take the lord's name in vain, you little shit!"
The driver rounded on his gunner – about as much as was possible in a tank, anyway. "We fight Angels, you yankee fuckstick! I think it's safe to say that God isn't exactly on our side!"
"I have had-"
Whatever the gunner had had enough off was left a mystery, as the elevator suddenly plunged into free-fall. The driver, unbuckled, slammed head-first into his hatch and fell limp. The driver followed suit, a scene which would have been comical in any other situation. Aida felt his buckles about to break-
and the elevator came to a halt. Slowly, he pulled himself up to the viewport. The tank had cleared the final armour plate, and come some way into the Geo-Front, but then the emergency brakes had kicked in.
The end result was one Type-10 tank trapped looking down at what might possibly be humanity's last stand. Already the red Evangelion lay dismembered in a pile of its own blood, and the Angel seemed to be alone and victorious. Aida let loose a few rounds from the remote machine gun fixed to the tank's roof, desperately clawing a few more seconds – anything to get another Evangelion out, especially the purple one...
A lift shaft opened, and out came the orange Evangelion, a missile cradled in its arms. It sprinted towards the Angel, igniting the booster and slamming into the enemy's shield. With a roar, the red Eva crawled towards the fight. Slowly but surely, sheet by sheet, the two mecha tore through the shield. Finally, Orange rammed the missile straight towards the red core.
Another blinding flash, another set of shaking. The elevator fell once more, jarred loose by the shockwave. It was a miracle they survived at all – in such close quarters, the rebounding blast wave would have vaporised it. The Angel must have absorbed most of the mine's energy.
Aida slowly woke up. Everything ached, especially his shoulders. The tank was a wreck – the entire left-side armour plate had come off, along with the track, and the turret wouldn't turn. Grabbing the rifle stashed for such an occurrence, and glancing at the bodies of his crew, Aida pulled himself out of the tank.
The Angel was still alive – of fucking course it was – only now it was... human. Grey-skinned legs allowed it to walk, and arms replaced the bandaged stubs. Most surprisingly, the core was now flanked by what looked remarkably like a pair of breasts. Aida didn't get time for a detailed inspection, however, as the Angel floated down underground-
and almost immediately came flying back out, lofted airborne by the purple Evangelion. Unit 01.
Finally.
One arm missing, Purple was still kicking the Angel's ass. The two landed, Unit 01 straddling the Angel. Blow after blow rained down onto its core as roars rang out from its speakers-
only to fall silent. Aida blinked – why did it stop, it was winning – and cried out as the Angel impaled humanity's last hope on a pair of spear arms and casually threw it away. He raised the rifle, emptying the clip, hoping against hope-
"I want Rei."
The sentence echoed across the battlefield, a low growl.
"GIVE HER BACK!"
Unit 01 stood up, agonisingly slowly, an orange glow spreading out from its arm stump. The Angel turned, firing off some sort of laser from its "eyes", only to see it splash uselessly against the purple Evangelion's AT Field. It speared its arms out again, flying after them in an attempt to push through the orange wall, and went flying for its troubles.
Aida looked up as the Angel fell towards him, and raised his rifle.
