Grimoire: Nerv

Out of the Faction Crisis, Nerv emerged as one of the most prominent, guided by a single and inclusive tenet: "As the nervous system coordinates all parts of a single body, so shall Nerv do for humanity." With a focus on stability and unity, Nerv is dedicated to the continued fortification of the City, sponsorship of the sciences, and technological innovation for the military forces of the Guardian Orders.

Pre-Collapse historians consider their choice of name as a clear reference to the paramilitary organization NERV, which fought the Ahamkara during the Cataclysm using the mythical weapon known only as 'Evangelion'. That Nerv prizes any relics of its ancient namesake only further supports this view.

xxxx

/One Hour after the Mission Report/

"Keep up the pace, Shinji-kun!"

It was almost...nostalgic, how Misato quickly took command of things, a proverbial tornado of action and will. Back...before...it had been simple to follow her lead. She had made it easy.

("Of course, we've got to do it flamboyantly, eh?" His confused expression prompted the woman to elaborate. "A welcome party for my new roommate, of course!")

Apparently, her forceful personality had not changed a bit.

So Shinji quietly and dutifully followed Misato as she led him further into City, teeming with people of all sizes and races. He idly noticed a few people gawk at the purple-haired woman as they moved forward, signs of recognition, of fame, of...adoration. Misato was a recognizable figure to some of these people. I...I wonder what she's been up to.

'You can always ask her.'

I know, but...it seems odd. In the grand scheme of things, Misato had always initiated...well, almost everything. Just up and asking about her past, what she had been up to...it seemed rude.

'Why would it be rude?'

I...I don't know! It just would!

'...that's silly. You're being silly.'

The young Hunter huffed. I am not.

'Yes you are.'

"Here we are!"

Misato's shout interrupted Shinji's internal musing, prompting him to look up. The sight made his eyes widen. "...whoa."

Amidst a cluster of high-rise skyscrapers, a large clearing was home to a multi-storied, open-aired pavilion. On each floor were rows and rows of stands and kiosks, with a seemingly endless array of merchants hawking their wares. It was loud, and active, and lively. With a jaunty grin, Misato said, "Welcome to the Bazaar, Shinji-kun. Follow me!"

"Oh. Okay." He warily followed her, her purple hair still a distinctive sight amidst the teeming crowds. "Where...where are we going?"

"You'll see!"

After over ten minutes making their way through the masses and ascending two flights of stars, they finally arrived at their destination. Shinji stared dumbly at the old-fashioned curtain, the wooden stools, and the stoves beyond the main countertop. "A...a ramen stand!"

Misato glanced knowingly at her former charge. "If I could make a guess...I'd say that, between missions, you never left your quarters at the Tower. Right?"

"...how-?"

"You're a creature of habit, Shinji-kun. You never were one for trying out new things if you didn't have to." Her smile was...distinctly melancholy. "Well...what are we waiting for?" She forcefully nudged him through the curtain, prompting him to sit down on an empty stool. As Misato sat down beside him, she called out, "Yoshi-san! Two of my usual!"

The chef - an Exo forged of green and orange metal - nodded, muttering old Japanese to himself as he poured two large bowls full of broth, mixing in tender noodles, steamed vegetables, and fried fish. In less than two minutes, a pair of large, steaming bowls were placed in front of Misato and Shinji. The latter looked quietly at the noodle soup, feeling an odd hunger stir within him.

Glancing briefly at Misato, he noted that her smile was warmer now. "Well...dig in. Itadakimasu!" exclaimed the Iron Lady, splitting her chopsticks apart.

"...yeah." The snapping of chopsticks, the smell of noodles and warm broth, the small and intimate atmosphere...it was achingly familiar. So much so that he subconsciously mimicked Misato's motions, quietly saying, "Itadakimasu." Crack, went the wooden utensils, and Shinji partook of the of noodles with a practiced, familiar slurp. It was...nice.

And so the two Hunters ate in contented silence.

As Shinji slowly ate, he listened quietly to the ambience of the Bazaar: the pitter-patter of feet and boots; the discordant chatter of different languages, somehow forming a harmony of speech and will; strangely, despite the unfamiliar words and unusual cadences, the meaning was plain to him.

'You're welcome.'

...oh. So this was another part of being a Guardian? Being able to understand the spoken word, regardless of the language?

'Only if the language is local to Earth and was originally native to the mind of a humanoid creature tethered to a human soul.'

...eh?!

'It's complicated.'

Shinji took Yui's word for it. He quietly glanced at Misato, who was downing the remaining broth in her bowl with gusto. The sheer volume of her slurping seemed to please the synthetic chef, judging by the saké jar and aged porcelain cups that the Exo passed over the counter. "Ah...nothing like a good meal!" The woman slowly poured the rice wine into one of the cups, raising it in a jovial manner. "Cheers! To old friends!"

As Misato began drinking her alcohol (what a familiar scene, he privately mused), Shinji couldn't help but smile. "Huh...friends..."

"Yep!" The woman grinned widely. "After all, it's not like I'm your commanding officer anymore."

"But...everyone looked at you like...someone important." Even the Vanguard had seemed to treat her with a sense of subconscious respect.

Misato's cheeks puffed out, visibly pouting. "What, you think I'm not important?"

"Um, I mean-!" stuttered the younger Hunter. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-!"

"Heh, I'm just joking." She looked warmly at him, a strange intensity to her gaze. "Still the same ol' Shinji-kun."

"Misato-san!" protested Shinji, trying to fight down his embarrassment. Really, it was like she hadn't changed at all!

'Are you sure?'

...only, that wasn't quite the case, was it. She had changed, as had he, if only by virtue of their status as Guardians. "Misato-san...how long...how long has it been, for you?"

The woman's expression dimmed, a certain heaviness settling over her. "Ah...that's a good question." Sighing, she raised her arms over her head, working out the kinks. "It's been a few centuries, at least. Due to how many records were lost during the Collapse...we don't know how long it's been since everything went to hell. Not exactly. There's a few timelines that the Cryptarchy keep bandying around, but the general consensus is that it's been no less than five hundred years, no more than a thousand. Not a lot to work with, neh?"

"...how can you stand it?" Awakening in a strange world, so unbelievably different from the old one, living as an undying soldier.

"Well, we all found our own way." She raised her fist, looking at it with a frightening severity. "For me...the thought of being able to fight on the front line, to be there where things really mattered...I felt like I was making up for all the shit we put you kids through."

"Misato-san..."

"How much do you remember?"

The sudden question startled Shinji, throwing him off of his train of thought. "Oh. Um...well..." He thought hard. Really hard. "...it's...like water. I think...?"

(The school was supposed to be a place of normalcy, a place of escape. One fateful day, a lone wrym granted a single wish to a desperate boy: by the time the sun had set, the entire building was destroyed, and the beast's thrall had to be put down.)

"Some of it is just...there, beyond my reach. If I try to grasp it, to focus...it slips away. I have a vague idea of who I used to be...and yet I don't...but I don't feel like I'm someone else. I still feel like Shinji Ikari." He looked plainly at the older woman. "Does that make sense?"

"...yeah." Misato sighed, taking another deep sip of her saké. As she filled her cup again, she continued, "I remember most of my life before resurrecting as a Guardian. Sometimes, the bits and pieces that are blank...they change, from time to time. On the nights where I can't sleep...I spend the time trying to get my thoughts in order." She shot a cheesy grin at him. "Keeps me occupied, you know?"

"...then...do you remember what happened on the day that I...?" Vanished? Disappeared? Died?

Her grin faded. "...yeah. I do."

"Then..." His right hand began to clench, a familiar impulse. He held onto that familiarity with dear life. "...why was I just left there? My Ghost...she found me by the ruins of my Entry Plug." Inhale. Exhale. "Why was I just left to die?" He wanted to add the word 'alone'. But he didn't have to.

Misato looked meaningfully at him, as though gauging the best way to respond. And really...he didn't exactly give her much wiggle room.

'That was kind of harsh.'

But it was true, wasn't it...? Right?

Finally, the woman spoke. "Shinji-kun...do you remember? The mission you were sent on."

"...no."

(Standing at the edge of the great abyss, he wondered how they could've gone so long without knowing.)

Shinji relented. "Well...maybe...?"

"The Source. We found the Source of the Dragons, those damned Ahamkara..." A brief tremor of anger roiled through her. "Right underneath us the whole damn time..." she hissed to herself, before turning her attention back to Shinji. "You...you went down to fight it, to end it, to bring the Cataclysm to an end once and for all."

"...and?"

Misato chuckled bitterly. "And...you certainly did end it. But we didn't expect what came next."

xx

/Centuries Ago/

It seemed like all of Japan was shaking.

Misato Katsuragi fell over every few seconds, as aftershocks roiled through Kanagawa Prefecture. All of their sensory equipment had long since shorted out, meaning that Unit-01 was on its own.

Shinji-kun...you can do it. She stared resolutely at the distant vortex that now consumed Hakone, a whirling maelstrom of darkness that crackled with ethereal lightning. Her subordinates at the temporary command center had long ago realized that her attention was solely focused on this battle. You'll make it...you will!

Then, time seemed to slow to a crawl.

A distinct cylinder suddenly shot away from the vortex, rushing through the stormy clouds. "That was an Entry Plug! Shin-!"

The vortex erupted, its hazy structure dissipating in a burst of air and light. The force bowled everyone over; Misato's head hit something hard, and she lost consciousness.

She didn't know how much time had passed by the time she awoke. Only that it was too long.

Her eyes shot open, dimly recognizing the familiar style oh a hospital room. A bespectacled man looked down at her, a weary expression on his face. "Hyuuga? Where-?"

"We're back at Tokyo," said the man, his dark hair slicked back. "The military has quarantined Hakone."

"How long-?"

"Two days."

"And where's Shinji-kun?"

"Still no contact. The tracking systems on the Entry Plug must have malfunctioned. Unit-01's current status is unknown."

"Damn it, I don't care about Unit-01! We need to find Shinji!"

"We've got bigger problems. We've finally reestablished contact with the other branches, and they're all sensing anomalies. NERV-Germany, NERV-Russia, NERV-Luna, NERV-Venus, NERV-Mars...ALL of them!"

"...what?"

"Commander Ikari's initiated something called KETER ECLIPSE. All of the MAGI facilities are going dark."

"...the hell is going on?"

"Honestly? I don't know. But now that you're up, we need to get with the others, to at least get some kind of plan-"

A distant rumble sounded, shaking the entire hospital at its very foundation. "What the...?" Hyuuga quickly ran towards the window, looking at the smoky cloud rising above the distant skyline.

Misato grimaced, slowly getting off of the cot; as she joined his side by the window, her eyes looked up, at the distant figure of the Moon, its surface washed with the blue sky of day.

Great spears were rushing towards them in the dozens: massive shapes that crashed with an immense ferocity.

It was a harbinger for Hell itself.

("It was the Hive's first attack on Earth.")

Soon, chaos engulfed the entire city of Tokyo...nay, the entire county of Japan.

("I don't know what happened with the rest of NERV. I don't know how they dealt with their particular anomalies...but for me, that's how the Collapse began.")

The next days were those of sound and fury, as violence became the end-all and be-all.

("I tried...I honestly tried.")

Eventually, Misato found herself alone, armed with a single gun, a combat knife, and a metal baseball bat. Eyeless furies of bone and claw snarled and shrieked, rushing at her with the intent to kill. The woman's back was against the dead end of an alley. Heh. 'Dead end'. How apropos. "Fine then...come on, you sons of bitches! HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT!"

The bullets were spent first. She swung her baseball bat wildly, smashing skulls and hardy ribs. By the time the bludgeon was ripped from her hands, she had killed twenty. Snarling, she held the knife in a reverse grip, stabbing with her right hand and punching with her left. Claws slashed at her, lacerating her body on all sides.

She fought, and struggled, and howled with everything that she had.

Shinji-kun...wherever you are...I hope you're okay.

One of the emaciated beasts dragged her down. She elbowed it away, facing upward as the horde descended upon her.

Live...Shinji...

Misato greeted her death with a scream of rage and eyes full of fury.

xx

Misato grinned bitterly as she finished recounting her tale; judging by the odd twinkle in her eyes, his mortified expression was quite the looker. "All this time, I had hoped that you'd managed to escape the horrors of the Collapse. The Hive ravaged Japan...can't really speak for the rest of the world..." She took another sip of her saké, letting the rice wine sit for a long moment before swallowing. "All I know is that my Ghost woke me up amidst the ruins of Tokyo. It took months and months of wandering and hiding before I first heard rumors of the Last City, on the mainland...and...well, here I am."

"...Misato-san..." The hurt of being left behind had been replaced by shame. He wanted to say sorry, but the heavy emotion in Misato's eyes was constricting his words.

"...part of me's happy, that you missed everything. That you didn't see everything come crashing down." She forced a smile, gently rubbing the side of his face with her gloved hand. "And hey, you're here now. You're alive again. You have the chance to do...well, something. Anything!" Her cheeks dimpled, and her grin was somewhat more genuine. "Better than nothing, right?"

"...maybe." Shinji looked down at his hands, briefly curling his fingers. "I...did what I thought people wanted me to do, with Eva..."

(The handlebars were mostly for show, as his thoughts and will were the primary motivators for Unit-01. He still grabbed them, if only to make sure he had something to hold on to, to keep from falling away...at least, that's what it felt like.)

"...I thought I was helping people...but did I really? If this is the world that's left...did I really do anything worthwhile?"

Misato idly messed with the end of her air, her gaze never leaving his face. "...heh. Still the same." She leaned forward, pouring saké into the other cup. "I can't stop you from thinking about those things...but everything that happened would have happened, even if we never created Eva. No one saw the Collapse coming...you can't put that on your shoulders."

"...I guess."

"Here." She shifted the second cup towards him, raising her own with the other hand. "You've fought as valiantly as any other soldier. You deserve at least one drink. Cheers?"

Shinji stared at the clear rice wine, wondering what the point of it was.

(The first time he opened her refrigerator, the sight of all the beer was inwardly repulsive. He tried to square the image of a beer-guzzling flirt with the coolly authoritative stature of a Captain, and failed miserably.)

'Does it really matter? Sometimes a drink is just a drink, a sign of celebration, or mutual joy.'

...maybe. If that was the case, what would Misato think would be the most appropriate course of action? Maybe...maybe. "...cheers." Calmly, he reached for the saké jar and downed the remnants of the ceramic jar, thirteen ounces in total.

The action was so unexpected that Misato nearly dropped her cup.

The alcoholic burn was horrible, and the taste was disagreeable. Still, Shinji didn't stop until all thirteen ounces had been consumed; the only thing he could think to do to avoid coughing, or heaving, or vomiting, was to let loose a hearty and throaty whoop. "HAAAAAAAAA!"

(He stared dumbly as she chugged the entire can of beer in one go. Upon finishing, she let loose a hearty and throaty whoop. "YEAAAAAAAAAH! This is the life!")

Breathing heavily, Shinji looked blearily at Misato and forced a grin. "...this is the life. Right?"

Misato blinked.

And then she smirked. Her lips curled, and her eyes began to water. Finally, she burst into laughter, so possessed by bewildered disbelief and amusement that she fell off of her stool, spilling her cup onto the ground. Upon landing, she yelped; and then, she laughed harder.

'Well, I think she found it funny.'

Shinji stared at the woman, uncertain as to what he should do.

'You could smile? Laugh along?'

"...heheh." Shinji began to chuckle softly, unable to do much more than that. But with Misato's boisterous bellowing and the ambiance of the Bazaar to serve as background music, it felt...good.

Misato slowly picked herself back up, her body still wracked with spontaneous giggles. "Okay...that was...the best...heh...HAH...!" Breathing deeply, the elder Hunter reached into a pocket, pulling out a few silvery coins and placing them on the counter. As Yoshi grabbed their dishware and pocketed the coins, Misato pushed aside the cloth dividing the ramen stand from the rest of the Bazaar. "Follow me. I want to show you something."

"Okay." Shinji calmly stood; despite the warmth in his cheeks, he didn't feel as loopy as he had expected. Was that normal? "I...I don't know what it's like to be drunk. Am I supposed to act a certain way?"

Misato smirked. "Some people handle their alcohol differently. I will say that being a Guardian comes with a few perks...depending on your point of view." Muttering something about 'can't even get hammered anymore', the Iron Lady began walking away with large strides. Shinji dutifully followed, weaving around the active crowds; as they neared the edge of the pavilion's third floor - barred by a guardrail - Misato fearlessly jumped off. Shinji - already used to the sight of fellow Guardians doing seemingly insane things - followed her.

Misato jumped twice off of the air, landing softly in a running motion.

Shinji waited until he was closer to the ground, jumping once - mentally wincing at the odd sensation of reversing his momentum to 'jump off of the air' - before landing less gracefully.

The woman nodded, in seeming approval. "Try to keep up!" She burst off into a hard sprint, the golden wolf's head on her cloak reflecting the nighttime light in a mesmerizing fashion.

Sighing, Shinji took off running as well.

They ran. And they ran. Away from the downtown, towards the limits of the City; through the fields and minor forests that sat within the Barrier; towards a large structure, similar to the Tower, but marred with the scars of battle. Wordlessly, the elder Hunter leapt through an open window that had been shot out. Jumping in after her, Shinji grimaced as he saw Misato head through a door on the far end of the hall; upon entering, he groaned audibly at the sight of a long stairwell.

'This actually might be a bit of a workout!'

He glanced upward; Misato was jumping from rail to rail, utilizing her triple jump to ascend whole flights at a time.

'...or you could do that.'

...I think I'll just take the stairs.

Shinji ran up the stairs, two at a time; despite how much of an arduous task it seemed, he still didn't feel like he was breaking a sweat. This...this is crazy.

'Are you complaining?'

...not really.

'Then just keep chasing her!'

And so he did.

By the time he finally got to the top floor, Misato had been waiting for five minutes. "Slowpoke."

Shinji sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm...not as good as you are."

"Not yet, anyway."

Shinji glanced around, stepping out onto an open terrace; the overall format was very similar to the Tower, if a bit more open-aired. By the edge facing towards the City, a winding white tree with feathery leaves of red stood, standing stalwart in the quiet breeze. Misato was leaning on the rail, her hair fluttering in the breeze. Gulping, he slowly walked forward, trying to fill the awkward void with small talk. "So...what is this place?"

"It's called Bannerfall. Currently used by and for the Crucible. Was initially set as a neutral ground years ago during the Faction Crisis. Nerv and a Faction called the New Monarchy nearly came to blows here." She briefly looked around, staring at the leafy sigils of Nerv, and the white triangular symbols of the defunct New Monarchy. "Were it not for the Speaker's intervention, it might have come to war."

"...why?" There was so much worse out there, beyond the City and its protective Barrier; there was more than enough danger, more than enough death. Why invite more amongst each other? "...why would they? What would have been the point?"

"Hell if I know. The Iron Lords were too busy trying to patrol the Wild...and dealing with the aftermath of our first attempt to claim SIVA." The woman huffed, staring back towards the Traveler, and the City in particular. The light of the half moon cast a pale silhouette over everything. "...sometimes, it's views like this that remind me of why I do what I do...and I hope it's the same for you."

"Hm?"

"Shinji-kun...your efforts have contributed to the protection of this City, and its people. And knowing who you are...they always will." Her smile was soft, lacking her normal bluster, but no less beautiful. "Never forget that."

(The city was small, and clustered together; yet, in the light of the setting sun, it seemed almost intimate. If that even made sense. "Never forget...this was the city that you saved.")

"...Misato-san?"

"Hmm?"

The entire evening had been quite illuminating. Now, reaching for memories, there was...some solidity. Not enough to truly remember who he used to be...but it was the equivalent of finding messages in a bottle, floating amidst a vast sea. "...I don't really know what I'm meant to do, in this place." A particular message stood out in general, for how stark the sensations were. "But...what about you and me?"

("Shinji, I'm coming in." He hadn't moved from his bed since returning from the battlefield, leaning on his knees. His bed crinkled as Misato sat beside him. The silence was...oppressive, and smothering. Just like the school had been that day, when one of his few friends had begun killing everyone.)

"What..."

("...the tears won't come, Misato," he said, despondently. One of the few constants of his life: gone, in an afternoon of fire, blood, and carnage. "...I feel sad, but the tears won't come.")

"...what about..."

("...Shinji...this is about all I can do for you right now." Her hand slowly rested atop his own. Wearily, he looked to his right; the woman was facing straight ahead, not wanting to look him in the eye. It was strange; he could remember the first time he had met her, looking up to see her face. Now, after two years of constant battle against the wyrms, they could see eye-to-eye. Perhaps that, more than anything else, was what decided it; Ayanami, Horaki, Kensuke, Toji...they were all dead now. When it came to the people that he cared about...when it came to the people that cared about him...who else was left? Thus, when Misato slowly turned to look at him - a strange intensity in her eyes - it was ultimately no surprise when he lunged forward, kissing her deeply out of a desperate, lonely hunger.)

"...what about us?"

Misato had that strange intensity in her gaze again; now that this particular memory had become more-or-less fixed (and oh goodness, his stomach was doing weird flips), he recognized it as the same look from that night. Um...

'I'm staying far away from this one. Romantic relationships are...not my area of expertise.'

...thanks, I thiiiiiiiiiiii...

Shinji's thoughts trailed off for a very good reason; Misato's hands were on both sides of his face. He couldn't look away, even if he wanted to. "Shinji...tell me what is that you want. What do you want?"

Well. As though that wasn't a question he hadn't asked himself before, over and over. "...I..."

(He woke up in Misato's arms, somewhat numb and bewildered by...well...everything. The woman was staring at him, an inscrutable, unknowable heaviness to her gaze. He looked back, unwilling to move, unwilling to speak...unwilling to do anything other than just lie there, resting in a loose embrace, hoping that the world would just ignore them. However...by this point, they both knew better, didn't they? The next day, the operation to destroy the Source of the Wyrms would commence; little did they know that this moment of peace would be their last one together.)

"...I don't know what I want."

Misato smiled. "...I grew up dealing with a lot of shit, and I'll admit that I wasn't the best role model in how to cope. What you and I shared...it probably wouldn't have been considered appropriate. Though, in all fairness, that whole business with the Ahamkara was anything but appropriate. Wouldn't you agree?"

"...yeah."

"Know that I don't regret it, Shinji-kun. You understand that, right?"

Shinji dumbly nodded.

"My only regret...is that I wasn't the person that could help you in the way that you needed. My hatred of those dragons for what they took from me...my fear of being alone...all the times that I was just so disgusted with myself and my inability to make a difference like I wanted...you didn't deserve that kind of baggage."

"But...it was a part of you...right?" Despite how much he despised his role as an Eva Pilot, he knew that removing Unit-01 from his life, to ignore it, to pretend none of it had ever happened...such a dream was impossible. "Then you wouldn't have been Misato Katsuragi. Right?"

Misato grinned wryly. "Between rising from the dead and protecting the City, it took a lot of years for me to get my act together. It took...it took a lot, for me to finally get the perspective I needed, to learn where I screwed up, to learn how I could do better. And Shinji..."

"...yes?"

"...if you want to pick up where we left off, and try to figure it out as we go along...I can do that. You deserve that much. But..." She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his. Her hands were still resting on the sides of his face. "...just know that it would be an absolute privilege if I could be your friend."

"...a...a friend?"

"Yep. I'm not exactly your commanding officer anymore...and I don't have to let you do all of the fighting. We can be equals...partners...comrades. Does...does that sound okay?"

Shinji thought about it. This woman...he had always had a small sliver of doubt in the back of his head about her intentions in the Time Before. An eclectic mix of passion and determination, he hadn't really known how sincere she had been, if ever. As time had passed, it had gotten easier and more comfortable...but that doubt had never really gone away. It would be easier to do nothing...but doing nothing would still hurt...can I really take that chance...?

'Perhaps she just had a different way of fighting her loneliness than you did.'

...huh.

That small comment from Yui was...insightful. And helpful. In the end...this was no different than any other battle. I mustn't run away. "Yeah..." He nodded feebly. "I'd...I would like that."

Misato blinked.

And then she bore the most brilliant grin he had ever seen on another human being; with a happy burst of laughter, she embraced him tightly and spun in place, actually lifting him off of the ground.

It felt...right.

After the twirling bear hug reached its culmination, Misato released Shinji, her grin still bearing the joyful intensity. "Well...let's talk about where to go from here! What's your subclass?"

The sudden conversational shift stunned the young Hunter. "...eh?"

'Say Bladedancer.'

"Bladedancer?"

"Excellent!" She backed away, slowly beginning to pace. "Now, I know you're not one to seek out a battle, but with the way our luck's run, battle will eventually come to you. And I want to make sure you have the tools and skills necessary to make it out alive! Now, I favor being a Gunslinger, but..." She paused, going quiet; Shinji sensed a strange shift in the air, a subtle charge. Finally, Misato broke the silence. "...I know a thing or two about being a Bladedancer."

Shinji quickly caught on to what Misato was suggesting. "...you're gonna train me?"

("Simulations can only go so far." Shinji looked mutely at the various weapons laid before him, then at the various targets at the far end of the firing range. He looked up at Misato, who was unwrapping some new earplugs. "I want you to have an instinctive understanding of what it's like to handle a gun.")

"Well of course! We may be Guardians, but I'm still your senpai in more ways than one!" With a blink of light and an audible shyoom, Misato reappeared several meters away. "Your Light can be used in a variety of ways." An orb of Arc energy materialized in her palm; she tossed it far away, wherein it burst into a swirling swarm of sparking explosives "And I want to help you master it." Then, she vanished; quite literally, for she disappeared from sight.

"...wha? Misato-san?"

"Like this!"

"WAGH!" Shinji whirled around; Misato had gotten right behind him! "How-?"

"Invisibility."

"...really?"

"Really really." Misato glanced up at the starry sky, inhaling deeply of the crisp night air. "You feel like getting an early start?"

"...sure!"

Misato grinned. "Then let's begin!"

xxxx

/Twilight Gap, Northeastern Perimeter of the City/

Asuka-2 had briefly considered tailing Misato and the newbie. However, two things had stopped her.

One: she really had no business doing so. They obviously had a lot to catch up on.

Two: her 'target' was finally in a position where she could intervene. A tip from the Hidden had finally borne fruit; per Ikora Rey's intelligence network, the Titan in question was wrapping up a Crucible match.

So Asuka-2 waited. She had discarded her Mark, going bare, in a sense. Mari had already shifted her armor's shaders to some darker colors, and she had exchanged her standard VISIGOTH Type 1 helmet for customized Garuda Type 0, with a better voice filter. It would be sufficient.

Finally, after a raucous hour's worth of Clash, the twelve Guardians began to disperse, going on their own way. Her target remained behind - as Ikora's profile suggested he would - to do some more target practice on the rusty remnants of the defensive fortification, a shadow of what it had once been prior to the Battle of the Twilight Gap. At long last, he was alone.

And so Asuka-2 approached. "Interesting weapon you have there."

The Titan in blue-and-green Agema Type 0 armor whirled around, clearly surprised by her arrival. "Geez! Don't scare me like that. Who are you?"

"Me?" She gave a half-shrug. "I'm nobody." She gestured at his auto rifle. "So. Where'd you get that?"

"Oh, this?" He raised the red weapon; of particular note was the sharp bayonet affixed to its end. "The Red Spectre; my team and I destroyed a Ramiel scouting party over a month ago, to the north. It came from a legendary engram; lucky me, huh?"

"Yeah. Lucky you." She idly noted his Mark: a red sash with a series of claw marks painted in white: the Bloodborne Mark. So his allegiance is with Wille. Typical. "Doesn't seem so special to me." She had to make sure. She had to at least give the benefit of the doubt.

The human chuckled. "Well, you clearly haven't heard the tales. This thing is modeled after an infamous weapon, said to have unbelievable abilities! I never really put much stock into them myself, but if this Spectre was anything remotely like the original...well, I can see why some Guardians raved about it." He aimed back over the guardrail, shooting at a freestanding tower; his shots were clustered around a large portion of dented metal. "Honestly, I wouldn't mind getting my hands on the original..."

Hmph. Another moron. Just like all the others. "And why would you want the original?"

"Why not? Any advantage against the enemy, I'd say."

The Titan was caught off-guard when a sparking fist smashed into his face. "Whoa, hey-!" He kept himself from falling, turning around just in time to receive a knee to the chest. Growling, he quickly got the message. "So, up for a one-on-one fight, huh?! Bring it-!"

Asuka-2's palm slammed into his visor, bearing a Flashbang Grenade the burst in his face. The male Titan yelped out of shock, disoriented long enough for Asuka-2 to deliver a quick combination of hooks and straights. Snarling, his body flickered with electricity. "THAT DOES IT!" He raised his fists, ready to unleash the Fist of Havoc-

POW!

The Exo's heel smashed into his neck, right on the Adam's apple. The precise blow halted the man in his tracks; another haymaker sent him hurtling over the guardrail, landing several meters in the grassy clearing below. As he struggled to get to his feet, Asuka-2 slowly descended, shaking her head. "If you know the tales, then you know why the 'original' was so infamous...it was known for being a Guardian killer. Why the hell would such a weapon be so enticing to you?!" She slowly walked towards him, pressing her foot against his torso to keep him pinned to the ground. "Thinking of how to get such power, without thinking about the why!" She raised her hand, aiming it at the fallen Titan. That was Mari's cue: a pulse rifle materialized in the Exo's outstretched hand, looking remarkably similar to the Red Spectre...except it was older, bearing dark colors. Grungier, splattered in ancient blood. Deadlier, bearing an impossibly sharp bayonet and spikes protruding from the barrel.

The Titan beneath her feet went still. She observed her reflection in his helmet - her vertical green visor seemed befitting death itself - and snorted. "Still want your hands on it now?" She pointed the bayonet of Red Death at his face. "Well?!"

(The man with a ponytail advanced casually, despite her panicked warnings to stop. "All I wanted was the truth...that's all I ever wanted. And they gave it to me." Even though she was pointing a pistol at him, he wasn't frightened at all. "You can have whatever you want, Asuka." He raised his bloodstained hands, which burned with an unearthly power. "All you have to do is make a wish...oh pupil mine.")

"No! Just stop, just stop!" screamed the panicking Titan.

Asuka-2 snorted. "Pathetic." The Red Death vanished, transmatting away. She reached down, hauling the man to his feet; her hand was like a vice around his neck. "Power must always have a purpose beyond itself. If you're pursuing the power just for the sake of having it...then that power will use you. And you won't ever be the same." She reared her left arm; the entire limb crackled with unbelievable voltage. "Remember that...and maybe we won't cross paths again." And so Asuka-2 demonstrated her mastery of the Arc, channeling the ferocious fury of the Fist of Havoc through a single haymaker.

BOOOM!

The younger man went sailing away from the defensive fortification, his corpse appearing as an electrified comet. After such a blow, it would take a while for his Ghost to resurrect him.

Plenty of time to get away. Reaching down for the Red Spectre, she said, "Get us out of here."

'...on it.'

After grabbing the auto rifle, Asuka-2 disappeared in a flash-

SHYOOOM.

-transmatting into a grassy field on the other side of the Barrier, within the bounds of the City. Mari materialized, already shifting the colors of her armor to the more familiar shades of crimson. "...you okay, Princess?"

Asuka-2 clenched tightly onto the Red Spectre, denting its stock. "Just disassemble this thing already."

"...sure thing."

As her Ghost went about breaking down the auto rifle into spare Glimmer, Asuka-2 removed her temporary helmet, gazing quietly at the stars above. The sky was just like human nature: seemingly unchanging, and everlasting. "Stupid idiots..."

xxxx

Grimoire: Red Death

"Only rumors tell of the enraged Guardian who fashioned this butcher's tool. But its power is undeniable, and fear is a formidable weapon."

Commander Osiris: You shouldn't be surprised at all, given the nature of Engrams.

Asuka-2: You don't have to remind me.

Commander Osiris: Memory is a tricky thing...imagination, even more so. You never know what will capture the fancies of our City's collective culture, and the people that comprise it. Why would Guardians be any different?

Asuka-2: It's...it's just...why did it have to be that?

Commander Osiris: Your dread works were fabled long before the Speaker and the Consensus even existed. Again: why are you surprised?

Asuka-2: ...at the time...it was the only thing I could think of.

Commander Osiris: And you have my gratitude for your actions. Be grateful that the decrypted form always seems to be a lesser manifestation: a figment of fevered imagination, and not the hard reality of the original.

Asuka-2: ...I want to know whenever one of these 'Red Spectres' emerge.

Commander Osiris: And why should I give you leave to destroy a mere weapon?

Asuka-2: Its claim to fame is being similar to a weapon that's only known for being a Guardian killer. If someone boasts about such a weapon...what does that say about them?

Commander Osiris: A fair point.