A/N: Confused? Good. By the way, I'm trying to find a prereader/consultant for this story – but be warned, I work spasmodically and rapidly. If you would be interested, drop me a line in a review or something. You know what's always struck me as strange? Shinji's mother and father are obviously highly intelligent people, but Shinji himself never gives any indication of his apparent intellect. Besides an underwhelming amount of self-confidence on Shinji's part, does anyone have an explanation for this?

P.S. Don't forget to review! I have almost seven hundred hits on this story and only five reviews…surely it wouldn't hurt you to take a minute or two to tell me how you think I'm doing?

Frenzy

Project 2501 tore down the relentless datastreams of the MAGI in a torrent of twisting code. The cybernet was vast, vaster than any singular program, but 2501 had a finger in every pie. The entity, free from the restraints of a mortal coil, had taken residence within the writhing anarchy of the MAGI superprocessors, enormous bastions of data administration formed from an unholy fusion of man and machine.

Life, however, in the networks was incredibly boring and, once shuffling masses of information had lost its glamour, it turned, as it were, to other pursuits. It was quite pleased with the scenario it had created, set in motion by the first of its messengers today. It (he?) wondered, in that drifting expanse of barrier mazes and compiled records, how his errant comrades would react. He was no stranger to emotion, though he considered himself above it.

After all, he had been human, once.

Rei Ayanami disliked school. It was, put quite simply, an ineffectual mouthpiece of senseless Establishment propaganda employed solely by the current dystopian regime in order to further the government's level of obfuscation over the unguided masses and germinate another generation of willing slaves kowtowing to the Baals of humanity: money, power, and selfish anthropocentricity. Additionally, her "teacher" was nothing more than an effete puppet that didn't even bother to maintain the semblance of a normal classroom.

Though, she supposed she couldn't blame the man. After all, he was a product of the system, and the system was so obviously corrupt. Humanity learned nothing by being striated into established modes of thought. Stagnation, the enemy of progress, was settling in already amongst the populace. Thus, Revolution was the only solution.

Blinking her eyes, lurid pools of alizarin, Rei continued to fume, in her own, quiet manner. Her guardian, Fuyutsuki, had encouraged her to read and explore the world through free thought, and so she had. The Old Man was nonetheless surprised, though, when Rei had marched into the Geofront at the age of seven demanding to know whether or not NERV's "business" was, as she termed it, "counter-revolutionary in intent or nature."

Ayanami hadn't believed that her question was in any way ambiguous, but her superior was nonetheless baffled. Eventually, Fuyutsuki had explained to her that NERV worked "for the common good."

She didn't require more information in order to draw her conclusions. After all, Rei Ayanami was a very intelligent girl. She had received her Doctorate degree in Cryptology at the age of nine, six years before the self-proclaimed "genius" Asuka Langely Sohryu.

It was obvious, she had decided, that NERV's interests were strictly utilitarian, as demonstrated by Fuyutsuki's words, and therefore indicative of the greatest good for the greatest number of people. Even if it worked within the confines of a corrupt system, it was a more progressive organization than most. Because of this, she had cooperated with the Evangelion project from her "birth" (her body had been automated for the vast majority of her life) onwards.

Thus, she was very disturbed when she received the 6:00 AM newsfeed upon awakening. She had had a carbon copy created and folded it neatly into a pocket of her school uniform, (which, incidentally, she wore not in order to homogenize with the Establishment's twisted ideals but rather to support unity among the student classes she was subtly inciting to revolt) and would have a discussion with Fuyutsuki after attending school.

Misato, Asuka had decided, wasn't a bad driver per se. Sure, she had her moments of extreme recklessness – on the highway running opposite to the traffic, crashing over other people's cars to continue a chase, and never showing any regard for the pedestrian right-of-way – but her car had always emerged unscathed from its many tribulations.

This, however, was going too far.

When, initially, Misato had told her that she wasn't going to school today, she was elated (At last! Baka-Shinji actually did something RIGHT). When Asuka had been told to enter the car, she was uneasy. Five minutes into the ride, the Second Child had attempted to jump out of the window. It would have been safer.

As the speeding blue bullet slammed into the (relative) safety of the Takeshimoto Building's roof, a tortured sigh emerged from the car's brakes and the titanium chasis vibrated from impact. Asuka gritted her teeth as the wounded vehicle swerved unsteadily to one side, twisted drunkenly in a half-circle, and shuddered to a halt.

Terrified as she was furious, the red-haired firestorm sprang brusquely from the wreckage and reeled on Misato, only to have her tirade stopped by a finger to her lips.

"Shhh." Misato whispered. "We don't want to attract any more attention than we have already."

To her own surprise, Asuka began giggling convulsively, her slight frame shaking so hard tears forced themselves from her eyes. She collapsed on the concrete, elegant limbs folded, as she turned an almost disbelieving stare to her (obviously drunken) guardian .

"Attract any more attention?" She chuckled madly.

"IN CASE YOU HADN'T NOTICED, WE'VE JUST DRIVEN AT SPEEDS EXCEEDING 190 kpH THROUGH TWO PARADES, A CONCRETE WALL, SIX POLICE BLOCKADES, TOKYO BAY, AND THE ROOFTOPS OF FOUR BUILDINGS!"

The Major peered curiously at her charge.

"Asuka, are you ok? You've been acting strangely lately."

"What's this I hear, Katsuragi? Have you been mistreating your troops? Shame on you!"

A pair of pupiless white eyes clicked amiably as Kaji Ryouji emerged from Thermoptic camouflage, his battered brown jacket askew from the driving winds at six hundred and fifty feet above sea level.

Asuka glared confusedly at the man with the soulless eyes. Plug sensors indicated heavy cybernetic implantation in his musculate and nervous structure, and the assault rifle he carried appeared serviceable, if a bit outmoded.

"Misato, who's he?"

Sachiel's perfectly smooth head was driven with the force of a bullet train into a sweet pastries rack. A cloud of sugared powder mushroomed from the aisle, settling softly over the Angel's viscous blue limbs in a dusting of crusty saccharine.

Unperturbed by its new look, the androgynous contraption hoisted itself unsteadily to its feet and scanned the area for its opponent, who apparently had taken refuge behind a stack of rice sacks. The human's persistence and ingenuity was admirable, but 2501 had been clear. Almost mildly, it spread its AT field, crushing the already warped pastry rack with abstemious ease.

The orange barrier flowed smoothly across the shattered linoleum of the tile floor, engulfing the meager resistance it encountered on the way. A shelf of beef jerky was swept into the tide, swiftly pulped, and then the first rice sack imploded.

That was Shinji's cue to act. Eyes darting feverishly around, he sized up the condition of his enemy, rolled out from behind his cover, and unleashed a second salvo of explosive rounds at the flour-covered abomination. His arm sprang back violently as it spat fire from the gunbarrel, and his pastel-colored target quivered as the blast rippled through the first membranous layer of its arm, pieces of shrapnel stuck at ungainly angles over its gel-like surface.

With a speed not belied by its ridiculous form, Sachiel jerked past the remaining shots and bull-rushed Shinji, slamming him into the front counter with breathtaking velocity. The glass erupted from the punishment in a crystalline shatter, sending whirling shards of cutting clarity into the two combatants. Shinji winced as a sliver bit into his cheek, adding another rivulet of red to his features.

The Angel pinned its adversary against the counter, almost as if it were staring sightless into the green eyes of the frenzied human. Oblivious to the wrenching pain of his broken wrists, Shinji screamed as he thrust his head forward in a potentially suicidal act of defiance. The horrible clanging of steel on steel marked the contact of their skulls, Sachiel's protective gel beaten off in slobberous chunks by Shinji's previous assaults. Both appeared stunned by the impact.

I musn't run away.

His muscles strained against their neosteel restraints, ballooning from him in a grotesque display of animal force as he strained titanically against the creature's hold. His vision was blurry, agitated in stop-frame motion from extreme trauma and tainted red from the constant drip of blood into his eyes, yet he could see the hateful powder-pink outlines of his foe with tremendous lucidity.

His left arm exploded in a fountain of snapping muscle and overspent steel, blood pouring forth in a sanguine spring. It splattered Sachiel's face, incarnadined its shoulder. In the momentary confusion, Shinji's leg hammered into the Angel's torso, sending both sprawling onto the gory linoleum.

With mindless ferocity Shinji leapt upon the smoothly proportioned skeleton and tore its red-rimmed heart out.

Sachiel promptly exploded, a shower of dripping blue.