The sound of an alarm clock buzzing. Its incessant whine is silenced by a "thwack".

A moment passes before a radio comes on, blaring loud rock music.

FADE UP ON:

INT. APARTMENT. MORNING.

A blanket-covered form lies on a large bed. From underneath the covers, a hand groggily wanders out in search of the offensive noise, fumbling on the nearby nightstand for the clock radio. Another "thwack" and it is silenced as well.

A pause.

From the opposite side of the bed, a third alarm goes off, clamoring for its owner's attention.

As the blanketed form rolls over to silence the new offender, the first alarm goes off again, followed by the clock radio with its music.

The outstretched hand falls to the bed in defeat. From underneath the covers comes an audible sigh.

With a grunt, the young man sits up in bed. He's about twenty, with short brown hair and blue eyes. He's not scrawny in any sense of the word, but not too built either. "Cute" in a nerdy kind of way. Meet Shinji Ikari.

He gets out of bed and reaches towards a nearby outlet, unplugging a surge protector crammed with cords. The three alarms are silenced with a squawk.

Shinji crosses the span of the spacious studio apartment he lives in. He flicks on the TV in passing, making a beeline for the kitchen across the room.

On the television, a news anchor is speaking:

Anchor (v.o.): …on the activation of reserve forces last month, one-hundred and twenty-two Labour lawmakers voted against the government -- the biggest revolt since the party came to power back in nineteen ninety-seven. Howard had said during the 10-hour debate: "Back away from this confrontation now and future conflicts will be infinitely worse and more devastating in their effects"…

Shinji half-listens as he prepares coffee.

Anchor (v.o.): While England remains divided over continued involvement in the war, White House Press Secretary James Atherton issued a statement of the United States' continued support for its allies overseas…

The TV cuts to a man in a suit speaking at a press conference. He stands at a podium as he reads from a script.

Speaker (v.o.): We are, at this time, fully committed in our support of the war against Eastern aggression. President Flegman has authorized an additional twenty shipments of supplies including weapons, ammunition, food, vehicles, and other materiel to the front lines of the Ukraine and Poland. Shipments of surplus clothing, food, and other essentials are also being directed towards the populations of these nations devastated by the war. As always, we ask that NATO and her allies take heart in the fact that they are supported by us in this endeavor one-hundred-and-ten percent and that, god willing, we shall prevail in this dark hour. Thank you.

Shinji leaves the coffee to drip as he walks over to the window and opens the blinds. The view is of an urban area that slopes down in the distance, leading to a major metropolitan center. The Bank of America lies within the mass of buildings with the Transamerica Pyramid visible on the horizon.

The rapid beat of paws on the floor causes Shinji to look down at the small brown Dachshund barking at his feet. He reaches down and picks him up, walking back towards the couch and TV. The little dog licks Shinji's face as he tries to keep from dropping it.

Shinji: Morning, Yoshi. Yes, I'm happy you're awake too.

The dog in his arms yips in reply.

The anchor returns onscreen.

Anchor (v.o.): Secretary Atherton did not comment on the recent remarks made by German minister Hans Hagmann about whether or not the President was planning to include American troops in his supply shipments. Whether such resentment exists in the rest of the international community remains to be seen. President Flegman's continued policy of "involvement without action" has also sparked recent dissent amongst both Democrats AND Republicans in the House and Senate. In fact, more than a few government officials have said they would like to see one of the "pillars" of NATO supporting her allies through more than just words…

Shinji sets the pet down on the couch and returns to the kitchen. In passing, he hits a button on a feeding device of some kind. With a whirr, a portion of dog food is dispensed into a dish at its base. The small dog has his face in the bowl before the machine is even done.

Shinji pours a cup of java and heads to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. A moment passes before we hear the sound of a shower running.

Anchor (v.o.): Well, as NATO presence in the region increases daily, AP journalists have been given unprecedented access to the front lines. Our own Kim Prus is currently accompanying a mechanized infantry unit out of Frankfurt, Germany as they advance into the central Ukraine. We'd like to caution our viewers that the following footage may be inappropriate for younger audiences. With that, let's hear what she has to say.

The camera cuts to a woman in woodland camouflage standing in a camp and holding a microphone. Behind her, troops and machinery move by.

Reporter (v.o.): Since the recent Russian advances into the region during the past few weeks, NATO forces have been put on the defensive, reeling from the surprising aggression in a region considered "secured" only months before. A recent attack by Baltic forces took several important river cities, including the major port of Kiev, from Polish and German control, resulting in devastating losses as the Russians pressed almost all the way to the Polish border. We've been hearing reports that other German brigades are on the move along the southern border of Belarus and are massing there. Where I am, at the moment, is with the Twenty-Eighth Schwere Waffen, or Heavy Weapons brigade. They are currently settling in the town of Zhytomyr, a town about a hundred miles west of Kiev and establishing what may become a key base of operations in the effort to retake the central part of the country. Initially labeled as unoccupied, this town was reclaimed after recon elements from the Twenty-Eighth found advancing Baltic forces within the city limits. At some point in the next day or so, they will move farther toward the Dnipro River to support an advance from the south by detachments of Polish Eva and air squadrons stationed on the Crimean peninsula. The tension felt here is warranted as these soldiers will be advancing into what most have dubbed, quite literally, "Der Fluß des Bluts". "The River of Blood"…

The camera cuts to an aerial view of a waterway. A town lies in the distance with a decimated bridge hanging limply across the expanse. A scenic view except that the entire river is filled with a dark, oil-like liquid, black near the middle and dark red along the banks. Blood stems from the dozen or so immobile forms lying in and around the river. Black, Red, Blue, what-used-to-be-white – Evas of various colors and models lie fallen in facsimiles of human death. The reporter speaks over this.

Reporter (v.o): A grim spectacle. The once beautiful Dnipro River, a vital source of commerce among the cities situated along this waterway, now appears like some dark serpent winding its way through a country in its death throes. The recent fighting has only added to the number of dead in a region scarred from more than two years of battle as Eva series, both Baltic and Allied, lie twisted and broken in a graveyard of fallen giants. Because of the amount of contamination presented by the slow decay of the Evas' organic components and the instability of their mechanical ones, there has been little opportunity to rescue any pilots still alive. Since the last attacks, lost pilots are being hopefully listed as MIA until confirmed otherwise…

Shinji comes out of the bathroom in a robe. He stops in the kitchen to pour another cup of coffee and shove a breakfast burrito into the microwave. As that cooks, he plops down on the couch in front of the TV.

On TV, the reporter walks through an encampment, with soldiers trying to relax in the background.

Reporter (v.o.): The conditions here are, as expected, rough. With the coming of spring, the temperature is around fifty-five to sixty; a welcomed relief from the low tens and twenties of February and January, but still a far cry from what most are used to. May is also a fairly rainy month, so weather such as this will be pretty common until later this summer. To get a better idea of just what sort of life is lived out here, I went to ask the soldiers themselves…

The phone rings. Shinji goes to answer it.

The microwave also goes off. Shinji pops the door and reaches in to collect the burrito.

Shinji: Hello?

(Juggling the still hot burrito)

Ow. Hey, what's up? … I'm good. … Yeah, I remember. Why? … But we talked about this – … I thought Dan could cover prep on mornings. … Well, I CAN, but didn't we decide… Uh-huh. … Yeah. …

(Sighs)

No, I did. … I know. … Sure, no problem. It's, uh, it's no trouble. … Okay. See you in a bit. … Bye.

(Hanging up)

Figures.

He goes to eat the burrito, cringing when he gets a mouthful of burnt imitation tortilla. Sighing, he pitches it into a trashcan.

Shinji: Dammitt.

Shinji crosses the room to a dresser by the bed. He mutters as he gets changed. Along with his jeans and t-shirt, he pulls out a rumpled apron, a short-sleeved red shirt, and a hat with a restaurant logo on it.

On the TV, the reporter is interviewing several soldiers with the help of an interpreter.

Yoshi jumps up on the couch with a leash in his mouth, wagging his tail as Shinji walks by again. Shinji pauses, slapping his forehead.

Shinji: Ah, I'm sorry, buddy. They need me in early again. I promise we'll hit the park after I get off, alright?

The little dog looks disappointed.

Shinji throws on some shoes and grabs a set of keys from the wall.

Shinji: (Indicating the TV) Don't sit too close now.

The small dog sits up on the couch, leaning towards the glowing box. He replies with a small grunt.

Shinji exits out the door, slamming it behind him.

The TV still shows the reporter speaking. Now she's standing in a hospital ward with patients and medics all around.

Another group of soldiers sits behind her. Amongst them we see a familiar face: Rei Ayanami sits next to them, staring out the window. She appears unharmed.

Reporter (v.o.): …reserve forces having not yet arrived to this area, rumors circulate of some battalions turning to nearby medical wards in hopes of replacing those gaps. This has yet to be confirmed, though…

The group looks at the camera. Their eyes have dark circles underneath and their features are slack; portraits of fatigue.

Reporter (v.o.): Despite what has happened, the spirit is one of optimism. Fresh troops will be here soon and pilots and ground forces alike seem comforted by this fact. With all things considered, there isn't anywhere safer on the front lines than where I am right now…

She turns to the young people behind her.

Reporter (v.o.): Is there anything you'd like to add before we go?

The interpreter speaks to them. No one responds immediately. A few exchanged tired glances.

After no one responds, the reporter points the mike at a girl sitting at her feet.

The girl has bandages all over her right shoulder and up the side of her neck, including her larynx. Her eyes look as though she's been crying. The girl gingerly takes the microphone from the reporter's hands. She stares at the camera with small nervous eyes and tries to speak. After an uncomfortable pause, the reporter reaches down to take back the mike.

Rei steps down from the window sill where she sits. She pats the girl's other shoulder and takes the microphone instead. The girl lowers her head, making quiet sobbing noises.

The reporter looks puzzled as Rei gets up and approaches the camera in front of her. For an eternity of a second her eyes lock with those of a million viewers. Less than a foot from the lens, she speaks three words in fluent English.

Rei (v.o.): Pray for us.

With that, she tosses the microphone to the side and walks off-camera. The reporter and interpreter stare after her; perplexed.

CUT TO:

INT. RESTAURANT – BAR. MORNING.

An eatery done in the style of a neighborhood grill, with an assortment of useless kitsch hung on the walls.

On the TV suspended over the bar, Rei walks offscreen, tossing the microphone over her shoulder.

Two servers sit and watch the screen with glazed eyes. Being that they're servers, it's understandable; the fact that it's not yet past eight makes it excusable.

Server 1: I didn't know they spoke English.

Server 2: Yeah… in some places.

Server 1:(Pause) She was kind of cute.

Server 2: (Pause) Uh-huh.

They continue watching; half-awake. Behind them, Shinji enters through the front door, exchanging greetings with the hostess on the way in.

He makes his way around the bar, entering the back of the house through the swinging door.

INT. RESTAURANT – KITCHEN.

A microcosm of white walls, red tiled floors, and metal storage racks, the kitchen is rather empty at the moment save for one other employee. A young man stands near a small scale, weighing out portions of cheese from a large container.

Kevin: Hey man.

Shinji: Hey.

Shinji walks over to a computer terminal and punches in.

An older, heavyset woman comes out from the back office.

Rose: Morning Shinji.

Shinji: Hey Rose. Can you clock me in?

She keys a second number into the terminal.

Rose: Sure thing. Hey listen, can you help me out a bit today?

Shinji: What is it?

Rose: I need somebody to cover pantry tonight. Anthony was supposed to, but he called off sick –

Shinji: Anthony always calls off sick.

Rose: – and I need somebody to cover his shift. I think he was scheduled for… five-thirty till… ten?

Kevin: Close.

Rose: Close. Yeah, if you could cover for him that would be great.

Shinji grimaces.

Rose: It would really help me out tonight. Chris is still training Mike on grill and everything and we could use somebody who knows what they're doing.

Shinji: …Fine.

Rose: You'd be getting off at three anyways, so that'll give you a little break for food or whatever.

Shinji: Okay.

Rose: Thanks, my man.

Rose slaps him on the shoulder as she exits.

Shinji stands in the center of the kitchen for a moment before following her, sighing.

INT. RESTAURANT – KITCHEN. LATER.

Friday night at the restaurant. Servers scramble to stay on top of orders while the back of house workers (cooks, prep, etc.) attempt to keep up with the appetite of consumer America. The kitchen is alive; a living, breathing, sweating thing, pulsing from the activity of so many people.

CUT TO IMAGES:

Shinji dumps a bag of French fries into the hot, bubbling grease of the fryer.

Shinji smears burger buns with butter and slaps them onto the grill.

Shinji attempts to open the freezer door while juggling two large containers of Ranch dressing. One decides to upend itself in the process.

INT. RESTAURANT – KITCHEN. MUCH LATER.

Shinji stands in front of the fryer, staring vacantly at a lump of something brown sizzling in the tub before him. To be frank, he looks like shit. His shirt is dirty with all manner of stains and he slouches tiredly.

Server (O.S): Shinji…? Shinji!

The voice stirs him from his reverie. He looks behind to see a server beckoning him from the other side of the make-line.

Shinji: Sorry. What is it?

Server: Some guy out front is looking for you.

Shinji: Some guy? What's his name?

Server: Uh, didn't ask. He said it's important though.

Shinji: Okay… What's he look like?

Server: Well, he's wearing a suit… Looks like somebody from the government or something.

Shinji looks puzzled.

The buzzer next to his head goes off. He hits it and fishes the brown lump – now black – out of the fryer. Shinji peels off his apron as he walks out from behind the line and towards the front.

Shinji: Cover for me, Kev.

Kevin (still sitting at the prep table with the everlasting box of cheese) grunts an affirmative as Shinji walks by.

INT. RESTAURANT – DINING ROOM.

Shinji looks around the restaurant, pushing through throngs of people moving to and around the tables. He reaches the reception area and scans the waiting patrons.

Standing out from the older couples and the families of four is a younger man not much older than Shinji dressed in a dark suit and tie. Rather lanky, he has crew-cut dark brown hair and blue eyes. He returns Shinji's gaze.

Shinji approaches him as the young man fishes a picture out of his jacket pocket. He looks at it and then Shinji before grinning.

Cameron: Shinji Ikari?

Shinji: Yes…?

He puts the picture away and extends his hand to greet the fry cook, smiling.

Cameron: Lieutenant Cameron Fisher, United States Army. Nice to meet you.

Shinji shakes his outstretched hand hesitantly.

Shinji: Hi…

Cameron: Pretty busy tonight, huh?

Shinji: Yeah. Friday and all…

Cameron: Right. Gotcha… You know, I used to work for this chain. That was back in Ohio, though.

Shinji: Uh-huh.

An impasse. Shinji coughs to break the silence.

Shinji: Is, uh, is there something you need?

Cameron: Well, um, they sent me in to collect you…

Shinji: Who's "they"?

Cameron: My superiors. They're waiting outside. If you'll just follow me –

Shinji: Can you tell me what this is about?

Already at the doors, Cameron stops and turns around.

Cameron: (Confused) Didn't they call you?

Shinji: No, no one called me.

Cameron: No phone call? They were supposed to contact you –

Shinji: Who is "they"?!

Cameron chews his lip, considering.

Cameron: Come with me. They can explain it to you better than I can.

He exits. Shinji follows.

EXT. RESTAURANT. EVENING.

Shinji follows Cameron around the side of the building past a parking lot jammed with cars. He talks to Cameron as they walk.

Shinji: What does the American military want with me?

Cameron: Actually, we're just acting as intermediaries. The Pacific Council was the one to contact us by way of the Japanese consulate.

Shinji: What?

Shinji stops in his tracks, momentarily baffled. He shakes his head and chases after Cameron.

Shinji: But I immigrated. I – I'm here now.

Cameron: Oh, they know that. But, um… there's a situation that they think you might be able to help with…

The two of them stop next to a black car sitting at the far end of the lot. A suit in sunglasses stands beside it, drinking coffee from a Styrofoam cup.

Shinji: What happened? Who's "They"?

Cameron: Look, they just told us to come and get you. All I know is that you came highly recommended from the Japanese rep.  Uh…  Chairman Fuyushi, I think.

Shinji: (Thinking) Fuyushi… Fuy…utsuki?

Cameron: That was it! You know him?

Shinji turns to the sound of the car's door opening. A figure steps out.

An older man with trim, gray (somewhat white) hair, a face wrinkled with age, and deep-set, dark eyes that squint in the vanishing light of the day approaches the young Ikari. He wears a simple dark brown suit and a white shirt with an unbuttoned collar and loose tie.

After an awkward pause, the former Sub-Commander of NERV, Kozou Fuyutsuki addresses his former sub-ordinate with a simple pleasantry.

Fuyutsuki: (Clears throat) Hello, Shinji.

CUT TO BLACK.