Shinji dreamed...

He dreamed of the past.

He remembered long days alone in his room. He had a teacher once, an old man from some obscure sub-branch of the Schola Progenium. That man was more of a father to Shinji than his biological one was. He had taught Shinji almost all he knew.

Then he died, killed by a marauding lowerhive gang that had broken into the hab-block where he resided. The gang was killed to a man by the Palentine Enforcers, but nothing could resurrect their victims.

Shinji never got another teacher. Instead, he was ignored by those around him. Naturally introverted, the isolation pushed his fear of bothering others to an extreme. He browsed his datapad all day, educating himself on the constant newsfeeds and historical recollections. He taught himself to cook, badly at first, but mastering the skill over time. He could have been catered to by a small army of servants. Emperor knows his siblings did.

But he was happy enough, in a small, quiet way. His life demanded little, and what it did require he enjoyed doing. He was abandoned by his father, left alone to eke out an existance.

Until the Honourable Shinji Ikari became Lieutenant Shinji Ikari, and his life went to pieces.


Shinji dreamed of the present.

War was hell. The noise, the sights, the fear... it was all he could do not to just run away. Death, as a concept, was nothing new to him. People died all the time. Violent death, happening to people close to him, was something that his mind was rapidly forced to accept. He saw Mari die in his mind's eye once, twice, a thousand times, seeing her explode in a shower of gore and left in a distended corpse, a mockery of her former shape.


"He just keeps screaming, Inquisitor. Every time it seems like he's going to wake up, he just begins screaming before lapsing into a coma again."

Misato nodded grimly. "Thank you, Magos Akagi."

As Ritsuko walked away, Misato whispered under her breath. "I hope you're right, Rei."


He felt the way her rapidly cooling blood had splattered his cheek, just under his left eye, and tasted it, the coppery tang of misted blood. He heard the grisly crack of her ribs. He saw the arcing of psychic lightning as the weirdboy called on his powers. He yelled, fear pouring out of him. He cut loose the memory, trying to jettison it from his mind.

But how long could he run away for?


Shinji dreamed about the future.

Nebulous uncertainties paved the path before him. What was his fate?

Would he be a blank-faced casualty, worn down in the endless meatgrinder of combat, or be called on to something greater?

Would he meet famous heroes like Lord Castellan Creed or Sly Marbo, or serve the remainder of his duty in backwater planets?

Would he return home in triumph, or be left on some forgotten spot in the Halo Stars, abandoned?

Would he meet one of His Angels of Death, a Space Marine?

Would he... would he... would he...


Misato turned and left the room. He was too far gone. The door closed with a click.

"You were wrong, Rei," Misato said.

"I do not believe I was." Rei pointed through the observation window.

Misato's head shot around. Shinji's eyes were open.


A/N:

Just a short little sequence this time, working on Shinji's internal monologue. No introspection trains though, sorry to disappoint. I'm trying to get more parallels with the show, so be on the lookout for those. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. Remember to review if you haven't already.

Thanks to IllusoryMist for beta reading this chapter, and everyone else on discord for putting up with me. Sorry.


Vocab

Schola Progenium: A branch of the Adeptus Ministorum, dedicated to teaching young nobles, especially those whose parents have died.

Lord Castellan Creed: is the supreme commander of the fortress word of Cadia. Also is a Tactical Genius (capitols required).

Sly Marbo: is a one man army. Comes from the death world of Catachan. Basically the 40k equivalent of Chuck Norris.

Halo Stars: A region in the north rim of the galaxy. Regarded as a very dangerous area.