NEON GENESIS EVANGELION:
EVOLUTION REBORN
An Alternate Universe Evangelion Story
By Sentinel 28A
AUTHOR'S NOTE: A little background here.
Nearly a decade ago (holy crap!) a friend of mine introduced me to Neon Genesis Evangelion. It quickly became my favorite anime series, though today it has to vie for space with Inu-Yasha. Inu-Yasha and Spice and Wolf. Inu-Yasha, Spice and Wolf, and Highschool of the Dead. And…
Er, anyway…
As is usual when I really get into a new series, I begin to think of adventures "between the pages," which is the kind of fanfic most writers like to do. But one of the other fun things about fanficcing is asking "what if?"
A lot of Evafics have tried to answer this question—some good, some bad, some very bad. I tried my hand at it: Neon Genesis Evangelion Evolution, which introduced Riana Arashikaze, the American pilot, raised in a convent, possessing unawakened magical powers, etc. I wrote about 100 pages on it before I sort of lost interest; Riana had the misfortune of really starting to come alive as a character about the time I began rewriting my old Battletech stories and…she sort of got forgotten. Not helping matters were two bad reviews I got calling her a Mary Sue and a more constructive critic, who said he liked the story but thought I was doing too much at once. Not only was Riana an unawakened mage, Evolution took place in White Wolf Game Studio's "World of Darkness," and there were vampires and SEELE plotting against each other, with some werewolves, ghosts and kuei-jin thrown in…
That critique was a good one, and it stuck with me. I stopped writing, walked away, then just deleted the whole story (though Riana does make a brief appearance in "Misato's Revenge," which is pretty popular).
But a few weeks ago, I thought, "You know, most of the reviewers liked the story. Maybe with a few changes, it might still be worth telling." I've been rereading the Evangelion manga (both the Sadamoto retelling and the awesome and hilarious Shinji Ikari Raising Project), and I thought, "Why not?" Besides, it's been awhile since I really sat down and tried to write another long fanfic—and I really enjoyed writing those, back when the buffalo ruled the plains…
So we'll see where this goes. Maybe it'll become another "Snowbird Saga" (in which case, expect the Third Impact chapter in 2020!) or maybe it'll wither and die long before then. But I owe it to Riana Arashikaze to give her story one more try. I hope you like where it goes…even if you think she's a total Mary Sue.
And a special big thanks to everyone who reads my scribblings and reviews (hint hint), and to Hideaki Anno and GAINAX for creating such a depressingly fun universe to play in.
Keel Lorenz ran his fingers across the MicroPad, wishing he could risk printing out its contents. Lorenz was old-fashioned and preferred the feel of real paper on his fingers. Yet he knew he could not take that risk. What was contained on the pad was known to less than fifteen people in the entire world—and twelve of those men were sitting in the room with him.
Lorenz did not like the other members of SEELE. These men fancied themselves an Illuminati, a shadowy cabal who controlled the world from the shadows. The United Nations ruled the Earth of post-Second Impact, a rather quieter, less populated world to be sure, but power was power. No surviving government was left to dispute that fact. The UN did what SEELE quietly asked it to do. Lorenz had no such illusions. These old men craved power. Keel Lorenz craved oblivion, for no human being was older than him.
And the secret to power and oblivion rested in the Human Instrumentality Project.
"Chairman Lorenz?"
Lorenz looked up abruptly. An old man, daydreaming. "Yes?"
His gaze was returned by a hook-nosed man. "What shall we do about Ikari's budget request?"
Lorenz set aside the pad and brought up the figures on the holographic screen in front of him. Yes, another increase in budget. More billions of dollars to add to those already poured into the Evangelion Project. One could not argue with Ikari's results, even if the UN would need yet more billions on top of the Project E funding for disaster relief. The Angels were destroying Japan one kilometer N2 mine at a time. Casualties were in the thousands in the JSSDF alone. None of that mattered to Keel Lorenz or the men who sat in shadow around the table. Or for that matter, to the head of Project E, Gendo Ikari. Lorenz's lip curled upwards in an involuntary sneer. Ikari. The one man who could derail the Human Instrumentality Project, the one man Lorenz was not sure he could control.
Still, Ikari's Evangelions were the only thing standing between the Angels and their goal. He made a quick swipe at the keyboard. "Approve it."
The hook-nosed man swallowed audibly. "Chairman, there is only so much money in the world."
Another man, with a ridiculously large handlebar mustache and a stomach that threatened to burst his shirt buttons, spoke up. "Already some nations are protesting that they're being asked to give too much. The Americans are worried about hyperinflation—"
"What does that matter? When Instrumentality is achieved, will money truly matter?"
The fat man considered that. "Of course, Chairman. You're entirely correct." Lorenz stifled a sigh. Sometimes one needed to remind these men of what they were trying to achieve.
"And Ikari?" This from a blond-haired, square jawed man, the youngest of the thirteen.
Lorenz thought about Gendo Ikari. There was always the temptation to simply have Ikari eliminated. It would not be difficult. Nor would it affect Project E overmuch. From what Lorenz knew—and he knew everything of what happened underneath Tokyo-3—Gendo was not popular. Even his son hated him. Command would be turned over to the older, more pliant Fuyutsuki. The Evas would stop the Angels, and Instrumentality would continue. One word, and Gendo Ikari would die.
Yet Lorenz, again, did not give that word. Only Gendo Ikari knew exactly how the Evangelions worked. He made sure of that. If Ikari was killed and the Evas somehow stopped working, then the Angels would achieve victory and all of SEELE's plans would die with humanity itself. Ikari also knew where the bodies were buried, both figuratively and literally, and might be more dangerous dead than alive, where he could be used as a catspaw. Dead, Gendo Ikari might be able to bring down SEELE along with NERV and everything with it in an act of awesome revenge.
Lorenz wondered if that was Ikari's intention.
"We do nothing about Ikari," Lorenz said at length. "He knows how far his leash can go. There is nothing he can do to us—"
At that moment the door exploded.
The shockwave hit Lorenz a microsecond before the sound assaulted his ears. He was slammed back into his chair, but his reaction was one of surprise rather than fear. Five of the thirteen were blown out of their chairs; others fell out of them out of shock. The explosion was not the shock: it was that someone had found them.
That someone had dared assault them.
Ikari, Lorenz thought, but no, the person coming through the door was not Gendo Ikari. He was a scientist; as far as Lorenz knew, Ikari did not even know how to use a gun. To find their way to SEELE, one had to first find them, then penetrate through layers of security who did not even know what they guarded.
Lorenz's cybernetically-enhanced eyesight saw through the smoke before the others did. It was as much of a shock as the door being blown off its hinges. "You!" he said.
The figure that walked through the door did not acknowledge him. Instead, it dropped the smoking tube of a rocket launcher on the floor. Lorenz could see that she—despite the flak jacket and camouflage, the figure was undeniably female—slightly dragged her left foot, the leg soaked in blood. Her arms were fully operable, however: she drew a pistol from her vest. Without hesitation, she shot the two men closest to the door. Stepping over their bodies, she reached another, a man with mutton chops. He had taken a fragment of the door to his head, and blood poured from his caved-in face. The woman shot him nonetheless.
She shot all of them. The hook-nosed man screamed for mercy; she hauled him to his knees, put the gun to the back of his head, and killed him. The fat man put up his hands defensively, shouting that she would never get away with this; she thrust the pistol between his hands and killed him as well. The blond man sighed and asked the woman to shoot him between the eyes and make it quick. She obliged him.
And then they were alone.
"It's you," he repeated.
"Yes," was the only answer he got back.
"Why?" He motioned around him.
"I don't know what you are doing here, Lorenz…or whatever name you're using now. But it has always been the same with you."
"Just as it has always been the same with you, my dear. What name are you using these days?"
"I don't think that matters right now, does it?"
"No, I suppose not." Lorenz briefly considered telling the woman about Instrumentality. Would she agree? She would be a powerful ally; moreso even than the now dead men around him. Surely she must be as tired as he. Either way, he would win. "Do we have time to talk, my dear? We have guards—"
"You had guards," she corrected.
"Ah. You always were thorough. I do remember that town…what was it again?"
"If you're stalling, Lorenz, don't bother. No help is coming."
"I did not think so." Lorenz leaned back as much as he could, staring at the ceiling. "We are the human race, dearest one. Born from the black moon. The false successors. We are foolish human beings, capable of resentment and hurting one another…unable as ever to understand each other." He regarded the woman. "As you only know too well."
"Shut up."
Lorenz ignored her. "As false successors, our future is now in deadlock. We have but one hope left to us: to be reborn as true successors, and as children of God." He slid the pad towards her. "This is Instrumentality."
She glanced down at the pad, pointed the pistol downwards and shot it. Fragments spalled around the room; it sparked and died.
"That was your last shot."
"I know." She reached behind her and pulled out a broadsword. It hissed as it came free of the scabbard; not the sching of a movie sword, but a long, drawn-out serpentine noise of steel on leather. "Bullets can't kill you, Keel Lorenz. Explosives can't either. I tried, as you remember." His back involuntarily spasmed as he remembered. What was left of his actual back. "I thought I would try steel."
"You have tried that as well."
"Not this steel, I haven't." She held it up to the light, ran her fingers down the fleur-de-lis imprinted on the blade. "The sword of a saint. It took me awhile to find it, but I think it'll do the job." She smiled at him. "It's what you always wanted, isn't it?"
His heart leapt. Then he remembered. "I am cursed," he said sadly.
"So am I."
"You cannot free me from this curse."
"Only one way to find out."
Lorenz leaned forward and opened his collar. He smiled up at her. She did not know that Instrumentality would continue, even without him. There were others, others more powerful than himself, than even this woman before him. She might could change the act, perhaps the cast, but the ending would not, could not be rewritten. "Answer me one thing. You owe me that much. Why?"
"All right." She walked around him, and he felt the cold steel against his neck, even through the metal of his backbone. "Because I think that humanity's future has not yet been written, and that neither you or I have the right to write it for them. They aren't the false successors. We are."
"You are wrong. Where I go, you cannot follow," he quoted.
"Where you go, I've already been."
His smile broadened. "Then strike true."
She did, and Keel Lorenz was finally free.
The moment Gendo Ikari opened the door to his office, he knew something was wrong.
The door slid shut behind him, and he looked across the office to his desk. It was dark, very dark, with the only real light coming from the symbols etched into the floor and the ceiling. The light was hellish and red. He did not look at the symbols; he knew them by heart. It was the other person in the room, sitting behind his desk, hidden by the darkness.
"Don't call for your guards," the figure said. It was a female voice, which spoke in fluid Japanese. "I've already killed a lot of people this week, and I'd rather not add to the total."
Ikari walked forward, unafraid. If the person was here to talk, that was fine. He was convinced he was right, and nothing would sway that conviction. If the person was here to kill him, it meant he would see Yui that much sooner, which was also fine. "It would be nice if I had the pleasure of your name."
His desk lamp snapped on. "My name is Rissa Arashikaze."
Ikari nodded. "I have heard of you. You work for the United Nations. It explains how you got in here." He stopped and put his hands behind his back. "There was no need for melodrama. You merely needed to request a meeting."
"No need for melodrama?" She snorted. "Coming from a man whose office is lined with mystical symbology and God knows what else? Who commands a project with Biblical overtones? Who has never been seen without a black suit, red shirt, and white gloves? Melodrama is your stock in trade, Gendo Ikari. It's how you get your way, spending more money than the entire history of the human race on these machines." She shrugged. "I admit it does get the job done." Arashikaze reached down, behind the desk, out of sight. Then she threw a metal spine on the desk. Ikari suppressed a start at the sight. He knew instantly what it was.
"You recognize it?" Arashikaze more demanded than asked.
"I do. It is Keel Lorenz's cybernetic spine." Ikari noticed the blood and bits of flesh that were still stuck to it.
"Keel Lorenz is dead, Ikari. I killed him. Then I tore out his goddamn backbone." Arashikaze stood. "Lorenz and his little coven…SEELE, is that what they were called? I assume you know." Ikari nodded. "They're all dead. I killed every one of them."
Ikari shrugged. "They mean nothing to me."
"That's good, because I brought this here as a warning." Arashikaze came around the desk. "I don't know what you and SEELE were planning, Ikari, but it is over. You and NERV have done a good job in protecting this planet from…whatever the hell those things are. That's why you're still alive."
Ikari met her gaze calmly. He towered over her; Arashikaze was rather short. "I suppose I should thank you, then."
"You're welcome."
"And I suppose there is a price."
Arashikaze blinked in surprise. "Rather perceptive of you."
Ikari half-smiled. "There is always a price. I imagine I shall have to pay it, in return for my life."
"My granddaughter, Riana. She's interested in the Evangelion program. She wrote a letter and passed the initial exams. I know those exams are a sham—NERV hasn't accepted anyone but the three pilots you have, and one of those is your son. Riana doesn't know that, however. She wants to be a pilot, God alone knows why. I want you to expedite it."
Ikari bit back a laugh. "It's not as simple as that."
"Of course not. If she fails, fine, but she deserves at least a chance."
"How old is she?"
"Fourteen. She'll be fifteen in a few months."
Ikari nodded again. "I can make no guarantees."
"I don't expect you to. Give her a chance. That's all I ask."
"Why?" Arashikaze glared at him, but Ikari did not flinch. "Why does she want to pilot?"
Arashikaze hesitated a moment, then told him. "Riana has this strange thing called 'idealism.' She wants to serve. Her family has, and she wants to continue on with the tradition. I'm against it, but I figured that it would be better to contact you directly rather than have her do something stupid like run away to Japan. She's rather thickheaded in that fashion, which she clearly gets from me. In any case, it is a genuine desire to help others. I'm sure you've felt that, at least once."
"As have you."
Arashikaze smiled, though there was little humor in it. "Once upon a time. Do we have a deal?"
"I find it hard to believe that you murdered several men just to help your daughter's whims."
This time there was humor in the smile. "No, that was personal. And a long time in coming. This is just icing on the cake, as it were. I have you in my debt, Gendo Ikari, so I might as well collect."
"And if she fails…"
"I won't kill you if she fails."
"And if she dies in the line of duty?"
Arashikaze's expression went somber. "Then she'll join a long list of her ancestors who have died for this cause or another. If she dies fighting, then I won't hold it against you, but I will investigate. If I find you had something to do with it, your death will neither be quick nor easy." She poked him in the chest, which was not terribly intimidating, since she had to reach up to do it. "I can't be killed, Ikari. You can. Remember that." Ikari said nothing in response, so she moved past him. "I'll be taking my leave. I'll let myself out. I expect to hear something in the near future regarding my granddaughter. I'll leave it to you to dispose of Lorenz's parts, or frame them, or whatever."
Ikari walked behind his desk. "There was a rumor, Miss Arashikaze, that Lorenz could not be killed either."
Arashikaze stopped at the door. "It seems they were wrong."
"You shall have my answer within 48 hours."
"Good." She turned to look back at him, and to his surprise, her voice was soft, and cracked. "She's a good girl, my daughter. Please…" She broke off the sentence, opened the door, and left.
Ikari sat down. He opened a drawer in his desk. The pistol was still there. He shut it, steepled his hands, and regarded Lorenz's spine.
And then Gendo Ikari began to laugh.