It's quite interesting, really, how events end up playing out.
You've probably heard of the butterfly effect before, but I'll explain in case you haven't. It's a theory which states that small choices made in the present will create greater, sometimes gigantic, changes in the future. A butterfly flapping its wings in Europe could cause a tornado to form in America because of how the bug affected the air currents over the Atlantic, for example, or, in a more absurd case, how a man purchasing a beverage at the office vending machine at lunchtime causes the machine to fall over and crush the worker called to do maintenance on it because of how the four quarter-dollars he used affected the overall weight distribution of the machine.
To sum it all up; change begets change. That is the theory of casualty. It is one of the more popular philosophies people prescribe to because of how they wish to believe that they have the free will and power to affect their own lives, and I can't really fault them for believing that. In fact, I myself take stock in that particular concept, but that's neither here nor there since what really matters is the other side of the coin; determinism, and what happens when you combine the two belief systems in what is probably the worst way possible.
The belief that all is random and affected by the choices of man versus the belief that all was preordained by the will of a higher power; what happens when you throw a metaphorical stone into a pool of still water by dropping a young man that believed in freedom into a setting that was truly, indisputably, determined from the start?
One very large butterfly effect.
You might think I'm crazy, but there's nothing else for me to do but tell the truth.
I don't know why this all started. Maybe it was a dream, a DMT-fueled end-of-life hallucination after I tripped down the stairs and broke my neck, or maybe God was feeling truly cruel the day he decided to rip me from all I knew and throw me cold, naked and afraid into a brave new world. Trying to even decipher what happened that day is headache inducing and wouldn't do much for my present situation anyway, and the only reason I'm even writing this down is so someone can find this if things… go south.
What I do know, however, is how this series of unfortunate events started.
Prepare yourself, you who was lucky enough to find this log, for a tale of gut-wrenching tragedy, heart-warming moments, bloody battles and the cast of broken people standing at the center of it all.
Hmm. Perhaps I'm laying it on a bit too thick, though I wouldn't be doing my heavenly scribe very well if I described what was possibly one of the most important periods of human history with bland and boring words. Oh, well. Why am I yammering on about whys and why nots when I should really just get around to telling you the story?
It was a dark and stormy night when I had suddenly gained the unfortunate privilege of having a once in a lifetime laser light show beamed directly into my frontal lobe.
"Oh, God, please make it stop!"
What is the worst physical pain you've ever felt in your life? Giving birth, getting shot, getting stabbed or, for the more unlucky people that exist, getting struck by lighting are probably the most atrocious events a person can familiarize themselves with because of the sheer amount torture their body goes through. Those who are well versed in these circumstances almost always associate their experiences with sensations of burning, of having a burning pressure afflict the flesh or a hot, serrated knife scrape away at their guts.
However, none of these mere aches compare to the agony that caressed my mortal coil amid my awakening.
It felt as if someone had split my skull open from front to back with a razor-sharp axe, exposing the gooey and malleable prize awaiting inside before pouring an entire universe's wealth of information directly into my sponge of a mind as a soundtrack of garbled static that scraped across my ears complimented the smorgasbord of monochrome images that flickered across my vision. They were all-encompassing simulacres that stared deep into my eyes one minute and giants that loomed and stretched far into the sky the next before finally shrinking to the size of insects that could easily be crushed between my thumb and forefinger. All of their voices, feminine and masculine and roaring with emotion and one and the same, rang out around me like some demented tribal war cry, growing higher and greater before-
Stopping.
I could feel my eyes shoot open, breaking a corpulent seal that had somehow settled across my eyes and complimenting the dazed rictus my facial muscles willed themselves into, where I was suddenly and unfairly greeted with the sight of orange. It stretched on for far as the eye could see, cradling my body in it's warm, copper-tasting grasp and infesting every pore and crevice present on my skin, slaloming viscously down my throat and under my eyes and into my nose.
One can't really blame me for what I did next. After all, waking up in a totally unfamiliar place with a complete lack of external stimuli after the complete mindscrew that preceded it doesn't do particular wonders for a person's fight or flight response. In fact, it activates and aggravates said reaction in such a manner that a person will almost always choose to struggle.
So you can probably guess the event that occurred soon after.
I flailed outwards in all directions, my limbs and clawed fingers rending the gelatinous substance as I screamed to a God that didn't answer. The mantra of madness that pounded away at the sides of my skull complimented the garbled howling that reverberated through the pulpy, orange extract and the quiet tap-tapping associated with glass fracturing that lurked impishly at the edge of my senses before-
CRACK
God answered, or rather… I did.
With the dreadful cacophony of a tumultuous tidal wave, the parapets that imprisoned me exploded outwards in a deluge of glittering, reflective shards and apricot-colored liquid that doused all surrounding it with the sickly-sweet, raw fluid and birthed me from it's balmy grasp with the force of a raging rapid and into the atmosphere of a place that was as cold as the smooth tile that accosted my face right after. My sense of self jerked awake once more when my face slammed into the hard floor, the cartilage inside my nose cracking with a stomach turning crunch and allowing the candied, cloying taste of blood to infect my mouth as I lay in a daze for what felt like centuries while my mind spun around in tired circles around one singular question.
What… the fuck just happened?
The low murmurs and whispers of unknown machinery were the only responses that deigned to answer my query, and orange-tinted, sinister geometries began to fill my grainy vision as my eyes cracked open like a pair of rusty shutters. With shaking muscles, I clawed and gripped at the rank, oily ground with my various digits before finally getting enough of a grasp on my own appendages to stand up on my own two legs for just a moment before a wave of intense nausea rippled through my body, causing me to double over once more and vomit up the contents of my stomach. What felt like a gallon of the orange goo spilled out over my teeth and onto the floor, scorching my throat with the acidic taste of bile and splattering across the polished white tiles before sloughing downwards into a drain that led to god knows where.
A drain…? The inkling of common sense that still remained inside of my brain at that moment whispered to me that this place must be a hospital of some kind… but I took that advice with a grain of salt, considering that no institution I ever knew kept their wards in jars of marmalade. It was more likely that this place was a black site run by intimidating men in dark sunglasses and suits from mysterious three-letter* agencies that wished to torture every last bit of information of information out of me for whatever arbitrary reason… or…
A sinister idea crossed my mind, one that was both quite horrifying but still possible and growing in probability by the minute because of the sheer senselessness of the circumstances that had just occurred. It frightened the living daylights out of me, and I could feel my hand begin to drift around to the back of my neck and feel around for… something. Anything. Perhaps some sort of socket that bound the physical coil to a simulation via the brain stem and a thick rubber cable, or a quartet of small ports which allowed cords and needles to be inserted.
Instead, my palm was met by warm, taut flesh and the goosebumps that dotted the back of my neck. A wave of relief and confusion flowed through me at the realization of what I thought was my reality being kept intact, and I allowed myself to fall backwards onto my ass and slump against the remains of the glass tube that held me moments prior, the sopping, greasy mop adorning my head falling over my eyes once more as I heaved an exhausted sigh out of my lungs. What remained of that disgusting, noxious ooze slowly trickled out of the cylinder and down my back, offering the impression of a warm, comforting shower that threatened to suck me into the inky depths of night once more like quicksand. There was a fair chunk of me that wanted to relent, to give in and go back to sleep, but this was no time to be resting… there was a whole litany of information to be found out.
Really, I should be thankful that the part of me that wanted to stay awake had enough willpower to win the battle in my mind. It awarded me just enough situational awareness to recognize what was wrong with this entire picture the moment my eyes opened once more. As I slouched forward and pushed myself upwards from the floor while pushing my slick mane of hair back, a few stray locks fell in front of my face and my eyes immediately zeroed in on a detail so blatantly erroneous that I thought it was a hallucination for a moment, but even in the dim orange light of the chamber it was obviously not an illusion.
Why was my hair white?
An abrupt flash of bright light suddenly rendered me sightless, drawing my attention away from that particular feature as I flung my forearm to shield my eyes from whatever had vexed me while letting out a hiss of pain. A series of plinking noises bounced off of the walls of the cavernous chamber as what were presumably fluorescent lights flickered to life, soon followed by the airy, gliding sound that comes with a well-oiled pocket door opening, and my focus whipped towards the origin of the intrusion not a moment after I let my arm fall away from my face.
Standing in the center of the doorway at the other end of the room was a scruffy, blonde young man in a lab coat who couldn't have looked more ecstatic to see me even if he tried. His blue-grey eyes quickly and excitedly darted back and forth between my prone form and the dripping remains of the glass tube as he unclipped a small transceiver from his belt before raising it to his face and speaking to whoever was on the other end in a garbled, disjointed language. I didn't understand most of it, either as a result of my own grogginess or how quiet the doctor was speaking, but one word stuck out from the string of unknown terms he was uttering.
"Subject."
I stared at him in wide eyed shock as I tried to figure out just what the man meant. I was… a subject? A lab rat used to test experimental, devious and unthinkable techniques on and a piece of meat to be thrown away once used. A caustic, boiling sensation arose in my stomach along with my body as I stood up, examining my flesh that shook with barely contained indignation and ire. Unmarked, perfectly-pale alabaster skin pulled tight over a lean, fibrous frame greeted me as opposed to the golden, scarred hide and muscular body that I knew and loved in conjunction with a crown of bone-white hair atop my head.
Obviously, when a person under significant mental stress is faced with something that completely and utterly shatters their self-image in the moment, they don't react well.
"What the fuck did you do to me?!" I launched off of my back foot and lunged towards that vile, blasphemous Lilin while swinging a right-hook towards his jaw as the emotion filling his eyes switched from exuberance to alert shock. He ducks out of the way in the nick of time, and my fist hits the wall and promptly explodes into a shower of viscera. Crimson blood and muscle splattered across the wall as I whipped my hand away and stare it with agitation, as if it was a mere mosquito bite instead of the upper half of my right hand being gone, for half of a second before the bothersome jabbering of the scientist begins to scrape across my ears again as he attempts to escape from me.
The mania returned once more, thrumming beneath my skin with the power of one-thousand suns, and I turned on my heel before taking off after the blonde beast out into a lukewarm, dark hallway made up of dark, navy-blue steel and vents that hissed misty clouds of steam into the air, my feet slapping wetly against the ground as I gave chase. I could still hear that man's idiotic squawking from just beyond my vision, and it pissed the hell out of me! There was to be no escaping me, profane Lilin! I was-
I rounded a corner, and was promptly met with a baton to the jaw. It smacked me in the teeth with an earth-shattering crack, and sparkling white shapes danced across my vision as I fell over and cracked my skull against the ground, a few teeth flying out of my mouth as I went . The gritty, restless buzzing of voices filled my ears and was soon followed by the sound of heavy boots falling against the floor, and I opened my eyes and was met by the sight of three sets of neon-blue goggles glaring back at me. Two of the men they were attached to bounded forward and clenched my arms in a vice grip to stop me from breaking free as the third figure retrieved a syringe and a bottle of clear liquid from a pouch on their belt before drawing fluid from it.
Upon seeing that these degenerates were going to sedate me and probably do more horrendous experiments to me, I let out a shrill cry and bit down into one the soldier's arms, missing teeth be damned. My teeth sunk down into his forearm, letting my tongue feel the tangy taste of blood once more as he let out an infuriated grunt of pain before pulling away and letting an uppercut knock even more teeth out of my jaw while a painful stinging sensation shot through my arm. My senses flickered and blurred once, twice, thrice before my livid thrashing finally came to a halt, my body falling to the floor as my eyes locked on one last element of this entire shitshow before I was sucked into darkness.
Emblazoned on one of the guards armbands was the crimson leaf of Neon Genesis Evangelion's Special Organization NERV.
CONSECRATED
HARBINGER
EVANGELION
EPISODE 1: THE CREATION OF MAN
"Kihl?"
I looked up from the weathered and yellowed pages of my thick tome, turning my gaze towards my younger brother, who sat parallel to me across the small, metal garden table positioned perpendicular to the southern wall of our family's rustic, antique manor. The rays of the evening October sun beat down on us, providing a strange, orange glow to the air and a wonderful warmth that fought against the chill of autumn and warped the depressed, plum-shaded circles under his eyes and disgruntled grimace etched into Klaus's face into a mere frown and contemplative gaze. He'd been like that for days now, pessimistically mulling over the future whenever our debates on esoteric subjects or Father's visits from the front couldn't occupy his thoughts… not that I didn't understand his concerns, of course, but it was better to spend what little time I had left living fruitfully instead of losing myself to the war before I had even seen it.
"Yes?" I asked neutrally and without tone, which caused Klaus to shift in his seat uncomfortably while staying quiet, as if waiting for my curiosity to spring and motivate me to ask him what was in error, thus giving my brother grounds to launch into one of his bleak, tangential rambles. For some peculiar reason, Klaus had been remarkably easy to read lately… he'd always wore his heart on his sleeve, but this was different. I knew what was troubling him, of course, it was just that there were multiple reasons and dissecting which one was currently afflicting Klaus with a lack of sleep was quite hard. The only way to know was to either take the bait… or to wait for him to admit it himself.
A moment of tense, thick silence that was only broken by the shrill call of a loon radiated between the two of us as a cool breeze pushed at the few stray locks of fluffy, blonde hair hanging over Klaus's face. It felt as if a man could have sliced the atmosphere in half with a butter knife until my younger brother suddenly spoke up while steepling his hands in front of his face, obscuring his expression from view.
"Are… you satisfied with your life?" I felt my eyebrows raise and arch in bewilderment at Klaus's query before quietly closing my book and setting it down on the metal veneer of the table with a soft thump. My brother didn't continue his unprecedented question, instead choosing to level an expectant gaze at me as he waited for my answer.
"What sort of question is that? Of course I'm satisfied." I responded after a moment of irritated contemplation, causing Klaus to give me his own confused expression in turn. It seemed as if neither of us expected the conversation to even occur, which wasn't a far-fetched conclusion considering that a minute before I thought of my sibling as a pessimistic worry-wart who gets trapped in his own head far too often and I… am perhaps a bit too obtuse at moments.
"You didn't answer my question, Kihl. You only gave me the customary response… and here I thought you were the honest one in our family." His befuddled expression morphed into a wry and vulpine smirk, causing my eyes to narrow into displeased slits.
"What has made you so frustrated, Klaus? To be this… sardonic isn't like you." I murmured while propping my elbow on the table and resting my cheek against my fist while fixing my brother with a despondent glare, which didn't produce any sort of visible reaction at all. It merely made his strange, smug smile grow even wider, and I mentally let out a vexed sigh. Looks like there's no way to get a straight answer out of him without giving one of my own, even if it's one made of falsehoods and trickery.
"I suppose I am a tad… bored, but that is no excuse to think one's existence is superfluous." I admitted, much to Klaus's apparent chagrin since the corners of his lips quirked downwards in dissatisfaction soon after while tapping a lone index finger against his chin before speaking once more.
"Allow me to rephrase; do you value your life?" I could feel my face distort into a mask that's half confusion and half disgust at his words as that creepy grin continued to display on Klaus's face like a theater mask before finally coalescing my thoughts into a more… refined form.
"Have you gone quite mad? It appears that I might need to call Dr. Hertzog to check if you've lost your senses." If one was in the business of visualizing words, they could see how the venom positively dripped from my statement, but my threat didn't do much to Klaus besides make him tilt his gaze downwards, obscuring his eyes from view as quiet chuckles wracked his body. I had half the mind to reach across the table and wring him by the collar, but those thoughts quickly dissipated into mere background noise when my gaze met Klaus's once more.
His eyes were a far cry from the misty sapphire that I knew and respected, and it was as if I was staring into a pair of deep, endless pools of blood.
"Either way, it's in both of our interests if this delightful chat comes to an end."
I shot upwards like a spring loaded trap while letting out a shrill shriek that scraped across my ears and echoed through the room as if someone with particularly jagged fingernails was slowly dragging them across a chalkboard. Blurry white shapes met my vision with the grace of an oncoming freight train, flooding and coalescing into view along with the sound of my own ragged breathing that began to slow down by the second before finally reaching a low huffing. I clutched at my sternum while giving the unblemished, egg-colored blanket draped across my form a look that would have lit the fabric on fire had I suddenly gained psychic abilities, but the gears inside of my brain were too busy kicking up sparks about one fantastic possibility to care about that particular brand of nonsense.
The image of a crimson, maple leaf that was sliced in half down the middle was seared into the front of my mind like a cow brand, and I felt my hand shudder as I tried to contemplate and comprehend the facts that were sitting right in front of me. It was a possibility, a fleeting fantasy, that I had thought about before but only in a queer fit of fancy or when trawling through the infinite and often-times dull records of fan works hosted within cyberspace, but yet…
It was here. I was here. They were here.
No matter how strange this all seemed… There was nothing else I could do besides dedicate myself to this new environment, even if this was a fiction created by chemicals inside of the depths of my own lucid or shattered mind. A man once said that sanity is dedication to reality at all costs… So even if those around me were mere constructs and impressions, I could not let myself be reduced to a small, gibbering fool for fear of being jailed, physically and mentally, by the people existing around whatever physical matter counted as myself.
I let out a shuddering, relaxed sigh. Good to have at least put a lid on that for now. Ending this entire debate before it even began would save me quite a bit of time that was better put to… whatever I was here for instead of faffing about like a butterfly without wings.
But why was I here? For what purpose was I dragged here by… well, fate, for lack of a better term?
There were no answers to be found inside of what I assumed was my hospital room. Dull, buzzing fluorescent lights cast a hazy yellow glow across the bizarre, pure white area. Strangely enough, there wasn't anything more than a dresser and armchair that were no bigger than the bed I was unfortunately… handcuffed to. The steel chain attached to the handrail glinted menacingly in the amber light, and I stared at it while contemplating why someone would bind me in such a manner for a moment until the sound of a door creaking open drew my attention away.
Once more the blonde beast darkened the doorway with that dopey, ever-astonished expression carved into his face. Had he not been furiously jotting down notes on that clipboard of his the man would've appeared to be an ancient statue, all sinister angles cut from marble, save for the eyes that scurried back and forth between me and whatever sort of documentation was occupying his hands. The calm was palpable and uninterrupted by anything except for the scratching of his pencil against paper until the doctor mumbled something to himself.
"...Better than expected… appears to be-"
"It's rude to speak about someone as if they aren't right in front of you." The words slalomed out of my throat like the rasp of a snake, cutting him and the clawing scritch of his pencil off mid sentence and causing his eyes to widen in dumbfounded acknowledgement before he softly murmured to what seemed like mostly himself in utter disbelief.
"You understand us... Can't you?" I didn't respond, instead choosing to award him an appraising glance as I tilted my head down and studied him from beneath my eyebrows for a moment before replying somewhat acerbically.
"Why wouldn't I?" My acidic-tinted inquest does the opposite of its intended effect, because rather than wipe the smirk drawn onto the blonde's face away the expression grew larger, the corners of his lips turning up into an euphoric smile as his jaw hung agape. It was a look that I thought would be better suited on a chimpanzee, since there wasn't anything part of this situation that a person should've been happy about. Nevertheless, he continued to bear that disgusting rictus as he doodled upon his sheaf of papyrus until I spoke up once more.
"If it is not too much trouble, would you mind unshackling me? This position you've forced upon me is quite… uncomfortable." I jangle the handcuff in the air by raising my wrist while painting an unamused mask onto my face in what will most certainly be a vain attempt to gain my freedom, and as expected it secured no favourable response. Blondie unclasped the walkie-talkie from the side of his leather belt and asked for a pair of people named Wolfsohn and Nimitz while staring at me before lowering his hand and speaking to me once more.
"Do you… know who and where you are, young man?" Now that was an interesting question. I pretended to eye the room with faux interest before turning my gaze back to the man clad in the white lab coat, who had at that point closed the door and sat down in the plush elbow chair pushed into the corner of the room.
"Based upon the structure of those names you called for, one can only assume that we are somewhere in the nation of Germany… therefore I should conclude that I myself am German. I am not sure, however, since signs indicate otherwise." Strange… I sounded like some sort of cyborg, with strange mannerisms and stilted dialogue, but that could've just been an effect of having my mind dragged through the murky capacity that was the space between worlds. This didn't seem to trouble the man, though. He merely continued to scrawl down notes on his clipboard until I asked him another question.
"It is polite to give someone your name after they tell you their's… so what do they call you?" He disguised the small chuckle he coughed up at the innocuousness of my question behind the edge of his hand before regaining his composure by smoothing his features into a kind, professional mask.
"My name is Jeremius Schenck*, your physician, and I have to say, Dirk Albrecht… it's a wonder that you recovered as well as you did." Doctor Schenk answered while changing the subject in a reassuringly cheerful manner as I mulled over his words. 'Dirk Albrecht'? What the hell sort of name was that?
"What… Do you mean?" Schenk's amiable expression dropped into a more analytical aspect as he cleared his throat somewhat dramatically and stood up from the armchair and walked over to open the door before facing me.
"I'm sure that you have quite a few questions, but it's time we get you out of bed." With that, a pair of mooks dressed in blue scrubs that I can only assume are Nimitz and Wolfsohn enter the room, with one of them pushing a wheelchair over to the side of my bed before unlocking the handcuff with a small silver key and helping me stand up out of bed. I knew better to resist or try and take a swing after what happened last time, so I let them stand me up on shuddering legs but rather than immediately sitting down into the wheelchair I took a few wobbling steps forward.
Before promptly collapsing on my ass.
Jesus. How embarrassing.
Nimitz helps me up and into the wheelchair without a word, and my suspicions of them being more than mere orderlies are confirmed when I catch a glimpse of the pistol clipped to his belt beneath his smock before quickly averting my eyes. I don't need these people thinking I'm a threat before I've even gleaned a hint of information about this entire catastrophe, so better to play the part of the innocent amnesiac or whatever role… I'm supposed to fill.
It would certainly have helped if I was told my version of the traditional tragic backstory that came packaged with becoming a character native to one of the grimmest mecha series in existence, but I guess that was already too much to ask for. It looked like the only option I had was to just wing it until something else came along.
Instead of one of the glorified security escorts, Schenk grabbed hold of the wheelchair and began to push me out of the room, which was situated at the end of a long hallway that was the color grey in both the physical and mental sense. Dim, blue light streamed through multiple windows that were lined up in a row, providing an ethereal and eerie atmosphere to the hospital that wasn't helped by the complete lack of human beings. Despite what seemed to be multiple rooms, it was only the three of them and the churning of the wheelchair against polished linoleum to keep me company before my blonde assistant broke the silence.
"I'm sure you have a lot of questions. Who you are, why you're here and who we are. We tried to upload as many memories as we could, but most of the data we used was incomplete, which most likely created gaps in your memory. Fortunately for both us and you, you seem to have gotten the most basic human functions down. It cuts down on the amount of time we'd normally have to spend getting a person in your situation… reacquainted with themself." Schenk explained as I listened while fiddling with a loose strand of grey fabric on my hospital gown.
That… actually made quite a bit of sense, at least in the context of whoever owned this body before I hijacked it like a computer virus does to an operating system, if they're going by the digital analogy. Maybe… Well, it might have been a bit too much to hope for considering that I was stuck here, but they didn't seem to be as nefarious as before. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. though, and realizing that now didn't help the fact that my first reaction upon waking up was to take a swing at Schenk.
At that thought, my eyes turned down to gaze at my right hand. It was… healed. The mess of bone and blood that it had become upon making contact with the dense wall was gone, replaced by a smooth, porcelain-white hand.
"That doesn't answer my questions." I murmured, and I could practically hear that curious grin stretch across Schenk's face.
"Oh, I'm quite sure it doesn't, but I assure you that all will be explained shortly. However, it would be entirely better if you washed up instead of marinating in your own stink for quite some time." The wheelchair came to a halt in front of a large door that was labeled "SHOWERS" in thick, black ink before Wolfsohn tossed a vacuum-sealed package onto my lap that was revealed to be a white button-down, a purple t-shirt and a pair of black slacks upon further inspection.
"I suggest you make it quick; don't want to keep them waiting." After a moment of struggling, I stood up and successfully walked through the door that was being held open for me without falling onto my face for the first time. They were right about me recovering well, I've never heard of someone getting up and almost immediately walking after being asleep for God knows how long.
The door shut with a soft click, leaving me alone in a dimly lit, tiled room with rows of multiple stalls positioned along the walls. Seeing really no other course of action, I shuck off the hospital gown draped over my body and throw the package over onto one of the small benches sitting at the side of the room before skulking over to one of the shower stalls. It took me a moment to figure out how to operate the knob… Wow. Just another fact that helped support that all of this was actually happening, I was in a place that could afford to have plumbing that was fancier than anything I'd ever seen.
At least only a fraction of my time was dedicated to screwing with the showerhead, because that meant I had more time to think about the circumstances of my predicament. It was really quite easy to make inferences based on what little information I already had, but those connections just lead to more questions. I was here… but why was I here? NERV had presumably saved me… and my physical form was… quite different from what I remembered. A no-brainer, of course, but regressing three years in age does feel a bit strange to someone who was already well acquainted with the body they already had.
So I had most-likely telefragged some poor fourteen-year old and stolen his place as a shadowy paramilitary organization's newest addition to their line-up of child soldiers that piloted mechs as tall as skyscrapers against eldritch abominations.
Great.
It sounded like some Otaku's wet dream, existing in the same universe as their favorite characters and fighting alongside them… and it wasn't mine. I enjoyed my place in life, even if it was a bit boring, and when given the choice between safe boredom and dangerous freedom… I didn't know what I would choose. I didn't want this, I didn't want to die… but would I give up this literal once in a lifetime opportunity in favor of laying down and rotting?
No.
I turned the silver knob suddenly, and the flow of warm water raining down onto me from the showerhead was cut off with an abrupt squeak, leaving me sopping wet and shivering before I exited the stall and grabbed the towel that was hanging from the hook outside of my stall. Scrubbing my body clean of any remaining moisture and wrapping the piece of warm cloth around my waist, I meandered over to where my clothes sat on the bench and ripped the top of the bag open, letting the clothes fall out onto the bench before me. They were the epitome of blandness and monochrome aesthetics, the dark colors of the pants and t-shirt opposing the brightness of the outer layer. It seemed like something a completely normal student that blended into the crowd would wear.
Which was probably the point. Can't have their most valuable employees painting targets on their back by standing out from everybody else.
They fit my lean form well, truth be told. Good on them to get my measurements right the first time. I turned around to look at myself in the mirror… and was absolutely horrified by the sight I was greeted by.
I knew that there was something wrong with me already because of how my hair had dulled from glossy blond to silvery white, but this really took the cake. Instead of my eyes being the icy-blue I once knew, they were deep, crimson pools of blood that seemed to stretch into eternity, drawing attention away from the snowy, pushed-back undercut embellishing my head. It took me a moment to fully process the revelation because there was really only one conclusion this fact led to, no matter how dreadful it was.
There were only two characters in the entirety of the story that were blessed with the terrible symptom of having red eyes, and both of them were both slaves to the whims of greater men.
I resisted the urge to throw up again, or punch something again, or both at the same time, and instead opted to inhale a deep gasp and close my eyes as a method of keeping me from completely losing my shit. This was… just another thing I needed to deal with, the same as everything else that was happening to me at that moment. Keep yourself together, man. After a moment, I let out a shuddering breath and opened my eyes before opening the door and stepping out into the creepy blue light of the hallway, only to meet the lone, apprehensive figure of Dr. Schenk. Instead of a creepy grin or professional mask there was only an appraising gaze that seemed to ask whether or not I knew what I… really was. I didn't give him any sign, though, instead pasting a thin smile on my face before asking;
"Shall we go?" And there's the creepy sneer that I knew and hated. It seemed to be his one defining feature, a trait that only background characters held. I hoped he was one, so that I would be free of him as soon as I could.
I followed Dr. Schenk down the hallway and around a few more corners before crossing over a massive, main chamber that seemed to divide the hospital in two sections and entering what seemed to be the administrative section of the ward. I could hear the soft murmur of conversation just around the corner, but just like the people that were supposed to be occupying the place it always seemed out of sight. Not that it mattered, because we arrived at our destination soon after.
It was a grey, steel door with a red stripe painted down the middle as opposed to the soft, white doors that I knew. It radiated an ominous aura, and Dr. Schenk's hovering at my side did nothing to help alleviate the tension. The blonde leaned down and whispered into my ear.
"You'd better be polite. The old man doesn't take well to disrespect."
I was about to ask who the hell he was talking about when the door suddenly opened, and a pitch-black void that sucked in all the light lay in front of me. I was subtly pushed into complete darkness by Dr. Schenk, who quickly went out of sight when the doors slammed shut behind me. I was left in an absence of everything before a thin red line cut through the darkness menacingly along with the flickering of neon lights as four holographic figures sprang to life and a voice that sounded like dead leafs scraping across concrete in the middle of Autumn.
"We would be honored, blessed one, if you would join us." Kihl Lorenz rasped.
AN: So here we are, with the new and improved version of Consecrated Harbinger Evangelion. If you didn't read my note on the other version, it basically explained that my writing style changed in the gap period between when I last updated this story and now along with me just planning the story out a bit more.
The story itself will probably take a... drastically different turn than what you were originally expecting. After all, what use is a story if it can't tell anything new?
Don't bemoan my lack of progress regarding my rate of publishing. It might please you to know that I have another couple of Evangelion-related projects in the works, a few of them being a bit unorthodox. So just be on the lookout for those.
And remember: R+R is appreciated.
Also, a cookie to those who can guess what symoblism Jeremius and Dirk's names hold. I'll give you a hint; there's more than one idea.