Tokyo-2, Outer District 6
January 6, 2042
0714 hours

"Right, I'll tell them." – Shepard put down the phone before he walked back to the kitchen. – "Good news, kids. School's canceled for this week."

Asuka looked up from her breakfast with surprise. – "Why?"

The man thumbed at the general direction of 'outside'. – "Snow. Not everyone can get their parents to take them to school in a car, so they figured it's better if everyone stays home until the weather improves."

"They cancel school for that?"

"Yep. Never would've thought they'd do this outside typhoon season, but apparently they do."

"Awesome." – the girl enthused with the honest smirk of a teenager who just got told she didn't have to go to school.

"They did it where I used to live too." – Kaworu added. – "Cancel school when the winter got hard, I mean."

Shephard turned to him. – "Wasn't it next to the Alps, though?"

"It was."

"That's different. Heavy snow next to a big mountain range is one thing, but on an island? Back in my day, I've never seen this much snow outside skiing grounds."

"You can ski?"

"Dunno." – the man replied with a shrug. – "It's been a long time and the colonies aren't exactly teeming with snow either. Well, except for Eidothea but I was never posted there. Good thing, too."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to get my ass frozen off. I hear Siberian winters can hit three digits in the negative now, but Eidothea's colder than that. It's apparently so cold that all the gaseous crap you can find in petrol and such-"

"Like methane." – Asuka supplied.

"– thank you – just liquefy and pool together into rivers and seas." – He chuckled. – "Fifty years ago, the oil companies would've jizzed themselves for a chance to tap the place... right before their balls would've fallen off like icicles."

Asuka sighed. – "And you were waiting to use that line for how long, exactly?"

"Longer than they lived, that's for sure."

Kaworu shifted uneasily in his chair. – "That's... kinda harsh. I mean... you know... speak ill of the dead and all that."

"Look, kid..." – Shephard crossed his hands with a heavy sigh that held no annoyance, only resignation of the kind the teen didn't think he ever heard from an adult. – "Dead people are dead people. I can't do a thing about it. If I could, I would, but I can't. Way I look at it, we owe it to them to live our life to the fullest and have fun. Not just our share, theirs too. Because if we don't, what's the point of the rest of us having survived? Besides... I don't think they'd want us to be all doom and gloom 'woe us and ours forevermore'. I'm not saying that we shouldn't mourn them; I'm saying we should keep our heads high to show the fuckers responsible that they can butcher us, but they ain't gonna break us. Not now, not ever."

"Translation: kicking said fuckers' asses and having fun doing it aren't mutually exclusive." – Asuka added.

"That too. Anyway..." – Shephard pushed back his chair. – "I think I should get going. You kids are gonna be OK?"

Asuka moved to get up as well. – "I'm going back to bed, for one." – She shot Kaworu a look. – "Which, by the way, is not an open invitation." – With that, she walked out of the kitchen.

"I can find my own bed just fine, thank you." – the boy called after her.

"Just so you won't forget."

Kaworu just sighed and glanced at Shephard. – "You'd think she would've gotten the message that I got the message by now."

"That's Asuka for ya."

"What's that supposed to mean?" – came the girl's voice from the living room's direction.

"It means I don't envy whoever's gonna marry you down the line."

"What makes you think I ever gonna marry?"

"It's that kids say all kinds of shit they end up not doing. So... yeah."


Half an hour later, Kaworu paused rereading his math textbook on his bed to let his mind wander.

It's been said that the start of a new year is a good time for reflection. Of what the past brought, of decisions made, of hindsight on both. For him, the last year brought nothing but change upon change. To say that he didn't expect half of it just a year ago (or half a year ago, even) would be a major understatement; being conscripted to fight against house-sized aliens was one thing, finding out that he's some kind of psychic and has a similarly empowered twin sister (judging from the fact that they had the same birthday) was another.

To be fair, it's not as if he brought it upon himself. For the most part, all he could do was just whip his head back and forth at development after development; just drifting with the flow, so to speak. What else could he do? He wasn't in control of events; drifting with the flow was all he could do.

"It's your own fault for letting everyone tug you around."

Kaworu's head perked up at Tabris' snort. – "What do you mean?"

"Everyone's just pulling your strings and you're going along with it. I don't know if you're stupid, imperceptive or just unmotivated."

"You think they have ulterior motives?"

Kaworu had a feeling that if he could see Tabris, he would've seen the Angel roll its eyes just now. – "Who doesn't? Like that girl who claims she's your sister. You took that practically at face value. Did it not occur to you that she might be lying?"

"For what?" – the teen retorted. – "I'm not rich, powerful, influential or anyone else worth manipulating; I'm nobody."

"Correction: WAS a nobody. Then you joined up and she suddenly and conveniently remembers that she had a brother."

"Well, she did have that old photo."

"And? It could be forged."

Kaworu rolled his eyes at that. – "Which would go awfully far to get me to behave. If you have a point, say it."

"I'm just warning you to watch your back. Like it or not, you're in a position where you can make things happen. Just because you and your comrade destroyed one Ramiel does not mean the Others will give up."

"Why are they coming here, anyway? What is it here that we want? I mean, you guys can live in space just fine, right? No air or anything?"

"Yes."

"Then why? You don't need our planet, you don't need our stuff. There are eight planets in this system alone, plus a bunch of other planets in other systems. Why go to the one where they get shot at? And why keep coming back?" – Kaworu stretched his legs as he mulled over the matter, before an unpleasant memory popped into his mind. – "Is it that spear you want?"

"We'd never be able to even touch it." – Tabris replied dismissively.

"Why?"

"Because only Lilim can. I'm honestly surprised it let you use it despite my presence; I fully expected it to obliterate our very souls. From the very beginning of our service to the Eternal, we Angels are told that Sealing Weapons are impossible to handle by those who do not belong in the world of their master. I don't know if this one failed to detect me over the Evangelion or just ignored me because of my current state... whatever the case, I don't know how your kind got your hands on this particular one, but I am relieved beyond words it did not consider me a target to be eliminated."

"How powerful is it, exactly?" – Not that he remembered any of it, but Kaworu had seen the camera footage. That was enough for him to believe Tabris; getting stabbed by a knife the size of a building was one thing, being utterly obliterated by a blast on the level of a nuclear weapon was a whole another. Especially since there was nothing he had seen on the pictures that indicated machinery of any kind. Nothing but a completely smooth surface with an almost metallic quality, as if it couldn't just suddenly liquefy and change shape into something else before, in Shephard's words, 'going Death Star' (not that Kaworu didn't know that particular reference; some classics never ceased being classics, no matter how much time went by).

"I don't know. The only Sealing Weapon I have ever seen is the Eternal's, and even that I have never seen with its power unleashed. All I know is that the quickening of life from nothingness and returning that life into nothingness are equally within its grasp."

҉͇̠͈̝̯̼̫̟͍͕̬̼̻̲ͫ̅͑̿̍ͪ̚

̣̬̙̦͙̜̤̲͆̂͑̍ͧͯ̿ͧ̐̋́̇͐́̚͟͠͏̨̞̫̥͓̣

B̶̴̨̰̮͇̭͔̥̣͍̿̉́̔̔̓̑̽ͥ͛̀̋̔ͤ͐̅͑ͫ̚͝R̢̧͎̬̮̬̮̖̙̝̥͖̳̊ͨͦ̏̾́̄͗́̚͡E̡̱̰̲̰̺̗͔͈̩̲̳̙̗͒̌ͧ̉ͧͦͫͮͬͭ͒̊̋̇͘ͅĄ̸̻̲͖̯̟̭̝̰̪̩͙̟̳̰̠͙̋̃͆͒̍ͦͦͥͥ͊̋ͯ̌̋̃̏͗̋̚K̸̵̛̮͎̻͕͉͎̫͖̥͉̯͕͚̟̻̇̒͌̀̄ͧ͒́̓̾ͣͮ͒ͩ̽̏̑̒͢͡ ̛̤̼͎͕̟͓̯͕͈͓̝̰̪͍͖̩̺̌̒̑̊̂̕͞C̵̯͔̗̪͓̰̗̲̫̜̦̗̳͍̺̱̞̯͋͂̒ͪ̓͘͡͞͝O̶̟̬̹̫̜̩̠̬̬͇͎̖̼ͪ́̈̃ͤ͒̿ͪ͗̏̓ͧ̃͗ͨͣ̒͌̿́͜͡ͅD̎̎ͪ̇͆͌́ͤ̉̏͐҉̸̛̣̫̰̭̬͕̬͖̭̬̝̬̲̰͕̞͘͞ͅE̸͈̟͔̤͑̏̏̂ͬ̑̃̔͒͂́́̚ ̶̧͕̜͈̙͇̯͍͎̖͉̱͖̃́͌̊ͪ́̚͝͝A̱̥̳̭̳͉̫̠̪͔̫͇̤̞̹͖ͥ̓̊ͣͪ̾̀͜ͅT̫̬͇̫̹̺̮͒̔̃̑̈͢͡ ̷̴͈̙̙͕̯̺̠̩͕͊ͮ̌̍ͥ̋̍̒ͥ̔̿̏̔̈́̂ͧͨ́̚͘͢0͍̭̼̼̣͇̠̝̻̗̪͖̭̪͍͑͊͑̎ͬ̿̄̂̾̂ͫ̔̆͐ͣ͞͡xͪ̍̂͒̌̚҉̵̢̜̦͍̻̲̯͍͕̱̪̣̣͇̩̘̩̰̀9̨̉ͦ̾̍ͮ̽ͦ̉͋ͤ̎̐͗ͩ҉̸̰̝̟̤͙͍̲̬͎̝̱́̕4̶̵̺̙̦̜̦̳͗̐ͧ̅̆ͨ̀̆͌̌ͮ͘͝͝ͅ4̑ͩͭ͒ͨͦ͆ͣͥ̀̔ͩ̃ͩ͌͑̓̓͢͏͚̥͇̮͈̯̫̬̪̱̫͇͡ͅ0̴̷̨̡̺̜͈͎͓̟̖̺͎̰̼̙͇̗͎̻̔̑̽̃̄͊̎̏̆̐̈ͤ̈ͫ͗͊̄ͮ̚̕ͅ3̾ͨͩ̂̽̋͏̴̡̛̭̪̬̹͙̗̟̼͓͖̘̭̻̙̬͞ͅf͕͖̜̻͖̖̟̠̗̳̥͖̤̩̖̲ͥͣͧ̀̒̽ͤ̾̈ͭ̽̚̚͠f̨̈́̄ͮͭ̂͏̢̳̰̱͎͇̟͇̪̲͟7̟̖̙̘̫̤͔̙͍̙̻̰͖̰̪ͯͮ̂̒̑̅̆ͫ̐͊̔͛͋͘ͅͅ6̶̻͇̩̳͓̻̠̼̫͇͔̩̞͉̜̹̈́́̽̓͗͐ͥͫ̍ͧ̆́́͟ͅb̶̴̨̨̺̣̙̩̓̍͗̉̎ͧ̾̅͊̀̕f̡̹̠̖̯͇̮͚̱̻̈ͥ̅̓͊ͧ̽ͩ̒ͨͥ͗͞f͗ͨ̽ͬͤ͒̽̂̑̍̽̅ͤ̊ͪ̑̾͢͞҉̜̳̩̱5̗̪͖͎̜̥̪̜̞ͩ̏͒͐ͮ͑́ͤͤ̎͌͒̾͋̒͟͠1̶̨̖͇͈͕̠̫̒ͣ̊̔͆ͣͪ̆̍ͧ̿ͮͧ̂̈̐̉͐ͅa̡̞̠̯̯͉͉̾̆̃͑͒͐̐ͥ̾̂ͤ̇ḑ̵̡͓̫̠͚̜̯̱̥͍̟̍̏͊̃̾ͤ̇̎ͪ͋͊́̚7̵̥̳̱͓̻̳̻̠̘̥̫̖̜͖̭ͤ̎ͨ̽͋̆̌ͮ̎͒ͨ̎̃͆͋̿̚͝8̵̛̼͙͉͚̳͇͖͈̜̹̻͔̱̄͊ͯ͒ͦ͗ͪ̚ͅb̸̡͕̜̺̺ͭ͛̓̌̔̌̾̊̇̾ͧ̾̈ͬ͒̚͟͠ͅ8̵̡̺̹̜̰̝̺̪̙̩͓̞̼͙͕͓͇͍̖̉̃̔ͩͤ̒̍̽ͫͅa̸̡̨͔̳̟̯̙̖̘̙̹̱̗̰͚̠̦͔̹̿̐̂̉̒ͥ̿ͪ̌ͅ0̶̙̖͎͍̭͇̊ͪ͑ͤ͢7̷̲̮̹̻̰̘̭̖̭̐̐͐̉̏̍̓ͣ̆ͦͧ̈̓ͯ̎͘͞ͅf̸̶̨͈͈̹̬̫͈͍̘͚̭̦͔̞̗̝̞̠̓ͣ̑̇ͬͮ̇͝4̡̢̼̲͓̩̱̳́ͮͥ͂̌ͫ̿̓ͦͭͥ͗͌̑͆͜͠1̷̨̨͉̖̱̘̘͓̻̥͎̻̄͂̆ͥ̎̆ͬͩͨ͐ͪ͟0̷̛̮̖̙̩̾́ͦ̓̑̎̈̑̒ͣͫ̚͜f̴̢̡̰̫͎̺̜̘̩̺̱̟̟̹̹̾ͭͣ͆̔̏ͬ̔ͦͧ̉̈ͧ͛͆͜ͅͅͅͅ9̢̛̻̺̼̼͎̤͔̏ͮͯͭ͂̏ͧ̒ͬͨ͠͝2͋̀ͮ̿̀̕҉̨͍̜̝̱͓̙̲3͔̙̠͖͖̦̫̦̰̤͂̒̄̔͆͐̔̂ͪ̊́͆̿̄ͣͭ̊̈́͝9̸̛̔́̊̽͏̻͈̦̘̲͈̰̪̱͓̼̝̳͎͎d̵̶̸̪͔͖̗̹̰̭͙̹̥̖̬̬̟͈͇̑͋ͭ̓̋̅̒̈͊̀̎̿̓͘͡ͅ2̛̙̣̪͈̍͊ͥͦ͒̃̿̓̽͆͆̚͠b̵̸̨͇̟͔̭̼̠̠̺͛ͤ̒͗͑͛ͥͬͬ̕ͅa͈̝̝̹̻̹̭̗̼̳̹͓͖ͮ̑ͦ̔ͭͨ̀́ͤ̄͊ͧ̔ͪͫ̏̑̽́͜͞2̵̣͖̻͚̞̮͔̂̑̔̄ͫ̉ͯ͑͑͂͂ͣͭ̔ͬͯ̾͊͢͝ͅͅ7̴̡̛̳̪͙̱̜̥̱̻̙̘ͮ̄̒̔̒ͨ̀͠͡9̸̑̎́̏̿́͏̯̳̠̠̻͕̟̲̬̞̬͖̦̣̬ͅ3̢̛̫͕̰͓̣̬̥͆ͥ͋͒ͧ͌ͩ̄͆̄̔͂ͮ̋ͤ̐̇̚͟a̴̶̠̭̪ͫ́̈́͛ͮ͌̚͟4̢̬͖̻̱̠͈̪̭͓̠̑͐̄͐ͬ͆̅ͩ̃͒̈͂ͬ̽̕ͅ4̶̷̫̣̞̯̤̝̏̂̆̾̎̐͌̊ͬ͗̃͗́̉̓͐ͧ͆ͅa̵̷̵̶̩͔̜͙̘̼͙͕̩̥͓̼̹͇ͪ̎̈́̑̇̏͡8̷͕͎͙̗̳̰̥̥̼͎̺̣̝̻̼̲̹̝̼̿ͥ̃ͣͥͬ̃̾͌͂ͤ̎̾̀̉͞a̢͉̜̰̫̠̼̘̻̟͉͔̫̳͇̬̓ͫͣͨ͗̄ͧ̅̓̉ͫ̕͝ͅ5̡̲̣̳̪̙͒͛ͤ̈́ͤ̔ͩ͗́0̵̧̝͎͍͙̮̳̎́͂̊̒̈́̑̉͊̇̇̍ͥ̿̀͜6̄̽̅ͧ̄́̑̄̊̆̉ͤ҉̜͎͓͎̩̀2̴̘̮̲͚̫̬̖͙̳͇̫̖̞̟͎̥̜̀̓̈͋̃ͧ̃̆̾ͪ̀͢4̷̡̰͎̗̰̩̺̯͙̞͔̗͇̻̲͇̝ͬ͑̎͂ͅȩ̵̗̲̫̜̝͎͈̣̺̙̤̩̟̥̍̔̆̊̓̅͘͢͞d̸̨̫͎͔̹͈̘̣͔͓̳̖̝̤̥͉̥ͮ̓ͫ̆̽͐̌͂͛ͮͦ́ͪ̒̓̌͑͟͡ȩ͎͖̝̣̖ͥ̀̒̒͋͛͐̌̋ͥ́̽ͧ̓ͥ̋͟͞f̓̎́͏̶̘̣̖̘̣͓̞͡5̴̨̞̻̱̩̤̬̯̋ͬͦ͊ͦ̌̄ͦͫ̑1̨̊ͮ̉ͨͦ̅ͤ͂̎͒͐͜͝͏̧͉͚̹̬̯̹̭̼̱̪͍̳̖͓̮̤ͅ7̨͙̮̰̫͈̗̞̺̙̳̺͎̰͍͎̹͖̌̿ͯ̒̏ͨ̏ͧ͗̿̇͐̈͊̄̽̋ͥ̀̚6̶͍̲͎̐̔̋ͣ̏ͩ̓̅̈̆͗̆̓̈́ͩͮ̒͠ḑ̷̡̲͖̣̠͖͉̞̲̱͈̱̻̩͙̜̆͛ͣ̇̆̓͂̇̕ͅb̴̛̯̹̹̱̮͉͔̪͙̹̱̏ͯ͋̏̾͌ͨ̂ͨ̀9̴̧͍̠͕̱̜̪̦̖͖̜̟̼̰̜̝͇͍̞̆͑ͯ̎̇̌͜7̛͍̣̯̻̜̙̥͖͎̪̹͉ͮ̄̿̆̐ͯ͟ͅ5̷͇̪̲͚̮̭̫͍̫̤͚̱̻͌̆ͮ̓̐̀ͅç̛͕͖͈̳̜̻̑́͗ͩ̽͑͋ͥ͐̀͘͢2̸̴̧͔̖̦̬̯͇̭̦͉͍̏͗ͬ̌͋̐̾͋̂͂̎̿͠ͅ8̱͖͚̺̘̠̠̤̞̰̮̮̖͌͊͒͐̄́̀̀͢ͅ6̂ͨ̓͗̓͗̊ͤ̋̇̀̎͊̚͘̕͜͝͏̤͓͙͉̼̝͚̤̟͔̖̲7̴̳͈͕̩̱̗͇̰̞̭͍̫̇ͮ̔ͬ̂̓͒ͯͦ̇̓̓̌ͧͥ̆̓̚͞ͅ0̨̨͙̭̘̼͔̙̰ͯ͌̾̎ͥͮͫ̊̚͘͢͢ͅ7̩̲̰̼͕͕̠̤̿ͬ͊̂ͥ̈ͤͨ͝a̸̭̩̻̗̘̤͔̼̳̼̲͓̞̍̆ͤ͗ͥͪ͂͘̕͢b̴̯̟̰̭͉̺̋ͥ̒̐̾ͫ̓́f͛ͩ̓ͨ̎̈͋̃ͦ͏̥̱̯̪̗̙̳̺̰̀ͅf͛͐ͣ͐̀̌̈́͛̈ͯ̿̈̔͒̔ͧ̋͏̵͡͏͓̩̳̜d͉̹͍̥̻̼̗͓̲͓̺̝̙̺̺̜ͩ̅͆̃̆ͨ͂͌̓͢͠ͅ5̢̢͚͍͉̲̟̭̗̞̟̤̲̞̒͛ͥ̀̒̿ͧ̆ͯ̋͡ͅ3̴̜͔̟͔͇̤͍̱͙̬͍̣͙͙̐͊ͫͮͫ͒̋ͣ̏̚͘͜͜͝6̧̛̟̲̘͎͎̝͙͂̈́̎͑̋ͧ́̈ͭ̉ͬ̾ͩ̚͠7̉̀͌́͑ͥͥͣͪ̿͊͂͒̀͏̨̨̖̟͚͇̜̤3̡̙̯͚̣͉͙͈̣̝͓̯̠̦́ͥ͑͂͒ͯͯ̆̑̅̃͢͡5̡̢͈͇̫̦͓̮͎̳͖̤̙̹͔̣̉͒ͦ́̄͆̄͒ͤ̀̄͆̆̌̐͋̕̕͞ͅb̴͙̖̗̝̙̱̟̘͓͖̠ͬͩͮ͑ͬ̏ͭ̉̇̈́̄ͭ̃̊͗̒ͣ̉̚e̢̢̟̣̗͇̯̰̻̹ͫ̓ͦ̓͒͜ͅ
̧̢̺̮̳̹͍̮̳̟͇͇͚̖̖̫ͩͭ̈ͬ͐̈ͨ͒ͧ͒̐ͩ̍͂ͨ̓̚͝I̷̺͔̩͓̙̖̠̞͚̰̮̪̹ͣ̿̿̓͟͠N̨͒ͩ̾ͥͨͫͤ̄ͦͪ̓ͯ̊̑̎̋͏̵̠͇̳̣̜̟̩T̨̧̖͕͍̳͕̒ͦͪ̌̍͌ͪ̐̄̑̑̉ͤ͒ͨ͛̀̚͜ͅE̳͖̠̠̥̙̖̤͚̣͂ͮͪ́̐ͩ̂̅̑̓ͣ̓̎ͣ̈́͛ͬ̾͢͠R̘̮͉̱̟̘͙̔̔͐̅ͬ͗̋̐̀̍͌̕͡͝N͗͆͛ͮͦ̌͊͂ͮ͆̓̔̾ͩ̿͊͏̛̜̜̝̼̗̟̻̺̘̱̬̘̰̮̮̙̦̪̞̀A̸̡̹̦͍͙̳̖̞̘͎͙̘͛̊̃̇ͬͣͭͬ͋̈͐̇̌̐͢L̄̍̍ͬ̽ͤ̓ͪͪ͐̆ͫ̉ͬͫ̑́ͯ͜҉̦̩̭̻̟̖̠̱̠̩̭̙ͅ ͖͔̟̖̥̬͎̮͕͉̫̼̳̪ͤ̔͒͑̍ͫͦ̈́̈ͯ̾́̀̚̚L̴̴̤͇͈̮̲̜̺͚̹͉͙̠͈͙͍̿͌̄̑̎̓̒ͭ̈́͆̉̑̒̄̏̃̈́͘͠O̵̻͇̪̘̩̣͖̘̗̲͕̯̎͗ͩ̈ͭͧ̄́͘͜G͖̣͈͖̠̜̎̓ͧͣ̔͂̾́͘͢I̷̙͕͙̺̫̝̻̣̝̹̥̱̙͂ͨ̍̋͐̿̒͐́͟͞C̸̡̺̫̲̼͙̱̳̖̝̟ͩ͊́̏ͧͣͯ̊͗̊ͤ̈́̈͒̈ͥͬ̄̚ ̉ͫͤ̑͊ͬ̌ͧ҉͖̭̰̱̻̘͙̼͔͚̮̫͜Ę̴̢̠̟̬̘̠ͬ̂̒̊ͥ͗̆̃̊̽͒̎͟͢Rͩ̎̌̾͛̓̏ͧ̏ͪ̋ͥ̀̿̀͞҉̢҉̗̳̣͓͈̮̘̠̲͚̖͔͎̯ͅR̢͖̞̹̱̣͈͍̳̎͐̈ͫͫ̂̽͑͛͌̍̈́Ǫ̡̛̹̜̥̭̣̣̳̗̣̘͈̼͇̌̔ͤ͂̃̾͋ͧ̊̄̇̾̈͡ͅŖ͔̘̟̺͖͈̤̠̝̖̄͑̇̽̿̑̚͢͜͡͝ ̡̮̦̙̭̹̙̰̣͉̥͈̮͉̩ͬ̒ͭ̽̅̊̒́͟͜͠D̵̤̞̦̮̯̙̘̪̫͙̟̤̳̩̂ͮ̄ͬ̄̎́͛̈̄͗͊̈́̍͛̅́͡E̶̶̵̥̘̳̤̩͖͔̓͒ͭ̽ͬ͗͋ͬT̷̨̡̼̦͈̩̯ͮͣ̍̿͆̓ͫ̂̑͊̐ͦ̕͡Ȇ̴͑̒̓̌͂͗̐͏҉̰̙̤̺̙̬͕̱̠̝̩̟̺̞̮C̛̛̤̳͓̼̯̒ͤ̏͒̌ͧ̑̆̕͡ͅT̷̢̡͕̟̪͉̳̜̗̤͖̱̞͚̏ͦͩͭ̊́̍́̈̀Ë̸̢͕͇͕̤̥̘̮̦̹̲̼́̌̐͛̊̇̆̆̽̄ͫ̀ͭ̾̆͢D̸̡ͭͧ̔͌̈́ͫ̎͑̉̈́̈́ͭ͞͏̭͍͔̩̳̠͔̠̯̥̟͔͔̗͈͖
̶̢̬̯̪̫̱͔̹̾̏ͮ̒́͝ͅS̸̴̝̼̲͙̮̉͌̑̌̂͒̒͐̓ͬ̀̚͞ͅǪ͔͔̻̩͚̩̯̭̠͚̲̙̣̙ͤ̒͐̎ͥ͋ͬ̏̊͆̉ͪͪ͋̍̕͜͟Ų̵̵̬͖̟̣̗̝̼̭̳͓͓̟̀͊̆̾̉͌ͮ̊͋͠R̸͙̙͚͙̥̅̄͒̀̀̃͐ͬ̀̋̃ͥ̓͑͋̒ͫ͑̚C̢͉̙͎̘͕̙͖͖̬̹̮̭͖̣̰̘̘̱̊͋̋ͨ͜Ę̦̲͔̯̮̖̜̩͚̼̠̻͚͈̮͈͙͎ͭ͛̈́ͦ̋͑̂̉̈́͑̇̚͘͝:̜̭̹̦̠̫̥̬̦̘͎͔̰̯͚̭͓͆̎́͋͜͠͞ͅ ̴̹͇͖̓͆ͧ̂̉͑̆ͫ̈͛̍̀̕ͅṰ̵̶̷̨̺͙͔̜͔̠̺̟̘͇̜̘͙͚̝̹̗͙ͮ̄͑̈́ͮͬ̾ͬ̀ͫ́̀͠Ê̡̗̯̖̙͔̫̳̩̰̲̱̼͇̘̙̯̜͇͈͂̋̋͂̾̉̃̅̄̋̎͐̈͗̈́̆ͯ́̕M̨̗̥̱͔͇̐̑͌̌͑̾ͥ̾ͬͪ̎ͣ͑ͪ̀P̑ͨ̽ͮ̓͏̯̣̞̠O̷̜͖͍͉͈͖̜̩̫̖̺̝̹̪̫͐͊ͤ̆̋̓̓͋ͫͪ̎ͭ̀ͥ́͝͠R̵̷̹͇̪͓̲͕̼̻̯̣̈̓ͫͮ̎̌̒̓̏ͭͧ̆́͆̐̐̚̚̕͢Ä́͌̋͊͌ͤ͑̂ͤ͐̒͊̇͐ͧ̚̚͏̸̨͉͕̖̻̀L̶̪̠̬͔̯̲͔̪̻͎͕̭̼̪̣͓͍̠̦͊̔ͩ̄ͦ̌̑ͣ̈̆͛ͩ̉̎̔̄̊͌́͘͝ ̷̷̗̦̜̝̱̞͉̭̖͇͖͈̼̔ͥ͒͡F̸͓̝͔̥̬͓̜͍̦̠̀̏ͦ̿ͨ͛̏̋̃ͯ͌̏͗̓̌ͦ̔́̕͘͠ͅA͊ͪͩͮ̔̄̔̚͟͏̮̲̭̻́U͂ͥ͂̓̒̇̚͏̩̜̝̹̪͕̲͎͍̙̦̺͉L̷̡̥͖͙͓͇͐̈͌̎̈́̓̏ͤ̂͌̑̀T̢̩̺͕͇̰̊̈͋ͯ̓̂͌́̎̏̒̄̅̿̓̀̚͘ͅ
̶̹̤͇̩ͦ̅̐ͫ̂ͦ̇̉́̃̈́̾͜͟͡͝S̀́̾̄ͯͦ̒̾͒̋ͭͭ̇͆ͥ͗҉̵̴͈̼͚̦̘͍̫̼̹̣̩̙̹̲̲E̶̸̡̺͙̪͈̬̹̫̭͖͙̗̯̥͕̳̲̔̅̓̑̄ͧͨ̉͆̕͝V̴̷̨̡̯̬̥̱̭͙̥̞̠̤̗̲̖̝̖͉̺ͨͭ̉̀ͬ̿͊̉̋̀ͩ̍̇̅͂͛̀̚E̢̳̗͎͕̳̜̱̼̞̰̔ͣ̇͒ͬ͒̍͊̑͋͛͑ͮͭ̾̿̕͠R̶̨̳̘͚͙̮͔̲̙͖̝͌͗͛ͧͦ͆ͣͪ̑́̓̓͋͛̏̾̚͘͞I̵ͯ̃͑͌͜҉̴͏̲̦̹̻͓̪Ṯ̢̧̙͍̞̻͋̆ͤ͑͗ͨͪ̃͆̆ͨ̅ͦ͌̐͌̌Yͬ̇̈ͪ҉͝҉͎̜̭̦̰͈͙͕͎͕:̶̧̡͇̯̟̩̼̱̯͔͚̳̣̯͎̿̀̾͊͌̓͘͢ͅ ͣ̄ͯ̃͏͕̠̥̙̜̫̱̬̝͡N̈ͫ͑̎̂ͥ̓̋̌͊ͫ̀͏̢̡̱͎̲̯̝̲̫̬̥͉͚͇̞Ö͇͈̮̮͖̫̼̯̞͔͈̜̤́ͫ̏́̀͘͘͢ͅṊ͓͔̫̟͖͓̰͔̤͓͈͈͎̠͔͑̊̓̄ͪͩ̊̍͌̿͆̅̉͋͆̈͡͝͝ͅͅ-ͮͩ̄͗ͧ͂ͮ̊ͣ̇̀͑ͧ͗̚҉̱̮͍̹̹̗̗ͅC͚̜̖̼̗͕̩̗̬̮̜̫̲͉̳͙̘̤̽͒́͆̓̓̀̈́͒́͜͢R̵̨̛̳̦͈͕̼̯̦̥̟̯̦̱̫͕ͯ̓̈̃͟ͅI̸̶̶̯̼͔̦͙̟̰̼̭̒͊ͯ̓̽ͣͥͯͦ́͘ͅT̸̶̶̫̖̼̟̐̃̅̐̓ͪ̈́̀̎̾ͨ̃ͣ̀I̡̋̓̂̃ͪͣ̄͌ͦ̋ͬ͆̾ͭ҉̶͏͙̫̣̗̗͕̖͎̱̖̪̭͇̭C̜̗̙̠̠͍̝̝̰͖̜͑̌̌̔͌̈̂̆ͭͧͯ͂͛ͩͤ̀͘͢͡A̡͚̯̜͇̰̱͍̘͇̓̔ͩ́̈ͣ̅̐̌̏͌̋͑̈́ͥ́̊͡ͅͅL̶̡̿͒̈́ͭ͛̈͜͏̱̜̱̟̣͖̻͚̞͈͈̰͍͚̭͞
̵̶̨̩̙̥̭ͤ͆̓̈́͆́R̴̛̛͑̄̃̇ͤ̂̈̓͏͓̙̣̖E̵̡͓̺͖̱͖ͭ͂̂́̄̅Ş̵͇̬̥̻̠̮̫͕̭̟̗̣̭̦͈͖̳̐̊̾̊ͤͯ͑ͧͤͬ̍̇́Ư̶̈́̌ͭ̐ͨ͛̔̌̓̎ͣͥ͗̃ͪ̃͋̒ͭ̕͟҉͚̫̦̘͓̦̱̖̗̱̰̰̫̦̬̟ͅͅM̩͍͖̰̯͍͍̙̈̐̓͑̂̕Iͭ̽̎̄̓̂̎̿̌̕͜҉͚͓̗̙̬̼̲̖N̴̡̖̮̖͈̱̲̺̠̪͓̩̼͔͉̪͚͓͒̏̋͑ͫ̾̏͑̇̑́̀G̵̻͎̦̙̫͈͇̝̜̳̥̦̹̭̬͓̺ͨ̑͊̈̾͒̇̒̅̒̉̊͐ͤ̕͞ ̏̇ͭ͋͆̆̂ͫͧ̅̆̋ͧ̈́͟͠҉҉҉͇̘̯͚͖̙̥͈͎̪̲͓̫ͅͅO̷̢͔͓͔̹͙͓̦̺̝̮̞̒͌ͬ̌̾̾͗ͬ̒̒ͪ͘͜͠ͅP̧̥͙͖̟̦͉͖̤̠͍̰̮͎̥͍͉̜̋ͨͬ̔͐̉̃̈́̀ͦ̈́̔͌ͨ̀̚̚͘͡͝ͅË̷̡͕̖̣̗̺͍̱̞͉̖̟̪̠̗̦̪́̾̄̂͋͑̽ͩͮ̐̌̇̅ͭ͜͡Rͬ̔̓̒̀ͬͣ̓̇ͥ̉̐̎͋ͧ̓́͏̷̰̦̲̠̬̞͉̲͔͞Ả̵̷̷̪̺͖̳͕̳͕̺̥̻̬͖͚̥͍̺͔̩̎̄̄̏ͧͣ̃̑̅̾̇̄͟T͊͌̿ͫ̀̈̊̐ͦ̿̈ͭ͂̊͌̚͏̸͚̠̰̱̺̳̦̯͕͇̲͓̯̣̪I͎͔̫͓̲̙̜̘̣͎͈̼̟̜̖ͣͧ̇̂̋͒̀̀O͆͗ͬ̔҉̕͡҉̼̟̙̹̬̺N͍͎̱̗̳̝̞͉̩̗̦͕̗̈́̎̂ͫͬ̀̾ͤ͊ͯ̎͌͐̐̀͐͂̂͢͠.̅̌̾̔̿̓̄͛̏͌ͯ̾͏̶̙͖̝͈͍͍̗̭̮͙͖.̵̴̸͍̗̻͙̫̭͈̩̗͇̪̜̗͆̐̍ͯ̋̌͐̊ͨ̈̏̒̚͢.̶̶̡͕̙̬̫̦̙̩̭̖̞̙̹̲̙̬̦̦͌̉͗͑̊̅ͬͦ̌̌̍͟ͅ

"That sounds like the kind of power one would ascribe to a god."

"For once, I agree." – Tabris replied.

"And what did you mean by 'your current state'?"

"...if from nothing else, you likely figured out from that time I mentioned having been on this planet before that I wasn't always just a disembodied voice in someone's head. I used to be a form of existence just like any other Angel."

"What happened?"

"The Others happened. Let's just say that they know where their loyalties lie." – the Angel replied cryptically.

Two walls away, Asuka turned to her other side underneath the blanket.

Outside, snow continued to fall.

Kilometers beneath them, Yui sipped her coffee as technicians continued their work amidst the quietly humming terminals.

Far beyond the hills to the northeast of Tokyo-2, the birds that huddled together for warmth in the snow-covered cityscape of Tokyo scattered in every direction when a deafening bang echoed across the buildings from far above, accompanied by a pressure wave of displaced air that shattered what few windows were left in the vicinity.

All that is continued to be as it always had been and as it always will be... unaware of the endless river now flowing in a different riverbed.


"Huh...?"

"What is it?"

"Radar shows a bogey at angels nine over old Tokyo. No transponder."

"Where did it come from?"

"I've got no idea, it wasn't there ten seconds ago. Radar picked it up in the lower stratosphere, falling straight down at terminal velocity with no control. You think we ought to report this?"

"Nah, probably just trash ejected by a civilian ship or something. I mean, it's spinwise from Kyoto."

"I don't know. Trajectory doesn't look like a meteor and the gear didn't pick it up until it got this low. You think it's that thing they told us to watch out for?"

"Hold on..." – A pause. – "No gravimetric spike. Whatever it is, it's not what we're looking out for. Hell, judging from how close it was before we spotted it, it's probably some stealth shit the navy's testing out or something. Either way, it's not our problem and you can bet your ass this shift ain't gonna get interesting all of a sudden. Luck ain't that merciful."

"Yeah, you're right."


Tokyo, Shinjuku Special Ward
1143 hours

A brief respite in the snowfall was accompanied by a brief break in the cloud cover, allowing the midday sun to shine through and onto the irregularly-shaped mound lying in a sizable crater ringed by half-collapsed buildings.

White metal gleamed in the sunlight, nearly impossible to tell apart from the snow.

Then one side of the mound abruptly shifted, triggering a minor avalanche that created a sizable pile of snow beneath the metal cylinder which emerged from the mound. A hatch opened slowly at the base of the cylinder, fluid dripping down at the edge to create starkly contrasting orange spots on the snow below.

Then the figure of a hooded teen emerged from the opening, cautiously peeking around with a fearful expression. – "Janus, are you sure it's okay...?"

"Confirmed. Atmospheric composition is habitable."

"But... how? We're on a planet, aren't we?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Unknown. However, I am picking up significant communications traffic on USL military frequencies."

Alarm flashed across the girl's face before her breath was interrupted by another voice. – "Any alerts?" – She turned around to reveal another teenager, who leaned out of the hatch and squinted as the sharp winter wind ruffled his blonde hair.

"Are you alright?" – the girl asked, voice tinged with worry.

"I'm fine. Janus?"

"No alerts. I am not detecting outlying patrols either."

The boy glanced down at the fifteen meter drop below the hatch... then braced himself and leaped out, soaring through the cold air before landing with enough force to knock up a massive cloud of snow. Yet before the cloud even settled, he was walking out of it as if he hadn't just landed on his feet from a drop that would've broken an ordinary person's legs without a parachute or wading through knee-deep snow – and behind him, the girl landed with the same result, albeit pausing for a moment to individually shake both legs afterwards with a silently mouthed 'Ow.'

They looked around at the desolate cityscape in silence before the girl let out a frustrated sigh. – "I don't get it! Where are we?! This looks just like a winter cycle on the Shekinah, but no subsection is so... so..." – She gestured around them.

"Dead?"

"Yeah. And how did we get here, anyway?"

"I brought you here."

Both teens whirled around to see a small sphere with black and white tiger stripes pop into existence in the air.

"I need you to do something." – Leliel continued.

"Fuck off." – the boy snapped instantly.

"...that was quick. You're not really in a position to refuse, you know."

"Why not?"

"Well, reality would collapse in a cataclysmic causality breakdown, for one. But seeing as you're still here, I already know you're going to play ball, so you can quit pretending to refuse now." – The white lines across Leliel shifted and rearranged into an uncannily good impression of a smirk as she stared right into the boy's blood-red eyes. – "Paradoxes are nothing but convenient in that regard, wouldn't you agree...?"


Chapter completed on 18/02/12.

'Angels' is air force lingo for altitude, originally measured in thousands of feet; here, it means kilometers instead. According to The Bruneval Raid: Flashpoint of the Radar War, the term originated from the Battle of Britain, the first historical conflict that involved radar operators guiding fighter pilots on interception sorties via radio. Since radio is never quite as clear as live speech, even without atmospheric noise and geomagnetic storms caused by solar activity muddling the signal, brevity and clearly understandable language is key.

Ambiguous phrasing between crew and ground controller was the primary cause of the 1977 Tenerife disaster, where a civilian airliner's crew, already on edge from being delayed, were given instructions to follow after takeoff but interpreted it as permission to take off and acknowledged it as such, but the ground controller, not seeing the runway due to thick fog, interpreted it as acknowledgment of holding at the end of the runway waiting for permission to take off. Problem is, another airliner was taxiing on the same runway and using the same radio frequency, so they tried hollering at the other plane to wait with that takeoff because they're in the way - but broadcasting on the same frequency meant that the two planes basically jammed each other's radio, resulting in the first airliner not hearing the controller explicitly ordering them to wait for takeoff clearance AND neither the first airliner nor the ground controller hearing the second airliner's alert that they're still on the runway. 583 people died in the collision, including both aircrews.