Mahara mahara Mosura
Tama tama Mosura
Laban guerra labanan
Laban guerra labanan
Mahara mahara Mosura
Tama tama Mosura
- A portion of the "Love of Mothra" chant, as sung by the natives of Infant Island during their prayers to the kaiju. Curiously, it appears that, despite the adversity of Second Impact, the island was relatively unscathed...
==/*\==
Two days after the defeat of the Fifth Angel
When most people imagined 'spy', they conjure the image of a gentleman in a nice suit, with a glass of chianti in one hand and a silenced pistol in the other. They think of them breaking in secret facilities, or decrypting complex files that contain vital information. After all, espionage was a very real thing, so why wouldn't operatives need to do such missions?
The truth, of course, was quite different.
Kaji took a sip of his coffee and leaned back on the city bench, a faint smile on his face. The day was hot and humid, with a promise of summer rain; typical weather in post-Impact Japan. The afternoon sun warmed his face as he read the newspaper, and he could feel beads of sweat rolling down his forehead from the heat.
Most of the time, espionage involved going about your everyday life, even using your real identity. In an age of advanced computers, an alias wouldn't last for long, and only serve to draw attention. The key was to make sure that your activities were, at least on the outside, innocuous. As far as the world was concerned, Ryouji Kaji was an inspector at NERV, and nothing more.
The sound of a crowd bustling down the street reached his ears, and he glanced up from his newspaper to see that school had ended. Students walked down the sidewalks, along with adults whose shifts had ended for the day. His former ward walked around a corner and out of sight, accompanied by the Commander's son. Section II agents were among the crowd, poorly disguised. The average person wouldn't be able to tell the difference, but it was almost painfully obvious to Kaji's trained eyes.
Something blue moved in the corner of his eye, and he turned to see the Ayanami girl walk down a different route than usual. She moved quickly, with what seemed with a sense of purpose, and Kaji watched as her hidden guards hurriedly tried to follow after her. It seemed that they were just as off guard as he was.
Well, that was certainly suspicious.
With an air of forced casualness, he grabbed his cellphone and typed out a text message. As soon as he pressed send, he was on his feet, coffee in hand. Taking one last glance at where the Ayanami girl had gone, he began to walk back to his apartment. There was no point in blowing his cover to investigate; that job would fall to someone else. Still, the holstered gun pressing against his side gave him a small amount of comfort as he walked home.
The world had changed, and only time would tell how much the game had changed with it.
==/*\==
Rei stood on the sidewalk, staring at the small house before her. It was older than most she had seen, with its aged-looking walls and worn steps. The neighborhood was one of the few living remnants of Old Tokyo, from what she had read, and she certainly felt as though she had traveled back to an earlier time, before Second Impact.
She looked down at the slip of paper in her hand. The address was the same, and there was no indication in her research that the person residing in it had moved away or died. Putting the slip in her pocket, she walked across the lawn and up the steps, and knocked on the peeling door.
There was a few moments of silence, then she could hear muffled footsteps as someone approached the door. Slowly, it opened, revealing an old man. He wore a worn brown jacket and slacks, with a pair of wireframe glasses over his nose. He peered at Rei, his wrinkled brow furrowed.
"Can I help you, young miss?" he asked gently.
"Are you Professor Shinichi Chujo, of the Infant Island expedition?"
"I haven't been in a university for a long time," the man replied. "Who are you?"
"Rei Ayanami."
"The pilot I read about in the newspaper? I am surprised to see you here; is there something you wish to learn?"
"I am here to ask you about this," Rei said, holding up the small stone for Chujo to see.
At once, something behind the old professor's eyes lit up, and he straightened with an air of urgency. "Come in, come in. Quickly now."
Rei stepped inside, slipping off her shoes. The house seemed to consist of a living room that doubled as a study, with a bedroom and kitchen behind an open doorway. Books cluttered a large desk, and Rei could see that the walls were lined with bookcases packed to the brim with old volumes.
"I don't get many visitors," Professor Chujo said, brushing past her to attend to a kettle. "Would you like some tea?"
"Yes, please," she replied, recalling the courtesies the Commander had taught her.
The professor carefully set a tray down on a small table, and gestured for Rei to sit. She did as told, gently setting down the stone before her. Professor Chujo sat down as well, pouring himself a small cup of green tea. Rei poured herself some as well, and warily took a sip. It was certainly better than what she drank on base along with her medication, and she drank more readily.
"Now," Professor Chujo began, "may I ask how you came across this stone?"
"It... is a strange story, one I am not sure I can tell," Rei replied. "I dreamt of something that seemed almost familiar, and the stone was beside me when I woke."
"That is how it was with me," the professor murmured, leaning back in his chair. "I thought I had gone mad at first..."
"Do you know what the stone is? I have seen it around M- someone's neck, as a pendant, and all I could gather was that you knew about it."
"I'm not surprised," Professor Chujo said. "A great deal of knowledge was lost in Second Impact, especially pertaining to the religion of Mothra."
"Mothra? You mean the kaiju that has fought alongside Godzilla on many occasions?"
"She is far more than a mere beast, Miss Ayanami. Mothra is a being of great mystical power, one older than humanity. A goddess, for all intents and purposes."
"You are an esteemed archaeologist," Rei said, her brow furrowed. "Yet you believe in magic?"
"I believe that the proper term is 'applied metaphysics', though it bears many other names. Magic is one of them, though it carries with it a most unfortunate stigma. I believe that, in time, we will understand magic just as easily as we do chemistry or medicine. For now, however, it remains something that we scarcely know of, and thereby we decry it as unscientific hokum."
"I see," Rei murmured.
"I was skeptical at first, just as you are now," the professor said. "When I went to Infant Island, my interest in Mothra was solely in the manner of how we look at the gods of Greece and Egypt. But when I saw the Shobijin for the first time, and saw a goddess perform miracles to save them from the clutches of Nelson Clark, I was reminded that there are things that remain inscrutable to Man."
Rei took another sip of her tea. "The Shobijin. They were Mothra's priestesses, were they not?"
"More or less. They are part of her, in their own way. Twins, scarcely more than six inches high, and capable of great magic. They used to preach of Mothra's good will many years ago, and a great deal of people began to follow their faith. The cross you see there is the symbol of the Church of Mothra."
Thunder rumbled outside, and rain began to patter on the windows. Professor Chujo glanced outside, and Rei could sense the weight the years had on the man.
"The world used to be so full," the professor said wistfully. "So full of wonders, of potential. Now we struggle to rise from the ashes of the old world and build a new one. The titans that walked the land are all but gone, and with them went our hopes, our faiths. I've continued on with my research, and it has taken me to... strange things. Terrible things. I fear that the worst has yet to come, Miss Ayanami; I can only hope that we will endure."
Rei looked down at her tea, watching as steam rose from the surface. Her mind wandered to her dream, to the massive tree. If she focused enough, she could see the outline of something hanging from the branches, but she could not see what it was.
"Godzilla has returned," she found herself saying. "As have the others. It is classified information at the moment, but it will be announced, soon."
Professor Chujo's eyes widened, and Rei could sense that his mind was swiftly working something out. Slowly, he rose from his chair, then he went over to his desk. Opening a drawer, he produced a large waterproof bag and began to stuff it full of notebooks and papers.
"I am an old man," he said, glancing at the cover of a notebook before placing it in. "I am too weak and tired to continue my research, but I feel that you can follow in my footsteps, Miss Ayanami. I've spent fifty years gathering information about anything related to Mothra and the other kaiju, as well as other things. Rumors, scraps of evidence; I've also gathered a lot regarding some Shinto and Muuan legends."
He held up the bag, and offered it to Rei. She stared for a few moments, then rose from her chair and took it.
"All hope may not be lost, Miss Ayanami," the professor continued. "There are malevolent factions and forces at play, not all of them human. If you were to uncover the truth, the whole truth, then something may be done about them."
"Thank you, Professor," Rei said, shouldering the bag.
The old man smiled kindly. "You best be leaving soon, Miss Ayanami. And good luck."
Rei nodded. Before she could turn to leave, however, the professor suddenly stooped down and grabbed an umbrella. He handed it to her, chuckling.
"Wouldn't want you to catch a cold."
Rei accepted the old man's gift, then headed for the door.
==/*\==
Shinichi Chujo grabbed an old photograph from his desk, brushing away dust with a wrinkled thumb. It showed a young man, a beaming smile on his face as he stood with his wife on their wedding day, and he found himself smiling back. Carrying the photograph with him, he sat down and poured himself some tea, his smile faded. The rain came down hard, a constant drumming on the windows. His eyes stayed on the door, watching.
How would they do it? After what he had told her, there was no way they would let him live; he was a loose end, one that had stayed under the radar for years. He knew little about the factions at play, but he knew that they would not appreciate an old scientist revealing the truth to someone else, someone that couldn't simply be silenced.
He realized his arthritic hands were shaking, and he inhaled deeply through his nostrils, taking in the musty smell of his study. It was calming, the familiar smell of home, and he managed to quell the tremors in his hands. He sipped his tea, relishing in the taste, and closed his eyes. He considered grabbing an old bottle of sake from his drawer, but he decided against it; he would not cloud his mind for the last moments of his life.
He also decided against grabbing his old service pistol. It would do him no good; he had never actually shot at a human being before, and he didn't want to die while pitifully trying to save himself. If he was to pass on, then it would be with a silent dignity.
Grabbing the photograph, he kissed his the faded outline of his wife's face with trembling lips, then set it back down.
Thunder cracked outside, and he hated how he jolted in his chair. You'd never hear the one that got you, so why jump at every sound? The silence would be your concern. He sighed deeply, eyes still fixed on the door. He took in every feature of it, every missing flake of paint, every scratch, for it would be the last time he could.
Finally, it opened.
A man in a black suit stood in the doorway, water dripping off his frame, then collapsed. Arterial blood spurted from an invisible wound in the would-be assassin's back, and Chujo realized that the man had been stabbed. Killed trying to reach the doorway, but by whom?
He received his answer. Another man stepped inside, tall and burly. He looked at Chujo with dark eyes, water dripping down his bushy mustache. Something glinted in the low lighting, before being hidden away in a thick trench coat. A sword, most likely.
"It's good to see you're still alive and kicking, professor," the man said.
"I thought you were dead," Chujo muttered, a look of disbelief on his face. "Killed in Second Impact, along with everyone else on that island."
The man chuckled. "Should've known better. Now, come on, professor; we need to get you out of here. The cameras around here will be booting back up, and I don't want to be there when that happens."
Chujo rose from his chair, still shaky, and stepped forward. The man handed him an umbrella, then gestured outside.
"Where are you taking me?" the professor asked.
"Where it all began," the man replied. "And where it'll all end. Now, after you."
With that, they both stepped out into the rain.
==/*\==
Rei's Apartment
It was slow work, carefully removing all the papers and getting them back into order. Many of the older sheets were smudged and yellowed with age, the professor's neat scrawl almost faded. Nonetheless, she managed to carefully array all the sheets and notebooks, organizing them by both subject matter and age. She sat on the floor of her apartment in a lotus position, looking at her handiwork, then began to think.
Where to start? The professor was quite meticulous in his note-taking, and there were decades worth of information splayed out on the floor.
Rei rubbed her head absentmindedly, then winced. She could still remember the sheer force of Godzilla's mind, when he had come to fight the Fifth Angel. She had felt the minds of others in the past, gleaming their surface emotions and intents, but it was nothing like when she saw the kaiju's eyes boring into her own. Their link was a one-sided one; she had to avoid detection in the past, but she feared that would no longer be the case. If he were to finally notice her, would he try to force her out? Such results, based on studies performed by Miki Saegusa in the '80s, could prove fatal for her.
She dismissed the thought for the time being, and decided to focus more on her research. She grabbed one of the closer notebooks and studied its cover, her crimson eyes narrowed. It was fairly new, especially when compared to the notes on Mothra, and had the word 'Ikusagami' scrawled on the front. Flipping it open, she saw that the professor had wedged in a photo, which appeared to be of a stone etching. Peering closer, she saw that it was of an armored warrior, wielding a flaming sword against an eight-headed serpent.
Leaning against the frame of her bed, she began to read.
==/*\==
School, the next day
A newspaper slammed down on Shinji's desk, jolting him out of a daydream. Toji and Kensuke stood in front of him, wide grins on their faces.
"What is it?" he asked. "Is it about the Angel attack?"
Toji shook his head. "Nope, not just that. Look at it."
Sighing, Shinji did as told, only for his eyes to widen. In the center of the front page were two pictures, side by side. The one on the left showed Godzilla, raising his head in a triumphant roar over the liquefied remains of the Angel, while Rodan soared in the background. What caught Shinji's attention, however, was the second picture, which clearly showed himself flying away from the battlefield.
KING OF THE MONSTERS RETURNS, the headline read. GODZILLA AIDS IN DEFEATING ANGEL, ALONGSIDE MYSTERIOUS 'ULTRAMAN'.
"Ultraman?" Shinji mumbled, still trying to recover from the shock.
"I came up with the name," Kensuke said proudly, puffing up his chest. "The company paid us more than a hundred thousand yen for the photos; Toji and I are splitting it."
"That's cool," Shinji said, forcing a smile. "So, you guys actually snuck out?"
"Yeah, and we didn't even get caught or nothin'," Toji said.
There was a sudden drop in the room's temperature, and Shinji realized that Asuka had walked over, eyes fixed on the newspaper. Toji and Kensuke became as still as statues, as though she wouldn't be able to see them if they were motionless.
"What, they put that silver loser on the page, and not me?" she grumbled, folding her arms over her chest. "I was the one to get the kill shot!"
"Well, er, maybe you're classified?" Shinji offered. "Maybe they think you're too valuable an asset, and they want it under wraps."
That seemed to work. Asuka's glare softened, and she jerked her chin up, as though the newspaper was giving off a horrible odor.
"Well, that makes sense," she said, whipping her hair back. "Still think they're focusing too much on that 'Ultraman" - she made air quotes - "loser."
She walked away, and warmth returned to the land. Shinji let out a sigh of relief, then glanced back at his friends. They had visibly relaxed as well, something that struck him as funny, considering just how boastful they had been not a minute earlier.
"Somethin' tells me we shouldn't mention that her name's in the paper," Toji said, glancing back at Asuka's receding form.
"Not if you value your life," Shinji replied.
"How can you even live with that Red Devil?" Kensuke asked. "I think I'd end up smothering her with a pillow after three days."
I hope he's just making a joke, Hayata remarked.
"She's not always like that, you know. There's definitely a sweet side to her, but there's also a lot of anger. I think she's been really stressed out by everything that's been happening."
"You must be like some sort of wise shaman if you can say that with a straight face," Toji muttered. "Either that, or I want whatever ya been smokin'."
What does inhaling smoke have to do with this? Hayata asked.
Never mind, Shinji hastily replied. Let's focus on other stuff, like how everyone's seen us.
Well, they see the 'Ultraman' when they look at the picture; they do not see Shinji Ikari. As long as we stay hidden when we need to fight, there's no reason for them to suspect us.
Fair enough, I guess.
Indeed, Hayata replied. Ultraman. Hmm. I actually like that name. I've been given names on other worlds, when I bonded with a native; many of them can't be pronounced by humans. I wouldn't be surprised if the people here named me something else the last time I visited.
I have to ask you about that, when we have plenty of time, Shinji thought.
When don't we have time?
"Uh, Earth ta Shinji," Toji said, waving a hand in front of Shinji's face. "You there?"
"Yeah, just dazed off a little," he mumbled in reply.
Ah, I see, Hayata murmured.
==/*\==
Commander Ikari's Office
"The UN fleet carrying Unit-02 is rounding the Cape of Good Hope," SEELE 01 rasped. "It will be due to arrive within two weeks."
Gendo nodded. "We are already compiling its plug data and comparing it to the candidates selected by the Marduk Institute."
"Are you suggesting that the Second Child stay with Unit-01?" SEELE 04 inquired.
"I am stating that there will be three Evangelions available, but only two pilots," came the swift reply. "It would be wise to select another Child for piloting. The Second Child has shown herself to be quite adept with Unit-01; it would take a low synch rate on the behalf of the new pilot for her to be transferred back to Unit-02."
"There is still the matter of the Sixth," SEELE 02 said. "If it were to attack the fleet at a critical moment-"
"Once the fleet is within range, I intend to have Unit-01 flown over," Gendo interrupted. "To test underwater equipment, of course. Unit-00 and the First Child will remain in Tokyo-3."
"What of the Leviathan?" asked SEELE 03. "It is possible that it may fight the Angel, should it attack. And there is still the matter of the interloper; it has proven itself to be a thorn in the side."
Gendo decided not to mention the results on the so-called interloper's blood pattern. Knowledge was power, after all, and he needed every shred of it if he wanted to challenge the old men.
"As it stands, the order is to capture or kill the interloper if possible," he finally said. "It would be a simple matter to get in a dangerous situation; it is already willing to throw itself into them."
"It cannot be allowed to remain, Ikari," SEELE 01 said. "At the end of all things, there can only be God."
The holograms vanished, and Gendo leaned back in his seat. Fuyutsuki took a step forward, hands clasped behind his back.
"What were the results of the interloper's blood pattern, may I ask?"
"That is not important at the moment," Gendo replied.
"That concerning, I see," Fuyutsuki sighed. "I take it the old men are going to try something?"
"Their tact can be quite lacking at times. The Leviathan is currently near old Mumbai'i, draining the residual radiation; it would be easy for it to arrive at any confrontation regarding the fleet. And I'm sure they are hiding whatever they can from us."
"I'll begin the preparations for the air transport," Fuyutsuki said. The old man turned to leave, then paused. "Wasn't there an old Red Bamboo base near the route the fleet is taking?"
A nod. "A perfect excuse for anything that may happen."
"I'll advise the fleet to up their security, then" Fuyutsuki said.
Gendo watched as the old professor left, then pulled up a phone and dialed a number.
"Akagi speaking," a tired voice said. "What is it, Commander?"
"Tell me. What is the progress on Project O?"
You have been reading:
Leviathan, Chapter Eight: Shadows of the Past
