Tennyson had set the study to order (after cleaning up the prior night's blood). Here were secrets beyond mortal limits, and lies for which there was no truth. As he dusted the covers and spines of the tomes, the sight of his own hand caught his eye. He found his own skin smooth and unfamiliar. Years uncounted, many millennia in the least had past since he had taken such a youthful appearance. When you felt old at heart a set of mottled bones feels justified. But not this day, not this life he thought to himself. We will live again as we once did, do little things as we once did. Try to do big things, as we once tried. Succeed again? No, he shook his head. He didn't think that likely. 'B.T ?' He turned his head and found Val standing at the door, complete with pajamas and toothpaste.

'You sure it's a good idea to go back there, having just been "killed" the other day?'

Val dismissed it all as minor detail, then left the room rubbing his eyes with only a "bite me" in reply. Tennyson chuckled, looked to an open volume upon the desk, seeing the pen and paper; raised his eyes to the heavens and said to no one in particular 'Let this be a good day'

The image of The Lord of Powers eating puffed cereal at a breakfast table caused brought Tennyson pause, before putting on an English muffin for himself.

A mere thirty minuets later they were both heading out the door when Val stopped in his tracks. Tennyson waited and looked back at Val. 'Ten, I don't intend to run into that brat on the way to school. So…I'm going to cheat a little.'

'Is that wise?'

'No...Not really, but who around here is going to notice?'

Tennyson grimaced a bit.

'Let's keep the "cheating" to a minimum ok?'

Val smirked.

'It's me right? I can take care of myself right?'

Tennyson turned on him and said in a solemn voice.

'That is precisely what worries me.'

Tennyson resumed his march, ambivalent but sure. He wouldn't try to stop him, not every minor infraction. Sometimes though, minor things have a way of adding up.

Valthalion turned a corner and walked down the alley where he had been shot. Inside his shirt pocket he kept a piece of charcoal, which he withdrew. In one continuous stroke, he drew a simple arched door on the alley wall. He then placed his palms upon it and closed his eyes. He pictured the rooftop the school, and saw there a door opening out of the small structure in which the stair led down. He reached out, and brought them together. Back in the alley, the area inside the charcoal glowed, and Val pushed through it like a membrane, stepping out onto the school rooftop. The light in the doorway faded but Val marked the spot with charcoal before he walked down to the classroom. What he failed to notice though, was the roof had another visitor at the time. Rei Ayanami emerged from an unseen corner, nearly shocked out of her wits.

Shinji and Asuka made it into the classroom just before the bell, took their seats and tried to regain their breaths. As things settled down and the school day began Shinji stole a glance at Rei. Whom he alone noticed was doing something unusual. She was staring at someone in the back of the class using the windows reflection. He lacked the energy to put more thought into it though. Today he was going to vegetate. Asuka's offer to play cards made a surprisingly active pastime

School went on, and so the teacher. The cicada sang, and the cock crooned. The day did drag, and in the space of those few hours' lifetimes ended in the virtual space of the children's laptops. Away from this sublime paradise of youth, Tennyson lacking any timely needs took it upon himself to go out and see the world.

Tennyson had also decided to 'cheat', his own modest restraint being only for the sake of sympathy. The powers of Tennyson were varied, but that ability closest to him was the method of the book. His means of controlling the dream skill passed down to him from Luxor in another life. From beneath his suit he withdrew a well traveled, fair bound book. He opened it with reverence, its blank pages reflecting warmly in the morning sun. Holding the book in his left hand and placing his right upon the open face, he brought to mind the image of a quill and began to pen his day. A light bright and pure sprang from its pages. Valley, pool and mountain's peak he visited. Skyrise, subway and urban sprawl he saw. Ocean floor, earthen cave, to moon's thirsty shore he stood on and took measure. Till he felt weariness upon him, and found himself reposing on a Tokyo-3 park bench. What a strange earth this one, he thought, so very different from his other life…so very, very long ago. He brought the tiny threads and flax of truth he saw, spun them together in his head and wove of them a tapestry.

Grim and marrow

Death and sorrow

Heavens promise and hells debt

Layman's hope and masters plan

Shapeless spectacles

The errant hand

The chickens scratch

Imperfect man

These things are joined

This legacy is woven

Ageing men

Ragged crowns golden

A dry decay

Unmolded

This fleshless corpse

Yes, thought Tennyson. They can answer for these….things.

Let them pray need not answer to them at all. He stood, and walked towards the open market that had sprung up without even the slightest city planning (much to the chagrin and annoyance of the city council). Here, amid the myriad wives and salary men were the proffered goods of civilization. Fruits, fish and vegetables lined the walkways along with stereos, CDs and other assorted oddities you might not find on other worlds.

The hustle and bustle was heartfelt and good, along the ever changing river of aroma dancing from store to shop. Here he selected a lotus blossom, placed on his chest. Tasting, one by one, the vivid local colors brought a smile to his face. Made him look back towards a place where wine was treated with lead, and vestal virgins paraded the street. Yet that thought stopped him. That had not been a happy place…dripping with blood, disease and famine. Yet here was a new center for the world, only this time the barbarians had made it

Taking his time, he strolled into an open air lounge. The crowd was dressed somewhat nicely, more so gaudily… but the drinks were first rate, of that Tennyson was sure (his nose never led him astray). His perception of distilled spirits aged past any vintage. Of note was a rather magnificent black grand piano just sitting in a corner unattended. Nursing a whisky (at noon!) he walked over and sat down.

Slowly, one by one he teased the keys. Tap, tap, tapping. He played out a simple melody, working faster. Note and Ivory, lacquer and key storming, swept him up... A song swirled from his lips, and painted words. He sung from the heart, straight from the soul, formed of his mind; the maestro, artist, author.

'I'm going to fight this, know you…'

Tennyson's expression fell. Standing over him was a rather pleasant looking but insufficiently so to make up for the owners person, evening dress. 'Just what, pray tell, are you doing here Athena?' said Tennyson with not a small trace of annoyance. 'Isn't there some small corner of Pantheon you could be conspiring about?' Athena's dark eyes lit up with amusement.

'Oh, but I am, Pantheon is everywhere. "All that is" One-way or anther it all works out.'

Tennyson turned from her. 'You're absolutely hopeless you know. Tell me something? Just how deep did you bury your humanity hmm? Just write me when you manage to dig it up.'

Now it was Athena's turn to get angry. 'Is humanity such a great thing? Look around you, look to the farthest watchtowers of this world. What's the difference of this place and hell? The shade of the sky, a touch of brimstone…a dash of sulfur?

'They suffer…and they suffer less for not having you in it… Why must you be a mote in Val's eye? One can only imagine what would happen if ever you took the chair. Not in my darkest verse or blackest dream could I delve such a pit.'

'Best hold your tongue scribe…both my memory and reach are long…and sharp.'

'Don't be insufferable, I'm hardly the ink stained man you once tossed along the forum floor. Oh I know you could take me except…You might have many servants, but I've far more friends. Keep that on your short attention span when you dare make threats.'

Athena kept Tennyson locked in their gaze, and sensed the conversation was turning dangerous. When all at once she realized they were alone…the bar had emptied.

'Tennyson, what in the world?' She asked as she looked around. To which he gave her a 'hell if I know' shrug. That was when they heard the sirens. In synchronous fashion they both looked up…and paused.

'It's falling?'

'It is falling.'

'On us?'

'On us.'

'Why?'

'Pardon?'

'…Why doesn't it just throw rocks?'

Tennyson, who a moment before was on the verge of losing his temper, had been reduced to exasperation.

'Are you a fucking retard!'

Athena, who a moment before was on the verge of losing her temper, had been reduced in status from goddess to preschool girl.

'Look here! Robert said something about…' Tennyson didn't let her finish.

'Dipping into the loonie jar have we been? Why do you assume, just because it's up in the sky it can grab boulders on the moon?'

Athena did her best impression of a pout.

'It doesn't seem so far from up there.'

'You simply …must… be shitting me Athena.'

They locked into another angry stare, though missing the feral tinge of the previous one.

'Well?'

'Well WHAT?'

'Aren't you going to stop it?'

'I don't have to.'

And that was when Unit-1 came flying by, nearly stepping on the two unreals.

It is said that the Lightbringer fell like lightning, well so the angel thought…imitation was the sincerest form of flattery. Still, he didn't quite have the heart to go through with it. He was oh so glad when those nice things came out to catch him. The silent 'wheeeee!' he had been braying had turned to a frightened squeal halfway down when he saw just how sharp and unforgiving Tokyo-3 looked. He had been trying rather desperately to slow himself down since, but (gravity being a pesky thing) hadn't succeeded. He was just about ready to give the purple one the biggest hug ever, but that was when he got something stuck in his eye.

A child is forever…

Forever and anon…

In the shadow of the mind…

In the twilight of forever…

We remember ourselves…

Not as we are

But as we were…

Can you not see?

The understanding of a child isn't weak…

It is perfect.

Children have power, and the less they have forgotten themselves, the more power they have. It isn't an obvious power; it's a seldom used power. But an awesome power nonetheless. Sometimes the heavens call…and sometimes, we call the heavens.

Shinji, Asuka, and Rei are closer to the truth then they know. Far closer then the so called adults and powerbrokers of earth dare dread. They have already felt it in their dreams…the touch of the within without. They don't understand it, but their experiences with Eva had regained them a part of themselves lost to those of age. And is resonated, shivered with the plucking at the frayed borders of their world. The comings, the goings … the changing's. Something was going to happen, it was already happening. An event no fate can foretell, a prophesy ever unspoken. The convergence… the sundering. A conflict far eclipsing the one they knew was now on their doorstep. Invading their very thoughts. The pieces were assembling…and the eyes of The One Who Was Not, had turned their way. In their warm ramen induced sleep, they shivered.

'He knows….'

The words echoed in the bowels of the Pantheon, and they seemed to steal the light in their passing. Word was spreading, and the waiting had begun. They waited like terminal patients, in whom a cancer was growing unabated. When the time came, they would fight…and fight well. But none of their number knew what the outcome would be. For beings who believed they were absolute, nothing could be more distressing. On a thousand thousand planes, legions answered the call, and prepared for war.