Shadow of The Angels

Ch.4

Sinister Sundown

Standard Disclaimer


Everyone watched without uttering a sound. The shaking earth didn't deter them as they watched their small hand held television sets. Families huddled together watching the small 4 inch by 4 inch screens to see the fate of the world; glorious mankind facing off against an enemy that was monstrous and sought its destruction. Everyone in every sheltered watched what little of the broadcast they could see. Every news station had its reporter giving their opinion on the action taking place in the middle of Tokyo-3.

"And Nerv's special pilot is bravely facing off one on one with the evil angel. Mankind's survival in his hands," One reporter announced over the broadcast, emotion evident in his voice. Knowing that if the giant robot should lose nothing would be in the monsters path. Brimming with species pride he puffed out his chest and gestured to the glorious battle.

The monsters battled on the surface. The horrendous beast floating in the air, its tentacles playing across the landscape; and then there was the purple machine. Rising tall and hunched slightly, its proud shoulders broad and its figure elegant.

"The Greatest achievements of mankind and humanities finest pilot facing off against a monstrosity like no other. Will the brave pilot be able to conquer this monstrosity like the previous one, all we can do is hope that he succeeds." Another reporter aired on a station with the battle in the background. Fear ridden in his voice, he still instilled a pride in humanity.

A building collapsed as the monster whipped itself around. Empty shell cases scattered the streets as the pilot pulled off round after round into the constantly closing enemy.

"It seems that Nerv's pilot is hard pressed against such an enemy, will he be able to triumph. Humanities hopes are on his shoulders." A woman nearly crying spoke into the camera. Her hands shaking as she briefly glanced back and forth between the camera and the battle in the city.

In an instant the floating melee monster closed in; seemingly blurred to the human eye, tail flailing out and sending the purple colossus into the sky, casting a shadow over the hill side.

"It seems that Nerv's robot has gone airborne, and it's HEADING THIS WAY!" One woman quickly gathered her camera crew and ran. The endangered camera man still catching the sight of the airborne Evangelion as it cast a shadow over them.


8 Hours earlier

"Touji are you sure you should do this. I mean its just a rumor." Kensuke consoled his friend as he marched down the halls of the middle school.

To say Touji was irritated would be an understatement. Coming back to school for the first time in 2 whole weeks and the first thing he hears is the upstart Ikari kid saying he's a pilot.

Now in all truth Shinji Ikari never spoke a word about his occupation. However; obviously as the numbers in Tokyo-3 dwindled the incoming student ration was 0. In fact it hadn't happen to the interwoven class for 4 consecutive years. Not only that, but the females believed that the whole aspect added more to his attractive ensemble. And since he was with Ayanami frequently, there was some link between him and Nerv. It was only a common conclusion to think of the same thing. Sadly none of the girls could get Shinji alone or at any convenient time for much of anything other then a quick word.

But Touji's mind was far from being practical or logical. All he knew was that because of this single bastard, his sister was undergoing painful surgery. And her ability to walk would only be gained back through months maybe years of physical therapy. Touji Suzahara had a couple unpleasant traits; like jumping to conclusions, but being a bad older sibling was not one of them. Marching to the courtyard everyone watched as the resident sweat suited jock moved onto the unfortunate new kid. Rolling up his sleeves he cocked stretched his shoulder, preparing for the strongest punch he had ever thrown. Scanning the courtyard he spotted the young Ikari reading a small book on a school bench. Riding the escalator down to meet the young boy Touji filled himself with undignified rage. Visions of his sister hooked up to the countless medical contraptions that litter a hospital. Hearing her whimper in her sleep as parts of her legs bled. Everything rolled together into a ball of rage, that would be unleashed on the suspected pilot.


At that moment Shinji Ikari was reading his little black book. The translation was slightly odd, but the material was utterly genius. Though dark and self centered, the observations were well deduced and fed into the mind easily. Ayanami has left him a sort time ago to go to Nerv for something. Leaving Shinji to continue his reading of Machiavelli's work; rereading the section on avoiding hatred. Looking at the text again he read aloud the section that interested him the most.

"It makes him hated above all things, as I have said, to be rapacious, and to be a violator of the property and women of his subjects, from both of which he must abstain. And when neither their property nor honor is touched, the majority of men live content, and he has only to contend with the ambition of a few, whom he can curb with ease in many ways.

It makes him contemptible to be considered fickle, frivolous, effeminate, mean-spirited, irresolute, from all of which a prince should guard himself as from a rock; and he should Endeavour to show in his actions greatness, courage, gravity, and fortitude; and in his private dealings with his subjects let him show that his judgments are irrevocable, and maintain himself in such reputation that no one can hope either to deceive him or to get round him."

After reading the section he looked up at the sky, and let the ideas brew in his forethought: avoidance of hatred, breeding an image of resolute good, and making the public love you; all things that a prince needed. And yet here he was, a meek child abandoned by his father, crying in the streets of an abandoned city.

Shaking himself from those demeaning thoughts, he thought back to the incredible things he had done. Brought down moving mountains, climbed dangerous heights, fought with everything he had. But the real question was why, why had he done all this. Blurring images vibrated in his mind, yet he could not recall why he did any of this. No, he had to stay focused he was a pilot a supposed pinnacle of humanity, a defender of all that is true and good. He should be the image of a prince; elegant, courageous, honest, kind and every good quality. However; like Machiavelli he must have all the iron will to keep his position of power, to be suspicious of almost everyone. Trust few, and strike with the unforgiving cruelty of a tsunami. For the greater good, he would have to be cruel to a subtle few, who were cruel in the first place. Sitting up from the park bench near the escalator Shinji finally took his surroundings into consideration. Seeing students line the railings leading up to school, he became cautious. Alarms in his head sounded as he changed the pitch of his view. Walking towards him was a freckled young man with blond hair, and another more athletic figure wearing the infamous sweat suit.

For some reason the sound of cicadas was in his ears, and the feeling of a cold, wet grass floor grazed his back as he looked at the blonde one. Shifting his view to the black haired one a racking pain flushed threw Shinji's head. Violent images too blurred to figure out. Trying to deal with the pain, Shinji halted for a few seconds. After his physical stutter, he opened his eyes to see a flying fist.

All it took was a simple relaxation of the leg muscles and a slight curve in the arch of the lower back. Such a blow carried no real threat to one who had avoided fists the size of boulders, or a weapon the length of a tree thrown at him. The fist passed over his right shoulder, the jock was mildly surprised. But rage clouded his judgment, and when a real fight breaks out with an understandable motive for the assailant's anger. Missing a blow would not make him halt his assault. Rearing back his other fist he aimed at his stomach. Still, a simple turn of the heel under a cool head avoided the flailing arm. Rage filled his eyes as he saw the first surgery, the cutting and the blood. Coming from such a small girl who didn't deserve such pain: agony ridden across her face as she laid in her bed. Swing after swing was fueled by rage and a hate for injustice. One was a trait that was abhor behavior. However; the other was both valiant and honorable. Mixed they appeared as an action that was unreadable to most. But as rage causing visions filled the jocks mind. Shinji was going through a different thought process.

On one hand, he should end this assailant with cruelty and stop him from ever attacking him again. An option that Machiavelli had added to his repertoire of social actions; however he should avoid hatred. Both by the assailant and by the others around him, suddenly another quote jumped from the pages hidden in his mind. A good prince had many benefits.

"That prince is highly esteemed who conveys this impression of himself, and he who is highly esteemed is not easily conspired against." As the thought skimmed his mind, he came to the best conclusion he could make. Pushing his right leg back and his left forward he made his move.

Touji was knocked out of his reverie as his fist was caught by the new kid. Said person had there left leg bend at the knee and pushed forward and his right leg fully extended backwards on the ground. Stopping the force from the punch and transferring the energy to the ground, the complicated transfer of energy from a fist of one person to the hand of another, then down to the ground in mere milliseconds.

He had to give a good impression, the first thing he said to an audience would shape how they would support or destroy him. No matter how fickle the setting was, in school or in the world he had to form an image that people could depend on. No more hiding in the corner waiting for someone to pick him up. He would pick himself up and carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if he had to. But, why was this attitude there in the first place. Shinji Ikari did not know why he had changed but he had. And he had changed for the better.

Swiftly and befuddling the jock even more. Shinji Ikari turned the captured punch in his right hand into a handshake in a single second. Opening the stunned hand of his attacker and then shaking it openly.

"Hello my name is Shinji Ikari." Touji was astonished as the words left the young Ikari's mouth, so stunned that his anger vanished not into embarrassment but utter confusion.

"Hi I'm Touji Suzahara." Finally gaining some of his brain functions back he shook the hand as if the previous 25 seconds never happened.

"Well Suzahara-san it was nice to meet you. Have a nice day." Turning around he started walking. And before Touji realized what had happened: or be informed by his four eyed friend, the bell for school had rang.


Secure Telecommunications Server

Seele 01 "What measures have been taken for the reassurance of the publics need for Nerv."

Seele 06 "I have allowed several television networks the ability to newscast the next angel intervention."

Seele 08 "Will there be any editing of any kind of this live footage?"

Seele 11 "Yes, several reporters and crew people will die in the filming of their reports."

Seele 02 "Thus the need for Nerv will be reinforced. Who can defeat such a monstrosity that would cause such carnage on live television?"

Seele 03 "Nerv, and thus such cruelty will reinforce the need for protection."

Seele 01 "Agreed, but will this endanger Instrumentality at all."

Seele 13 "Repercussions for such actions are not evident in the Scrolls."

Seele 04 "Yes instrumentality will not change no matter the mindset of each individual."

Seele 02 "You mean that no matter what any other human things as long as the goals are achieved instrumentality will still commence."

Seele 01 "If so then this meeting is ended. And I believe that Shamsel will be arriving shortly."

As every light turned off the blaring of Angel alarms started at Nerv.


Several jobs in Nerv are over looked and flipped through; important jobs that are not high paying but are needed for not only the structural integrity of Nerv itself but the Evangelions as well. One such job is field engineer manager, aka managing of field equipment both inside Nerv and outside on the battle field. Not directly in contact with the pilots this manager has to reroute supplies to designated catapults and make sure that nothing screws up or that the Evangelion doesn't get what it needs. Sending payloads and salvos of ammo and electricity across the city, and getting items from the stockpile of highly explosive materials in the storage pit quickly onto catapults to be launched at speeds fast enough to escape the stratosphere. It was a job that was only slightly less dangerous then a field engineers who had the mindless jobs, but tough enough to be exclusive to an earned few. The field manager present at the time was not only feeling of the drudge of every day work, but also some racial related issues.

Douglas Holiday age 38, the only African American or anyone with African heritage in all of Nerv for all he knew, was the field engineer manager. Probably not the only one in all of Japan, but he never saw another person with his color of skin in the hallways or even in the cage or pit. Sometimes he felt alone, despite what many people think there was still much racial discrimination around the world. At the onslaught of 2nd impact, several powerful countries were crippled and racial, religious, and various animosities were unleashed across the world. Not only was the natural tragedy horrible, but the war that mankind made on itself was as well. To this day there were still many warring conflicts across the world, between states, factions, nations and countries. And the casualties and death rates were still rising. Though no official census had been taken since the tragedy in the year 2000.

And despite the nice atmosphere of an organization trying to save humanity, people were kindly unkind. Standing at his 6'6 stature and his very heavy build, many people would wave at him or say hi. But other then occupational greetings he was mainly avoided. Not only because of his intimidating body, but also that he was probably the only African American or any kind of African that these Japanese people had seen. And like many humans, people avoid what they deem unknown or anything that is out of their routine.

Despite his previous services in the American government and his pursuit of other achievements. He was in truth waning in his vigil for humanity. But as he played with his own self loathing, he heard the alarms blaring into his ears. And he went into action, one of several untold heroes in the fight against humanities attackers.


He was already at Nerv when the alarms went off. He was unprepared in all the things he thought off. No sword, mask, or cloaks. Nothing he needed was at his disposal. That doesn't mean he wasn't unprepared in everything. Already floating in the LCL inside his Evangelion he was shifted to a catapult, going to face the Angel in something that caused great pain inside him.
Well Douglas Holiday is from the other cross over and it'll be more obvious in the future. And if you don't know or haven't played the game he is from well I'll explain it later. But plz drop a review. Tell me what you think. If you dislike my writing style or if you hate my guts, I'll take critics in stride. Well I hope……..