It was late one night that Ayanami Rei realized that there was indeed a God. She sat atop her bed, staring out the window into the dark, clear night. The moon seemed so large; so close to the earth that it could very well be touched if Ayanami felt the urge to merely open the window and reach. For the moment though, she was satisfied to sit and watch the night progress.
It had been a long night; twilight had given in to complete night five hours ago, and Ayanami had watched the moon take its familiar journey across the sky. She had always found some fascination with the moon, almost like she could somehow relate to its role in the night sky. And if she was to be likened to the moon, that must make the Second Child the sun, correct?
Asuka Langley Sohryu was an ambitious, energetic, intense, almost caustic young woman. There was always the risk of being burned upon approach, but the temptation was always there to at least look, and dream of flying to her…
Ayanami Rei was indeed the Moon to Asuka's Sun: Ayanami always simply waited her turn in the background, doing her job when necessary. She had an appeal about her, but never truly shined as the sun always had.
As she sat at her window, a plane crawled lazily through the night sky, and it caught Ayanami's thitherto jaded attention. There was something about this aircraft that spoke to Rei… She watched it pass ever so slowly, and suddenly words began to form from her mouth without warning.
"Here I sit, wondering as to the significance of my own life in the face of all life through the window. I think my own life so complex and meaningful, and that I must matter something great to myself and everybody else around me. And perhaps I do, but I now see that it's nothing compared to the interaction of all the life surrounding my own. I think my life is important, but so does every single person on that flight up there. There must be over a hundred and fifty people on board, each with their own story, their own problems, their own choices, their own secrets, their own regrets, their own memories. The earth really is just the networking of our individual consciousnesses alongside each other, isn't it? And what keeps this all together? Surely there must be someone, or at the least something, that keeps this in order…"
Ayanami clasped her hands over her mouth in surprise, corking the stream of consciousness that sprang from her usually silent lips. Her crimson eyes remained wide with astonishment as the words continued in her thoughts, still racing almost faster than she could process them.
'And if there is something keeping this all working; a God, perhaps, then why do I do what I do? Why should I go out to kill the Angels, the messengers of God? We were punished by second impact for our sins, because we overstepped our limits as His creations. The Angels came to end our lives as we know them because we thought ourselves to be creators also. Our pride is leaving us under constant siege by something that should be our protector! I won't stand against His will! I won't be caught up in the society that scoffs at His name!'
And so she made up her mind; she would stop piloting Evangelion and working for NERV forever. She packed a few provisions from her apartment into her school bag, and left in silence. Walking through town so late, she passed many drunks stumbling out of closing bars, who looked her up and down without reservation. It only disgusted her further with the society she once called home. She eventually left the city limits, and carried on into a far green pasture, where she finally stopped to rest.
The night was beginning again; the Moon presided solemnly over the electric skyline of Tokyo-3, whose high-rise complexes were in full extension from their protective boroughs. Ayanami slowly drifted out of a light sleep, and dreamily retook her feet. Dreamily, or perhaps faintly; it had been over a week since she set out to leave Tokyo-3 forever. Her provisions had run out sooner than expected, and her clothes had been reduced to rags by the environment. She had kept the cit yin sight, though; she was waiting for something amazing to happen. Every night that week, as she looked down the mountainside on Tokyo-3, she would fall to her knees, clasp her hands, and pray earnestly. She was yet to receive any response, but her faith in God far outweighed her faith in society, so she continued her rite every night.
On the seventh night of Ayanami's rite, she prayed the same prayer she did every night:
"God, may your vengeance purify the hostile country, as their sentry and soldier is now in your employ."
This time however, she prayed this prayer seven times. She was sure that praying it seven times on the seventh night would be significant enough to warrant a response, but still nothing came. The city remained completely intact below, and the night remained on course. Finally, after waiting nearly an hour for any response, Ayanami stood upright once more, looked up to the heavens, and shouted a long mournful cry:
"Please!"
Her cry, which sounded strange and foreign as it echoed again and again down the mountainside, drifted away into the night, and Ayanami was sure that she had once again gone unnoticed. Tears welled in her eyes, tears that broke their cohesion and trickled down in quick rivulets of misery and resignation as she watched the non-results of her devotion.
She began to think again of her faith: perhaps there really wasn't a supreme being as she had thought; perhaps the Angels were actually monsters that needed destroying; perhaps they would still accept her back as an Eva pilot…
But just as she was about renounce her faith in full view of the world, a faint whistling caught her attention. She looked up to the origin of the sound, and saw a strange sight: A thin beam of pale blue light shot down from high altitude to contact the ground in the center of Tokyo-3. The beam flickered off, and an orb of light appeared around the city. The orb seemed to swell and retract, quivering with energy. Ayanami looked on, tears of joy now coursing over her smiling face as she realized that her prayers were about to be answered. The orb suddenly retracted itself into a miniscule yet intense point in the center of the city, and a vast explosion rocketed through the entire metropolis. The blast rushed upwards into the night, forming a gargantuan blue cross in the night sky that radiated outward in all three open points into flickering flames of pure white heat.
Satisfied with the result of her selfless devotion, Ayanami put out her hand towards the city, bringing the attention of the heavens to the earth upon which she stood†, and spoke softly as the rumble of the Wrath of God quaked over her.
"Credo in Unum Deum.‡"
She signed the cross as it appeared before her, turned, and left.
Notes
†: "…bringing the attention of the heavens to the earth upon which she stood…" : This references a common hand position found in Christian (especially Catholic) rites in which (most commonly) the priest will extend his hand, and point his index and middle finger joined towards the sky, and his ring and little finger towards the ground. This symbolizes a link between heaven and earth, and is a sign for the intercession of the holy in our world.
‡: "Credo in Unum Deum": A Latin phrase meaning "(I) Believe in One God," the first line of the Nicene Creed