It was so cold.
The scent of blood was strong, and her lungs felt heavy. It was the oxygen, she knew. The oxygen and nitrogen content of the LCL was leeching away, and there was no way to circulate it, to replenish it. The liquid was becoming thicker, its clarity shifting from sickly yellow to bloody orange. When she had still had strength, Asuka made an attempt at opening the Plug, babbling and shrieking. She knew, consciously, that whatever was beyond the hatch was death. Vacuum, empty, a possibly infinite void. That would have been better than this; suffocation or freezing. Those were slow deaths. Death terrified her, but not as badly as the slow death.
She hugged herself, trembling and whimpering in the pod. She had been alone, now, for…a long time. She didn't know how long. It felt too long, and she wondered if perhaps she had died already. Perhaps this was the in-between where the soul lingered before passing on. Or…perhaps this was Hell. She didn't think she had ever done anything in life to justify going to Heaven or Hell, didn't even believe in either of those as concepts. She was believing it now. Hell had become concrete.
Asuka began to cry again. It was loneliness that frightened her more than the death. The loneliness forced her to behold her inadequacies, her failures. Her life of failure. It forced her to be with the one person she hated more than anyone else on the face of the planet. Why was it, then, that she didn't want to die? Why did she continue to cling to life?
Because she was a coward. She was too afraid to die.
You continue to cling to the Self you have created even when it brings you pain.
"I…please…don't go away again," she chattered. It was so cold….
The Self that you make is not the true Self that you are. Would it be so painful to let down the barriers to this shadow? Asuka was sitting in a dark place, in the center of a vast field of ice. She was naked, and her knees were drawn up to her chin. She wrapped her arms around her legs and shivered violently. It felt like the fluid in her eyes had frozen. The saliva in her mouth had frozen. All was ice. She felt a presence next to her, and turned her head slowly. A little girl with barrettes in her red hair stared at her with a severe expression.
"You…make no…s…s…sense," she whispered. "What…barriers?"
Is this the way of humans? The child spoke in a voice that was young, but too old for her. Remember the lesson from before: there are many Selves for the body. You, you are the Self that is. Then there is the Self in the mind of Kaji. Then there is the Self in the mind of Misato. The Self in the mind of Rei. In the mind of Samson. In the mind of Shinji.
"That's…just…weird…" she stammered. "I'm…the…only me. There is no other me except me!" She gripped her legs tighter, willing warmth where there was none. "There…is…"
You have seen how you create your image across the lives of those you encounter. The Asuka Langley Soryu that is known by others is not the Asuka Langley Soryu who sits here. Asuka buried her face into her knees. She wanted the voice to stop, but she didn't want it to go away. She was so tired, and so afraid. You push them away from you, and yet you are afraid of them leaving. Is this the human condition, or is this simply the condition that you have existed in?
"Why do you want to know so badly?" Asuka croaked.
I have told you: I am curious. Is it not the condition of life to understand its surroundings? To delve into what is unknown? You are a strange factor, humanity.
"If…you're so curious…why attack us? Why try to destroy us?"
Because it is our purpose, the girl replied, confused. It is what drives our existence. Can we not be curious of that which we must destroy? Are you not curious of that which is us? Asuka found herself unwilling to answer that question. She turned away from the girl, feeling a strange and welcome warmth. Images flashed before her, images of the apartment. Images of school. Images of the GeoFront, and the headquarters, of the people she had encountered in her life. Her time here.
The briefness of your lives creates ripples across time, from one point of existence to the next. You desire the recognition that you have been here, that you have existed. That you were you. What is it you desire from them? What truth do you want them to tell you?
"I see you, Asuka," a voice said. "I see you, Asuka."
"Topnotch, Asuka! You're the best Pilot we've ever had!" Misato cheered, pumping her arms. "No one's better! No one will be!" Asuka squinted. That was nice to hear, but it wasn't what she wanted to hear. Was it? Why did the words feel so hollow?
"You have proven yourself superior, Second Child," Rei pleaded, on her knees and her hands up, shielding her face. "I am so weak in comparison to you! How foolish it was to think a doll could contend with a superior Pilot!" That just sounded stupid. It looked stupid. It made her feel better though; how shallow. How shallow she was. She was making a feast of bread crumbs.
"You're the most popular girl at school, Asuka!" Hikari sang, stars in her eyes. Her hands clasped tightly in front of her, and she was practically spinning with joy and excitement. "I wish I could be like you! You're so talented, and smart, and pretty! You're the best, really!"
"But I'm not the best!" Asuka shrieked. "You would have said it! No one says it! No one sees me! No one hears me! I haven't won a battle at all! Not without Shinji there! He's always there! It should have been my glory! My victory!" She held her hands in front of her, pleading with the phantoms that swirled around her. "I don't want your praise! I want you to tell me I matter!" The admission surprised her, but she could not deny the truth of it. She could praise herself. Asuka did praise herself, and in hindsight, that was enough. Others didn't praise her, but that wasn't so bad, was it? It wasn't what hurt. It was the loneliness. It gnawed at her.
Light took her again, and she smelled familiar smells. The expensive cologne that Kaji would wear on certain days. The smell of cooking when Shinji was home, the odd smell of his sheets when she lay on his futon. It was a smell that made her think of a strange variety of things. Of a dog her friend had owned, that she loved very much. Of fields of grass under hot sunlight. Of comfort. Of safety. Of being alive.
Is that the fundamental crux of existence? For humans to entwine, to combine and create? To live lives as two separate entities, coalesce into one. How curious. How fascinating. The faces of these…of Kaji. Of Samson. Of Shinji. These…yes…these…is this what you desire when you wish to be seen? To know you exist?
Light consumed her, and from the light, Kaji appeared. He leaned forward, his face relaxed, the grin inviting. He seemed composed from the light, and she had the sense he was unclothed. She could see his shoulders, his chest. They were toned, masculine. His arms stretched out to embrace her. "Asuka, do you want to become one with me? To be of one mind and body? I'm the man you desire above all else. You just need to try harder if you want me to see you." She felt her heart flutter at the thought, but she couldn't decide if it was nervousness or fear that gripped her so. The sensation was so fleeting, she couldn't grab it.
So mild, and yet so strong. Your thoughts are confused on the matter. Enlightening. Fascinating.
He faded away, Samson loomed in front of her, unwelcome and invasive. She tried to recoil from the image, but he leered towards her, consuming her sight. His smile seemed benign, but it carried a note of disease beneath it. Muscles moved under his skin like a bag filled with adders. "German, do you want to become one with me? To be of one mind and body? I'll give you oblivion. I'll eat your soul. I'll devour you until there's not a scrap of flesh left. It'll be fun." She felt no joy at the image, only anger, resentment, hatred. Defiance of him.
This one exists in your mind, yet you see him as an opponent. Something to destroy. Should I have left him in darker places? Perhaps not. It is still enlightening: human will destroy human. Human attacks that which is the other. This boy…he is the Other, yes? I…see…and this?
And then there was Shinji. He was so skinny, so fragile looking. His face was honest, though. Pretty. She didn't like pretty boys. She wanted a man who looked like a man. She wanted Kaji. And yet, she felt warmth. She felt something that she knew frightened her, but she dared not quash it. "Asuka, do you want to become one with me? To be of one mind and body? I do the best I can. I would do anything for you. I would die for you." She tried to reach for him, but she had no hands. She screamed in the silence, You don't need to die for me! You just need to pull me out! Can't you pull me out? Can't you even hear me? Notably, the voice made no observation. Asuka wondered what that meant.
Kaji's voice echoed. "Do you want to become one with me?"
Samson droned, "I'll give you oblivion."
And then Shinji's voice sang, "We could be of one mind and body and soul." He vanished into the light, his voice lingering in the space in her mind. Did she hate Shinji? She thought back to her stolen glory, to his existence looming over her. Did it consume her…as much as her loathing of Samson? She hated Samson, with all of her soul. It was odd, she thought, that she should hate him. She thought back to her first impressions of him, how he seemed to fit her ideal of a man so perfectly, and yet…When presented with it, set out in stone for her, she despised it. Loathed it. The more Samson existed, the more she felt he shouldn't exist. It was an offense against rightness.
A strange thought crept into her mind: Was her hatred of Samson what prevented her from despising Shinji as much? She felt guilty in that moment. Did Shinji deserve to be despised? Yes, he was an idiot. Yes, he was weak and girlish and generally unable to navigate through life with instructions. He was passive. He was flawed. He was imperfect. He was not Kaji.
Did that mean he should be despised? She squirmed down into her soul, not wanting to admit being wrong, but wondering if she was wrong. He was all of those things, and still he was a better Pilot than her. It galled her, insulted her. It made her doubt her own ability; if someone like him outperformed her, what did that say of Asuka? Was she worse than him? She didn't want to be. She couldn't be.
She didn't know. She was confused, uncertain. Asuka tried to fit Shinji into a place in her mind that made sense, and every time she tried to, the place changed. The pieces readjusted. She couldn't fit him, and it angered her. What's more, it frightened her. It then occurred to her that she didn't care, and that truly surprised her.
The more she thought on it, the more she wanted out. Asuka realized that she didn't care if Shinji saved her again. Her pride had vanished during the isolation in the Plug. She didn't care. She just didn't want to die. Asuka wanted out. She wanted out, and she didn't care how she got out.
Asuka was in the Plug once more. The LCL was stagnant, and she felt it like syrup in her sinuses. She was dying. There was no escaping it. It was too cold to move, too cold to think. She thought of Shinji in that moment, and didn't know why. She wanted feel anger at him. Asuka couldn't; she only felt regret. Why would she feel regret? What did she have to regret?
"Mama," she whimpered, at very limit of her strength. The last strand of hope she had. "I…don't want…to…Mama…."
As light engulfed her, she felt warm arms embracing her. A voice called from across a vast chasm. I have you, love. I always have. Rest a bit, and I'll take care of it. I'll make it all better….
"What happened!?"
Ritsuko made a point of not looking at Misato, instead studying the sphere that floated over Tokyo-3. "We have a plan," she said instead, "that might allow us to recover Unit-02. At the very least, it should provide us a good probability of destroying the Angel."
"Don't change the subject!" Misato screamed, staring at Ritsuko's back. It just so happened that gave her an excellent view of the recovery of Unit-01, kneeling in the distance. It was a gory statue, pieces of Angel flesh still twisted into its jaws. She trembled with rage and fear. Yes, she wanted to discuss Asuka's situation, but the EVA's behavior was more pertinent. "I thought they couldn't move without a Pilot. That's the third time that one has, and more to the point, it might have become an Angel in the process! Do we really have control of these things?"
"I don't know," Ritsuko murmured.
"What!?"
"I don't know, I don't know!" the scientist screamed, turning back to Misato. "I don't know, all right?"
Misato crossed her arms, and narrowed her eyes. "You're lying."
"How dare you suggest—?"
"It's a fact, and you are lying to me. I don't appreciate that, and I will find out what it is you're keeping from me. I'd hoped our friendship would have encouraged you to be truthful, but I guess not." Ritsuko glanced away. She looked stung by that sentence. Misato hoped that it would have an influence, perhaps elicit more honesty from the woman, but she doubted it. "What's the plan for the remaining Angel?"
"We are petitioning the JASDF for the remainder of the country's N2 explosives stockpile."
"What?"
"We'll drop them all into the Sea of Dirac and detonate them simultaneously, which should…"
"And Asuka?"
"Eva Unit-02 should survive the—"
"And Asuka?"
"I hate to be the one to remind you, but in the grand scheme of things, the Pilots are expendable." The words had just left her lips when Misato stepped forward and slapped the scientist. It was not a gentle blow; Misato put all her weight and strength into it. Ritsuko's glasses went skittering across the concrete, and the woman spun, falling to her knees, gasping. She glanced up at Misato, anger and fear warring on her face. Her left eye was already beginning to swell shut from the blow, and a trickle of blood from a cut on her lip stained her chin.
"You…are…have you lost your mind, Major!?" Ritsuko hissed, standing on shaky legs. "Have you any concept of what you just did? I am…overriding your authority. This operation is now in my hands." She turned to leave, when a chorus of agony cut through the air.
It was in a language known to no man, and Misato turned to stare at the sphere. The black and white patterns had begun to fluctuate in patterns more vivid and more strained than it had shown before. She squinted, trying to discern what had happened, when it solidified into a single solid, black sphere. The sphere began to shudder, to tremble, when a split formed in the center. A cascade of red that looked very much like blood, poured from the growing seam. More cracks formed, like an egg about to birth a new monstrosity. And then, a single red arm shunted through the first seam.
Misato tore her eyes from the awful image to stare at Ritsuko. The woman was stumbling backwards, mouth open and aghast. "Do you feel like being honest yet, Ritz?" Misato hissed. The woman made no reply, instead thrusting her hand into her mouth and biting down on the knuckle. Misato turned back, to watch as Unit-02 ripped itself free from the dying Angel to fall to the blank expanse below, the flat ground that had once been part of Tokyo-3. It squirmed in the gore for a bit before curling into a fetal position and going still. The Angel screamed one last time, before bursting apart in a cloud of fine, red mist. The cloud dropped, scattering across the city below and covering it in crimson.
Swallowing, Misato un-clipped a radio from her pocket. "This is Maj. Katsuragi," she snapped. "What is the status on the recovery of the Third Child?"
"The Plug has been found, the Third Child is unconscious and in serious condition. We are stabilizing him now," the reply came.
"I need another recovery team deployed immediately. Unit-02 has reappeared in Tokyo-3. I want the Pilot extracted ASAP!"
"Roger, ma'am!" Misato snapped the radio back onto her belt, and glared at Ritsuko. She had gripped a railing for support, and was breathing heavily.
"Are they on our side, Ritz?" Misato asked. "What are these things? Really?" Her friend glanced at her, shook her head, and retreated, stumbling away from the railing. Misato started to follow, but caught herself. She glanced back at the reborn Unit-02, and a wash of copper and iron scent flooded her nostrils. The scent of blood was strong. Misato grimaced. It was everywhere. There was no escape from it.