Disclaimer: I do not own Evangelion.
Shiro received hundreds of emails each day. The technicians spirited away in his research labs, the assistants to Naoko and the Commanders, government liaisons, Section representatives, Kaji, various city officials, shipping companies, and a myriad other subordinates and acquaintances bombarded his terminal hourly with a deluge of questions, responses, reports and preparations needed to facilitate his work and NERV as a whole.
Through extended correspondence his contacts learned to be succinct and he was able to answer the majority of them with a sentence or two. He disliked the anonymity of the internet. A face-to-face meeting was the best way to gauge someone's intent. Professionally, he welcomed Gendo's own aversion to email, though every fiber of his humanity regretted it.
Naoko warned him early on to be careful with his computer activity. Despite his encryption programs, firewalls and data scrubbers, she told him nothing short of complete physical destruction of his hard drive would prevent the MAGI from shadowing him. And even then there were ways the supercomputer could keep tabs indirectly.
Although NERV held a strict privacy contract with its employees Naoko admitted it was observed as a one-way street. The MAGI automatically scanned all data entering and exiting the base, as well as anything transmitted between or downloaded from terminals. Prior to dissemination everything was copied, compressed, sorted and saved to automatically check for any breaches or suspicious activity, comparing past and present actions to determine patterns and habits. It was the kind of surveillance Shiro once detested but realized was vitally necessary in the post-Impact world, and inside NERV especially.
Naoko explained the technical details once and he pretended to understand so she wouldn't explain it again. As far as his needs were concerned computers were the same as automobiles. He could use them, he grasped the basic fundamentals of their operation, but the actual workings and internal construction were a fog of technological jargon and obscure science. He appreciated the craftsmanship and skill that went into building one, but he only had so much patience with subjects outside his natural aptitude.
Shiro waded through the last trickle of the morning's messages, skimming over funding requisitions and updates on projects, including the repairs to Unit-02 following the last battle. The hands and limb joints received moderate damage, but the time and cost needed to restore it was only a concern now that impending annihilation was momentarily suspended and the budget again consumed everyone's attention.
It was no small miracle Asuka reached the Angel in time to catch it. Unit-01's initial position was closest but there hadn't been enough time after NERV repaired the leg Shinji cut off to fully recalibrate and it slowed him down considerably. Unit-00 would never match the other Eva's speed or strength. There was no choice but to rely on 02 then.
He didn't expect Gendo to offer any kind of praise, least of all to Asuka, but it certainly put the girl in her place. She was now totally committed to piloting, and by extension to NERV. It was like the old days again, her confidence still firmly in place but without the overt animosity coloring her recent behavior.
The Commander likewise strengthened Shinji's desires without altering the way he went about achieving them or the general situation. Shiro admitted he could not have planned it better himself.
Shiro opened the fifty-fourth email of the morning when the embedded lights in the ceiling flickered twice with a brief crackle. He felt his heart skip a beat; something like that simply should not happen. He glanced up as the panel relit, gave a low struggling hum, then abruptly cut out along with his terminal.
He brought his left hand up to check the illuminated display on his watch. He stared at the digits slowly rearrange themselves until power was brought back online.
During NERV's early days, when they were still toiling to get the power grid up and running, outages were expected and planned for. The number of diesel generators they needed to maintain even basic systems while installing the electric source from the surrounding cities above set the construction budget back half a year alone. The generators remained as an emergency measure, though in actuality it was simply easier to leave them where they were than deal with the time and money required to remove them.
Shiro counted down the last seconds on his watch until the MAGI would reboot the base. It was a paranoid habit he developed during the construction, mostly from the knowledge that there were indeed spies in their midst.
Four, three, two, one.
He stared at his watch in the dark.
It must be a serious snag. The MAGI reorganization might be to blame. It would be another ten seconds before the emergency diesel activated and restored temporary power.
He still stared at his watch in the dark after a half minute.
He sat back in his chair and it groaned in objection. He rubbed his eyes. There was only one, recently improbable possibility. He sat up.
Shiro fumbled in his desk and withdrew a NERV-issued pistol. He never had the occasion to use it outside the handful of times his machismo demanded satisfaction at the shooting range. He held it and tested the weight. It was small and sleek for a seven-round handgun, but it was still heavier than he remembered. He stood and slipped it into his jacket.
The emergency flashlight in the back of the drawer was covered in a film of dust. He wiped it off on his pants, along with his sweaty hands. He left the office.
He passed anonymous personnel as they scrambled down the halls, bumping into walls and each other. Most couldn't provide any type of assistance, but action during an emergency was a behavior NERV drilled into its employees, overtly and indirectly. Shiro did not bother to stop any of them or issue the appropriate commands to stay calm.
Eventually the mob thinned to a stream, then a trickle, then nothing. Shiro was in the auxiliary halls on the fringe of Central Dogma, populated with storage rooms for obsolete machinery and spare equipment. The cloudy disk of yellow from his flashlight finally came to rest on a heavy sealed door at the end of a short corridor. A restricted sign was printed above it.
Every sensitive door within NERV contained an independent energy source for its electronic lock to ensure a total loss of power did not mean a total loss of security. The locks contained only enough charge for two uses, a single opening and a single shutting. After the power was expended the door was held in place by a series of bolts activated upon closing until it was reconnected to the main circuit.
Shiro slid his keycard through the entry slot and entered an eleven-digit access code. The hatch unlocked with a dull metallic thump and he swung it wide. He stepped in and shut it behind him, the locking mechanism clunking into place.
Inside was blind darkness. His flashlight revealed he was on a narrow railed platform on the curved wall of a giant shaft, stretching into obscurity above and below him. To his left a ladder plummeted into an inky shadow. He hooked his cane in his belt and lowered himself to it. His feet on the rungs echoed into peals of metallic bell tolls.
Soon the platform was swallowed by a ceiling of night creeping after him. Below the darkness opened its maw to receive him.
Filiation
Chapter 8: Tenebrae
Shinji headed to NERV because he had no idea where else to go. The city's power died during his trek to school, and as he realized what happened the populace swallowed him in an orderly panic. The citizenry was accustomed to so much worse a blackout was little more than a minor inconvenience.
People shouted and rushed and filled the streets with the expected indignant anxiety needed to keep hysteria in check. Shinji watched for several minutes feeling numb and slow. There was no point in continuing to school. The teachers and students didn't know how to conduct a thing without power. The few places in the city he frequented would likewise be a waste of time.
He turned back to his apartment, figuring even if power was restored he had a valid excuse to stay home today. He dug in his satchel for a new SDAT tape and found his cell phone first. He supposed NERV would have some kind of secondary power source for an admittedly improbable case like this. They could at least tell him what was going on.
He dialed the direct line to the bridge's comm. operator and was answered by static. Shinji tried the base's public assistance directory and received the same. He drew the phone away to scowl at it, but offended confusion failed to make it work.
He jammed a tape into his SDAT and twisted the volume hard. He travelled the thinning streets in a private world of confining sound. The crowds gradually calmed and faded and he looked around. It seemed everything really was down. He didn't think it was possible, here of all places.
He travelled two blocks when he spotted Rei near a few straggling civilians who were, oddly, using a crosswalk. Shinji knew if an action was commanded enough it could become a reflex.
He debated hiding in an alley until Rei was gone, but knew she was essentially a walking talking directory to headquarters and might know what was going on, as well as any problems at the base. Still, he hesitated, wondering how to gloss over all the unpleasantness between them. Ignoring her didn't work. Neither did telling her to leave him alone. Shinji decided to deal with it the way he dealt with most of the unpleasant things in his life: pretend it never happened.
"Ayanami," he called out, coming up beside her. "Is your phone down too?"
"Yes," Rei said. She turned and began to walk. "We should report to headquarters. Security and surveillance have been compromised. All pilots must be on standby in case of emergency."
She's back in her professional no-nonsense mode, Shinji mused as he started after, glad to have an order to follow. He never imagined being reduced to a material asset at NERV's disposal would feel so welcome. As long as she's not talking about the—
He strangled the thought before he had to process it. He focused on her, on her physical presence before him. He realized how small she was. She was a breath beneath his height, but her frame was thin and her pallid skin made her look sick. For the first time he truly wondered why her hair was blue.
He followed her through the city; the trains were worthless metal boxes now. Without them the walk to NERV was under an hour if he kept a quick pace. He followed until his brain forced its way back into his body.
"Where are we going?" he asked. They weren't heading towards the Geofront.
"NERV's main gate and auxiliary entrances will not be operational," Rei told him. "We will have to take an alternate route."
Shinji occasionally saw odd alcoves on buildings and down alleys while in the city. They framed heavy bolted doors with codes printed on them like A-7 or D-22. He never took the necessary time to care before. Rei took him to one behind a squat office complex. She swiped her keycard and it cracked open.
"How did you do that? Isn't the power out?"
"All NERV doors are equipped with an independent energy source," she said, pushing the door away to reveal stairs and darkness. She stepped aside to let him pass. "It allows the door to unlock and lock once."
"How come no one told me about that?"
"It was not relevant. This situation should not be possible."
She shut the door behind him and he heard it snap shut and bolt into place. The air was stale and thin. It painted his skin as Rei swept past him.
He followed her down the staircase to a narrow hallway that continued at a subtle downward slope. He reached out to the wall for guidance. Rei led him to a Y-junction: the path to his left curved around a bend and sloped up; the way ahead descended further. He could not see where either ended. Rei slid a panel from the wall to reveal a shallow compartment, and produced a small electric lantern. It shimmered to life and forced the dark back a few steps. Rei proceeded forward.
"How are we going to reach NERV?" Shinji asked, staying at the trisection.
"What do you mean?" She did not stop.
"I use a tram to get from the city to the base. The Geofront's ceiling is huge. If we go by foot it will take hours to get down there."
"This path will take us where we need to be." Her light drifted away. "If you wish to stay here you may. I will inform security where you are."
I'm not scared of her, he told himself. His feet refused to move. I'm won't let her treat me like a child. Like she's any different than me.
He took a leaden step forward. The second was easier.
She was faster than he imagined. The small lantern's gauzy sphere stayed ahead of him at an unwavering distance, bobbing like a firefly dancing under a moonless night. He broke into a jog to catch up as it glided through twisting corridors. It finally stopped to float before an open passageway, and then slipped inside. Shinji ran, his breath angry and embarrassing in his ears, and collided with the door. He stumbled in with the lantern casting stalks of shadow from his feet. The door shut at his back and locked.
He was in a sterile tiled room lined with sealed boxes and old furniture. Desks and chairs and cabinets, all industrial and bulky, bullied their way from the walls to make the space appear smaller than it was. He could not see another exit and felt terror scratch at his bowels.
Rei had not moved since the door shut. Shinji tried to determine his odds of successfully subduing and escaping from her. She was trained for years in close-quarters combat. He was clumsy and had difficulty judging the results of his own movements. And the door was sealed shut until power was restored, he reminded himself.
He scanned the room for options. Everything looked too heavy to budge, let alone lift. There was no place to hide and no way to separate himself from Rei. He was helpless and he hated it. His head sunk and his eyes fell, and he saw Suzahara Toji lying face down on the middle of the floor. His hands were tied behind his back. Shinji felt ice under his skin.
"What is this?" he breathed.
"An opportunity," she said.
Shinji gaped. He wondered if the Captain or Soryu got Rei to participate in an elaborate joke on him.
"What is this?" he repeated.
He could not turn to look at her. He could not bear to see her face match the solemnity of her voice. He stared in silence until Toji stirred with a low gurgling sound from his throat, sliding his face along the floor until he rested on his cheek. His eyelids flickered, pressed together, opened. The eyes were glassy and unfocused, pivoting in his skull as they cleared to examine the room. The world plummeted into place and his face screwed up in disbelief as his sights fixed on Rei.
"You," he muttered. He shook his head. "What are you—" Toji tried to rise and found smooth rope binding his wrists together. He struggled and panic shot over his features. "Where am I? Where'd you take me?"
Shinji stared at him, agape.
"Where did you take me!?" Toji screamed. "Where are we!?" He panted through his nose, trying to keep the fear buried under anger. His arms strained against the rope.
The earth tilted beneath Shinji's feet and he stumbled to the side. The corner of a steel table stabbed his hip and he clutched at it for support. The thick metal edge knifed into his palm. He jammed his eyes shut as sweat drooled down his face. Everything was slipping away. The world of safe monotony he worked so hard to build turned to sand and bled through his fingers. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to hurt anymore.
"You—" Toji broke off as he noticed Rei was not alone. His eyes flitting between the two children before settling on Shinji. "You're that guy."
Shinji's insides dissolved. His head felt light and hollow.
"What's your name?" He waited. "Tell me your name." He waited again. An unsteady smirk crept up his mouth. "So that's it. You can't sneak up on me this time, can you? You're just a wimp, aren't you? You can't fight fair. You can't fight unless you're cheating. Well? Come on! Get over here and show your freak girlfriend how pathetic you are!"
Rei watched at the door under the unwavering glow of the lantern. Shinji failed to stifle a sob. Toji took a shaky breath.
"You're wasting all of our time," he said. "Game's over. If you let me go right now maybe I'll only call the cops." No one moved. Toji twisted his bindings again and felt them give. He used his wrists to loosen them until a hand slipped free. He gauged the distance to his target. "Fine."
Toji drew into a crouch and pushed himself up. He launched his body forward into a dead sprint.
Shinji felt like he was watching a broken movie as the boy barreled towards him. Everything was slow and wrong. One of the boy's arms was pulling back, the fingers clawing into a fist, the knuckles turning white and jutting up beneath the skin like shrapnel.
The swing came too fast and struck Shinji's front teeth. His jaw rattled and reflexively snapped down to bite his tongue. Inky black stars crowded his vision and the floor dropped out from under him.
He blindly reached out and found Toji's shirt. The momentum from the punch and Shinji's hands sent them both down. Shinji squeezed his eyes shut and twisted to land on his side. He pulled hard on Toji and drove him into the table with a dull crack. They reached the floor with a jolt.
Shinji felt cool tile sting his cheek and split an eye open. He found Toji beside him on his back, his head pitched sideways to stare at him. There was an uneven tear running from his left temple to his hairline. The skin was folded back to display a jagged gap fenced by perfect white bone. Shinji looked into the narrow fissure where the table edge opened Toji's skull. Everything inside was black.
He rose to his knees and Toji's face pivoted to follow him. Shinji froze and discovered his hands still balled up in the boy's shirt, lifting him up. He unclasped his fingers and the body slumped back. Toji's head struck the floor and fell to the side over the gash.
Shinji stood. He felt a dull ache on his mouth and remembered he had been punched. He tasted copper. His hand rose without command. It felt light, it felt artificial and wrong. His fingers came away wet. He glanced down and saw the floor growing dark around the boy's head.
Shinji's wound was shallow and the fluid it gave him bright and recognizable. The boy's open skull flushed out something purple. It was heavy and thick like oil. Shinji thought about what came out of Unit-01's leg after he hacked it off. There was so much. It flowed like paint from an overturned can.
Toji gazed blankly at a file cabinet against the wall. His lips were parted slightly. The purple surrounded him like an aura.
Don't wake up, Shinji thought slowly. He let his eyes slip shut. Don't see this is real.
He drifted away. There was no locked room. There was no blood in his mouth. There was no dead child.
There was a voice calling his name. He opened his eyes. Rei was leading him down a hall. The lights were on. He watched them march over his head until they vanished beneath the threshold of a door. Then the ceiling was different. The lights were longer and brighter. They filled his sight. It was like staring into the sun.
Something cold and wet fell on his mouth. He looked down and saw Rei cleaning his swollen lip with a paper towel. He couldn't feel it. He saw blood on her hands and smeared on her clothes. He saw blood smeared on his hands and clothes. They were in a restroom together. He knew people would think it was strange but he was too tired to remember why. All he wanted to do was shut his eyes and never open them again. He felt like he could sleep forever. But Rei's bloody eyes held him in place. The color grew and wrapped around him until it was all he knew. The world became red and he became red with it.
She looked elegant, he thought. The insight was unbidden but as she stood before him, turning her head to gaze over her shoulder, bathed in the amniotic radiance of the Dummy Plug chamber, she effortlessly captured the grace her mother ineffectually strove for since they first met.
"Shiro," Ritsuko said, facing him fully. A withered forearm drifted in the orange behind her. "Of all the cloning facilities in the world…"
Shiro watched her from the entrance. She held herself easily, unconcerned with being interrupted. The curving glass walls framing her were clouded with mushrooming red clawing its way from a disordered tangle of floating innards, shredded limbs and tattered bodies. A piece of dissolving face smiled at him.
The chamber's lights were operational, meaning Naoko had at least restored emergency power to the lower levels, but without the MAGI's full assistance the base's security was still vulnerable to someone with skill.
"I was wondering if you'd show up." Ritsuko nodded around the chamber. "Ikari got rather far, didn't he? I suppose the real credit goes to my mother, though. Exactly how much praise do I owe you?" She waited and was disappointed. "Well, too many cooks do spoil the soup. Or were they keeping you out of the kitchen? Is this another of Ikari's dirty little secrets that he still thinks is secret?"
He stayed at the entrance trying to decide what to do. It was the only way out.
"There's no need for dramatics, Shiro. I appreciate dedication to a role, but let's not diminish the situation. Besides, our audience is indisposed at the moment." She moved to rest her hands in her coat pockets.
"Sorry," he finally spoke, making her hesitate. "I wasn't prepared to see the results firsthand."
"I didn't figure you to be the squeamish type."
"I never had much tolerance for corpses, human or otherwise."
"I suppose not." The allusion forced a sympathetic smile to her lips, and her forearms folded across her stomach. "You didn't have to come. Didn't you trust me to carry out my end?" The smile turned playful.
"I never had any doubt. I just needed to see it for myself." Shiro forced his body to remain composed as she approached. "Now that I have, we shouldn't be lingering here. It won't be long before your mother restores power to the entire base."
"With all the chaos up there I doubt anyone's noticed we're gone. I don't want to offend you, but NERV won't rely on you for this sort of crisis. Everyone will probably think we're arrogantly trying to fix it despite that."
"Taking individual initiative here is never a choice," he told her, and moved aside. "Take the third access route. I've made sure it has enough charge for you to get out. I'll use the main path once the MAGI reconnects the main circuit. I'll at least have a credible excuse to be down here."
"Always thinking ahead," Ritsuko said in a smiling voice as she passed him. "Take care of mother, would you? And please take care of yourself, Shiro."
She left. The pale electric hum of the chamber was a low unwavering moan, the guttural growl preceding a death rattle. He watched the red settle inside the walls. The organs and bone from the dolls congregated in a thick mess suspended in the orange, a cloudy glass of an exotic cocktail.
"Damn it," he muttered in a shaky breath.
Shiro exited the chamber and followed Ritsuko down the path he advised her to take. He was slow to catch up, the strain to his leg and exhausted adrenaline of fear weighing heavily on his feet. The halls were indistinct with the murky red of NERV's emergency lighting. He refrained from using the flashlight, letting the darkness gather the necessary anger for what needed to be done.
He found Ritsuko at the mouth of a long corridor, flanked by four Section agents. Her voice drifted to him in vacillating waves of noise as she tried to convince them to let her pass. She went stiff and spun around as the staccato clack of his cane echoed up to her.
The agents stood at attention as they recognized Shiro, and he nodded in unspoken authority.
"Arrest her," he ordered.
A wisp of confused amusement wandered over Ritsuko's face as the men closed in. It turned to genuine surprise when her arms were forced behind her back and cold handcuffs snapped into place over her wrists.
"What is this?" The left corner of her mouth twitched up. "What are you doing? Don't tell me you're serious."
"Don't embarrass yourself," Shiro said. "What are you doing? I didn't think you were reckless enough to go through with anything like this. The Committee must be more desperate than I thought if they're willing to rely on you."
She shook her head as her mouth fell open.
"What do you mean—"
"The only reason anyone's ever bothered to pay you any attention is the delusion you have some kind of marginal use as an Akagi."
"You are serious." Ritsuko bristled as her face collapsed. Her mouth twisted into a bitter smirk and her eyes fell to the floor. "I see. Just a marginal use. I've made a career out of being used. I really do take after my mother." She looked up to glare at him. "I never expected you to protect Ikari this dutifully. You, of all people."
"It's a matter of priorities. Something you were never properly taught."
"Ever the disapproving schoolteacher. Lie to yourself however you want but don't presume to lecture me. I'm not one of your naïve underlings."
"Then stop acting like one."
"This had to happen sooner or later," she said.
"None of this is predetermined. Using fate to justify stupidity only shows how easily manipulated you are."
"You'd certainly know what manipulated people look like," Ritsuko bit out. "Do you even remember what it's like to tell the truth? What did you accomplish by deceiving me like this? I gave you exactly what you wanted: a real way to stop Ikari. To make him pay for what he's done. For what he's done to you."
She turned supplicant and leaned towards him, still restrained by the agents.
"It's too late to stop them all. The only thing that can be done is steer it to the least cataclysmic end. You have to realize that. You know firsthand how powerless we are in direct opposition, but you weren't seduced into this like Fuyutsuki or my mother. You don't have the blind arrogance of Yui, or the single-minded mania that possesses Gendo. You're the only one with the means and a real motivation to resist them. Why are you still playing the obedient soldier?"
"I told you," he said, "taking individual initiative here is never a choice. Ikari wouldn't leave me on my own during a security breach like this. And since I don't have the means of evading anyone…" He tapped his foot with the bottom of his cane. "… travelling secretly is impossible."
"Fine," Ritsuko snapped. "Arrest me. Then go back to licking Ikari's boots. I'm sure he'll give you a pat on the head for all your hard work." Her mouth twisted up into an acid sneer. "I was wrong about you. You sold your soul like the rest of them. If you think NERV can absolve you of your past you are sorely mistaken. Or was the memory of your daughter obliterated along with her body?"
His posture slowly shifted and Ritsuko felt a prick of fear. She already misjudged him once; maybe he'd forgo incarceration and mete out punishment right here.
"Sir?" one of the agents asked carefully.
"Take her into custody," Shiro told him, "and inform the Commander. Let him deal with it."
The men promptly began ushering her down the hall as she craned her neck to stare at him with pleading dread. She stumbled over the thin heels she insisted on wearing. He spoke to her through his teeth.
"Take care, Ritsuko."
He stared up at the fluorescent light embedded in his office's ceiling. It was humming again, the silent white noise he only noticed during its absence. Its glow was harsh and clinical. It made everything ashen. Surgery lights, he heard Naoko call them once.
The headache Shiro developed just skimming the preliminary report detailing Naoko's restoration of NERV's power made him decide it was just as well he left it to the professionals. He'd learn more than he wanted in the following days as projects were reviewed and reprioritized in accordance to the inevitable new budget and defense concerns.
It wasn't the idea of sabotage that frightened people; the base's normal security protocols were strict but not militaristic unless an active lockdown was in effect. What made the crew uneasy was how extensive and debilitating the assault was. Understanding as little as they did about the MAGI they understood any human attack that outwitted the computers had to be the work of a key insider.
Naoko's first act after reestablishing basic control with the diesel generators was to bring life support and security to NERV's lowest levels. Ritsuko's intimate knowledge of the MAGI allowed her to siphon enough power without drawing attention, gaining access to Terminal Dogma and deliver the killing blow to the Dummy system.
It was the only section of NERV's secreted bowels vulnerable to a small group of saboteurs. Even if someone broke in and found the Graveyard or Lilith all they could do was look. Eva corpses and giant crucified mother-gods weren't things someone could walk out the door with.
Shiro told that to Gendo during the quick debriefing he demanded. Ikari only questioned why he immediately left for Terminal Dogma when the power failed.
The Commander accepted, or at least tolerated, the explanation and dismissed him. He made no mention of Ritsuko, and Shiro did not ask. When Naoko was debriefed she'd have to suspect the likely fate awaiting her daughter. He'd worry about his own culpability if she inferred it. Shiro didn't make himself known for ardent defense of NERV's internal secrets or mole hunting, but he couldn't deny the curiousness or convenience of his actions.
Destroying the Dummy system wasn't a real way to stop Gendo at this point. At most, it was a dangerous inconvenience. Without the insurance of the spares Rei was no longer expendable and NERV was effectively down one pilot. Ikari would not permit her death yet, but he couldn't very well explain why to the staff. His favoritism towards her was already publically inferred so keeping her closer than usual wouldn't arouse any concern. The option to isolate her in a hospital remained open. Any obscure medical diagnosis would be accepted by the crew without question. They were conditioned to see the girl as an extension of Unit-00, at best. So did Ritsuko, but from awareness of the First's nature.
She wasn't surprised at all, Shiro thought. Seeing a room lined with teenage clones floating in a glorified fish tank should at least raise an eyebrow. How Ritsuko managed to find out was less troubling than her behavior.
When Naoko first told him of Rei's conception the only thing that shocked him was how quickly NERV accomplished it. He was well aware of theoretical applications regarding Angels. And although his initial efforts made NERV and its creations possible, seeing the end results always gave him a reflexive stab of nausea.
Aside from her outward composure Ritsuko acted like Shiro was part of an extended party within NERV who carried out the strike against Ikari. He could only conclude while it may not have been initiated on SEELE's behest, it was at least executed by Kaji.
He was using a needlessly roundabout approach to stop NERV. The only realistic way Shiro saw to bring the gears to a halt was eliminating the top three: Gendo, Fuyutsuki and Naoko. The actual assassinations would be simple with the proper resources. The aftermath would be chaos.
He reluctantly admitted Ikari was the only person capable of opposing SEELE in open conflict when it came to that inevitable end. This was the prelude, sure to be explained away by Kiel as an isolated act by a jealously unstable daughter chasing on her mother's apron strings. Whatever the rationale, their underlying message was unmistakable: we can get to you any time we wish. But the blackout alone communicated that point clearly. Any further measure was unnecessary.
And where did Ritsuko's familiarity with the Dummy system come from? He wondered. What are they really doing in Germany now that they don't possess an Eva?
A rap on the office door sent Shiro's hand to the gun in his desk before he could stop himself. The innate paranoia spawned from self-preservation made him keep it there. The cold metal stung his palm.
"It's Ikari Shinji," came from outside to the unasked question. "Are you there, Dr. Katsuragi?"
"I'm here," he answered after a brief hesitation. "The door is open."
A hydraulic track hissed and slid the panel into the wall, revealing a haggard and disheveled boy. His eyes darted up once to confirm the doctor was present and alone, then returned to the floor. His left foot jerked forward before freezing.
"May I come in?"
"Please." He stayed seated at his desk. The gun's metal was warm under his hand. He saw Shinji's lip was swollen and stained with a thick purple bruise. "Take a seat," he said as he saw him linger under the threshold.
Shinji approached, startling slightly as the door automatically shut at his back. He shuffled across the room and warily settled in the offered chair.
"I know the office isn't very inviting," Shiro said by way of apology, "but if NERV was concerned about hospitality it wouldn't be underground."
It really was a bleak room, he thought. The chaos of Naoko's office granted a disorganized warmth that clearly spoke of human occupation. Shiro possessed a more conventional system. Aside from the necessary files, equipment, and a meager collection of accessories including an ashtray for Naoko, the room was as ascetic as when he first saw it.
"Can I help you with something?" He twisted in his chair to face his visitor, the edge of the desk hiding his body.
Shinji had wilted in his seat like a dead flower. His head was slung down, the chin resting over his chest. His back bowed under its own weight. Shiro noticed he was wearing his undershirt: the top of his school uniform was gone.
"If I…" He trailed off, still staring at the floor. The hands in his lap curled around each other. The knuckles were white. Finally a long breath slithered from his throat and Shinji spoke. "Could you tell me about my mother?"
Shiro's hand slipped away from the gun with a caress.
"Of course."
End of chapter 8
Author notes: show of hands. Who saw Touji's exit coming? Predictable, but it will hopefully lead to some unexpected things. Next time: Leli-chan is introduced and subsequently killed, Asuka discovers bodies are overrated, and Rei develops a sweet tooth. I'll explain her reasoning for murder and mayhem so don't bitch at me yet.
Waste of space notes: during the power outage episode, how come Section 2 didn't pick the kids up? Wouldn't they have a security detail on them in the city? Then again, that wouldn't facilitate the events the creators wanted to portray. Just like it wouldn't facilitate the crap I wanted to portray here.
OMAKE. SO OBVIOUS IT DIDN'T NEED TO BE WRITTEN.
Shinji followed Rei through the thematically cliché long and dark hallway, which was symbolic of his lack of direction in life, his willingness to follow others, and confusion regarding his sexual orientation. She was faster than he imagined she'd be in a pitch-black hallway. Since Shinji was afraid of the dark and desperately, desperately lonely, he broke into a full panic-stricken weepy sprint after the cold, emotionless, scary, tactless, awkward, possibly evil girl who bothered to sort of pay attention when he spoke.
She slipped through a door and he dove after her, skidding to a halt at her feet. Rei stepped over him and locked the door, bolted it, fused it shut with a blowtorch, and swallowed the key.
Shinji took a break from tasting the floor to scan the room. There was a large heart-shaped rotating bed on a dais in the center, slowly revolving beneath an oversized mirror mounted on the ceiling. Blue silk sheets flowed over it to the floor like a waterfall. Flower petals dotted the bed, and the scent of lilac tickled his nose.
Then Shinji noticed the leather straps hanging from the headboard. And the assortment of whips, flails and paddles lined up on a rack next to it. Ball gags, handcuffs, clothespins, candles and spools of thick rope littered a pair of bedside tables. Professional-grade video equipment was strategically positioned around the room. Shinji began to feel worried.
"What is this?" he breathed.
"An opportunity," she said.
