Warnings: This story has shounen-ai undertones. If you've not seen Episode 24, then this story may spoil you. But then, if you haven't seen Episode 24, what are you waiting for? See it already!
Disclaimer: If I owned Evangelion, Gendo Ikari would've been skewered on satellite TV for the world to watch, Kaworu and Shinji would have skipped out of NERV holding hands and giving everyone else the finger, and Asuka would have all the Pocky and motherly love she could stand. But alas, I do not own Evangelion or all the entities therein. All of that belongs to GAINAX (among others). All hail GAINAX!
Choice(author's notes at end of story)
italics: telepathy, transmitted thoughts
For millennia, the spawn of Lilith ruled in her garden. They grew, their minds expanded, they rebuilt her garden in their own image. Bit by bit, the spawn of Lilith crawled to this point, where they challenge God Himself by demanding fruit from the Tree of Life.
God is not amused.
Fifteen messengers dispatched. Fifteen messengers fallen. Do I dare to think that I will be any different?
That, as always, is for God to decide. I am just another player in the grand production. His will shall be done.
However, just how do I decipher the will of God?
That is too lofty a thought. Allow me to go back to the beginning.
I am Tabris. My charge is free will; I reign over choices. Decisions. Alternatives. On an ordinary day, I am invoked from corporate boardrooms to dressing rooms. Such is the nature of Lilim: there is always a choice.
Today is no ordinary day. Lilim have made decisions that have lead to this point. I am standing in the heart of sin. Call it NERV.
The choice I am faced with, also, is not ordinary. To be or not to be? A Lilim put it that way once. It is fitting that a Lilim would refer to this: judgment.
Am I reluctant in this task? Perhaps. I will confess: there is nothing I would enjoy more than unfurling the Gates of Hell and unleashing the very destruction that they deserve, these basest of creatures. They steal, they war, they kill. They break their own progeny like twigs to use in a holy war, all to save their own skins.
Pathetic.
Evil.
Death is too good for them.
So, why have I not given the Lilim precisely what is coming to them?
God, it seems, enjoys conflict on a personal level as much as He enjoys the larger struggles. My weight to bear has dark eyes to match his hair. He is the one ignorant of his own worth, the one afraid to speak too loudly or openly, the one who is seized by fear and regret and loneliness despite his important position. Call him Shinji.
To him, I am Kaworu of the Seashore. I am kind to him. I smile at him. What commentary is it on the Lilims that a boy would cling so desperately to the first scrap of kindness he receives from someone he has known for only a few hours?
Swine.
Monsters.
However, for the sake of one, I will even the playing field. I need her to do this. Her blood betrays her. I sense her approaching.
Speak to me with your mind, and I will hear you.
I know she has heard me. As the escalator brings her to view, she jumps. She is at least bright enough to recognize that I am the person who spoke to her. But my lips did not move. Will you speak to me in kind? Or … could this be?
You were not informed?
Cunning Lilims.
I look into the face of the girl and wonder what it must be like to be entirely unaware of one's role in the larger whole, this dangerous game. I think I envy her. Ignorance must be beautiful in times like these.
Her eyes, they remind me of the others. Fifteen. Do I dare to make this move when it could cost me my objective?
I do.
"You are the First Child?"
She is still. Silent. Not unlike stone.
Put this together.
A flicker of recognition in those blood-colored eyes tells me that she is still hearing me.
We are being watched, however. Vocal communication is highly appropriate, thusly. "Rei Ayanami …"
The same eyes, the same skin, the same predicament …
"You are the same as me."
Those familiar eyes narrow almost immediately. I do not sense intimidation or annoyance. It is hard to read her. Her soul is muddled, a mix of Lilith and Lilim and other elements. I am reminded of Frankenstein. This is the product of the Lilims playing God. Interesting.
"Who are you?" she asks in a voice that verges on demanding. I appreciate that she does not dance around the issue.
Let's see … am I the Angel or the boy? Neither name would be of much significance. In the end, it all leads to the same source.
We are the same, but opposite.
Lilith's garden is poisoned, and I am to decide its fate.
Seek and you shall find the reason for your existence.
The girl blinked at my last communication. I think that intrigued her the most: the mystery of her being. She is a tool being used by forces she does not understand. On the other hand, I have stepped willingly into the fray knowing the entire world. Enlightenment has eluded her, but I know she can put the pieces together.
Shinji-kun, I do this all for you. I possess no delusions of doing this in the spirit of fairness. This is a war. The boy is my enemy. Yet, I hand him the very sword upon which I could fall. I am a blithe fool.
The quizzical, if mildly annoyed, look on the girl's face reminds me that I did not answer her question. She is no longer startled. She is not entirely comfortable, either. "Who are you?" she repeats.
I lean in to her. Our pallid bodies – mutual yet separate prisons – are no more than an inch or two apart. Her ear is akin to a shell that one would find on the seashore. My seashore … this is the last one. I am the last one.
My voice is low, a whisper only she can hear. "Mokushiroku." I feel the word reverberating in her ear, making waves throughout her consciousness. My work here is done.
Withdrawing from her personal space, I offer a gesture of goodwill: a smile. Ahhh, Lilith. Used and abused by your own children. Are they worth saving? Will they find redemption? Only time will tell.
Rei Ayanami: not entirely ethereal, not entirely human, not yet aware of the significance of her being. She, too, has earned my sympathy. My heart is another matter, and is already reserved. He is waiting for me even now, listening to "Ode to Joy". Our song. I take my leave of Miss Ayanami with a bow and another smile. She looks … about as close to bewildered as she can muster.
With that, the game begins. How it ends, only God knows. His will shall be done. I can only hope that in the process, the end result is that the boy who has so irrevocably altered my plans is protected. That is my choice.
Note: I couldn't resist the Utena reference. Just couldn't! For those who don't know, "mokushiroku" means "apocalypse".
