Gendou Ikari sat at his desk in the pitch black room, his loyal assistant at his side, with his hands clasped together in his trade mark style. In front of him float a series of black screen numbered one through eight that represent the various members of the United Nations sub-committee known only as SEELE. For now the screens showed only the words "Sound Only,"representative of the fact that those pulling NERV's strings from behind the scenes were busy elsewhere.

"Commander Ikari, do you really think it wise to report to SEELE when we barely have anything new to go on since we last talked to them?" Fuyutsuki asked in a whisper as if to avoid the ever-present eyes and ears of their distant masters.

"There will be no problem," Gendou coolly replied. "The more in control those old fools believe themselves to be, the easier things will be on our end."

Gendou smiled from behind his trademark pose, a sure sign that his speaking in such absolutes was backed by a good measure of planning, spying, and other back-room dealings.

As the older man's smile disappeared whence it came, the monitors hanging all around him whirred to life with a loud hissing noise. As the sound died down, the image of eight old men sitting at a large table sprang into existences in the dark room. Varying in nationality and age, they were all part of SEELE, a U.N. council created to oversee NERV's efforts to save humankind from the horror of the Angels.

"Greetings. I assume you've all been well?" Gendou asked in his usual tone.

"Cut the small talk, Ikari. We want a full report of what you and the rest of NERV have been up to, and we'd like you to make it quick," one member of the council snapped in a nasal and slightly angry voice.

"I would like to assure you that all is going according to the scenario portrayed in the Dead Sea Scrolls," Gendou calmly retorted. "The Eva are working properly, and we have two additional pilots slated to arrive within the month. Everything is as it should be."

Gendou was supremely confident. He had long ago become used to sparring with the members of the SEELE council for the sake of NERV and its budget. The better he could convince them that everything was as it should be, the easier it was for him and the rest of NERV to act without the restraint and oversight of people who knew precious little of their internal affairs.

"Very good, Ikari. But the matter of the 'Children of Adam' still stands. Have you learned anything concerning these anomalies? " an aged German man in his mid 60s spoke from the head of the long table.

"We know roughly as much about them as you do, Chairmen Keel – that of course being that these mutations have only began appearing following the Second Impact, and the fact that the infection affects roughly a third of all births. Our research department has suggested to me that the best way to handle all this is to study the Angels themselves, and, with the retrieval of the body of the Fourth Angel, we should have no problem carrying out such research in the future."

In reality there was far more known about the so-called "Children of Adam" then the Commander of NERV let on. There was simply no reason to reveal all of it to the council just yet. Gendou was never one to outright lie to others; rather, he tended to rely on the sin of omission to achieve his goals. What a person didn't know rarely hurt them after all.

"I expect a full report on all related research once it has been completed. If that is all you have to report, Ikari, I feel the time has come to end our little chat," the old visored chairman spoke gruffly.

"Of course, I look forward to our next meeting, Chairman."

The monitors soon flickered out, returning to displaying a black screen – the meeting was over, and the Commander of NERV had once more triumphed over his would-be masters, ever so small a victory it may have been.

"That should keep the Chairman busy for awhile," Gendou spoke plainly.

"I imagine it will. But the problem remains that the we still know next to nothing about those poor children even with all the data we've gathered from studying the First Child," Fuyutsuki said in a whisper.

"There is no need to worry; we will soon have all the information we could possibly want on the subject," Gendou replied, once more smiling his trademark self-assured smile.

Shinji Ikari had come to Tokyo-3 upon his father's request to pilot Evangelion Unit-01 and help to stave off the assault of the monstrous creatures known as Angels. Since then, he had fought two of the strange beasts, and had, through all the anguish and mental pain, found something of a role for himself within the hierarchy of NERV.

His position outside the organization, however, was less then stellar. With few friends and a "social life" that revolved mostly around talking to Misato after school as she drank herself into a stupor every night, Shinji was a sad soul bound by his past and imprisoned in a cage of his own issues. Every night he would swear that his problems were caused by people other then himself, but, sometimes, even the saddest of people are happy for a short while.

It was four PM, and school had just let out as dozens of middle-school students spilled into the street, discussing matters of tests, romance, and the strange monsters that had been targeting the city as of late. As members of the throng walked side-by-side with their friends, Shinji walked home alone, a sullen look plastered across a face and his ever present tape player plugged firmly into his ears, drowning out the outside world with an endless repetition of a few songs set on an eternal loop.

As he walked down the street towards home, his gaze fixed firmly on the pavement below, a flutter of pure white feather wafted around him from on high. Normally he would have ignored such a sight and attribute it to a seagull or some similar bird flying over head, but Tokyo-3's artificial environs rarely played host to such animals – few places on Earth did after the Second Impact – and the size of the feathers were far to large to belong to any normal bird.

It was enough for the youth to ignore his instinct to simply go home, but Shinji instead craned his head skyward in the direction from which the snow-white feathers rained. They seemed to be falling from the school's rooftop where a distant figure stood on the roof's edge, her gaze fixed firmly on the cloudy skies above.

"Ayanami...?" Shinji murmured to himself.

He didn't know all that much about the mysterious pilot of Eva Unit-00, but she always seemed oddly familiar, like someone he had known years ago but whose name he had forgotten.

Heading back to school and making his way up the winding stairs that led to the roof, Shinji soon found himself in Rei's stoic company. Now closer, he could see that she that her white wings were hoisted towards the sky as if something up there lay just outside her reach.

It was from those wings that several feathers fell from her impressive wingspan and rode the winds to the ground below. Though she seemed unaffected by the loss of the feathers, their flight through the air seemed to bring a sullen expression to the young bird-girl's pale face.

Unable to stand to see an acquaintance look so sad, Shinji slowly approached Rei's position. So engrossed by her own issues, the winged pilot didn't notice Shinji at all until he stood directly behind her.

"Ikari-kun... Why are you here?" she asked without turning around.

"I saw you standing up here by yourself, so I thought I'd come and see if everything was OK..." Shinji spoke nervously. He had never been good at speaking with other people, but his words rang with genuine concern about Rei's well-being.

"I'm fine... I just like being up here where I'm close to the sky." Rei finally turned around and spoke in her usual stoic fashion.

"Close to the sky...?" Shinji questioned, strangely confused by Rei's words.

"Yes, it makes me feel better. And, someday... Someday, I wish to fly."

Shinji stood in confused silence for a long moment. When he had lived with his teacher, he had little exposure to those like Rei who had been since birth afflicted with the strange sickness borne of the Second Impact. But upon coming to Tokyo-3, he had found himself surrounded by them. It was a strange feeling that had made him feel even more alone then usual. But Rei was a different matter; Rei was his friend, more or less, and she had nearly gotten herself killed several times over in his defense. No matter how strange she looked or acted, he just couldn't abandon her when she looked so very sad.

"Can't you just take an airplane or something?" Shinji asked perplexedly.

"No. I wish to fly under my own power," Rei replied. "I was given these wings, but not the power to use them. It makes me... sad."

Rei appeared as if she wished to cry, but in the end she seemed to have decided against such a blatant show of emotion.

"I mean, maybe with some practice you'll be able to someday," Shinji spoke in an attempt at reassurance.

"I've tried for a very long time. I don't think it is possible for a human to fly."

"Maybe you just need a little help..." Shinji thought for a moment. "I know! I could help you. You're always helping me... so think of it as me paying you pack for all the stuff you've done for me."

Shinji quickly realized the hypocrisy of his offer of help. Aside from piloting the Eva, he had never really done anything for anyone else in his entire life. But he couldn't just leave Rei alone...

"Possibly. I will speak to you again the next time I attempt flight."

"All right! Um...I'll see you tomorrow then?" Shinji returned to his usual awkward self in short order.

Rei nodded and hopped down from her rooftop ledge, like one may expect a small bird to leave its perch.

"I will see you tomorrow, Ikari-kun."

Rei walked past Shinji without another word, leaving her fellow pilot to wonder what exactly he had just agreed to do .