Dateline: 1400 hours, 13.10.2017
Location: NERV Headquarters, GeoFront, Tokyo-3
No poet who ever chronicled the fall of an empire truly captured the feeling a king has upon returning to the grave of his shattered throne. NERV, once the only organization in the world with the hardware capable of stopping the eldritch abominations known as the Angels, lay now in shambles, more than a year after Third Impact and the failed Instrumentality−the dream of old men, old fools, and one especially spectacular fool scrambling after his departed wife at the expense of both his son's mental health, as well as the love and regard of the very woman he gave everything to bring back to him−and in that moment, as I rode the familiar elevator down to the familiar office that now mocked me with the enormity of my failure, my vision for the first time in far too long not tinted orange by reflective lenses, I felt as if I had only just begun to truly realize exactly how foolish I had really been.
So this is to be the legacy of Gendo Ikari, then? I thought. A mighty agency in shambles, a family lost and destroyed utterly and forever, the world in such a state of chaos that the fever-dreams of doddering old men are made into weapons by ungrateful, recalcitrant human beings so that they can be worse than before the catastrophe that was supposed to teach them the value of their own lives at the expense of my son's sanity? The saga of a man who barged into events beyond his understanding, heedless of Nietzsche's warnings, and reaped the same rewards? It would only be proper, I suppose; my life heretofore had been nothing but a comedy of errors, a mockery of everything I hoped for and lived for, a metaphysical game of cat-and-mouse. All around were the sounds of workmen running back and forth, shouting at each other in familiar Japanese, that same language that had become ashen upon my tongue when I tried to speak it of late; for how can that language not be butchered coming from my mouth, whilst every venom-laced word I said to my son that poisoned his mind was said in that language, by that mouth? But still, I retained my post as commander of NERV, for my crimes were beyond count, and there was one I have wronged above all others, and I would see him at peace before I would seek my own; it is, after all, the duty of the penitent thief to restore that which was taken unto his victims, and there was truly no one from whom I had taken more than my brilliant son, who saw in his insanity that which I did not see−that which was hidden even to the seemingly-omniscient old men of SEELE. A year after the fact, his horrible shriek still haunts my nightmares, haunts me with every undeserving breath I take.
Still as a statue, I breathed a sigh of relief as the accursed elevator finally arrived on the floor that held the shattered throne, the nerve center of my betrayal of the only woman I ever loved…the bastion of my accursed hubris. I hated the room; every crevice, every infinitesimal corner of it was a constant reminder of the absolute imbecile I had been, and in every shadow there lurked the ghostly visage of every person whose life I had personally destroyed−Rei, Nayoko, Ritsuko, Colonel Katsuragi, Mr. Suzuhara, Agent Ryōji, Ms. Langley Sōryu…and, most importantly, through her, I destroyed Shinji and embraced everything that Yui had hated about me–and all of them stood in silent, righteous judgement of me. But still, I went there every day and endured their silent glares; for if I was truly sincere in my desire to set right that which I put wrong, then I would have to do it from the one place that gave me that power. The place from which I had done that for which I was attempting to repent, if indeed there is any repentance to be had for one whose actions had proved so loathsome that not even the woman who had been able to see past almost any fault could bear to look upon me with anything but revulsion and disgust…
There was something wrong; I felt it the moment I absently strolled into my old office. For there, turned half-ways away from the door, standing behind my high-backed chair from which I had wrought so much pain and sorrow, was a frighteningly familiar figure. "R…Ritsuko?" I managed.
The silhouetted figure stiffened, and after a moment, a decidedly masculine chuckle was my reply. "Oh, come now, Commander Ikari; I do not appear so feminine as to make you mistake me for the ghost of your lover-turned-accomplice, do I? Or was it more properly the other way around, hmm?" And in truth, upon further observation, I knew that I had seen incorrectly; the man cut an exceptionally tall figure–two meters, by my estimate–but was so uncommonly thin for one of that height as to appear almost effeminate, though his voice betrayed otherwise. From what I could see, he was dressed from head to toe in black, long hair of the same color cascading down to his shoulders messily; and in his idle hand he held languidly a single cigarette, an ember burning with an orange glow at its tip, the smoke distorting the light coming in from the window that backlit him. He turned to me–the sound of which being a dead giveaway that he wore boots–and in the darkness I could see his face better. He wore glasses, though half-rimmed with wire in opposition to my own, with skin so pale as to appear almost unhealthy, with a youthful but experienced countenance upon which were written a thousand thousand woes; which was strange, for, if asked, I could not in good conscience say that I thought him a day over sixteen–making him the same age as Shinji.
"Well?" he prompted in perfect, musical, slightly ethereal Japanese (this in spite of the bass tone of his voice). "Are we going to deal together, Commander, or is it your understanding that I should talk whilst you stand there gaping like a drowned fish? It was the girl, Maya, by the way…in case you're wondering how I got into your office."
"What could you and I have to deal about?" I managed at last. "Or are you simply a messenger, a minion sent to tell us that the old men are still alive and kicking?"
"Those old fools? No, I am fortunate in that I may honestly say I am not, nor have I ever been, one of their number, Ikari (though I gather you cannot claim such favors of Lady Fortune, can you, Commander?). As for what we might deal in, how about a game of knucklebones for that decaying albatross 'round your neck? I mean, even you must agree that it is beginning to become most putrid," replied the mysterious intruder. "You ask what I might deal in with you? Well, that most sanguine of humours that is, as legend says, thicker than water is what I offer. But I see that supremely confused expression on your face now; allow me to elaborate." He paused to take a long, hard draw of that cigarette before continuing, and once more the odor of tobacco-smoke filled the circular room that I knew so well. "Something is coming, Ikari; something that no one here is equipped to deal with. You know as well as I that excluding Japan, the world has begun to wage war on a level never before seen…made possible, of course, by your little middle-school science project, Codename: Evangelion. We also know the 'old men', as you so aptly name them, relied upon the knowledge given unto them by the Dead Sea Scrolls, which chronicled the lore of the First Impact. What you don't know, however, is that they never searched for what lay beyond that; for, as what little accurate philosophy humankind has produced, where there are Angels, there must also be Dæmons. That is what is coming, Ikari; something that not even the nigh-on mythical 'progenitor' race knew of. Something that neither Lilith nor ADAM, nor any of their progeny, was able to uncover…until Second Impact. When Adam awoke, he perceived of the Others; and through him, your wife, Yui. Though, I doubt her conscious mind was ever made aware of that fact."
"And what does any of this have to do with my blood?" I asked, finding myself believing this person against every iota of better judgement I had in my body; But look at where that so-called 'better' judgement has gotten me. It can go take a long walk off a short cliff at this point, for all I care.
"Everything," he spat. Producing a manila envelope seemingly out of nowhere, he tossed it onto the desk in such a way that it sped right to me. "What you'll find in that folder, Ikari, is what you need to know…specifically, the reason why that hand there," said he, indicating my missing hand with an underhanded gesture of the one that held his cigarette, still burning, "didn't grow back. Short answer? It didn't belong to you. Go on! Look!"
I kept my eyes trained on him taking another draw off the cigarette suspiciously as I picked up that manila envelope and opened it to peer at its contents, sitting down as I did; for that precaution, I was immeasurably grateful about three seconds later. "Wha…" I attempted, swallowing hard to allow myself to speak through a throat that had very suddenly become very dry indeed. "What is this?"
"The findings of your precious little Marduk Institute–your ploy, the little secret that got the Ryōji boy that Misato was so fond of killed. I trust that you learned how to read a psychograph, Gendo? If so, then I really don't need to explain what it says, do I?"
Fear clutched its icy grip tightly around my heart in the space of an instant. "What…but I've been trying to find him for a year! I've had every resource at my disposal at the task, with not a whit of success! Do you understand? He doesn't want to be found!"
"Well, well, well," he mocked with a bitterly sarcastic, mirthless amusement in his tone. "Since when has the great Gendo Ikari ever cared one scintilla as to what his progeny wanted?"
"Don't mock me!"
"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied quickly, taking another draw. "This is neither the time nor the place for that. Look, Ikari, no offense, but I did not come here to bandy words with you. I'll give it to you straight: I have the ability to reclaim Unit-01 and the technology to upgrade her, but given the stresses of Third Impact, I do not think I will be able to get her combat-ready in time. However, what I can do is a) locate your son, and b) develop an upgraded series of Evangelions that will allow him and his compatriots to combat the emerging threat. So here's what I need you to do: give me the clearance, facilities and manpower I need, and I'll get you your son; perhaps I'll even be able to ensure that he survives saving the world again. I will not do this without your total and complete cooperation, Gendo Ikari; I cannot do it alone."
I took a picosecond to consider what he offered before making my decision: "What would you have me do?"
Even in the darkness, somehow I could see clearly his wide grin, though like a trick of the eye it was there and gone within the instant. "Glad to have you aboard, Ikari; but your primary task right now is to locate the Second Child."
I peered at him, cocking my head in confusion. "Why is that a task? The Second Child is in Germany; she has been for eight months…"
"Five…four…three…two…one…"
The door to my office slid open with a crash. "Sir!" cried Colonel Katsuragi, hair askew, an exceptionally worried look projecting her distress to all who could see. "I just got a communiqué from NERV Germany; A…the Second Child has gone missing."
"Right on cue," remarked the man, accentuating the point with a flourish of his cigarette. "Excellent timing as always, Colonel. Well, Gendo-kun, I'd say you have your work cut out for you." He made as if to leave, taking one last draw on that cigarette, flicking it out of the door and down to the lake of the GeoFront, walking to the threshold before turning back as if some moment of eureka had dawned upon him. "Oh, yes; and before I forget again…" He ducked his head out onto the walkway, which had once been a corridor, and called: "REI!"
"Yes, Ryū-dono?" responded a very familiar monotone. Shortly thereafter, there appeared in the threshold of my office a figure I thought that I would never see again; a sentiment that I regarded with both the utmost sadness and the utmost relief. Standing in that space, blue hair, red eyes and all, though showing the signs of growth associated with the hormonally-induced maturation that normal teenage girls underwent, was none other than the First Child herself: my daughter, Rei Ayanami.
"Commander Ikari, I bring the First Child−your daughter−back to you so that you can make amends and so that when I bring Shinji back, he has some indication, however minute, that things have changed," he said, addressing me and placing his hand, which in the light was revealed to be fine, elegant, long-fingered and tapered, but still bearing that nearly-unearthly pallor that came close to exceeding Rei's lack of epidermal pigmentation, upon her shoulder in an unmistakably fraternal gesture. "And besides, I believe that the girl would enjoy seeing her older brother again; don't you think so too, Gendo?" I could not respond, dumbstruck as I was with astonishment, and he knew it. "You have your marching orders. Pray to whatever you hold dear that I do not make the determination that you were a waste of my time, Ikari. I have given you this chance to redeem yourself; I pray you do not squander it." With that, the boy−for as he stepped into the light, I saw much more clearly the gentle lines that marked his adolescence as clearly as the harsh ones that marked experience far beyond his years, though that discontinuity caught my attention not nearly as much as his strange golden eyes did, with pupils so contracted as to seem quite strange given the absence of a bright fluorescent light–bowed with a European flourish, then turned on his black-booted heel and was gone as if he had never truly been there to begin with.
"Who was that?" asked Katsuragi, bewilderment all too clear in her tone.
Neglecting to answer, I instead walked over to the desk upon which the strange boy had just discarded the manila envelope, opening it up and looking at the large stack of papers behind; as I comprehended what I was looking at, my eyes widened: here were detailed instructions, diagrams, dissertations, blue-prints…everything and more that he had promised, so much new information that I nearly had to sit down again simply to convince myself that what I had just read had been real, and not some dextroamphetamine-induced hallucination. And at the top of each stapled document, there was a single title…
Codename: Evangelion Advanced
"Colonel Katsuragi," came Rei's voice unexpectedly. "Ryū-dono said something about it being 'the Future' and 'Mankind's only hope'…"
"It's a sign," I finally managed. "A sign that the nightmare that was Third Impact might not be over just yet."
Dateline: 1400 hours, 13.10.2016
Location: 0.00435 light years beyond Pluto
Far out, beyond the explored and surveyed regions of space, a behemoth floated amongst the eddies and tides of the gravitational orbits of two dozen different solar systems. There was a time when the behemoth was comprised of living tissue, but was in truth simply a mother holding on to that one instinct that allowed her to retain some sense of ego–the protective instinct of a mother for her child–and far be it for her to object to when the monster she had placed within him in an act of colossal hubris broke free and superseded the will of her son, the son who, because of her, lived in perpetual fear of himself, of the beastly, alien thing that dwelled within him, and forced her to commit horrific acts of savagery when her child was in peril; for in the end, the fact of the matter in her view was that it had done a far better job of protecting his life than she had. But no more; for a year and more she had drifted, sleeping, peacefully resting in the notion that with the resolution of her error, he could finally find the peace she had unwittingly wrenched from him in an attempt to get the approval of her father.
She knew now how horribly wrong she was.
Far, far out, and drifting, further, ever further, from her point of origin, she heard the proof of what the strange boy who bore the name of the Dragon had told her; she heard through the medium of distance unimaginable to most any human being the sound that would haunt her endless dreams, the sound that she would know anywhere…
The sound of her child in torment.
Out in the reaches beyond the limits of explored space, a legendary weapon, the fabled Lance of a Roman officer by the name of Longinus, detached from the titan's body, was forced from the titan's body, its native power not nearly enough to lend it the fortitude to resist the unstoppable will that drove it from its place. A large, dull red orb in the center of her chest–that which some had supposed was an apple, but was both so much less and so much more–burned with an internal fire, ignited into a vibrant shade the likes of which had not been seen for a year, and with the heart-like pulsating of that single beat of life, a pair of large, narrow white eyes beneath a purple helmet came slowly back to their former brilliance, and the creature immediately turned her gaze to the source of that which alerted her.
And the monster let out a roar that was more of the mind than of the sound, the psychic signal reverberating throughout the vast expanse of Space.
EVA-01 was awake at last.