Episode 4
Side A: Perhaps "Fap Fodder" Is A Bit Strong, But...
It stands to reason that children are our future. Because they seem to be the only ones who can use 'that'.
What 'that' is depends on what is needed and for how little you fear jail time. In the case of the Evangelion units, 'that' is 'crippling emotional issues', but most everyone at NERV has something that would drive a psychiatrist into fits of rapturous glee. Even the lowliest techies are a mass of fursuit-wearing, woman beating, heavy drinking, self-loathing messes. There are no therapists in NERV because no therapists can survive NERV; much like no human can survive skinny-dipping into a star. The closest thing they have to a sane, rational human being's master plan involved fitting the sum total of humanity into a giant robot by turning them into synthetic orange juice.
"That was a good plan and you know it, Fuyutsuki," Yui Ikari huffs, teasing out strands of blue hair. Fuyutsuki walks beside her, fresh off of a series of interaction exercises with decanted spares of Ayanami.
One never knows when she may push her luck too far, and she had many times before. To save time and effort reteaching the girl basic human interaction every time she got a new body, Doctor Akagi and Fuyutsuki decant several bodies and feed them the necessary information. This proved to be more than a pointless exercise once retrieving Yui became a possibility; instead of a childlike semi-retard, the scattered bits of the old girl's soul latched on to a solid, if somewhat warped baseline personality.
Yui and the other bodies having a compulsive urge to call Commander Ikari "Big Daddy Gendo" may or may not be an example of said warping.
"Plans designed at three in the morning while tripping on LSD are not normally considered good after the trip is over," Fuyutsuki says bluntly, rubbing absentmindedly at a welt on his neck. One of the surrogates was far too affectionate for his tastes; she also seemed to be developing a stronger musculature than the rest. This made her hug first, ask questions later nature rather taxing.
"It came to me on the trip, but it still made sense afterward," Yui replies, hands in her labcoat's pockets. "Think about it, the world got destroyed in Second Impact. We're living in a blasted hellscape; the seas are red and the lands are scarred. Mother Earth got ravaged." They round a corner into the EVA hangar, where assorted techs make last minute repairs. "So why not start over somewhere else? We could've lived as a testament to humanity!"
"A life as molecules of liquid is not a life worth living, I'm afraid," says Fuyutsuki, hailing over one of the techs; a small, mousy twenty year old who looks about 14. He sniffs and rubs at his nose; wrinkling up the bandage across the bridge.
"Whaddya want, pops?" the tech says with a slouch, only two seconds out and already annoyed by this lull in action.
"How far along are you on the build timetables?"
The tech snorts, as if offended. "You're kidding, right? We've had Unit 01 fixed up for a few days now and Unit 02's running better than the day she was made."
"Born," Yui coughs.
"And Unit 00?" Fuyutsuki asks, noticing the empty launch space between the purple and red behemoths.
He clicks his tongue. "That. Damn thing still won't boot up on us. We've checked and re-checked the slave OSes, done a full neural scan and flush, we even tried restarting the damn things. It just refuses to work." The tech shrugs, his workman's jumper a size too large for him. "The root OS is weird too, keeps dumping junk data on us, something about an SOS and tomatoes. It tried to kill Suzumiya too."
A bland looking male tech cringes at the mention of his name, reflexively puts his hands over his head.
"...So we had to put it back in the test room, put out an Alighieri protocol on it, and put it back to sleep. Maybe if you put the First back in it."
"That's up to the Commander," Fuyutsuki says, eyes darting between Yui and Unit 01. She stares up at her former home like a daughter dwarfed by her father.
"We'll take care of that later," she says, distracted. "It's not like He Who Comes Fifth is a threat or anything. Shin-chan and his little girlfriend can take care of it."
As if to spite her, warning bells blare throughout NERV headquarters. "All hands, to Level One combat positions. Pattern Blue detected. Repeat. Pattern Blue detected."
"Huh," Yui gasps, snapped out of her reverie. "Guess he heard me."
~!
The figure of Shamshel cuts across the noontide sky, a vision of angelic perfection, if angelic perfection was decided by cockroaches. Or marital aid enthusiasts. Dummy buildings sink and unfurl on a wave of impending mutilation as artillery pieces swivel to bear; a mutual exercise in military-technoarcane penis envy. Tanks roll out the red carpet on gray tarmac for the space invader, as VTOLs buzz in the air like angry bees.
In one of those VTOLs, a frail slip of a girl with stringy black hair and Coke bottle glasses fidgets in her seat, gloved fingers twitching, playing invisible piano keys. A five-point pentacle medal catches the light, adding flair to her drab JSSDF uniform. She looks out at the impending skirmish from under her bangs, butterflies floating in her stomach. The VTOL's radio flickers and hisses, catches snippets of fear, annoyance, and off-key whistling. The frail girl gulps and steels herself, pushes her opening night jitters as far down as she possibly can.
"Atom, this is Cupid," the girl says with practiced seriousness. "I-I'm in position and the puppets are on stage."
In a similar VTOL, callsign Cupid's voice wavers through the speaker system, several dozen decibels softer than the surround sound murder rock blaring through Atom's speakers. If not for her headbanging displacing headphones as well as boyishly cut auburn hair, she may have missed the call completely. The girl taps her palm and holds it up to her mouth.
"Roger that Cupid," she rasps, "Atom here locked, stocked and weapons hot." The music continues to blare, screeching over into Cupid's VTOL.
"Owwww," Cupid squeals, "Turn that off!"
"Whoops," Atom says over the line as she smacks herself in the abdomen. The music skips and hitches, before going dormant.
"Thank you," Cupid sighs.
"Yeah, yeah," Atom says, blasé. "I know how sensitive you are to good music."
"I-it messes with my synchronization," Cupid mumbles, a few unmanned drones righting wobbly flight paths into a tight formation around her VTOL. Her chest begins to glow, casting a muted ruby light over her heart and through her clothes. "You know I need the utmost c-concentration."
"Whatever," Atom huffs, rapping a report on her turret's handles. "We stickin' to the plan?"
Cupid grunts affirmatively, "We're going to hit him hard and fast,"
Atom flashes a toothy grin, already spooling up her adrenaline. "And not give those NERV bastards a chance to get any more smug." She looks out the window, training a finger gun on the insectile Angel. "Don't choke like in the sims."
"A-and don't cause too much collateral damage," Cupid says shyly, smiling to herself. "It comes out of our paychecks. We lose too much, the JSSDF'll own us."
Atom barks out a laugh, which draws another wince from Cupid. "You say it like they don't already do, with the shit they've got us on." The whisper of a sigh begrudgingly confirms her statement.
"It's nice to pretend we have a choice, though," Cupid says, sinking in her seat. The skeleton crew of her VTOL look back to her; turn away when they notice the glowing and her redshifted eyes.
"The illusion of choice is good enough, huh?" Atom asks, targeting data and diagnostic information creeping into her peripheral vision. The focus on her vision gives her pause; makes her cock an eyebrow with realization. "Hey, that thing look like a dildo to you?"
~!
The best part about being a fortress city is that the bars are well stocked, always open, and able to withstand several N2 blasts. They also make good vantage points for watching godlike titans wreck up the place. Nothing quite makes eldritch abominations make sense like the soothing buzz of alcohol and dim lights.
It is here we find one Shiro Tokita: chief executive of the JA Project and on-again, off-again alcoholic, doing two of the only things that bring him joy in this world: drinking...
"Hey baby, wanna play Math?" he says to the nearest female patron attractive enough to be the target of amorous advances; an absolutely run-of-the-mill girl nursing a Martini.
"What?"
"It's where we add a bed, subtract our clothes, I divide your legs and then we multiply."
...and casual chauvinism. Alcohol has a great many pleasant uses; acting as an eyewash is not one of them, as Tokita swiftly learns. He clutches his face and shrieks like a little girl; the apple of his eye storming away in a huff. He wipes the liquor off his face; what he says when his eyes regain focus makes him wish he were still blinded.
"Oh look, it's Jaymuzu Bondo," he spits, turning away from the ever smirking face of Ryoji Kaji. He turns away because if he had to look at that smug bastard for too long, words wouldn't be the only thing he'd spit.
"Always saw myself as more of an 'Our Man Flint' sort of fellow, but the sentiment is appreciated," he says airily, taking a seat next to him at the bar. "I hope your projects are going better than your love life."
Tokita lets out a humorless laugh, takes a slug of his nameless mixed drink. "Things are going as planned, no thanks to you."
Kaji raises his palms out in a defensive manner. "I'm cooking up something special for you; for all of you."
"It better be," Tokita retorts, "Do you realize how much money is up for grabs with this project? We can [i]not[/i] fuck this up and for us to not fuck this up, [i]you[/i] can't be fucking around."
"I can assure you, fucking is the last thing on my mind," Kaji chuckles. The bartender slides Kaji a Martini; stirred, not shaken. He stirs his drink without thinking, the roar of military might drawing his eyes upwards and outwards.
"Are you sure about sending the girls out on this mission?"
Tokita drains his drink and sets it down, the clank voicing annoyance in his stead. "Look, I know your heart bleeds for anything with a vagina, but we know what we're doing here." His voice drops into a coarse whisper. "Kirishima and Yamagishi are our best men-"
"Women."
"Our best men given the parameters. If they succeed here, then we look fucking fabulous rolling into the unveiling." He flips open a sleek portable device, the contents making a smirk creep onto his face. " It's not like the only thing we're aiming to sell here is a giant robot."
Side B: Technodildo
Another day, another massive metropolitan cataclysm.
Between the nuclear threats, psychic experiments gone rogue, mutated rampaging lizards with hearts of gold, and Rei Ayanami's comeback tour, the citizens of New Municipal City Neo Tokyo-3 were used to tucking their tails between their legs and running underground. The percussion of explosions and ratatat of heavy ordinance acted as marching drums for the people of the beleaguered burgh. Soothing newscaster voices say stock nothings to stock footage on the shelter screens as the herd of humanity moves in.
"Aw man, why won't they let us see the fight?" Kensuke grumbles. "It's not like we're unused to alien warfare."
"Geez, Kensuke, you need to get laid," Touji sighs, having heard this argument umpteen times before. "You wouldn't be so eager to die if you got to die the little death once in a while, ya know?"
"When did you become the sexpert," Kensuke bites back. "It's not like you've seeing anybody other than Palms-sama lately."
"Don't shoot the messenger," he replies, catching Hikari wave him over in the corner of his eye. "Besides, what'd be the point of going out there without any sort of protection?"
"Going where, Suzuhara?" she says, innocently. He recoils, caught off guard by the speed at which she closed. "It wouldn't be to do anything stupid, would it?"
He laughs her off. "Of course not! We," he says glaring at Kensuke as if he revived the Devil Gundam with the help of Kyoji, "Were just, uh, going to the bathroom!" Kensuke looks at him funny, but an elbow to the ribs gets him to play along.
Hikari perks up, puts a thoughtful finger on her lips. "Oh, so you were going to the bathroom, but needed protection to do so? I never expected you two to be like that." She flashes a guilefully guileless smile. "Oh, go ahead, go ahead."
"It's not like that at all!" Touji screams, flailing back with such force his erstwhile companion has to duck so he doesn't get knocked to the floor. "Me and Kensuke ain't no punks!"
"Yeah!" Kensuke stutters in assent.
Hikari moans in disappointment, "Too bad, that would've been interesting." She leans in close, drops her voice to a husky whisper. "So where exactly are you going, then?"
"Don't give in to the poon," Kensuke hisses in his ear. "Remember man, bros before-" his male slogan is cut off by a swift double kick to the shin. He hobbles back, wincing in pain. "Judas!"
"If Aida's so adamant about it, it must have something really stupid and technowanky," Hikari posits. She steps back, set in the pout of the determined ingenue. "...I want in."
Kensuke stamps his foot in indignation. "Absolutely not! You're just going to narc on us!"
"What do you mean 'we', white man?"
"What do you mean, 'what do you mean'?" Kensuke blurts, near to tears. "This is a man's romance, we're dealing with here! Don't you want to see the clash of titans once before you die?"
"Saw it already," Touji says, picking out his ears, "Terrible movie."
"A man's romance, you say?" Hikari says, interested, "I think Aida's trying to tell you something." She turns to look at one of the television screens, so as to hide her growing blush. "It's a shame you're so dense, Suzuhara."
"An' what's that supposed to mean, Class Rep?"
"It means let's go already," Kensuke says, draping his arm around Touji, camera in hand. His glasses glint white and his voice goes cold. "I'm going out whether you come with me or not man, and that's final." The air around him gets heavy, thick with tension..
"...Alright, alright, geez," he shrugs, working out his shoulder. "I'll go. Don't want you haunting me if you get your fool ass killed."
Kensuke turns practically incandescent with glee. "Alright! I knew you wouldn't let me down!"
"And I'll go with you," Hikari says with a shrug, "It's the Class Rep's duty to watch over her students."
"What part of 'no' are you having trouble understanding, Class Rep?" Kensuke snarks.
"The part where I tell the nice guards with their shiny new restraints about what you're going to do," Hikari says sweetly. He sweats and shoves his glasses back onto his face, glares at her, then sags, defeated.
"Alright, you can come with," he mutters.
"Wonderful. Now let's go to the bathroom."
~!
As is traditional for giant monster attacks, the JSSDF threw pretty much everything they had at Shamshel: bullets whizzed, mortar shells flew, and missiles danced in an Itano Circus. Callsign Atom, skull-heart headphones firmly affixed to her head, sprayed death like a firehose in time to pumping double bass. The VTOL crew flew circles around the currently fifth Angel; hoping that not beauty would kill this beast, but a sixteen year old with a swivel mounted chaingun. Their hopes seemed to be unfounded, as shot after shot struck air like bulletproof glass.
"Cupid, we're not getting anywhere here," Atom growls over her personal communicator. "Where's that saturation fire?"
"I'm t-t-trying!" Cupid chokes, a thin trickle of blood coming from her nose. She closes her eyes, red irises getting scribbled over with black. "If I go too far, I'll, I'll overflow."
With a sweep of her hand, a wing of VTOLS swing over Shamshel's head, peppering it with small arms fire. It reacts to this like one would react to an unexpected spray of water from on high; it swats in its general direction. Unlike you or I, it has monomolecular whip-tentacles for hands; so when it swipes, things tend to get split in half. A VTOL goes down and Cupid pulls back a hand, as if she touched something hot. She suckles on the hurt hand and thrusts out her other one, sending the slaved VTOLs into a dispersal formation around the Angel.
"That really hurt," she whimpers.
"Tch, lightweight," Atom growls as her vehicle takes a steep bank; with a roar she unloads a scything burst down the length of the offending tentacle. "This may be Japan but we don't play like that!" A hit or two rings true, causing splashes of very red blood to fly from what looked like a beam of light. Ignoring the scientific strangeness, Atom redoubles her efforts, emboldened by drawing first blood.
"Good shot Atom," Cupid says shakily, "Its tentacles are unprotected by the Field, so we just need to draw them out more."
"No shit!" she barks, firing more controlled bursts at the beast's appendages. It seems to have sensed this, as the formerly docile Angel goes onto the offensive; tentacles moving like a blur. Things slow down behind Atom's eyes, as the implants go into high-speed shutter mode. Even with the ratcheted up settings, hitting a small moving target with a chaingun is akin to trying to hit a single blade of grass with a bullet train.
"Stand still you asshole," Atom says, gritting her teeth, one eye closed for better aim and power efficiency. She scores a few more glancing blows, but not enough to slow the monster down. "Shit! I'm getting nowhere here! We've got to take out the AT-Field!"
"I'm working on it, I'm working on it," Cupid says, blood coming from both nostrils. Her chest glows an angry red as the remaining slave VTOLs snap to attention. "But I don't have anything strong enough to punch through that Field."
"Can't you just make it go away or something?"
"I could, but I'd h-have to strip naked and be right on top of it," she says, biting her lip. "And it'd probably kill me. And it'd just be a man-sized hole, if that." She sighs, her ride shaking violently as it nearly misses getting cleaved in twain.
"That's no excuse, Cupid," Atom says sternly, cursing at the click of an empty spooling barrel. "You should be happy to throw your life away for two things: what are they?"
"T-the mission,"
"The mission, and?" Atom asks, egging on her crew to get close to Cupid's VTOL.
"And...and..." Cupid pushes her fingers together, which sends two dummy ships to fiery ends against the hide of Shamshel.
"And being awesome!" Atom cries, pitching herself out one aircraft and into Cupid's. "Now shove over, we've got killin' to do." With a full clip and a belly full of fire, Callsign Atom drills fresh ammunition into the belly of the beast. The vibration and her roars of challenge send Cupid off balance, makes her lose control of a VTOL for just long enough to crash into Shamshel's Field and break through.
"You saw that, right Cupid?" Atom shouts over the din of gunfire.
Cupid nods, brushing brackish orange blood from her nose. "Yeah. But I only have one more dummy, and I'm feeling kind of Tangy."
"Well we'll just have to make this one count, eh Yumi?" Atom says, baring teeth.
"You know I don't like that nickname, Kirishima," Cupid pouts.
"Fine then, Mayumi," Atom nee Mana Kirishima teases.
Mayumi Yamagishi, Callsign Cupid, gives a quivering little smile back. "Tha-that'll do."
"Alright then, let's blow this fucker away!" Kirishima whoops, smacking a fist against her palm. Mayumi grunts affirmative, red eyes blazing, chest glowing like a neon sign. With twin roars of fury the girls launch forward; the final slave VTOL detonating against Shamshel's AT-Field as a near full clip of chaingun ammo is emptied into its fleshy underbelly. It warbles in pain and lashes out; dumb and angry, before collapsing against a building.
"Heh, that wasn't so bad at all," Mana laughs as she flips the horizon the bird. "Suck it dildo-face and suck it NERV!" She laughs some more and flips her headphones back on; electric guitars acting as victorious trumpets. "Alright boys, take us home."
Mayumi looks out the window, panics, and tugs on Mana's sleeve. "Uh, A-Atom?"
"What?"
"Remember that time we played Uncle and you kinda t-tore off my arm but it grew back?"
Mana snorts, "Yeah, that was fucking metal."
Mayumi directs her to the window, where what once were bloody gashes have become bubbling growths of rapidly healing flesh. "Well, the Angel can do that too, b-but super hard."
"Oh," she says flatly, face falling. "Well, fuck."
As is traditional for giant monster attacks, the JSSDF's first wave is ultimately futile. Don't be sad, it happens to lots of military-industrial constructs.
~!
"Well, that went about as well as you'd expect," Misato says, watching the last ditch attack and subsequent hasty retreat of the JSSDF's hyper new stars on NERV's main monitor. She sighs and pulls up an empty chair besides Ritsuko and Maya. "So, any words of wisdom for our erstwhile competitors?"
"It's not like they can hear me, but," Ritsuko says, fingers flying over her computer's keyboard. "I'd say, leave the giant monster killing to the giant monsters."
Misato leans over her chair, mildly confused. "You mean, giant robots?"
"What did I say?"
"Giant monsters."
"Ah. My mistake," Ritsuko says, not taking her eyes off of the screen. Misato gives her a strange look, but shakes it off to put her game face on. Split screen shots of the Entry Plugs display on the main screen; Children numbers two and three set up in plug suit finery.
"You two feeling alright in there?" Misato asks.
"Their biorythmic readouts are green, Operations Director," Maya adds, helpfully.
"That's not what I meant," Misato snaps, drawing a mousy eep from Ritsuko's number two. "So, the two people in the giant walking death machines, how are you feeling?"
"Like I'm in somebody's anti-depressant nightmare," Shinji mutters as the LCL ionizes clear, nose deep in "So You Bought an Abomination: A Guide to your First Evangelion".
"Always with the complaints, Third," says Asuka, rolling her eyes, "Can't you go three seconds without sucking with the sum total of your being?"
"I don't know Asuka," Shinji says calmly, cycling back and forth through the basic control sections. "Can you say something nice to me without any sort of backhanded barb?"
"Have your lover's spat later Children," Misato says testily, teeth grinding. "Status report."
Shinji gulps and bows his head, "Right. Nothing's screaming at me and there aren't any flashing red lights, so I think everything's okay."
"Good enough. Asuka?"
"Controls are well-oiled, LCL ionization is stable, and Unit 02's biometrics are a-OK," she says, running her fingers along the contours of the butterfly controls. "So at least one of us is ready to rock."
"Excellent," says Misato, rapping her fist atop her palm. "Now, here's the gameplan. Unit 01 will deploy from Gate 14, which'll put it right behind the Angel's current position. There, you will find an armory with a Pallet Rifle and a minigun. Unit 02 will launch from Gate 6 shortly thereafter; the Sonic Javelin and a Pallet Rifle are deployed in the adjacent armory. From there, you two will flank the Angel, take aim for it's glowing red weak point, and crush it between your mighty pincers!"
"Hey, how come the Third gets to launch first?"
"Because he's going to act as a diversion."
"Wunderbar," Asuka says with a smirk, "Probably the only thing he'll be good at." Shinji just shrugs and lays back in his seat.
"Sound simple enough, right?" Misato says cheerily, "Good. Oh, and Asuka, the Smash Hawk is installed in your left pauldron instead of an extra Prog Knife."
"This just keeps getting better and better, I can almost get over the fact my first Tokyo gig is a duet with Kira Yamato over here." She tsks and pouts at Shinji, "I'd rather work with Puru; at least she'd make a good meat shield."
"Ehehe, yeah, that." Misato looks over to Ritsuko for otaku to Japanese translation, "Ritzy, what does that mean?" she whispers to her.
"What are you looking at me for?" Ritsuko says dryly, "Not all mecha lab technicians are mecha junkies as well."
"Um, Major," Makoto Hyuga pipes in, "She basically called the Third Child a bitch. And said the First was a-"
"Purely fanservice based entity for pedophiles," Ritsuko interjects, in order to save some semblance of military security.
Misato points an accusatory finger, "I knew it! That's why they 'leaked' those photos of Rei in the prototype plug suit designs!" It takes a monumental effort of will to keep Ritsuko from slamming her head into the desk.
"Just begin the damn operation, Misato."
Misato snaps to, as if remembering her point in the story. "Oh, right. Launch Evangelions 01 and 02! Begin the operation!"
~!
"Oh man, isn't this awesome?" Kensuke says as he clears the crest of his vantage point, the camera basically glued onto his face with exuberance.
"I guess," Touji mumbles, trying to keep his footing on the rough ground. He pokes his head up just in time to cast it aside at the launch of Unit 01.
"I just hope that Shinji doesn't mess this up," Kensuke says, casting a sideways glance while still somehow keeping transfixed on the ensuing battle. "It'd be a shame if we all died because of a certain someone crushing his self-esteem."
Touji palms face and groans, suddenly reminded of his revenge's breakdown. "Aw man, I keep telling you that stuff puts hairs on your chest."
"So when Asuka made you humble?"
"...Shut up."
"Hey guys," Hikari asks, pointing at the red and black mecha launching, "I thought we only had one working mecha." The two boys clamber over her to take a gander at the new challenger.
"Holyshitthat'scool," Kensuke gawks, glasses fogging up with delight.
"I'd like to meet the pilot of that thing," Touji says reverentially, "That's a real man's machine."
~!
The first thing Shamshel notices is a set of two souls burning almost as bright as its own; much greater than the flickering candle in the Lilim's toys. The second thing it notices is yet more heavy ordinance ringing against it. The third thing it notices is that the AT-Field doesn't seem to be working as well as it should.
"Choke on my tungsten bukkake, dickface!" Shinji yells, having caught a bad case of buck fever with a minigun that wouldn't be out of place with a Russian girl's name. Smoke and dust blossom over the Angel; obscuring its form in no time flat. Spent shells the size of SUVs clatter onto the ground, gouging concrete and crushing cars.
"The hell are you doing, idiot?" Asuka yells, taking cover behind the Sonic Javelin's armory. "I can't see shit!"
The idiot in question roars and laughs over his teammate's complaints, answering her grievances with more bullets. The gun runs dead; the bark of ammunition turning into the whine of an empty clip. He pants like a beast, eyes wild with excitement, the fading adrenaline softening his features.
"I...I did it!"
A double shot of electrified tentacles says otherwise and sends him on the backswing; the smoke making targeting center mass near impossible.
"Yeah, stupid," Asuka says, peeling Unit 02 out from it's cover position. "You really fucking did it this time." It breaks into a sprint and tackles Shamshel through the smoke. "This is how you engage with the enem-WAAAAAH!" Her momentum pushes Shamshel into Unit 01, which knocks it down and sends 02 up and over the Angel.
Thinking quickly, but not quickly enough, Shinji deploys a Prog Knife and stabs; the blade bouncing off an AT-Field at full force. He tries a few more times, because if at first you don't succeed, that means do it in the exact same manner. The techo-organo-dildo moves onwards, floating towards the prone Unit 02 with a halo made of AT-fuckery.
"That could've gone better," says Asuka, pulling Unit 02 into a kip-up. "Let's dance, bugbrain!" She deploys the Smash Hawk and charges forward; one hand neutralizing while the other winds up a sweeping slash. "Eva Tomahawk!" It scores a glancing blow, and gets a one two tentacle in response.
"I've got you, Asuka!" Shinji cries out over the commlink, spraying tight, controlled bursts from the Pallet Rifle. He centers the target, pulls the trigger, and doesn't take note of the strafing maneuver Shamshel performs. The bullets ricochet off of Unit 02's armor; the momentary confusion dropping her AT-Field.
"Watch where you're shooting!" she shouts, whipping her Smash Hawk at the bogey. "Tomahawk Boomerang!"
It gets caught by a tentacle and redirected right at Unit 02's neck. She ducks it and goes into another charge, aiming for a rising uppercut. On the other end, Unit 01 charges in with more Pallet Rifle fire, attempting to provide proper suppressive fire. He doesn't hit Asuka this time; it's Asuka who hits him with a gentlemanly Dash Upper as Shamshel propels itself upwards like a AT-Field powered rocket. The force of the blow sends Unit 01 flying into an outlying mountain, severing its connection with the Umbilical Cable. The Angel lazily floats after it in hot pursuit.
And Kensuke gets it all on tape, recording what may serve to be the last few moments of his life.
~!
"GOD-!" Shinji finishes his prayer to whatever deity was listening moments before he crashes into the mountain.
"MY-!" Kensuke cries as he almost dashes his prized camera against the rocks below, oblivious to his possible demise.
"Ohhh crap..." Asuka says, pitching Unit 02 forward to retrieve the target she inadvertently created.
~!
"Civilian ID confirmed," Maya says, as three dossiers flash on the main screen. "Suzuhara, Touji. Aida, Kensuke. Horaki, Hikari. All three students of Class 2-A, sempai."
Oh, son of a bitch!" Misato tears the headpiece off her ear, for easier screaming. "Shinji, Asuka, retrieve the civilians!"
"The what?" Shinji stammers, eyes darting around the cockpit. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Touji, Kensuke, and Hikari clutching each other and trembling like leaves in the wind. A lance of cold shock runs through him; without thought he grabs onto Shamshel's tentacles. The plasma burns through the hand's armor plating, makes Unit 01's skin sizzle like cheap steak.
"I protest the allowing of unauthorized civilians into the entry plug," Ritsuko says, actually turning to face Misato. "The addition of so much background noise will wreak havoc on Unit 01's ability to sync."
Misato stands firm. "Well I'm authorizing it."
"Are you trying to pull rank on me, Major?"
"This is my element, Ritsuko; unless overridden by the Commander, I'm in control here." They stare at each other for a tense moment, grunts of exertion and pain outside adding urgency to the proceedings.
"External power, three minutes remaining," says Shigeru Aoba, forcing a cross of the Rubicon. Misato pleads silently, to which Ritsuko gives a defeated nod.
"Shinji, Asuka, open hatches. Switch over to auto mode."
"What are we, a taxi service?"
Misato's voice goes hard. "That's an order, Second Child." She backs down, recoiling slightly at a tone of voice she hadn't heard for years. The "Asuka's been a bad girl" voice. The "Asuka's disappointed somebody" voice.
Asuka didn't like that voice, not one bit.
"Alright, alright," she says, missing her earlier bite, "Fine." The Entry Plugs deploy in tandem, as wire stepladders descend from a spool at the tip. She leans out the side of the plug, "But I'm not picking up the nerd or the meathead."
Hikari points to herself, 'I'm neither a nerd or a meathead, so I guess she means me."
Touji blanches like he's seen a ghost. "Y-y-you're the pilot of the red mecha?"
"Of course," Asuka says, keeping the stepladder straight for Hikari to climb on. "What are you, stupid?"
"It makes sense that someone like you would have a red mecha," Touji grumbles as Kensuke squees.
"I know, right? Such an elegant color suits her!"
Touji grabs Kensuke on the crown of the head and grinds. "What happened to bros before hos?"
The two amigos pile into Shinji's cockpit and the plug shunts back into Unit 01's neck. The LCL re-ionizes, drawing gasps and burbles from the civilians. They gum like fishes, cough and sputter as the machine soul compensates for their presence.
"This some kind of sick joke?"
"Gekiganger III lied to me!"
"Third Child, do you still have the connection?" Ritsuko asks, watching the sync numbers skip and fluctuate. He nods, face set in determination. To show this fact, he pulls Shamshel by the tentacles and boots it right in the chest; sends it skidding down the mountain end over end.
"Asuka, Shinji, are the civilians alright?" They respond affirmative, and Misato relaxes, a weight off her shoulders. She rights herself into a cocksure standstill strut. "Okay, let's try this from a different angle; both of you retreat to the nearest shelter, drop off the civs and reflank."
Asuka rolls her eyes, "Roger that. C'mon Third, we're doing your favorite thing."
There's no response. Unit 01 flexes disturbingly human hands.
She puffs up her cheeks and leans over her controls. "Stupid Shinji, we're blowing this joint."
Metered muttering, vaguely intelligible. It pops a Prog Knife and wields it.
She raps on the side of her screen with Shinji's feed on it. "Earth to Stupid Shinji! Hello?"
"Imustn'trunawayImustn'trunaway." Touji and Kensuke stare at him dumbly.
She rocks back, her annoyance turning into confusion and worry. "You okay, Shinji?"
"I MUSTN'T RUN AWAY!" Unit 01 dashes down the mountain towards the Angelic figure, both man and machine all but foaming at the mouth.
"Oh shit!" Unit 02, already halfway down the mountain and away from the fight, cuts a hard right and swings around to the back, Prog Knife already in hand.
Shinji's guttural screams provide in-fight music as his machine's power ticks down with frenzied speed. His vision is red, focused to laser points on the enemy. Nothing else exists, nothing else needs to exist, just the point of his blade and that shiny red bauble in its chest. Shamshel runs him through, stopping the advance in one fell swoop, and time stands still.
"Oh god..." Misato gapes.
"It must have been the extra parameters," Ritsuko shakes her head; she should have known the Third wasn't ready for this kind of work after the last test.
"Shinji, you IDIOT!" Asuka yells, pivoting to bring all the force she can to bear on the edge of her unit's Prog Knife. She lashes out with snake's speed to drive her boxcutter blade into the spine of Shamshel. It punches through the Field and strikes true, causing the Angel to spasm its appendages deeper through Unit 01.
The added shock serves to wake Shinji up; he looks over at the minute of power he has, then at the core just out of reach. He puts two and two together and grabs a fistful of tentacle; dragging more searing electric pain through his shared abdomen. With one last, desperate yelp, he thrusts the knife right into the center of Shamshel's core; both hands pushing with all the strength they both can muster. The pain is intense; he sees stars in his vision and almost passes out. The clock winds down, second by agonizing second; the mission hanging on by a thread.
The timer strikes zero.
The core splits in two.
The Third Child starts to sob.
The Fifth Angel goes silent, breathing its last locked in a deadly embrace.