Adam Kadmon
Disclaimer: I do not own Evangelion
Pre-note: ugh. Another overly long, overly dramatic fic. Surprise surprise. Just giving you a heads up.
Pre-note 2: Mary Sue alert! Set phasers to maximum patience!
The escape pods were at the west end of the camp. They were mostly ornamental, props to pacify the less confident among the staff and crew. Shiro knew they worked, because he made sure everything here worked, but they were really nothing but overpriced placebos.
His leg slowed him down considerably. It was worse than he first thought. A monitor exploded when this began, skewering his left leg with burning plastic and metal below the knee. Ever since the command room caved in, and the resulting chaos and panic he hadn't stopped to assess the damage, both on his body and the structures littering the area. It would be a waste of time. But looking around now he was surprised by the number of buildings left. They were threadbare and would never be mended, but it was still plain to see, man's presence branded onto the earth.
Shiro staggered through the camp carrying his daughter in his arms. She was unconscious; a falling beam from the command room's ceiling spirited her away from witnessing this almost as soon as it began. He again wondered why he ever allowed her to join him here.
Ever since the divorce his ex-wife had berated him to spend more time with their daughter, to include her in his work, to show at least a passing interest in her existence. It was easier when they were married. Not that much had changed; he spent most of his life as a husband in the lab, only seeing his wife and daughter when he arrived home at the dead of night as they slept on the couch failing in their attempt to wait up for him. The only thing that was different now was where he collapsed at the end of a day. And freed of matrimony her mother had a looser tongue born of rediscovered autonomy.
His daughter was on break from school, and her mother ordered Shiro let her accompany him on his next trip. It would be good for both of them, she said. The girl begged not to go.
But the decision was out of their hands. It would be easier to acquiesce to her demands this time and have the girl tag along, as long as it got her off his back. One less emotional distraction as he saw his ambitions fulfilled.
Shiro wasn't one to brag. Despite his intellect he was fairly modest about his accomplishments. But humility was not an option this time; soon the entire world would know his name, annotated below the sum of his life's work until the end of man.
The sleepless years in the lab hunched over text and research, the ruined relationships and numbed emotional responses… for his theory to become fact any privation was endurable. He supposed having his child observe the event firsthand was a private victory as well. She would be able to take the day she learned to respect her father with her to the grave.
Was what he wanted to say. All of that was impossible now, after what reality gave him. Shiro wondered if this, what was happening right now, was the final tribulation he had to suffer for his mind's truths to be wedded with universal truth. His theories were proven. In the worst, most complete way. Obscurity was certainly no longer possible.
Fiery air slashed his face. The screech of wind raped his ears. His path was a late autumn field of metal beams and support structures, the life of human invention strewn beneath his feet, lifted and discarded as easily as dead leaves. He had yet to pass anything living; the bodies were either buried or turned to dust. He absently wondered if he was the last one alive.
No; there was that man. That man who was always grinning at a joke no one else knew… Shiro hadn't seen him for at least a day. It felt longer. But he wasn't there for the activation, the insertion, the fusion, the flash of perfect light as the anti-AT-Field unfolded and the core expanded beyond all predictable limits… it was like he ran away.
To where? To escape this? To find more colossi buried within the earth and play God with them too? To smile as he did it? And with no one to stop him?
Little boys playing with the power of giants. Shiro supposed he was no different.
He reached the west edge of the camp. There was a long, low shed propped up in the glacial ice, where the escape pods were housed. The roof was missing, blown away, and three of its sides blasted off. Shiro staggered in.
There was only one pod left undamaged. They weren't designed for two people; more than one and it tended to short out. And it could be days before a ship came to search for survivors.
He heard a boom, close enough to make him stumble. The ground shuddered. The air was thick with energy. Despite the climate he was sweating. It felt like walking through an oven.
He gently laid the girl down, propping her up against the side of the pod. Her head slumped down into her chest, blood shadowing her face and seeping into her lap like a stubborn faucet. Shiro ran his hand over the top of her head slowly. Through his glove he barely felt it.
He shut his eyes and bowed his head. He drew his hand back. He stood on shaky legs. He swore. He climbed into the escape vessel.
He hung his head over the edge of the pod. He looked at his daughter one last time. She was still unconscious. He couldn't see her face.
"I am sorry, Misato."
The capsule door closed.
Filiation
Chapter 1: Synalgia
The hall was white. It was long. The walls and ceilings were seamless but for a few scattered office doors and structural joints and the occasional necessary light panel. Aside from those minor disturbances it was flawless. Pure. Even the sound of feet hitting the floor was a kind of perfection. Many, most, called this place sterile. Or boring. Or mind numbing. It wasn't. It was merely the work and craft of humans, an instinctive effort to reproduce the absence of fault they wished to see in themselves. There was nothing but excrement beyond these halls, because these halls were not a conscious attempt at any kind of replication. They were simply a sustaining reflexive undercurrent of human minds made manifest. And that made it pure.
The halls were relaxing. They were peace without distraction. There was nothing else like them in this grotesque box full of huddled cowards running from the inescapable death of the outside world.
No, she corrected herself. That was not completely true. There was one redeeming facet. Sitting on a throne of stolen skin within that obscene and perverted thing bathing in blood and held by the magic humans called science, deep inside it, next to a heart and stomach and enclosed by a cage of teeth. A made thing that was not a made thing, that existed before her and would exist after her, ideal and whole and completing. It filled her with—
"Hey, First!"
Rei turned.
There was an all too familiar mane of red hair bobbing up and down as it quickly closed in on her position. She defied the wish to groan. Could she not have any measurable peace? The halls suddenly seemed small and filthy, filled with the teeming mass of humanity known as Soryu Asuka.
"You always wander around this place like a lost puppy," she said, falling in pace beside her comrade-in-arms. "We've both been here for years so I know you don't get lost or anything. Why do you do this all the time?"
"It is peaceful," Rei said plainly.
"More like boring," Asuka said. "Not that I want you tagging along after me all the time, but get a friend or something." She chuckled darkly. "I see the way some of the techs look at you. Well, not as many as me, but those pervs practically undress you with their eyes every chance they get. I mean, Christ. We're fourteen. I swear this organization is run by lolicons."
"Let them do as they please," she said dismissively, ignoring the not so subtle jab at their respective commander. "Who they choose to fantasize over is of no concern."
"You're creepy, First. You do know that, don't you?"
"I have been informed before."
The pair walked. In the harsh white gleam of the halls, Asuka found Rei didn't look quite as deathly pallid as she normally did.
"The Commander's son is supposed to arrive today," she remarked. She paused a breath, waiting to see how the girl took it. There was no reaction. Asuka went on. "I guess he's going to be the Third. Somebody's finally going to pilot Unit-01."
"I could pilot Unit-01 if they let me."
"Yeah, yeah. Let's not have this discussion again, please."
Asuka crossed her arms as she snorted. Rei had achieved synchronization with the purple Evangelion, though it was lower than her score with Unit-00, and too marginal to be of any real combat value. But it was more than she had accomplished. When the commanders let Asuka try her hand at Unit-01 she couldn't reach even a basic start-up level. It was as if she wasn't inside the machine at all. It was infuriating, that she, the Second Children, the best pilot NERV had, was upstaged in anything by the gleefully mediocre First.
Despite that trifling limitation she remained far and away the greatest asset NERV possessed. And when her Unit-02 was completed for actual combat, there would be little that could overshadow her again.
"I peeked over Kaji-san's shoulder while he was in his office," Asuka said. "Saw a picture of this Ikari kid. Looks like a total bore. I was hoping NERV would take just a second or two from their whole image of threatening old guys and select a cute Children. You know, other than me."
"Physical appearance has little bearing on piloting ability," Rei stated.
"You're only saying that because you're pastier than a bottle of Elmer's. Really. Me and Kaji-san are the only decent-looking people in this dumping ground for frustrated sci-fi geeks and closet pedophiles." She moaned and stared up at the ceiling, her hands meshing behind her head. "Nothing ever happens here. Sure, kicking your behind in the synch tests is fun, but when are we going to see some action? And I'm not talking about those lame sim training exercises the command crew is fixated on."
"I would not be so eager to experience combat with an actual Angel, Soryu. One did precipitate the death of half the human race."
"Way to stay optimistic, Blue. I'm sure we'd win. The Evas are all sorts of strong. I mean, come on. Giant mechs with AT-Fields against, ooh, big blurry things made of light. Scary." She huffed a little. "I wish my Unit-02 was ready."
Rei understood her tone to mean it was time to stop arguing, and she readily accepted the invitation to silence. They continued walking, their feet echoing down the halls, a leisurely staccato punctuated only by Asuka's intermittent grumblings about the monumental injustice regarding the favoritism of the inferior Units -00 and -01 over her state-of-the-art Unit-02.
The halls twisted and turned in sharply divergent paths, and Asuka followed Rei's lead simply because she knew their respective courses led to the same destination.
Another bend and a new corridor found them staring down a row of offices dedicated to some of the many science technicians and directors that kept NERV alive and operational. They were all closed except one situated in the middle of the hall, where a man was gingerly stepping out trying to carry several folders.
"Hey, Doc," the redhead called out with a wave.
Katsuragi Shiro looked up from locking his office door and politely smiled. He was a man of fifty-five, stiff and lanky from a life lived in the mind, with a long narrow face and a bony nose situated between dim brown eyes. His hair was dark and unruly, curling under his ears like hooks. He rested his weight on his ever-present cane, letting his left leg trail behind him. His smile became a touch more authentic when Asuka all but trotted over to him.
"Hello, Asuka. Rei. How are you two?"
"Oh, you know." The Second shrugged. "Same old, same old. I decided to grace miss honor student with my presence on the way to Central Dogma." She heaved a theatrical sigh. "Kaji-san asked us to be there when he brings in the new kid."
"I see. Give him my best."
"Won't you be there?"
"I have a few things I need to take care of. I imagine I'll meet him soon enough." He glanced past Asuka. "Looks like Rei isn't going to wait for you." He pointed down the hall, where the girl had nearly vanished from sight.
"Hey!" Asuka shouted, and took off after her. "Get back here, First!" She looked over her shoulder, still running. "See ya later, Doc." She disappeared with Rei a moment later.
"Bye," Shiro said.
He locked his door and left in the opposite direction as the children. Asuka was in good spirits, he mused. Despite a new pilot arriving today, and as such, a new rival. This self-delusion might not be the healthiest coping mechanism, but it was certainly among the more socially gainful ones. Especially for one with experience and dedication for it.
Shiro met Asuka in 2005 in Germany during a routine inspection to assess the progress of the second-stage Unit-02, and present a slightly more cordially authoritative face than Ikari's.
After the Second Impact, the foundation which had been privately funding Shiro for the last decade contacted and directly employed him under their scientific research division. Through its various branching wings, he found himself in Hakone under the direction of Ikari Gendo, director of the GEHIRN labs. It was there he first learned of the concept called Evangelion. The project's originator was dead by the time he arrived, and soon after he stepped foot inside GEHIRN its designation changed to NERV.
Along with the abandoned name, that smirking man he met briefly at the Pole was gone, vanished alongside his wife, replaced with the bleak and miserable thing he now called Commander.
Before Shiro could even meet the rest of the research team, Gendo sent him to Germany to remind the European branch who was really owned Unit-02. He met Dr. Soryu who was, even he had to admit, brilliant. She was one of the driving forces in the development of the Evangelion after Yui's death. She insisted on remaining in Germany, hoping to aid her country in any way she could.
He was present for Unit-02's initial activation, and Soryu's subsequent illness and suicide. The entire sequence of events was, as Shiro understood it, necessary. He wondered if Dr. Soryu knew what would happen to her, and more importantly, what would happen to her daughter. Which naturally led to the question that had bothered him since he arrived in Hakone: did Yui know too?
Afterwards he used the marginal authority Gendo granted him and gathered what was left of the shaken NERV Germany branch and announced he was dissolving its command over the production-type Evangelion and taking it back to Japan with him. Though the Germans openly bemoaned the plan and threatened to fight the decision, if only to try and work through the horror of Kyoko's fate, they relented in the end because they did not have any real say in the matter. Gendo finally took an interest in the events, and though he questioned the wisdom of pooling both active pilots in a single location, he approved the plan; retaining the possession of the only two Children on earth was conducive to weaseling more funds from the Committee.
In the lengthy period between collecting Kyoko's work and secreting it away to the main branch, Shiro approached her daughter. It was only natural for the girl to be transported along with Unit-02. She had been "chosen" by the Marduk agency as the Second Children just before her mother's death.
When Shiro met the four-year-old Asuka she was stoically numb and alone, focusing on nothing but her newfound identity as a pilot. He couldn't imagine many children faring better after witnessing a parent's death.
What remained of the girl's family did little to help her. Kyoko's ex-husband relinquished any parental rights and left Asuka to the mercy of NERV's care center, desperate for a fresh start free of his barren insane embarrassment of a former spouse, unable to look to the future and the past at the same time.
With so many orphans in the post-Impact world, it was not unheard of for a group with means to take in children. Just another nameless refugee adopted by just another bizarre fringe outfit both condemning each other to failure.
Asuka didn't seem to care one way or the other. Shiro knew psychological problems were all but assured later in her life, but if she was to pilot, was to defend everyone, any overt instability would be a disaster.
Realizing his own experiment in childrearing did little in the way of earning him the right to criticize anyone else's parental style, Shiro left Mr. Langley to his little fantasy of a happy family and kept Asuka with him, trying in his own defective, amateurish way to make her feel that she was at least a partially normal kid.
He didn't harbor any illusions; he'd never be her father and she'd never be his child. The necessity of profession and survival kept him near her until NERV Germany was dissolved of its rights over Unit-02 and it was transported to Japan. Shiro was named her interim guardian for the trip, arriving home with the expectation of giving the girl over to whatever existence the foster system allotted her.
She was shuffled through a few homes, though the vast majority of her days were spent within NERV being tested and evaluated, and trained. Intense physical, mental, and martial arts exercises, private tutoring on tactics and warfare strategy, as well as "desensitization" practices, exposing her to footage from the World Wars and post-Impact refugee camps to dull sympathy and consideration for non-combative humans in actual battle.
And because she was so mechanical in her deference to the Eva, it made everything the staff put on her tolerable. They would all tell themselves it was necessary and could believe it because she did not complain.
Soon after Shiro arrived in Japan with Asuka, a young man who called himself Ryoji Kaji was admitted into NERV, hand-picked by the Japanese Ministry of Defense, and delivered to Ikari like some sort of present. He spent his entire post-adolescent life studying tactical warfare and battle strategy, graduating towards the middle of his military class, but gaining recognition for formulating unorthodox and inventive situational attack scenarios. He represented the burgeoning new wave of military thought following the post-Impact wars, of suppression and domination over outright obliteration. And when facing enemies that could not be destroyed by conventional means, untraditional strategies were essential.
Kaji found Asuka, and she latched onto him. He didn't seem fazed at all, and let her follow him around the base. It was, to be sure, an odd relationship. But if nothing else Asuka was used to odd relationships. It raised a few eyebrows within NERV, but no more than Rei's conspicuous presence at the Commander's side. And Kaji quickly made it known he preferred an older kind of woman. At least old enough to be deemed legal.
Eventually the overworked and underfunded foster system tired of Asuka along with the many families that housed her, and Kaji offered to keep an eye on the girl. Again, many an eyebrow rose, but since no one else wanted to handle her, they looked the other way since it was easier than worrying.
Asuka's childhood need to mold a personality attractive enough to garner praise and attention affixed itself to Kaji's hollow affability and allowed her to smile and claim visibility from the adults in authority that she wanted, in a far more effective way than her numb obedience. Shiro encouraged it, even if it was a mask, and perhaps because she remembered their early time together, perhaps because he was the first person to show a semblance of care after her mother died, Asuka warmed to him considerably. The connection continued to the present, due mostly to their mutual disregard of how artificial her exterior temperament really was.
Despite the little dance they performed and her almost unnatural skill at combat and piloting, the means to purchase ego reinforcement, Shiro wished she'd never have to see actual warfare. Failing at that, the basis of her entire life, could destroy her completely. And of course she could die, too.
Shiro had tried talking to Rei as well over the few years he knew her, but she always kept herself at a distance from everyone else. He reasoned being raised by the Commander didn't exactly foster a bubbly, sociable personality.
He snorted softly. Treating her like his daughter. Gendo had an interesting sense of humor.
But now Ikari Shinji, his real child, was arriving today. What was so special about today? Why now, of all times?
Gendo's son, he thought. Why on earth wasn't he here training with Asuka and Rei since the beginning?
What was that man planning this time?
Shiro walked. As always, he thought. Moving his legs, even the injured one, was conducive to reflection. It always had been. He did not stop to question it. Perhaps the exertion of physicality serving as a contrasting promotion to mental activity.
He walked and thought. About Asuka, Rei, Kaji, Gendo, NERV, the Evas, the Angel rotting beneath his feet, the world that had proven him wrong by not giving him any more giants. He thought about the boy arriving today, all but doomed to the life he and everyone else he knew was sinking in. And while his future was already mapped out for him, it had to be this way. Another necessity.
He walked and thought.
Come.
Shinji stared at the letter again, and the only word printed on it. The first contact he had with his father in nearly three years, and all he said was a single word. A command. An order.
His first response was to burn the letter, bury the ashes, and piss in the hole. He stopped himself after merely ripping it to pieces. It took him the better part of a day to reassemble the strips and tape them back together. And it still said the same thing.
Come.
Leave your life, leave your school, leave your aunt and uncle, leave everything you have grown up with. And come to me. Even though I abandoned you. Even though I never bothered to visit you. Even though I don't give a damn. Come.
Shinji sat on the wide steps of the train station, staring at the ground as people passed by without looking at him. He had just called the number provided by the enclosed pamphlet that arrived with his father's letter, speaking to a young woman who told him to wait at the train depot. She sounded nice. Energetic. Filled with expectation and hope for life.
"Idiot."
The flow of civilians gradually siphoned off until the train lurched forward with a metallic groan and slid away along the tramline snaking through the city. He watched it twist between shining towers of silver and white, floating above the boisterous life of the populace; cars marched on crowded streets in fixed ranks, pedestrians swarmed along sidewalks like ants, even all the accompanying noise was fast and directed. This was a metropolis that did not have time to waste on anything.
Shinji stared at the letter. The word. It was still the same.
A tiny childish part of his mind wondered if his father was asking him back because he wanted him now. If he changed his mind and they could be a family, like normal people. They could live together, and he could go to school, and his dad could go to work, and Shinji could try and be happy without being forced to push a fake smile through his teeth for once in his life.
He tried to smile, right there, sitting by himself on the edge of an unfamiliar city. He tried hard. To prove… what? That he could do it? That it really was all a disgusting mask? His lips curled up, then back, showing his teeth. It felt like some animal's mouth supplanted over his own. It did not feel unnatural.
"Hey there!" a friendly voice cut through to him. "You're Ikari Shinji, aren't you?"
The boy turned to the foot of the steps and found a charmingly scruffy man in a silver sports car idling on the road in front of him; bucket seats, no top, and sleek profile all combining to announce this was a male with distinct and well-known tastes. He was wearing some type of uniform, dark sunglasses, and an easy grin.
"Yeah. How do you know my name?"
"I'm Captain Kaji," the man said, removing his shades. His eyes made him look old. "Hop in. I'm here to pick you up. You did get my letter and photo, right?"
"That was you?" Shinji pulled out the rest of the papers sent to him. The written portion was hand printed on stationary, an overly affable welcoming, and had a small picture attached showing a clean-cut young man with slicked-back hair and a somber countenance. Shinji looked back up at the man to compare. "This is really you?" He approached slowly, holding out the photo to show him.
"Yeah. Thought it would be funny." Kaji leaned over to open the passenger side door. "Come on. We should get going. The sooner we get there the sooner you can start to adapt." He still saw suspicion on the boy, and pulled out his ID. "There. See? Captain Kaji. Believe me now?"
Shinji took a few moments glancing between the letter and the ID, and finally decided if this really was a kidnapper or murderer, he'd at least be able to go out in style. He climbed into the car. The man stepped on the gas as soon as he sat down.
"Wh-where exactly are we going?" Shinji asked, hastily strapping his seatbelt over his lap.
Kaji tossed a small pamphlet on his passenger's lap without looking.
"Flip through it. It'll help to familiarize you with where we're headed, 'kay?"
"NERV?" Shinji said, reading the cover of the booklet. "This is where my father works?"
"Yup. It's a pretty famous place. Recognized all over the world, and 'is a vital ally of the Japanese government and UN.'"
"Sounds important."
"It is," Kaji said with an odd smile. "Almost everyone in the city works for it, in one way or another. Even if they don't know it."
"So, what does it do?"
"Oh, a little bit of everything. Our computer system helps run Tokyo-3, we advance the fields of science, technology and bioengineering, we're into construction and zoning… we even manage power systems for some of the surrounding cities. We've got our hands in a lot of things."
They drove. Shinji didn't have time to wonder at the stunningly advanced city racing past him. He tried to summon something, to feel disappointed that he was missing this weird and wonderful place by traveling so fast. All he felt was a massive nothing. Like someone scooped out his insides.
His father was somewhere in this strange city, and he was speeding towards him. Despite his youth, despite his secret desires, he didn't see this ending well. It wasn't even the anniversary of his mother's death. What the hell did he want to talk to him about?
The car eventually reached a wide tunnel along a deserted back road that descended into a lift, and after locking the vehicle in place began to swiftly clatter downwards. Shinji's mask of indifference shattered.
"Wow," he blurted as the car rail cleared the final barrier separating the colossal expanse of the Geofront's floor with the surface. "This… this place is huge. It must have taken you forever to dig all this out."
"I bet it did." Kaji looked at the boy and felt a genuine smile itching on his lips. It wasn't often he got the chance to see someone truly awed by this place. He was so blasé about it by now it was a kind of novelty to witness an outsider's reactions. "I guess it is a little impressive. See that pyramid? That's where we're going. It's roomier than it looks. Most of it is underground. Ah, more so." He watched Shinji try to take everything in, like a toddler on Christmas morning. His burgeoning good mood faltered. "Welcome to NERV."
They reached the bottom in sixteen minutes. Another five and they were on a narrow road that led to the outskirts of the base. The path was deserted, only the occasional maintenance grid or cluster of trees obscuring their sight. They travelled at a quick rate; Captain Kaji had a heavy foot, though he appeared relaxed and in control the entire time. Shinji saw a pack of half-empty smokes resting on the gearshift panel.
The headquarters abruptly disappeared as they entered a sunken tunnel leading to an underground parking facility for officers. The car stopped in a wide space with a placard mounted on the wall reading "Reserved. Captain Kaji." Shinji finally decided he wasn't being kidnapped.
A lengthy and silent elevator trip later, they entered into NERV proper. Kaji led him through the sterile base, weaving down corridors and halls like it was second nature to the man even though there was little to distinguish one from another. Shinji followed as best he could, almost jogging behind him while trying to flip through the pamphlet.
"What's the rush?" he asked.
"Don't you want to see your dad? Isn't this an important day for you two?"
It was a dirty tactic, to play dumb and let this kid talk, but Kaji didn't care. He had read all the personnel files and reports on Ikari Shinji, but he wanted to know who this boy was; what he thought of himself and his father from his own mouth. After all, he was going to be his commanding officer. Even before receiving the official dossier on him, Kaji wasn't stupid enough to imagine this little visit was anything other than some manipulative ploy to force this child into becoming a Children.
"I don't know if it's important," Shinji said. "I don't even know what he wants from me." He paused. "Do you?"
"Sorry. I couldn't say." That wasn't a lie; he really couldn't say.
"Are you taking me to him right now?"
"Not quite yet. We got one little stop to make first. There are some people you should meet. I'm sure you'll like them." The real question is if they'll like you. He glanced at the boy. Definitely a no.
Kaji led him down another hall to a spacious conference room dominated by a long table in its center, screens and unmarked metallic boxes littering the white walls. Waiting inside were three girls; one tall with fiery red hair who was leaning against the wall in a picture of exasperation, another with pale skin and blue hair reading a small booklet, and the last was wearing an beige uniform and a friendly smile. Kaji pushed Shinji ahead.
"Glad you all decided to come out today." He grinned as the redhead snorted. "Well, this is Ikari Shinji. Give him a big Tokyo-3 welcome."
"Yo," the first girl said simply, giving a very short, very forced wave. "I'm Asuka. Welcome to NERV, The Boringest Place on Earth."
"I am Ayanami Rei," the other stated. She glanced up once from her book, then back down.
"Hi! My name is Ibuki Maya. Pleased to meet you, Ikari-kun. I hope you like your stay here."
"Hi," Shinji said, trying not to gawk at the three goddesses standing before him. The question forming in the back of his mind, of why this place needed teenagers, was put to the wayside behind the wispy thought of what these girls tasted like. He offered a clumsy wave, which only Ibuki returned.
"Is the introduction over?" Asuka drawled. This little boy, though slated for pilot status, wasn't one yet. As such, he didn't deserve any recognition beyond a disdainful eye to let him know his place. If he did stay in the base he'd learn who was really in charge soon enough. "Can I leave now?"
"Don't be so cold," Kaji said, though he was smiling. "You should spend some time with him. Get to know him. He actually seems like a pleasant Ikari."
Maya opened her mouth on reflex to again refresh the Captain on an officer's proper deference and respect to his commander in front of personnel, but was sharply cut off by Asuka.
"That's totally impossible," she said, mustering as much justifiable condescension as she could. "I don't care if his dad didn't raise him. All Ikari's are creepy and humorless control freaks."
Kaji again reminded himself why he could never leave that girl alone with his laptop. She just had a knack for learning things she wasn't supposed to.
"No, really," he continued, hoping to salvage at least part of this introduction, and Shinji's fast deteriorating mood. The boy's eyes had fallen to the floor at the 'didn't raise him' remark. "He's a bit on the quiet side, but he's really well mannered. And I thought you liked cute guys, Asuka."
"'Cute,'" she repeated. She gave Shinji a hasty once-over and unsuccessfully stifled a derisive snort. "If you say so. Or are you expanding your own options, Kaji-san?"
"Christ," he muttered. He hoped the attempt to push Asuka down a few pegs would earn at least a small reaction of life from the boy at his side, but he just glared at his feet. "Well, how about a woman's opinion? Ibuki? You're a fan of the cute ones, right?"
"… I don't think I should be talking about such things." She covered her mouth to conceal her smile. "It isn't proper. He's only fourteen."
"It isn't like I'm asking you to sleep with him. It's a simple yes or no question."
Maya looked away, finding the door exceedingly interesting. Kaji sighed.
"How about you, Rei?" he said cheerfully. "What do you think of little Ikari?"
Rei kept reading. Asuka failed at containing another snort. Kaji sighed again.
"Sorry. They're usually more sociable than this. Well, Ibuki is." That earned a slightly outraged huff from the Second. "I suppose we should get going, meet the Commander and all."
"'Commander?'" Shinji repeated, glancing up. What kind of place is this?
"Well, yeah," Kaji said, already ushering the Children out after absently waving goodbye to Maya. "Your dad's the boss of this hole in the ground. Getting to meet him in person is kind of an honor, I guess. Maybe more like a prize." Or not, depending how you look at it.
It struck Shinji as utterly ridiculous. His father, head of a huge, powerful organization like this? When he couldn't even look after his only child?
"Hello."
Shinji shook himself back to his present. There was a man waiting for them at the end of the hall, leaning heavily on a thin cane. He looked resignedly intelligent.
"Dr. Katsuragi," Kaji greeted. "Coming along for the show?" He nodded slightly to the boy at his side.
"I guess I should." Shiro looked down on the child. "You must be Ikari Shinji."
"Seems like everyone knows my name around here," he muttered.
"It's a very important name."
Shinji glanced at the man. Then away. Something about his voice disturbed him deeply. It wasn't threatening in the least, or some sinister growl. It was completely calm and composed, almost smooth like silk, but it sounded rehearsed. Like an unnatural inflection learned for a theater role.
"Yeah, yeah," Asuka sniped. "Real important. NERV and nepotism go hand in hand. Of course it's an 'important name.'"
Shiro turned away smiling good-naturedly, almost indulgently. Kaji quirked a quick grin before forcing an apologetic look towards Shinji. Rei walked.
The path they took was long and circuitous, but Kaji said something about not wanting to use a shoddy motorized raft to get to the cage, whatever that was. After ten minutes of marching they spotted a woman leaning against a wall, taking angry glances at her watch. She introduced herself as Dr. Akagi Naoko. She was tall and curvy, her sharp face framed by dark coiling hair, wearing a prim lab coat and a strangely affected smile.
"Ah, my other favorite doctor," Kaji said as the party reached her. "I know you and Katsuragi both have to be present for today's festivities, but seeing the two of you together outside the lab is such a treat. Especially you, my lovely Akagi."
"Still such a charmer," she replied flatly. "You're young enough to be my greasy son. Act your age."
"You wound me."
Asuka rolled her eyes, forced to witness her guardian's innate flirting yet again. Rei stared ahead. Shinji looked away. Shiro readjusted his cane.
"Please. If I wanted to wound you I'd use my heel." Naoko shook her head in an extremely long-suffering manner, because she had suffered so long in this manner, and began leading everyone ahead. "Took you long enough to get here. Let's go."
She was obviously older than he was Shinji reasoned, but it was impossible to discern by how many years. She possessed an odd agelessness, stuck between mid-adulthood and menopausal existence. Shinji suddenly wondered if the only criteria NERV had for hiring females was to look really good.
The halls bled together. They were all white and plain, disconnected from the things pushing through them. Shinji's legs ached. He glanced around him and noticed he was the only one who seemed to mind. He wanted to sit down, or ask someone where they were going.
Right. Father. Why the hell can't he meet us?
"Here it is," Kaji finally said. His voice was dull.
He stepped past Naoko and swiped a card in a slot on what looked like a blank industrial wall. It made a sharp clunking noise, and a door opened from its seams, revealing a bridge suspended over a liquid. It was dark; the only light spilling from the hall behind them. They strode in, leaving Shinji to blindly follow after.
A moment in the pitch, and lights crashed to life. Shinji forced his eyes to adjust. He looked to his right, conforming to everyone else's stare.
It was some kind of skull. Two hollow sockets for eyes, a horn between them, jutting cheeks, a muzzled mouth, highlighted with purple and green. Its body, if it had one, was submerged in a strange-smelling liquid that appeared to fall dozens of meters below his feet. Shinji had the urge to laugh. A robot? He felt like he just stepped into a bad anime.
"This is the culmination of mankind's work for the past fifteen years," Naoko told him. She decided a little pomp might impress the boy since the sight of the mech alone didn't, and ease him into agreeing to pilot. "What we have worked on to safeguard humanity. This is the synthetic life form Evangelion, Unit-01."
Shinji suddenly felt like an idiot just gawking at this thing, and asked the only question that seemed relevant to him.
"Is this… this is my father's work?"
"Correct," a voice tumbled from above the umbilical bridge. Gendo stared down at his son wearing blank and detached face.
Your work? Shiro thought. Well, I suppose theft of this scale is a kind of work.
"Why… why did you even want me to come here?" Shinji was saying. "Just to show me some robot?"
"I don't want you here. I need you here. I finally have a use for you."
Shiro expected something along these lines. Gendo wasn't a cruel man, not in the traditional sense. He was just incredibly calculating. Acting chummy and loving towards his son might garner a temporary connection and allegiance, but inevitably the boy would wonder why he was abandoned in the first place. Being cold and indifferent only drove Shinji on in his quest for approval from his father.
"A use," Shinji said to himself. His eyes wavered.
Expected.
Asuka and Rei watched the exchange from the wall of the cage by the door. Both were impassive. Kaji was ahead of them, looking sidelong at Shinji, an expression of restrained understanding in his eyes. Naoko stepped forward to launch into the needed explanation of what exactly the boy's use was.
An alarm sounded at Gendo's side. He turned on it without haste.
"An unknown life form has been detected outside the city's perimeter," he announced. "It is most likely an Angel."
Kaji openly gasped. Naoko's was far more guarded. Shiro didn't bother checking how the girls took it.
He imagined the inevitable response from the rest of the base. It couldn't be anything less than bedlam, some sick circus act of screams and flailing limbs, forgetting themselves and their responsibilities for the long moment between the tedium of their old existence and the sudden realization that they would in fact someday die.
He often wondered how everyone would react to another Angel. This was NERV, after all. It indoctrinated people into simultaneously fighting against the end of the world and expecting it. Like buying a gun to keep in your sock drawer, all the while knowing you'd someday hold it to your head and empty it.
This had to be more than mere coincidence. Ikari's son, the logical pilot of the only combat-ready Evangelion, arriving today of all days? Shiro wasn't surprised by the earth-shattering advent of a new Angel. Because Gendo had to have known. A convenience like this was too big to swallow. It should have stunned him. It really should have. All he felt was a subtle sense of inevitability.
The catwalks and bridges lining the cage walls quickly filled with technicians beginning precautionary initial activation checks and maintenance on Unit-01, despite NERV's secondary status behind the military. Better safe than sorry was the official reasoning, even if the higher-ups knew who would eventually take the reins.
"The military will have first crack at it," Kaji grumbled, now at Shiro's side. He sounded disappointed. His eyes fell on Shinji along with everyone else's.
"Get in it," Gendo ordered his son.
"Shinji-kun," Naoko said before the boy could react, "you will pilot the Evangelion and fight the Angel."
"… what?" His entire countenance screwed into a futile effort to understand what was happening. "Why? Wh… what in the world is an Angel supposed to be?"
No one answered. His face went slack for a moment, the mouth slightly parted. Then the lips crashed together and the jaw clenched. He spoke through his teeth to his father, his eyes on the floor.
"You… you called me here, you finally talked to me… just to drive some stupid robot? Just to go out and fight some thing?" Shinji was shaking. "This… this is a joke." No one answered him, their silence tacitly ordering him to comply with his father's command. He looked up towards the only person who had even tried to display something approaching concern since he arrived.
"Get in," Kaji said.
"But, my father can't—"
"Shinji-kun," Kaji said firmly. "What did you expect would happen today? That you were coming here for some happy family reunion? You knew that wasn't what this trip was. Deluding yourself into thinking anything else is childish. It's time to grow up."
"I'm fourteen!" he yelled.
"Asuka and Rei are fourteen, too. But they've decided to act like adults and help us. They're not being selfish. They've learned to be responsible. And believe me, you're not the only fourteen-year-old with troubles. But your own problems don't give you the right to ignore everyone else's."
"There has to be someone else—"
"There is no one else. If you don't do this, people will die."
The boy's head shook, trying to force the notion from his mind.
"People will die," the Captain said sharply. "Unless we stop that Angel everyone in this city could be killed." He paused. Time to present the option of the noble warrior. Kids ate that nonsense up. "Help us, Shinji-kun. Don't think about regrets. Think about the people living in this city. You have a chance to save them. Don't you care about them? About your honor or integrity?"
Shinji gritted his teeth.
"Are you just going to let two girls fight while you sit back and watch?" Kaji said. "Are you that shameless?"
"No!" he screamed. He swallowed his emotion and spoke in a hissing whisper. "N-no. I won't do it. No matter what you say."
The boy panted, his outburst over. The audience looked away, anywhere but the walkway under the Eva, suddenly uncomfortable. The initial thrill and excitement of seeing yet another child getting roped into this existence firsthand was replaced with the knowledge that they shouldn't have been thrilled or excited.
"Fine," Gendo spoke. His son didn't look at him. "If you won't do it, then run away. A coward is of no use to me." He turned and left, heading back to the command bridge and the generals from the military that were sure to be awaiting him there by now.
The rest of the room realized the show was over and hurried to prepare for a possible sortie against the Angel. Asuka and Rei were the first to leave. Kaji gave a final shake of his head as he looked down at Shinji, then left for Central Dogma. Everyone else followed suit. Low-level techs and maintenance crews cleaned up and abandoned the cage, their job done. Unit-00 needed to be prepped now that the boy refused. Naoko shouted orders to the crew as she left for the command center, preparing for the attack she knew was certain.
"Dr. Akagi," Shiro said offhandedly as she passed him under the gaze of the Eva. "When you reach the bridge, please eject and open Unit-01's entry plug."
"… excuse me?"
"Please do it."
"Nothing you say will change his mind," she whispered. "If his own father couldn't what chance to you have? You just met him."
"Please do it."
Naoko exited the cage with a short sigh through her teeth. She was the last to leave, and after she did the chamber fell into abysmal peace.
There was silence for a time. Shinji gazed down at the dense liquid surrounding Unit-01. Like crystalline blood.
"We still have a little while," Shiro said. "The JSSDF has priority command over an emergency like this. But it's only a matter of time before they swallow their pride and hand control over to your father."
Shinji stared at the floor.
"The military brass may resort to using an N2 mine, but at most that will slow the Angel down. It's up to us to stop it. This, to fight the Angels, is why NERV was created, and why the Eva was built. Without it, we'd just be waiting to die right now. Are you ready to die, Shinji-kun?"
"Stop talking to me. I'm not going inside that thing. I don't care what you say. What anyone says. So just leave me alone."
The purple skull stared down at them with empty eyes. Most of the cage lights had been turned off as the crews left, only a pair of high-power fluorescents at either end of the umbilical bridge illuminating the chamber. Shiro could almost forget where they were, of what they were standing over, and of what stood above them. The stench of blood seemed to fade into some sort of obscene perfume one would catch from a passing woman on a busy street.
"You hate your father so much?"
"I told you to stop talking."
"My dad was killed in a car crash when I was young," Shiro said, unfazed. "Ten or eleven, I think. My mother raised me alone. I was in my first year of college when she died. She had struggled with cancer for years without telling me, and instead of tightening our finances and trying to fight it, she sent me to school. In a way, I guess you could say she died for me."
His tone was light, almost amused.
"I was angry with her for a long time. But I eventually realized why she did it. For a parent to sacrifice their life for their child's… that is the greatest act of love that exists in this world. Even so, if I could go back and change it, I would. Though I know she'd just do the same thing again. She wanted to give me the life she felt I deserved. I suppose it was selfish of her. She made the decision about my life, what I wanted, by herself without asking me. She died because she believed what she was doing was right."
He glanced down. Shinji didn't appear to be listening.
"Parents don't always make the right choices regarding their children. They might not care that they do. They might not even love them. But just as parents have a responsibility to help their children, children have a responsibility to help their parents. It's a two-way street. If either side just sits by, leeching off the other, it's no different than being a thief. Your father may not help you, and you may not help him, but you have someone else to consider.
"Would your mother want you to just sit by?"
"Where do you get off talking about my mother?" Shinji snapped. His teary eyes flashed in utter fury.
Shiro watched him calmly for a moment, then continued in a blithe tone.
"I met your mom after the Second Impact," he said. He looked up at Unit-01. "I had heard about her in the late nineties, a brilliant young theorist who was shaking up the scientific community with her boldly fresh takes on bioengineering. Along with Dr. Akagi, she was one of the leading minds of our time."
Shinji stared at him. His mother… he couldn't believe she was anything other than his mother. She was just a normal woman. She was just the only person who ever loved him.
"I met her right after you were born, after the Impact," Shiro reiterated. He smiled strangely. "She looked very happy. Like she was holding the entire world in her arms." His voice paused in hesitation. "Do you know what caused the Second Impact, Shinji-kun?"
The boy opened his mouth to respond.
"It wasn't a meteor," Shiro said before he could speak. "That story was fabricated to keep the masses in the dark. You see, there are truths in this world that could topple civilization. I'm not being trite. People couldn't handle it.
"Shinji-kun, an Angel triggered the Second Impact. An entity was found buried in the ice at the North Pole and an investigation team was sent to study it. During the course of the examination it awoke, and detonated, melting the ice cap and heralding the Impact.
"I'm sure you've learned about the years following it, the wars and homelessness and famine and disease. I lived through it. It was hell. Again, I'm not being melodramatic. It was a global nightmare, unlike anything before it. I cannot even describe it; there are no words. It is something that cannot allow to happen again.
"It was caused by an Angel, just like the one in the city right now. Meaning the threat of a Third Impact, one that could in theory annihilate the entire human race, is very real, and above us as we speak. Conventional military forces cannot match the power of an Angel. Only the Evangelion has a chance."
He stopped to breathe. When he spoke again it was oddly calmed.
"And only children born after the Second Impact can pilot the Eva. Believe me, we'd use trained soldiers if we could. But we can't. The Evas won't let just anyone control them. But this is something you can do. And I feel it's what your mother would want from you."
Shinji's eyes narrowed. The man had an incredibly composed and poised way of speaking, like a hypnotist lulling him into a state of defenselessness. It was getting harder and harder to stay angry
with the man. But he wasn't like his father, or the Captain. He hadn't explicitly ordered him to do anything yet. And he was telling him about his mother.
"The Evangelion was made to help everyone who survived the Impact," Shiro said. "From Angels, from each other, from themselves… that was why your mother created the Eva. To rescue man in the hope he should, and would, continue living. She is the one who brought the Eva into our world for that purpose. Not your father, not me, not anyone else. It was her. She created it."
He finally turned back to Shinji, taking in his awestruck face and features. He really did look like his mother, he mused. Idly, he registered the LCL draining from the cage, fully revealing the neck and shoulders of the Eva. The boy beside him didn't notice at all.
"Shinji-kun," he said. "If you just stand by and do nothing, if you refuse to help us and pilot the Eva then you'll be betraying your mother's wishes. And if you do that it will be no different than if you killed your mother yourself."
Shinji looked like he had been punched.
"All that remains of her is her will," Shiro stated. "Her wishes and dreams. Denying them means denying her, and then there will truly be nothing left of Ikari Yui. She will be dead, in every sense of the word. You're the only one who can sustain her."
The doctor took a silent breath.
"Or you can sit by and watch, and refuse your mother and the world she worked to create for you. And kill her again, this time forever. Is that what you want?"
Shinji tried to keep from crying.
"Is it?"
"… no," the boy choked out.
"I see," Shiro said softly. He stayed quiet for a moment. The child next to him struggled not to openly weep. "At the moment I am of little consequence. All I can do is talk. But words won't decide this battle. It will be decided by the Evangelion, and who chooses to sit inside her."
He waited. After a half-minute, like a sudden thunderclap, the back of the Eva opened and a long tube spun out. Shinji jumped. Shiro let the shock wear off before he spoke again.
"Rei is out there now, but she won't win. Her Unit-00 is the prototype. It was made for tests and experiments, not combat. Asuka's Unit-02 isn't operational, and she can't make Unit-01 move. It's up to you."
"How do you know I'll even be able to—"
"I am sure of, Shinji-kun." He stared at the boy. He still couldn't push aside his fear and hurt. He was just a child. Shiro let his eyes slip shut. "Reality is not easy to accept, but it is something we all must do. And after the Impact we can't delude ourselves with anything but the one true reality man has: life is pain. History is filled with grotesque and perverse acts by humans, and it's only gotten worse in the last fifteen years. But sitting on the sidelines when you can help to at least try and change that reality is terrible too. Existing for yourself is an affront against our race and your mother."
Shiro reluctantly opened his eyes. He waited until the boy looked up to him.
"Your father will never be who you want him to be. He will never smile and hug you and say he loves you. It is not who he is. You have to stop wishing for it. He doesn't have it in him anymore.
"But your mother loved you. She always loved you. And she will always love you, no matter what. But what's important, is if you love her. If you do, then prove it. Use the Evangelion and save us. Save yourself. Save her. Your father has been killing her for far too long. You can stop him."
He paused only a breath.
"Don't you kill her too."
The boy's entire body was shaking. He looked like he was about to hyperventilate.
"You have an obligation to keep each other alive," Shiro said. He sighed tiredly. "Fear and indecision won't accomplish it. Only human action can. And right now your action is the only one that can make any kind of difference.
"I won't lie. It will be extremely dangerous. All NERV can do for you is show you the path. You have to take the first step. But you won't be by yourself."
He studied Shinji's shoulders and balled fists trembling under the onus of his childhood slipping from his grasp. His face had fallen against his chest. Shiro did not look away.
"You are not alone. Your mother will always be watching over you, Shinji-kun."
The child was finally crying. Silent tears crawled down his face. He wasn't trying to hide them, or wipe them away. He let them fall. His shirt was speckled with water. Shiro watched for a moment, then turned and left.
He walked out of the cage and made his way back to the command bridge, both to lend any help and support he could, and to bear witness to this new Angel and the possible end of the world.
The bridge was chaos. People were yelling, alarms were blaring, the main monitor was alive with diagrams and live feeds of Unit-00 in its cage. The three lieutenants were bent over their control panels, fingers flying across keyboards in pale blurs. Dr. Akagi was leaning over Maya's shoulder, directing her actions. Asuka was propped up against the command tower, arms tightly crossed, eyes glued on the main screen and Unit-00, smoldering with frustration. Captain Kaji was at the center of the room, shouting orders and spinning like a dervish, instructions and demands reverberating throughout the chamber.
The JSSDF finally swallowed their pride, Shiro thought. Just as well. He supposed NERV deserved to die first.
The main monitor displayed the Angel, curled into itself at the center of a massive barren crater, as its skin and body burned. Below it was a timer counting backwards, the projected time until the invader recovered itself enough to attack. Twenty-five and a half minutes remained.
Humanoid, Shiro thought. It looked enough like Adam and the Evas. A part of him expected some drastic alteration in its presentation. But it had arms and legs, odd, large arms tapering directly into clawed fingers all supported by spindly legs, but arms and legs nonetheless. He couldn't see the core.
"The Angel is too far out of our reach," Kaji stated flatly. "The N2 mine completely wiped out our cable outposts. Meaning Unit-00 can't reach it. The cables from the city aren't long enough to travel a distance that great. And the battery won't give her enough time to do anything once she arrives."
"Orders, sir?"
"We'll have to wait and see what it does next. None of our current weapons can reach it. We can only hope it continues its projected path and comes into our range. Have Rei ready in Unit-00. We'll launch her as soon as that thing enters our operational perimeter."
The room erupted in activity again. Shiro's eyes passed over it all. He glanced up at Gendo and Fuyutsuki, high above in the command tower, watching with blank faces. They were both unruffled and composed as always, acting like this was nothing but another training exercise. Were they really that confident? Didn't they hold any fear or anxiety?
Or do they already know how this will end?
A dark thought crept into his head, not for the first time.
Gendo knew the Second Impact was going to occur.
It was human decision that shaped the world. Whatever God spawned mankind had been gutted and buried for a long time. There was no greater force, no guiding hand. There was nothing but emptiness. And within that emptiness, humans thrived. They crawled the earth with greedy hands and bloody teeth, looking for new and inventive ways to slaughter each other. And the decision to do so was not of some divine influence. The choice lay with the individual.
Meaning someone chose to let the Second Impact occur. Someone made it happen. And Gendo knew who and why.
For the moment the more pressing concern was trying to prevent a Third Impact this new Angel was bent on delivering them.
And all we have to do is offer a few children up to stop it.
Like Shinji, Shiro thought. Like the other Children. He was nothing but a kid; a messy amalgamation of insecurities and fear. A child desperately longing to love and be loved by his father, all the while hating the man. He was all NERV had left.
He could die today, regardless of whether he decided to pilot or not. The odds were not in his favor. But he was the only remaining option. Despite Rei's extensive training, she always displayed a strange caution inside the Eva. And Unit-00 just wasn't equipped to handle one-on-one combat.
But with no experience, no training, no time to practice… by all superficial accounts Shinji would be all but assured to lose. Shiro's sole hope was that Yui wouldn't let her son die so soon. And if it was Shiro who sent him to his end, he would accept it. He had already made peace with how he manipulated and outright lied to the boy, of using his mother to destroy what little self-sufficiency he had.
What's one life when weighed against the rest of humanity?
Shinji's troubled face floated effortlessly into his mind. He held onto it, then let it gradually bleed away, replaced with another. A soft visage that was both sad and angry. Gentle features framed with lavender hair. Brown eyes that spoke of justified confusion and secret grief.
Just one life.
Staying alive with the truth to keep it from being razed by the light that swallowed the Pole, selling his soul to sustain it, and then burdening others with it. It was all necessary.
Shinji had a right to know the truth, to know why he had to fight, and most likely someday die, in the Eva. Shiro felt he should be the one to tell him, since he was forcing him into the entry plug, no different than if he held a gun to the boy's head. He was sending him to his eventual slaughter, simply to postpone his own. But children were so easy to kill.
The bridge's bedlam continued unabated. The Angel had unfurled to a degree, standing like an old man, but still unyielding and inevitable. It was here to execute, in accordance to an order from a nameless all-powerful authority to satisfy some innate submission to what is beyond it. The core glowed a watery crimson.
We really aren't that different, Shiro thought. No, we're probably worse.
We kill our brethren, we kill each other, we kill children to stave off death, and all the while tell ourselves its required and justified. So deserving of life. This is who we are. This is what mankind is.
This is what I am.
Twenty-five and a half minutes were up.
The main screen unflinchingly displayed the Angel looming over the broken form of Unit-00, one of its arms severed, its single luminous eye cracked and bleeding. The orange mech was still trying to rise and continue the fight, and the command bridge could hear the soft muffled gasps of pain from the First Children.
"Damn it," Kaji hissed. Not the successful first sortie he was hoping for.
Asuka was still leaning against the wall below the command tower. She hadn't moved since the battle began. She snorted.
"If I was out there that gangly freak would already be dead," she muttered.
"Synch rate fluctuating," Maya reported. "She's exhausting herself too much. She's already critically injured. Anymore and she could go into cardiac arrest. Captain, this is dangerous."
"She'll have to retreat for now," Kaji said after a moment of thought. "But we have to at least slow down that Angel." His next pause opened the floor to information to help him formulate a new approach. Aoba reported first.
"The intercept system isn't operational yet. The JSSDF forces were mostly useless." He hesitated, and it was understood for what it was: the N2 mine was the only real option they had at the moment, despite the utter devastation it would wreak on the city. "Evacuation reports say 95 of the population has been accounted for. Sir?"
"Status on Unit-02?"
"Not ready," Naoko answered. "It's still in the AT-Field nullification zone. If we send it out now it'll be destroyed."
"Rei's status? Could she pilot Unit-01?"
"Negative," Maya said, a little sickened that the Captain would even consider something it. "She's hurt badly. She can't survive another sortie. Sir, she needs to get out of there now." Her commanding officer fell silent. "Sir?"
Kaji stared at the main display, and the Angel stalking towards Unit-00 again. The Eva was vainly reaching for a weapons transport, clawing its way towards a designated building. He almost swore out loud. Kaji wasn't a tactical genius. It wasn't something that came naturally. He could make intricate plans and scenarios, but those were done in the comfort of his office over several days. In the heat of the moment, a situation he had never truly faced until today, he began to feel his knowledge and training slip away.
Rei was too injured to reach a retrieval point and regroup. Asuka was useless without Unit-02. That brat Shinji was too busy feeling sorry for himself. The only marginally useful strategy remaining was to beg the JSSDF to drop another mine while they regrouped, the city be damned.
5 is only 5.
"Sir?"
"What in the world…?" Maya scrunched her brow in confusion. "We have a life sign inside Unit-01's entry plug."
"What?" Kaji instantly replied.
"Someone's inside Unit-01." She thought Dr. Akagi was just being hopelessly optimistic when she drained the cage and ejected the plug, but somehow she knew Shinji would get in. How did she—
"Insert the plug," Naoko ordered after stealing a disturbed look at Shiro.
"Wh-what?"
"I said, insert the plug." She fixed Kaji with a stare.
"Do it," he said after a moment.
"Inserting plug," Maya whispered, hands swiftly clacking over the keyboard.
Shinji's face burst onto the display from the live cameras in Unit-01's cockpit. His eyes were puffy and red. His face was twisted into a fixed mask of fear and—
"I'm ready," he said over the comm. line.
Shiro arched an eyebrow. He didn't expect the boy to sound so furious. Maybe telling him he was killing his mother wasn't such a great idea after all.
That anger was worrisome. Then again, he was Ikari Gendo's child. That man wasn't known for happy dances and belly laughs.
"He hasn't had any preparation…" Maya whispered.
"He's all we have," Kaji said. "Begin activation."
"Fill the plug!" Naoko ordered. "Move Unit-01 to the launch pad!"
Shinji panicked a bit as the LCL started crawling up his body and slipped past his mouth and nose. He gagged and coughed. The synchronization connections began, and he squinted against the flashes of light and color. The Eva hummed around him like a coat of electric armor.
"Synch rate?" Naoko commanded.
"… 40," Maya said in awe.
"What?"
"Without any training," Kaji muttered, peering over Ibuki's shoulder.
Asuka's left eye twitched.
"40," the Lieutenant confirmed. "And holding steady. It's even higher than Rei's scores in Unit-01. This is amazing."
Shiro stared dispassionately ahead. He watched the bridge crew express shock and wonder.
He skimmed over the synch graphs on his way to the main screen. He saw the Angel abruptly pause from pursuing Unit-00 and cock its beaked face.
Unit-01 was moved to the lifts as Dr. Akagi tried to briefly give Shinji an explanation of the Eva's operating systems and how to manipulate them. He looked like he was deciding whether to start crying or assault someone. He had a long enough list justifying either.
And I put his mother at the top of it, Shiro thought.
Kaji should have known vague ideals about truth and justice and saving the world wouldn't work on children. Especially these children. Asuka piloted for herself, for a chance to show her greatness to the world and her mother. Rei fought because the Commander told her to, and to give her life a sliver of purpose. Both girls had nothing but the Eva.
He supposed Shinji might be no different now. Protecting humanity might be a comforting lie the adults of this organization told themselves, but to the pilots, the ones who would actually be out there fighting and dying, it was personal. They were struggling for a sense of self. Everyone he knew did the exact same thing.
"Unit-01 ready for launch," Hyuga said over his shoulder, eyes glued to the main monitor.
Shiro let his sight pass over the rest of the command crew. They all looked expectant and excited. Like this was what they needed to make real what they had devoted their adulthoods to. The chance to implement their training and learned skills into a single cohesive entity for the purpose of staving off another global cataclysm. Were all looming tragedies endurable only through human selfishness?
But selfish people always changed the world. NERV would be no different. To offer up children for their own continued survival and call themselves heroes for doing so.
The ever-present metal sleeping on his chest weighted until it dragged his eyes down to his feet. His heart beat over the cross. It would not stop.
Protect him, Yui, Shiro thought. Since I didn't protect her.
End of chapter 1
Author notes: meh. Another lukewarm one. Just wanted to see what Misato's pops would be like if he took the easy way out. Self-loathing guilt under a façade of overt geniality. The WTFness of the actual cast is explained under Kadmon's 2nd Law of Fanfiction: "This is fanfiction." If I wanted to stay completely in canon I'd be writing nothing but episode novelizations. Incidentally, the first law is "I am lazy."
But I am trying to get the dirt of a melodramatic ACC off. I hope chapter 2 will make him less Mary Sue-ish. Though I probably could just end everything here. Got the point across. Shiro killed one child to save himself, now he's doing it again. Dramatic irony, blah blah blah. But I really want to write this one little R/S scene I have in my head.
So, next time: Sachiel unsurprisingly gets hurt! Shinji unsurprisingly angsts! Shiro unsurprisingly angsts! Naoko surprisingly swears! Hopefully, a little more depth to Gendo! And I actually try to craft a chapter that isn't nauseatingly long and awkwardly concluded!
To get all that bad taste out of my mouth, here's…
OMAKE
"You have to pilot the Eva to save your mother," Shiro said, looking down at Shinji. "If you don't she will die forever. As opposed to now, when she's only dead for, um, not forever."
The boy struggled not to openly weep like a little girl. Which he had plenty of experience with. Pansy.
"You have to, or else—"
"Shin-chan!"
Shiro and Shinji looked up. Yui was hanging out of the opened plug of Unit-01, offering her son a bright smile and a friendly wave.
"Mother?"
"What the fuck?"
"Yes, I'm back," Yui said cheerfully. "That longwinded speech finally gave me the impetus to get off my three ton ass and do some actual parenting. So, come on, Shin-chan! Who wants to eat an Angel with mommy?"
"I do! I do!" He scampered up to his re-corporeated mother and after a warm hug climbed into the plug with her.
"That's my sweetie pie. Now, let's go!"
Unit-01 activated and skipped off to the lifts. Shiro shrugged.
"Huh. I guess my convoluted reasoning paid off. Super." He strolled out of the cage. "Man, I am so tired of angsting. I really need to get laid. Wonder if that Ibuki girl is seeing anyone."