Prologue

Nhkhotakota, Malawi; 6 August, 2006

Caesar Augustus was the first to log into the secured chat server after a few hours of work, but he didn't have to wait long. Mark Antony came online a few minutes later, and after him, so did Marcus Lepidas. Everything in place? Augustus typed before standing. With hurried yet precise movements, he moved through the room, disposing of everything that he could. Most went into a 55-gallon drum, along with some oil and a lit match. Pictures, newspaper clippings, everything that he could possibly find. Donation envelopes with addresses to long disbanded countries littered the counter, and he scooped them all up with numbness. A magazine got thrown in next, the bright faces of world leaders plastered over with 'The New World: Addressing Second Impact, Climate Change, Food Security, and Mass Migration'. He remembered despising the article.

Only two things were kept out: a picture of himself and a young girl, and a headline, dated October 2nd, 2001. "The Destruction in the Antarctic, and the Heroes Who Came Back". He looked over them briefly before moving to the kitchen counter, and looking over a bottle he had put together. The mixture looked ready.

By the time he came back to the computer, Lepidas had responded. The Maiden will have little security in three days time. I've secured access through the Crone. Antony will retrieve the Maiden after that.

Travel plans are ready on my end, came the message from Antony. I will be on the mainland shore within 4 hours of this operation.

Good. Augustus wrote, and then paused. Deliberated on how to continue. Pressure will be taken off of you. They'll be looking in the wrong place.

How? Lepidas asked. Always a little terse. Augustus let out a slight grin at that. Tutoring her—hell, tutoring them both had always been an interesting experience. One that he certainly couldn't bring himself to regret. Even if he did it over such long distances.

I've leaked my location, Augustus answered. I expect I have at least five hours—the perks of working from Malawi, I think. Kind of hard to get to since Second Impact. He held his breath after that.

Thankfully, the both of them were professionals. Antony was the first to reply. That'll certainly keep them occupied. At least if you've been half as much a dick as I think you've been.

I see, was all that Lepidas wrote.

If there's nothing else we have to say to one another, we may wish to end this discussion. I still have a few things yet to destroy. He glanced over at a collection of computer tapes that he had been meaning to throw into the fire and had forgotten about. He did that now, and checked the fire. Still burning well enough.

Well, I'll be off, Antony had written in the interim, and if one of those giants steps on me, then don't go back for me. I don't want the humiliation. He had subsequently logged off.

He never learned who you were, did he? Lepidas asked not long after Antony disconnected.

If he had learned, then he would have told her. Augustus looked over at the photo of his daughter, taken so many years ago. His heart cursed and thrashed, but the prison that was his ribs remained steadfast. I couldn't have that, he added swiftly. I don't think that would be the best for any of us.

Alright. I want you to know, it has been wonderful working with you, doctor.

And you as well, doctor.

They both disconnected, and Augustus wiped his computer's hard drive clean several times over before tossing it into the bin. More documents: technical research, lab results, and his own inane scribblings, years of mistaken ambition and years of desperate atonement, were all throw together. He combed the place again and again, ensuring that he had managed to find everything, every trace of who he was that he still had. Finally, he took those two items. He tossed the headline in easily, but he couldn't bring himself to throw the photo in. Instead he stared at him, hoping that it could take him back in time. The two of them, standing on the prow of the icebreaker. That life is gone, he reminded himself, and threw it in as well. This time, he applied the oil more liberally. The flames burned away everything. Everything left that had made Caesar Augustus, and before that, everything that had made Dr. Katsuragi.

He took his seat, moving the metal folding chair to watch the doorway. The sound of the flames dying out filled the room, and made him wince. The thought of fleeing came into his mind once or twice, but he ignored it. There was time once for fleeing, before he had finished his work. Back when the wounds of Second Impact were still raw and bleeding, when the Maldives and Bangladesh and Japan had been left reeling. Back when widespread crop destruction had resulted in famine, and everywhere he went, he saw devastation. He had done his best to help where he could, watching as the Second Green Revolution took effect across the world. And now, there was only one task left for him before he could rest. Satisfied, he drew a rosary, bringing the thick, metal cross between his fingers, and began to pray. He had never been religious before Antarctica, wearing a simple cross but not thinking of it. Now; however, he prayed rosary after rosary.

Eventually, he heard the door to the cellar open. The footsteps were heavy as the sounded against the concrete. "You took up a peaceful life," they commented. Katsuragi tilted his head. Their voice was thick, decidedly German. If he hadn't been expecting them, Katsuragi would have been scared. Inevitability; however, was a powerful dulling agent. "Pointless, in the end, but admirable. There is but one way to achieve peace."

A man walked into view, a heavyset man in a suit, the black of the suit contrasting their pasty skin. There was a pistol in his hand. A P30, if Katsuragi remembered correctly. Dr. Katsuragi felt a brief tremor of fear, but quelled it. "I've found that way," Dr. Katsuragi declared, holding up his rosary as he spoke. "Would you pray with me?"

"Where have you reached?" The man reached out to a folding chair propped against the wall, letting it scrape against the floor.

"The Annunciation."

"Ah, right. Fitting, the declaration of new life, the creation of a new being, a better being. As we will all become."

"I see you're the fanatic type," Katsuragi said, letting out a slight laugh. "But yes, that is where I am, though. But in truth, I've been thinking more about things a little later in the book. Matthew, that is."

"Oh?" the man asked. The gun came moving around in a lazy wave of his arm. "What are you talking about?"

"The hybrids," Dr. Katsuragi answered. Across from him, the man started, standing and pointing the gun at him. "You and SEELE . . . Ikari and NERV. I've spent the years putting together a network to find me these things, and oh did they find things. You won't be able to find them—I've been preparing for this moment far too well for that."

"This moment?" At this, the agent laughed, and moved to put away his chair. "You've lost, doctor. The more stable the world is, the easier it is for SEELE to put together our pieces. The more damage the world suffers, the easier it is for the world to trust SEELE. There is no way in which this ends well for you. The masses are too fractured to stop us, even if they knew we existed."

Katsuragi sighed and stood. "The book of Matthew," he said. "That's how I win. The child escapes to Egypt. And Herod loses."

"If you think that will work." Dr. Katsuragi gave one last look around the room that had become his home. The fortress that he had hidden himself in, plucking out interactions only to subvert SEELE and NERV, only to progress his work. I could have sent Misato messages, he realized. Then the man fired, and Dr. Katsuragi crumpled to the ground.