Fuyutsuki tossed a sheaf of papers on the commander's desk. "The situation is becoming untenable."

"The Dawkins protocols will hold for a while longer. The MAGI are functioning perfectly."

I'm not talking about SEELE. I'm talking about your son."

"What of the Third?"

The Sub-Commander waved at the papers, growing increasingly aggravated with each point of data."Voice Stress analysis, sleep studies performed by Section 2, Akagi's physicals, telemetry from Evangelion simulations. Between the scenario's initial psychological sculpting, on top of his Exaltation, and your isolation, the boy is on his way towards a psychotic break."

Gendo took up the papers and leafed through them, glasses for once clear. His eyes tracked from word to word while Fuyutsuki cooled down. The commander looked up. "Veracity?"

Fuyutsuki stood up straighter. "I had the MAGI run through the analysis, a two-of-three consensus. And before you ask, I've already accounted for the conspiracy buffer."

A grunt followed. "Understood. Who was the dissenter?"

"Caspar."

The younger man set the papers down and shifted in his seat, threading his fingers together and tilting his head just so. He was quiet for a long moment.

"Thank you, Fuyutsuki-Sensei. The matter will be attended to."

Fuyutsuki felt a chill run down his spine.

Misato leaned over a console, frowning. "What the hell is the Dawkins protocol, and why is it taking up... Seventeen percent of the MAGI's operational budget?"

Ritsuko kicked back in her chair and rolled to another counter, where a warm cup of coffee waited. "Who are you and what have you done with Katsuragi Misato."

The dark haired woman huffed and stood up, planting her hands on her hips and twisting her mouth to one side. "Hey! I know my way around computers, and it's not like the screens are hard to read."

Ritsuko shook her head and sighed, rolling back to her primary station. She tapped a few keys to unlock it while answering. "If you must know, the Dawakins Protocol is a memetic filter and conditioning program. It's a security measure in case NERV needs to execute information warfare."

"...So?"

"It's named after Richard Dawkins, who more or less popularized the idea of memes and natural selection applied to cultures. Basically Darwinism for ideas."

"Okay... So why are we using it?"

"Because of the Third Child's glowing problem."

"It's not a problem."

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's not a problem! I mean it's weird and scary and I'm sure you're just pulling your hair out over it, but he's a sweetie, and he's done nothing to hurt anyone!"

Ritsuko sucked on her teeth. "Be that as it may, orders are orders, and anything to do with Shinji's new status is being carefully scrubbed from all outgoing media. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, Shinji is just a pilot."

Misato reigned in her temper. "So why again is this Dawkins thing running?"

"The Magi are scrubbing out every scrap of digital information and media coverage on the Third's powers. Footage is being edited and seamlessly reinserted."

"...How much is there really? He's never done the glowing gold stuff outside of his Evangelion."

"More than you'd think. and the roof of your apartment, for one. If you were wondering what that EFJ-17 reduction in your pay was, it was allowing him to perform his experiments out in the open."

The fault was unexpected in its simplicity. The Geofront's primary power source was a trio of fusion reactors buried off site of Central Dogma. However, those reactors were tasked with powering the majority of Tokyo-3, and the critical Project-E facilities. Other regions of the base were run on conventional, if highly efficient pre-impact power generators, natural gas most notably.

The Prinbow Box housed the Evangelion simulation bodies, and for the moment, was the site of Unit-00's reactivation test. Also on site for further analysis were the remains of Shamshel, the fourth Angel.

A gas line, perfectly mundane in construction and purpose. Its length went in straight, unbroken lines throughout the complex, terminating in furnaces that in turn heated and powered great chunks of the complex.

Ritsuko was a cautious person by nature. She didn't take risks if she could avoid them, and only once bet on 'A Sure Thing'. The horse unfortunately was lame, and the scientist wisely decided to never listen to Misato again, with regards to gambling. Or to ever gamble again, for that matter.

But she was also a scientist, and that meant Certainty was part of her daily life. So was uncertainty, but the math checked out. Reassured by her calculations, the head of Project-E indulged in her flair for the dramatic. A significant portion of NERV, including the Commander and Sub-Commander, were in attendance for Unit-0's successful reactivation. Granted it had already done so successfully two days ago, but a ceremony would be good for morale and break up the doldrums.

After that one incredibly embarrassing, cryptic and outright weird conversation with the girl, Shinji was, for lack of a better term, interested in Ayanami Rei. He understood the feelings of sexual attraction well enough to know he wasn't lusting after her, at least not consciously. But she was a mystery. After that day she never remained in the same room if she could help it, but he somehow wasn't offended. She always greeted him and bade him goodbye, even as she moved to avoid him with utmost efficiency.

A mystery to say the least. Aloof, not disdainful. Un-socialized, not withdrawn.

Now he was struck with a new piece of information. Rei, who was normally someone who apparently could not smile, did so in the presence of his father. She was animated, girlish and charmingly energetic, and all of it directed at the taciturn man. It was baffling.

Feeling his stomach churn, Shinji leaned back against a bench and willed his stomach to settle. A brief pulse of power within his body responded, and he visibly relaxed.

Misato leaned into the wall over him. Her hair fell over one shoulder in a silky curtain, and she smiled. "Excited?"

"Huh?"

"Are you excited? If this test goes off without a hitch, you won't be the only active pilot. I don't know about you, but I feel a whole hell of a lot more comfortable having two Evangelions ready to fight."

Shinji shrugged weakly. "I suppose... I'm not much of a fighter though..."

"Shinij-kun, need I remind you that it was your idea to grapple with an Angel to make sure an N2 mine hit it full on? That's not just being a fighter, that's being soldier." She sat down next to him before he could respond. "I don't think I told you that. I had to chew you out as soon as possible, for the lesson to stick. But I was scared when you did that."

She leaned back and sighed. "Being a soldier... It's knowing when to sacrifice yourself, for a greater cause... I think you understood that back in that fight." She sighed. "Unfortunately, a lot of soldiers die for no real reason, their lives are wasted, not spent."

The teenager turned to look up at her. "Misato-san...?"

She gave him a wan grin. "It's tough. I'm not just a soldier, I'm a commanding officer. I may have to make the choice to send you or any other pilot to their death... I don't want to, but I may have to."

She shook her head. "Man I hate this maudlin crap. C'mon, let's go bug Ritsuko about all the shiny buttons and knobs. I think you being there aggravates her. The whole..." She waved at her forehead. "That thing."

Shinji let out a two-note laugh while the older woman pulled him up and dragged him to find their resident mad scientist.

The procedure was simple: synchronize with the Evangelion.

As Shinji learned the hard way, this was a subjective experience, and not one that could be properly codified into a manual. Rei, since the day she first stepped into an Evangelion, knew that it did not like her. Without the shackles and restraints placed upon it, even her own iron will could not subdue it.

But today she could. If she had words to describe it, her synchronization was akin to going down, into her own mind and personality. To find that one point of commonality between herself and the Evangelion. To Doctor Akagi's ever increasing vexation, however, that point never stayed consistent... And so Unit-0 was always at a risk of going mad.

It was fortunate that Rei was the most persistent, methodical person NERV had ever known.

Ritsuko was in rare form. Well rested, only mildly caffeinated , and supplementing her single allowed cigarette with at least one nicotine patch. "Well, here we are ladies and gentlemen. If we're successful here, we'll have reached or goal of sixty-six percent activation rate. That means we can use Unit-0 in combat. We all know its the prototype, and well... buggy, but between Rei and our own efforts, we've got this locked down."

Behind her were six-inch thick armored glass panels, windows into the test chamber itself. Consoles hummed reassuringly, and NERV technicians were eager to show their stuff. Maya stood next to the doctor, portable terminal clasped under her arms and looking pert and full of sunshine. Shigeru and Makoto were at their stations, initiating pre-test checks, but smiling widely.

The primary control room was filled with NERV employees and support staff, most people standing elbow to elbow. Other observation decks were similarly packed, and more than a few people were watching via live video feed.

Forming an unlikely trio were Fuyutsuki, Misato and Shinji, standing with the best view of the orange Evangelion. Rei sat on the edge of the released plug, a concession to showmanship on Ritsuko's part. It clicked then in many people's minds just how big the Evangelions were, seeing the tiny teenage girl sitting on the spine of a monster-mecha.

The Commander was also in attendance, but elsewhere in the Prinbow Box. A backlog of paperwork from the JSSDF forced him to miss the initial activation sequence.

Rei stood and looked down at the main control room. "I am ready to begin."

Ritsuko nodded. "Alright Rei, you know what to do." She turned to the scientists, engineers and technicians who all made this possible. "We're starting the activation test."

Rei nodded, and sealed the plug behind her. Shigeru and Hyuga bent to their tasks, initiating the sequence. Their fingers flew over keyboards and input commands with practiced ease. This was just like the dry rehearsals and the previous test two days ago. It worked then, it should work now.

Should.

In turn, the men and women at the consoles spoke out. "Syncrograph start."

"Connect primary contacts."

"All processes are tracking forward and clear."

"Minor fluctuations in EKG, within safe margins."

"Good, we're at Stage One. Start Stage Two." Ritsuko turned back to the audience. "Stage One's the easy part. When Rei makes it past Stage Two, she'll have synchronized, and we'll be good to go."

She nodded to Shigeru. "Connecting secondary contacts."

"A-10 nerve connection, normal."

"Configure the language logic interface for Japanese."

"All preliminary contacts established. Performance nominal."

"Bi-Directional circuits are open."

"Synchronization at thirty-nine point six percent."

"Harmonics are... Fluctuating, but within acceptable limits."

Rei's vision swam as the plug walls dissolved into sheets of colors and symbols, before finally fading away until she could only see and feel through the Evangelion and the wetware interface. Unit-0 stood a bit straighter within its restraints.

"I have synchronized."

The furnace was a top of the line model, barely three years old and in perfect condition. It was installed with all due caution and foresight. Automated systems would detect any gas leaks and immediately shut the furnace down before triggering fire suppression systems.

The equipment was at an excellent standard. Routine maintenance was not. Those sensors had short-circuited, feeding a constant cycle of good status to the failsafes, while their leads ended on dead gas-sniffing terminals.

A tiny bit of weakened metal in one gas line in turn became a crack, that in turn lead to a raging firestorm.

The Prinbow box was a study in compromises. The fire itself was hot, deadly and raging onward as it burnt through more gas, found more sustainable fuel elsewhere in the lower floors, and in turn defeated the countermeasures that would've prevented further gas leaks. Pipes melted and burst into flame and the heat grew higher and hotter. Alarms screamed down every hall as emergency lights flashed.

But for all of that, the Prinbow Box would not have fallen, if not for being ahead of schedule and under budget.

That is to say, with corners cut.

Concrete support pillars were incorrectly assembled, and the cavities and channels that allowed for pre-stressed construction in turn became brittle rock surrounding sealed air pockets. The pillars cracked and shattered, great swaths of load bearing material sloughing away to reveal rebar and badly cured material within. The upper floors and test chamber walls began to groan and creak under the strain, while the people above grabbed on to anything they could reach.

Then the blaze reached a main gas hub, and life for a great many people suddenly became interesting.

...Dreams? Memories? Where am I. What am I?

She tasted blood, but she couldn't tell if it was hers or not. It was also green and angry.

The sky was lit across the horizon with towering pillars of gold and silver light. Impossible... things moved off in the far distance, rendered murky by atmosphere as much as their own intrinsic nature. The great city of the gods that rose up to surround Meru was riven by war and weapons of reality distortion. The Green Sun shone high above, sickly and punishing, but at the same time restrained. She knew the only reason they weren't all dead from that light was the Deva's inherent strength of character.

Noble or not, the war to end all wars was not going well. She couldn't begin to count how many were wounded, and the dead piled in even higher numbers. The world stank like an abattoir, and it was all she could do to keep hope alive. They would win.

They had to.

Nearby, one of her circle was bent over a man whose body had been quite frankly exploded. The doctor hadn't even bothered to strip out of his blood spattered armor. With one glowing hand he held a plant bulb, forcing that light and reaffirming power of Righteousness into it. The bulb sprouted tendrils and roots that grew around his hand, and half a second later, he drove the growing bulb into the warrior's ruined torso.

The roots and vines surged through, oozing foam and pulling closed rent flesh. Organs were wrapped in careful vegetation, and in a few seconds, the man was mostly whole.

The Doctor saw her then. The lower half of his face was open to the air behind his lion-mask. He smiled. One life saved.

Untold trillions to go. Including themselves.

The voice was perfect in modulation and tone, repeated with utmost care to be as consistent as humanly posisble. Only one person could speak like that.

"-Octor Akagi. Doctor Akagi. Wake Up Please."

"R-Rei? What?" Ritsuko regained consciousness with a racking cough, choking on grit and foul chemical smoke. The whole test observatory had listed, sagging into a pit while a great deal of the test chamber walls had collapsed into each other. Through the smoke and fumes, she could see Unit-0, still active, but bracing one of the wall panels against itself. It hadn't gone berserk and killed them all, so they had that going for them.

Rei was brief in her reply. "There was an explosion below. Many people are injured. I did not want to move, as I may get in the way."

Ritsuko coughed again and clutched her arm. Her hand came away bloody. "Th-That's great Rei. You did fine- MAYA! STATUS!"

Makoto waved a flashlight through the muck, cradling the young woman in his other arm. "Maya's down ma'am, concussion it looks like." He pointed the beam at a console. "Bank C's still got power and telemetry."

Ritsuko crawled over to the console and brushed the screen clear of grit. Unit-0 was still on umbilical power, and that was from the fusion plants. She turned and tried to see through the gloom. Emergency lights were starting to come on, and alarms were ringing throughout the complex. She was starting too see far too many people down and bleeding.

Whirling around, she coughed again. "Katsuragi! Commander! Fuyutsuki-Sensei!"

The Sub-Commander groaned. "We're here Akagi-kun."

Ritsuko turned and saw Misato, Fuyutsuki and Shinji behind a fallen support beam. Shinji was wrapping his bloody hands with pieces of his uniform button-down while Misato rubbed his back. The Sub-Commander looked haggard and shaken, but his eyes were focused.

The scientist shook her head to clear it before turning her attention back to the orange Evangelion. "Rei! Can you talk to topside?"

The Evangelion shifted slightly. "Radio communications still function, Doctor Akagi."

"Good! You'll have to coordinate for triage and emergency medical. Can you do that? It's training kernel C-6."

"I remember that kernel." The line clicked off.

Slowly, space was cleared for the wounded. The air was hot and gritty, and what was left of the ventilation system groaned under the strain of moving so much dead air. A battery powered lantern filled the observation room with rich, incandescent gold light. Ritsuko was about to light up a crinkled cigarette, before Fuyutsuki gave her a Look and shook his head.

She slowly lowered the lighter.

Misato coughed. "So... What's our status?"

Ritsuko leaned over the sketched map of the Sigma Unit, and Prinbow Box within. Large swaths were scribbled out in permanent marker. "Most of the complex has collapsed in some way or another. Ventilation's shot to hell. We've got no power, people who need medical attention..."

The lantern guttered out, its batter old and dead. The twenty or so men and women in the chamber felt the darkness rush in to crush them.

Then the room was lit with the light of the sun, and Shinji sat there, grinning sheepishly between the Sub-Commander and Misato with a golden disc hovering over his brow.

Outside the Sigma Unit, Section 2 was confronted by its glaring weakness: Lack of manpower. Fortunately, that was mitigated by UN mandated security contracts and other loopholes. What Section 2 lacked in on-site resources could be made up for in JSSDF support packages. Ikari preferred to run NERV and Tokyo-3 as an autonomous entity, but the reality was far from it.

Clearance was requested, granted, and the Geofront opened to the JSSDF. Medics, recovery craft, earth movers and more. Men and women piled into the Geofront, and descended upon Sigma Unit.

Ritsuko sucked on her teeth, pouring over the map once more. "We're not trapped in here, not really. The problem is that we can't get the injured out fast enough. Smoke inhalation and their injuries will get them and us before we really escape."

One of the technicians whispered, "So what do we do?"

"Simple." Misato pointed at the orange Evangelion, still bracing against one wall.

"Rei walks right on out."

Being the prototype, most of the features demonstrated on that model were in turn propagated to all subsequent Evangelion designs. This included a full radio-magnetic sensor suite and electronic warfare package. This, among other things, included a highly specialized form of ground penetrating radar.

Rei was able to 'see' through the collapsed building, which to her Evangelion was positively tiny and as sturdy as paper. Especially considering she was still on umbilical power. The issue was precision. It took time and effort to clear everyone out of the one direction she had to go in, so she was patient, utterly still and focused on the task at hand.

Kernel C-6 was fairly sparse on detail, but it was carefully constructed to be as broadly applicable as possible. Secure a temporary safe zone, then secure passage to the nearest allied recovery point. Phrased so openly, the human brain would spiral out into creativity to accomplish those objectives, especially one properly trained to in turn break large problems into smaller problems.

Rei was alarmingly good at that.

Below her in the test chamber, there were no people to get in the way. The wall braced against the Evangelion's shoulder was easily negated as an obstacle. Massive hands sunk into the panels and concrete, crushing steel and more into powder and mangled chunks of metal. Handfuls at a time, the wall was torn down to dust and rubble, and spread around the Evangelion's feet.

Ahead of her was the collapsed ruin of a multi story, subterranean research base.

She started digging.

The Evangelion-deficient survivors and injured worked with what they had. They were fortunate however, to have Shinji along. He was proving his strength and stamina many times over. That which he could not lift, his strikes destroyed as handily as Rei did.

Ahead and to their left, Rei kept digging, and above they could begin to see tiny gaps in the roof of the complex, which in turn let in the light of the Geofront. Shinji himself still lit the way, while men and women carried their wounded in makeshift stretchers and on their backs and in arm. The group came up to another obstruction, a tangle of steel and cracked concrete. It was the largest obstacle they'd seen yet, and one everyone knew Shinji could not lift.

Shinji walked up to the wreckage and laid one hand on it. He slapped it once, and the metal ponged obligingly. He hit it two more times, drawing forth more echoing peals of metal. He nodded to himself and stepped back.

Dropping into a stance, he exhaled. Streamers of light and motes of solar fire curled around his arms, and his brow glowed brighter.

Rearing back, he sucked in a breath. Any strike was more than just his fist hitting the target. He had to strike through the target... It was not just his fist, but everything behind that fist. His hips pivoted, and from his toes through his thighs, into his spine and back and out that one hand, he pushed his open palm into the pile of rubble.

Aoba helped the Sub-Commander along, the former let his jaw drop open. "Holy Shit."

Rei broke through at almost the same time as the Geofront rescue teams. Almost immediately, ramps and metal plates were laid down as trucks and dozers shoved more debris out of the way. The NERV employees cheered as fiber optic sunlight joined with the beacon surrounding the Third Child.

Hundreds of people piled into the opening, while Rei and Unit-0 marched off for recovery and disembarkation. Once the initial dust settled, doctors and paramedics and everyone possibly trained on First Aid were thrown into the rush to save life and limb.

Shinji found himself shoved into the nearest corner with everyone else classified as 'Not in Danger', and left to his own devices. He stared at his bloody hands, and felt something stir in his gut.

He heard paramedics shout out to each other for supplies, assistance. Their cool professionalism shout through with the very real panic that they couldn't save everyone.

They're wrong.

Some were hissing at each other while desperately executing chest compressions. They couldn't get her breathing. It wasn't working, they hadn't got to her in time.

We can do this. I can do this.

He clenched his fists and felt his palms sting. Was this ego, he felt? He was so absolutely sure he was right. He could find out what was wrong. He would just know. And he knew how to fix it. He could make things better.

He was on his feet and moving. He shoved his way past the two paramedics. "H-Hey kid! G-What the hell are you doing!"

Shinji didn't bother answering, he shoved them again, hard enough to send them both sprawling. He raised his arms and put one hand on the woman's sternum and closed his eyes.

He opened them and turned to the two men. "Her lungs have collapsed. She has thirty seconds before permanent brain damage."

The paramedics blinked and scrambled to their feet. "Wha-No way, how would you even know?"

Shinji's voice dropped an octave, and he spoke with certainty that echoed in their bones. "Because I do."

They jumped to and saved the woman's life in less than ten seconds. Neither man thought to question the faintly glowing disc on the boy's head.

He found Ritsuko with a bloody gash in her arm and suffering from exhaustion. He couldn't do much about the latter, but the former was well within his skills. The older woman thought otherwise.

"W-What are you doing Shinji!"

He shushed her and focused back on her arm, a needle and thread held in his fingers. "Quiet. And Hold still."

She squirmed and tried to pull her arm away. "Where the hell do you learn how to stitch wounds?"

He puffed up his cheeks and blew a bit of sweat-stuck hair away from his brow. Setting his jaw, he answered. "I read it in a book, now hold still!"

That, understandably, made her want to do anything but hold still. Shinji however was much stronger than he looked. He glowed in full force, his body surrounded by a growing column of solar fire and mandala. His fingers blurred with the skill of a master surgeon, and the scientist barely felt the sting of the needle.

Another life saved, and still dozens more to go. Men and women were shouting now, for more bandages, medicine, anything. Shirts were being cut up, and water boiled to sterilize equipment.

Shinji looked at his hands and the half-used roll of bandages he held. A nurse grabbed the length of sterile fabric before he could blink, and he was gone. The chaos and panic reminded him more of historical footage from the Second Impact. Tent cities sprang up around disaster zones, becoming havens of relief and treatment. And just like in those films, the supplies ran out well before the injured.

That surge of ego welled up again, and challenged the world. Fine. Be that way.

He raised his bloody, bandaged hands and set his stance, before walking into the storm. "I'll heal you all with my bare hands, if I have to."

A burn victim thrashed against the gurney while nurses scrabbled to inject a sedative and slather salve over the man's blackened limbs. Shinji swept in and held the man down. "Sorry!"

With one arm braced across his chest, and all too aware of how much agony that must've caused, the boy hurried. His other hand folded rapidly into mudra, one symbol after another, while a steady, warm glow grew in his palms. The mantle of light he wore earlier had faded, and now it came back in force. He mumbled under his breath, reciting acupuncture points alongside textbook anatomy. His motion left outlines of those hand symbols in the air, before he brought his opened palm down on the man's chest.

"Heart." The boy intoned, before lifting his hand. He brought it down once more, onto the man's brow. "Crown."

He stood over the burned man, himself surrounded by a growing column of solar fire and expanding mandala. Ghostly arms spun lazily around, hands shifting into symbols and mudra like his own flesh and blood limb. His hand moved from point to point on the man's body, humming another name or structure.

The strange treatment lasted several hours, and with each touch, the man's burns changed. Not healed so much as treated. Wounds were cleaned without water or cloth touching them. Blisters collapsed into nothing before they could fully form, and skin too damaged to save instead broke free and sloughed off.

A task that would've taken an entire surgical team, quality tools and a sterile environment was done by one teenager, with his bare hands in the ruins of a collapsed building.

Shinji stepped back and exhaled, before pressing both hands into the man's abdomen. "Solar Plexus."

Through it all, the man had continued to thrash, despite the sedatives and Shinji's own attention. He still fought at that base level to survive. But those veteran surgeons and medics could tell. The man was stable, no longer going into shock. The man would be scarred forever. But he would heal and live.

The boy looked at his work and nodded. "His skin should grow back beneath it. But you should bandage it just to be safe. I'll come back to check on him later."

Shinji bowed and moved on, leaving people to stare at the growing collection of glowing gold mandala and six extra arms radiating from it.

Compound fracture to the right arm, cracked collarbone on the same side, bruising, contusions, minor flesh wounds. Mild smoke inhalation. Moderate risk of infection.

He was already halfway finished when he realized who he was working on.

Light bounced off of the Commander's glasses, and the strange glass badge that most NERV staff wore.

Zero casualties.

Many people would call that a miracle.

Today, people were calling that Ikari Shinji.

The cavernous space turned triage theater was filled with people. NERV employees, surface-side paramedics, citizens, scientists, soldiers. The chamber was lit not from harsh operating lights and spot lamps, but the warm glow of the sun at high noon. In the center of it all was Shinji, surrounded by a tower of golden light and wreathed in an impossibly complex mandala.

Men and women pressed forward to shake his hands, and he thanked them, blushing furiously and ducking into his shoulders. Some moved into hug him, or kiss him, but he refused as politely as he could. For as many people he thanked, others he gently pulled off to one side. "You're hurt worse than you think. Lie down and let's get you some help."

Misato smiled and let the light warm her face. "Won't you believe in him?"

Ritsuko turned, trying hard not to rub her bandaged arm. "What?"

Misato's mouth curled into corners much like the Cheshire Cat. "That... Even if there is no God or Buddha... There is Shinji-kun."

The blonde woman's reply was agonized. "...Tell me you didn't just quote a pulpy tokusatsu comic."

Misato chose not to dignify that accusation with a response.

Finally, Shinji came to the Sub-Commander of NERV. The old man was winded, and had one arm wrapped around his middle, but he offered his other. "Well done, Ikari-kun."

The teenager helped the old man to his feet, smiling. Then the Third Child frowned deeply. "You're having a heart attack."

The Sub-Commander blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

Shinji pulled the man to his feet. "Your chest is hurting because you're having a heart attack."

The older man looked very well at ease, facing a life-threatening event like that. Only a slightly hurried pace his speech said otherwise. "Oh dear. Well. We should do something about that, shouldn't we?"

Shinji nodded and brought his hands together, folding his fingers again into mudra and symbols as fast as the eye could see. The mandala behind him spun faster, expanding out into a towering array of discs and arms. He pressed the heel of one hand into the old man's forehead, while the other landed on his heart.

"You're not having a heart attack now."