11:00am, Saturday the 10th of June, European League, Neue Deustches Reich, Sanssouci palace.
Rudolf Von Hohenzollern was a busy man. Even though technically as Emperor of Germany he held no power, he was a man who liked to be involved in the decision making of his Reichstag. But today was Saturday, and that meant relaxing in his family's ancient seat, the palace of Sanssouci. Away from the clean but crowded streets of Berlin. Away from all the yelling and debates that occurred within parliament.
Out here, in the depths of the German countryside, was where the forty-five year old Kaiser could put his feet up.
His favourite past time in particular was walking around the grounds of his palace, letting the delightful smells of all the various flowers fill his nose. However it was during such a walk that one of his servants had run up to him with a red face, and sweat trickling down his forehead.
"Forgive me, your Majesty, I have told her that you're indisposed but...she will not listen." The servant's exhausted expression then became confused as his Kaiser quietly laughed.
"It is to be expected...let Countess Soryu know I'll receive her in my study."
"At once, your Majesty!"
Rudolf reluctantly but briskly walked back into the beautiful halls of his palace, having no time to take in the ornate windows, paintings, or marble.
Gott have mercy on my soul if she's there before me. His subconscious muttered, knowing full well what fury the girl who wished an audience with him could unleash at any given moment.
Fortunately however, upon reaching it, his office was empty save for the two Gardes du Corps troopers standing outside.
"Your Majesty!" They saluted.
Rudolf nodded at them, before they opened the doors to his workplace.
Having sat down at his desk, not being able to take in the lavish luxuries of his office, Rudolf quickly massaged his head and fiddled with his black beard, in preparation for what was coming.
Oh Asuka, you know today is the day I like to relax...
There was a muffled sound of saluting from beyond the closed doors, swiftly followed by a dark blue coated Guardsman slipping in.
"Countess Soryu requests an audience with you."
"It is granted." Rudolf gestured towards the door which would soon let in the destruction of any and all peace and quiet he'd been enjoying that day.
And so, inevitably, the doors opened. And in strolled the Second child.
At about five foot three inches, Hauptmann of the Luftwaffe, and Countess of the Reich, Asuka Zeppelin Soryu, was of average height for a girl who would be sixteen in six months, yet in a way she somehow towered over every resident of Sanssouci, including the stern military officers who paraded around in their helmets and moustaches.
As to be expected, she was wearing that yellow sun dress of which she was so fond, which completely clashed with the 19th century style clothing of the German aristocracy. A group to which she belonged.
She stopped some ten feet from his desk, and then in an uncharacteristic manner for all save him, gave a polite curtsey.
"Your Majesty."
The head of house Hohenzollern chuckled a little at a display of respect she showed only to him, his head resting upon his gloved hand.
"So...what can I do for you today, Asuka?"
Her young and searing sapphire eyes met his old brown ones, as she inhaled deeply.
"Your Majesty, I believe I have made it very clear my wish to be deployed to Japan at the earliest opportunity?"
"Indeed you have."
"Then why am I still here?" Her arms folded, a danger sign indeed.
"You know we are loading Unit 02 onto the Seydiltz as fast as we can, not to mention the High Seas fleet still needs to be prepared...just give us a little more time..." Rudolf squirmed in his seat as Asuka's voice rose.
"All the Seraphim will be dead by the time you dummkopfs are finished! So much for German efficiency! I can't just sit out here and do nothing whilst...what's his name? Shin...Shin..." She blinked as she tried to remember the name which had made her blood boil, whilst pointing a threatening finger at her Monarch.
"I believe his name is Shinji Ikari." Rudolf offered.
"That's the guy, stupid Shinji! I can't let him take all the glory for himself! Gott at this rate Unit 03's going to get there before me...Samuel would never let me hear the end of it...Britain would never let us hear the end of it!" She started pouting, as if to herself, whilst a man who was practically her Guardian couldn't help but chuckle.
"What's so funny?"
"You of course, as per usual." His smile only grew wider as Asuka looked like she wanted to scream, thought better of it, then folded her bare arms.
"I'll ask Chancellor Mack to send more men to Hamburg, to assist with loading. Now that there has been an actual Seraph attack there isn't really much excuse for you being here. Not to mention Larue and Laberenz will probably want you off as soon as possible." Rudolf noted how her expression lightened at the reinforcement of yes you are going.
"It's a shame Evas mess with A-T fields. Otherwise I could've flown down there in one night." She sighed before looking apologetic.
"Thank you. I know it's a Saturday and all but I just hate waiting." She brushed back a strand of her hair.
Asuka's red mane was ridiculously long in his eyes, going well past her shoulders, almost down to the small of her back. She'd always had it like that, since she was a little girl. Perhaps it was kept like that to give the impression of untameable. An image that wasn't entirely wrong.
But to be frank, Rudolf didn't care. What made her happy, made him happy. And as much as he hated the idea of sending her off to some far flung land to fight horrible creatures, he was all too aware of how much his charge loved piloting, and how much Unit 02 meant to her.
Good Gott that thing unsettles me...He inwardly shuddered a little at the thought of the black behemoth NERV kept telling him was a war machine, much to his doubt.
Machines didn't make noises like that...
"It's alright. A good Kaiser should always be available to address his subject's difficulties."
"Jah." Asuka absently mindedly said before curtsying again.
"Good day, your Majesty. I won't disturb you again." She smiled that sickly sweet smile of only if you do as you're told.
"You've never disturbed me, Asuka. And you know that." He gestured at the door, with the red head nodding and walking out.
He stood there for a while, feeling his heart seize up. A promise he had never been able to fulfill kept going through his mind, as an image of a gravestone and a weeping child took over his memory.
I swear...I'll make her happy, I swear, Kyoko...
10:00pm, Great British Empire, Buenos Aires.
His titanium encased foot crashed down on another armoured vehicle, metal and flesh being crushed in equal measure.
Major Samuel Meadow of the Imperial Britannic Army, grinned a fearsome grin. As a feeble artillery bombardment rained down upon him, he watched some two thousand fighters of the Argentinian Resistance Front scatter like rabbits. A quick flick of Unit 03's wrist and the flaring of his A-T field, caused hundreds of those men to be reduced to a crimson mist.
Great Britain's inexorable advance into South America had been one of the quickest conquests in history. The fractured and ruined remnants of the pre-Impact governments, or the tin pot Dictators and War Lords, had had been utterly powerless to stem the Empire's advance. In fact it was the revolts that gave them the most trouble, the ones in Argentina being the most difficult to stamp down due to the patriotic nature of its people, with even the half a decade past unrest in the reclaimed thirteen colonies paling in comparison.
How ironic, Samuel mused, less than forty years ago these people had tried to invade Warspite harbour, back when that set of islands had been called the Falklands.
Now it seemed the tables had turned.
One of the fleeing rebels had turned around and was now firing point blank at him, bullets crumpling against a wall of flickering orange light.
A navy blue armoured foot turned him into a bloody stain.
Why must you resist!? Why bring all this unnecessary destruction upon yourself!? You cannot win, you could never win! Samuel grimaced as he felt a heavy calibre shell clang off the back of Unit 03's great helm, causing a slight ringing sensation in his head.
Bloody hell Samuel, stay focused! Keep that A-T field up!
Unit 03 continued its march through the city, as tens of thousands of people scattered before the Imperial god machine. However, one should note the navy blue monster tread with great care around those unarmed.
To the people of Argentina, the Eva was the most terrifying thing their culture had ever witnessed. They'd thought they'd seen the full might of the Empire, and whilst one should tremble before it, the Imperial war machine could be opposed.
But this?
This was a demon sent from Hell itself to claim their souls. It had used no weapons except its feet and fists, and it obliterated entire blocks and legions of men in a maelstrom of energy, by will alone. This was all the proof Britain needed to show the people it ruled, there was no point in defiance. But of course, the Imperial Britannic Armed Forces were not simply going to cow these barbarians into obedience.
They would sear a scar into the people of South America's cultural memory for hundreds of years to come.
"Major Meadow." The voice of Sky Marshal Keery boomed over Samuel's comm link, as a four engined VTOL hurtled towards the Eva, proudly bearing the colours of the Argentinian Resistance Front.
"What is your command, sir?" He slammed aside one of the last remaining Argentinian VTOLs with a swipe of his white painted hand. The machine fell apart from the mere impact.
"Cease movement and focus on the maintaining of your A-T field. My fleet shall take it from here."
"Many of these people had very little to do with the uprising sir..."
"It matters not. These barbarians will make fine examples nonetheless, therefore the peoples of the conquered territories will be less inclined to reject the mercy of our glorious Emperor in future. Now, brace yourself or you may gain a few burns." The comm link went dead, and Samuel felt his shoulders slump.
Some ten thousand feet above Buenos Aires, eleven dagger shaped Imperial FCV's, painted in flashy black and gold, maintained a stationary position, having only just arrived a few minutes prior.
Upon the command bridge of the four hundred metre long Dauntless class dreadnought "Duxford," in his embroidered with gold lace navy blue tunic, khaki brown trousers, knee high black boots, and classic Imperial Sky Marshal's light blue cape, the grizzled Malcolm Keery surveyed the city below him with contempt.
So ugly when compared to Leopard. No spires, no banners, no roads, nothing. These worms suffered far less than us and yet they dwelt in their pigsty quite happily. By God this place was in need of flattening to begin with!
"Marshal! Major Meadow reports that his A-T field is at maximum power." A Lieutenant barked.
Keery nodded.
He better. Alexander will have my hide if his son comes to harm.
Turning around, swirling his cape, the portly man gestured to the crew members sitting below him at their touch screens.
"Broadcast my voice to all our forces engaged in this God forsaken piss hole. I would address them."
"Yes, Marshal!"
Turning back to stare out at the twinkling night sky from his vantage point on the bridge, Keery began to speak.
"Soldiers of His Imperial Britannic Majesty's 28th Field Army, and 5th Air Fleet! For over a week have we wasted our time with these barbarians. For over a week have we attempted to negotiate, but to no avail. Even when all else had failed, when we shelled and starved them these fools would not surrender. They had their chance. Those who would reject our mercy are far too stubborn for their own good. Let us show them, how unwise it is to be both stubborn and weak. As of this moment we shall commence bombardment of Buenos Airez, and we will not cease until every single living thing inside is a roasted and charred corpse!" He raised his arms in the air, revelling in his words.
Many of the eleven thousand souls across the fleet, and the some one hundred thousand men surrounding the city, were doing the same thing.
"Now, sing the song of victory! Hail Britain!" He yelled at the top of his lungs.
"Hail Britain!" His crew, his fleet, and the army below screamed in adulation before the second stanza of "Lion's roar," the Imperial national anthem, began to blare out on every radio frequency.
"Praise be our glorious Empire, may its rule never come to an end. The lion flag shall fly across the Earth,-!"
Samuel gently hummed along with it, whilst he watched the initial swarm of Assaye missiles hurtle down from the heavens, smacking into the ground and levelling entire neighbourhoods along with the last remaining Argentinian fortified positions, the sheer roar of the explosions drowning out thousands of death screams.
Both of rebel and innocent.
"-Sing of our homeland, that reigns above all, in this world-!"
There were some people standing near Unit 03's stationary feet, looking awestruck and horrified as their world burned around them, and yet said destroying fire harmlessly rolled off the flickering orange barrier which encased them.
Above, eleven bright blue glows slowly bloomed into existence.
"-Hail Emperor, for the pride of, our Great Britain!"
The positron beams descended from the sky like destructive holy fire, their mere touching of the ground creating craters the likes of which meteors produced. The following storm of crackling blue energy disintegrated everything else. One shot from a Positron cannon would have been enough to annihilate half the city, but Imperial battle doctrine was over the top to begin with, as was befitting of such a dramatic and grandiose society.
The music died down, and Samuel felt himself relax. He sadly looked around the ruined and charred landscape, sighing.
Stupid barbarians...why did you have to resist? Don't you understand that our Emperor simply wants what's best for us all?
He looked down at his feet to see a few dozen frightened families staring up at him.
Old, young, and weak.
"Report to all air units, there are still some non combatants in the land of the living. I request evac for them immediately." He spoke over his reopened comm link.
"By your command, Major Meadow. Evac inbound."
Soon enough a black "Harrier" class VTOL, an evolved version of the old RAF jet, swooped down towards them, its engines making a screaming noise that struck terror into millions.
Flicking his audio from private to loud, the blonde haired and blue eyed sixteen year old boy, angled his Evangelion's one eye down at the few survivors, and with a translator turned on he addressed them.
"Subjects of His Imperial Britannic Majesty Charles Sebastian Vance. Today you have witnessed our glorious Empire's might and mercy. Do not forget it." He couldn't help but smile to see a few fall at his feet pleading for forgiveness.
But unlike many of his British brothers and sisters, the Fourth child would accept such apologies.
Now however, his mind turned to his next deployment and what that entailed.
No more slaughtering helpless rebels for me. Now...now comes my real test. The Seraphim...they should make for fine opponents, if what NERV says is true...
His eyebrows knitted together upon remembering the report of the action which occurred the other day. Against a monstrous creature which had cut through the infamously tough Tokyo-3 defence lines like a knife through butter.
And then they narrowed upon thinking of the ill trained fool who somehow managed to kill it.
Shinji Ikari...enjoy your little victories whilst they last. For soon I shall demonstrate the Empire's glory to the entire world.
09:00pm, North American Federation, Revere sewer system.
The faint dripping of water echoed throughout the tunnels, only for it to be drowned out by splashing as men with boots ran through them.
The girl shuddered a little and squeezed her teddy bear, the only thing she had left of home, as her protectors clicked off the safeties on their rifles. To her relief, out of the gloom came similarly dressed people holding the same sort of antique guns and home made bombs the people she was with had.
"What the hell took you so long?" The leader of the smaller group called out.
"Federal Guard." One of them spat in response.
"Shit..."
"They're fucking everywhere. If we want to survive this we need to get out of Revere, tonight." The other one emphasized before turning his gaze upon the girl.
"What the hell is this?"
"One of the escapees from the camp...she was the only one we could save."
"...why is she here?"
"Why?...We couldn't just leave her..."
"No, you leave her here now, she'll only slow us down."
"Fuck you asshole, that's not happening."
"It is going to happen if you want to live. Let the Feddies have her..." His words echoed throughout the tunnel.
"Are you insane? You've seen the camps, you know what they do!" The leader put himself between the girl and the other man, whilst members of his group stared in shock.
"Yeah and I don't want to be there. We'll make things better for them one day, but if the revolution dies here then that's the end of it. Now let's move before those Guard catch up with us..."
The other group started moving off into the tunnel, with the leader of the smaller group looking frantically back and forth before sighing.
"Hope you don't weigh too much, kid..." He lifted the girl up and put her on his shoulders, before they took off after the larger group.
She didn't remember much of her early life, except it was happy.
Even in post-impact Mexico, with bandits and such roaming everywhere, she'd lived in a safe place with some semblance of order.
And then the bad men came. The bad men in grey coats and black helmets with red eyes and loud masks. They killed everyone who resisted, with bullets, bombs and...sticky fire. Then they took all those left up north, threw them into nasty places with sharp wire and cold houses, then made them work until their fingers bled.
"For your glorious Federation" was what they kept saying.
But it wasn't all bad, she'd had mother, the girl fondly reminisced.
She'd make her daughter laugh when the bones broke or the eyes bruised. But then came that day...when mother said something the bad men didn't like.
So they hit her, again and again, until she stopped moving. And never did again.
Then there was that night some days ago, when these nice people broke into the "camp" and rescued her along with a few others. They didn't last long.
Although her understanding of English was limited, the girl could tell her rescuers meant well through their tone of voice. Granted there were times when they yelled at each other, but they were always so quiet and kind to her. And they were Federal citizens, who had not known her suffering. And yet they stood against the regime they deemed a heinous bastardisation of their country.
Of the United States of America.
Will Dawson felt the girl's weight ware on him, but he didn't put her down.
He'd led his little band of rebels for nearly ten years now.
He remembered how in the year 1999 he'd joined the United States Marine Corps, and wore his uniform with pride. Until Second Impact, the collapse of the USA, and the rise of "Princeps Henry Abrams" and his Federation.
Restore the pride of America, Rome's true successor, was their rallying cry.
And for a while he'd bought it, even rising up the ranks to join the vaunted TM, the bodyguard of the Princeps, and paramilitary wing of his "Virtus" party.
Then they'd deployed him to one of the "rehabilitation camps."
His loyalty died there.
He couldn't understand how America had fallen so far, far enough to begin persecuting entire peoples for the crime of simply not being born on the fatherland's soil. How a nation meant to have been founded on truths meant to be held self evident, could work millions to death in the name of natural selection was beyond him. And to be frank, he was glad he didn't understand such evil.
Suddenly, the footsteps of the group stopped. In the very dim light, he could see the other leader raise his hand as watery footsteps echoed not too far away from them, causing all to take cover.
Quickly setting the girl down, and ushering her behind cover, Will clenched his M16 close to his chest. Utterly inferior to the "Impetus" assault rifle, but it did its job.
At the end of the tunnel, where it crossed with another in a T shape, a squad of Principe Federal Guard tramped past. Compared to the Ordos Corps, the iron fisted thugs who called themselves "a police force", the Guard was even more terrifying.
As this was Revere, built on top of old San Francisco, the Federal capital itself, the Ordos Corps contingent here had been well equipped but arrogant. They were easy to run rings around. But then Abrams had enough, and told his attack dog, TM Praetor Harrison Hirst, to put the various rebel groups in line. And thus, along with the Tutela Manipulis, an entire Legion of Federal Guard, fifty thousand men, were deployed to the city.
This being why the few remnants of "dissident movements" had been crammed down into the sewers, and even now they had to run.
The Guardsmen looked formidable, in their grey greatcoats with black helms, extensive body armour, gas masks, flowing red crests, and glowing red eye pieces. And from experience, Will knew they were every bit as capable and frightening as they looked.
But among them, catching his eye, was one wearing a white variation of the Guard uniform, except with cap instead of helmet.
Judging from her size, she was female...and young.
A TM Officer?
The squad had almost tramped past, when there was a sudden splash.
He inwardly cursed when he realised some idiot had lost their footing.
One of the Guard turned their red gaze down the tunnel. He stared for a while, then levelled his weapon and fired.
The flash of his gun lit up the whole rancid tunnel, showing the twenty or so rebels, and the poor bastard he hit in the head by chance.
The words "enemy sighted" and "fire, fire, fire" were screamed simultaneously.
Some of the rebel rounds found their mark, with one or two of the Guard dropping to the floor. But most of the time, they just bounced off armour or missed completely.
The Federal Guard, the soldiers who'd nearly brought the Great British Empire to heel a decade before, we're not nearly as amateur.
One by one, the rebels fell.
"Fall back, fall back!" Will yelled as he began to run, after emptying a whole clip of his rifle at the enemy.
Only to feel hot lead tear through his back.
The bullet smashed through his lungs, resulting in him crashing into the filthy water, blood issuing forth from his wound and mouth.
The girl was huddled in the corner, her horrified gaze fixed on him.
"Run..." He gurgled before life left him completely.
She didn't understand what he said, but the general meaning was understood.
A few minutes later the girl born in Mexico, so far from home, having run so very far, slumped down into the filthy water and cried. Now the bad men had taking another thing from her.
Her teddy bear was still in her arms, and she squeezed it as tightly as possible, whilst rocking back and forth. Clothed in soaking wet grey prisoners garb, she was utterly incapable of moving. As to be expected of a seven year old, having seen the things she'd seen.
Some water rippled not too far from her, as a footstep echoed throughout the tunnel. Slowly turning her gaze upwards, the girl started shaking even more.
For a pair of red eye pieces were staring at her.
The click of a safety being thumbed off echoed, as tears streamed down the girl's dimly illuminated face.
"Hands on your damn head, right now scum." The TM Junior Storm Leader gripped her pistol ever tighter as the dissident stared at her in terror. She shook her head fervently and started squealing about how she "didn't want to go back" in her native tongue.
One which the TM trooper didn't understand.
"Shut up, and hands up!" She barked, firing a shot off. Not at the dissident, but somewhere close by, so as to coerce the "brat" into obedience.
This had the opposite effect of what the Federal soldier had intended.
The girl immediately sprang up and tore away, screaming "no, no, no" again and again.
"Get back here!" Junior Storm Leader Tiffany Johnson levelled her pistol and fired. There was a squeal, and the dissident collapsed, crying.
Slowly, she walked over to the helpless "Latino", towering over her.
"Resistance is pointless, Latino, you should just accept your place."
The crying didn't stop.
"What are you whining about, I only shot you in the..."
The bullet hadn't gone into the leg like she'd intended. But into the back. Red liquid intertwined with sewage as the girl continued to cry whilst clutching her teddy.
"Johnson, what have you found?" The Guard Sergeant and his men caught up with her, finding themselves staring at a crying little girl. Most of them just remained silent as her strength slowly faded, as she garbled in a language they didn't understand.
One word over and over again. When translated, a word we would know as "Mommy."
And then she said no more.
"Junior Storm Leader Johnson, you and your squad are commanded to return to the surface. This area is clear. You have made the Federation proud this day, Foederatio sine fine!" The voice of their commanding officer crackled over the radio.
"Acknowledged. Foederatio sine fine."
Tiffany holstered her pistol and turned away, walking in what she would deem as an almost "dreamlike" state, as the fifteen year old's brain wasn't functioning properly.
Enemies of the state must die, for the good of the Federation. Was what she kept telling herself over and over again. Much to her frustration however, she wasn't believing it. The girl had questioned why she'd been sent down here, only to receive "Princeps orders" on the matter. Apparently it was so she could "grow a backbone" or something.
Eventually arriving above ground, she bid her escort farewell and made her way over to one of the local dinar bathrooms which had been cleared out due to the vast military operation underway. Once there, the Fifth child removed her mask and hat, letting her short black hair fall down and her green eyes shine with tears, before finding herself vomiting and crying uncontrollably.
3:00pm, Saturday the 10th of June, 2017 AD, Union of Western Communist Republics, Socialist Russian Federation, Moscow, Kremlin
The searing Russian summer sun bared down upon the Kremlin and its red square, causing the soldiers parading through it to sweat. But they were undeterred, this army so ruthlessly trained, still filled with pride from their victories in the so called "Euro-Russian war."
One by one, to the cheering crowds of the Russian people, regiments of the Red Army marched, crimson flags with the sickle and hammer proudly emblazoned upon them fluttering brilliantly. Unlike most parades however, the President was not present. Indeed some of his right hand men were overseeing this display of their country's power. For the man was indisposed, as he had, in his eyes, a far more important matter to attend to...
This building had seen so many government changes over the years. From the Tsar, to the Soviet Union, to the Federation, and now back to Communism's loving embrace.
Being summoned to the President's office could either be a very good thing or a very bad thing, which would cause most men to shiver at the possible outcome. But Vasily Ivanov, Warrant Officer of the 20th Guards Army, was beyond fear, and in some cases feeling itself.
It did amuse him at a subconscious level however, to see the sheer splendour of the Kremlin's gold and white encrusted walls, elaborate doors, and magnificent pictures, utterly clash with the very idea upon which his country, the Socialist Russian Federation, and the Union of Western Communist Republics in general, was founded. No man was above any other. All were equal, as set forth by the writings of Karl Marx.
But as always, hypocrisy was the nature of man.
In his standard issue dress uniform, dark green trousers, tunic, brimmed cap, and knee high black shiny boots, he stopped before the doors to the office, saluting upon being confronted by two guards.
"Comrade Ivanov. You are expected." A tall member of the Kremlin regiment in dark blue uniform, saluted in return, as did his fellow guard.
Despite being taller and of higher rank than the young man who stood before them, they couldn't help but be intimidated by how well built the blonde soldier was, and how his hazel eyes displayed not a single hint of emotion.
Lowering his hand and removing his standard issue cap, Vasily nodded and was then ushered in.
At the desk, with crimson flags hanging on the office's walls, with great portraits of communist heroes such as Lenin residing next to and in between them, sat the President of the Socialist Russian Federation.
Boris Flipov.
"Comrade Flipov." Vasily clicked his heels together and saluted, to which Boris gave an acknowledging nod.
"Ah, comrade Ivanov. Please take a seat."
Vasily briskly walked over and sat down, not at all intimidated by the bald and dark brown moustached man who ruled his homeland with an iron fist. A man said to be more brutal, cruel, and savage than even Princeps Henry Abrams himself.
And he knew all too well, despite what the propaganda said, every single story about this man was probably true.
Having sat down, he placed his cap on his lap, and folded his hands awaiting to hear whatever the President wanted to say.
"I wish for your thoughts on the event which occurred last Thursday." The most powerful man in Russia, laced his fingers together and leaned back in his chair.
"There is little to say, comrade Flipov. From what the reports say, and the fact the world didn't explode, the enemy was engaged and defeated."
"Ah, but you see there is." Boris pushed a button in his desk. A hologram flickered into life, displaying humanity's first true battle with a mighty Seraph. Upon the contest of brute strength's completion, the President turned his gaze back to sixth Child, and rested his head upon his hand.
"Well?"
"I was under the impression the Pilot was inexperienced?" Vasily said.
"Your impression would be correct."
The boy's expression remained blank, but as a man who'd beheld the his training, the President was quite aware of what Vasily putting his thinking cap on looked like.
"If that is the case, then how did he make an Evangelion perform like an experienced soldier?"
Boris exhaled ever so slightly before placing both his hands back on his desk.
"We do not know, comrade Ivanov. What we do know is NERV has a lot of secrets. Too many secrets. And an organization that refuses to tell us how machines can start bleeding, or how a Pilot with no training can defeat the enemy, is most certainly not an ally. In a few months time, with Unit 05 fully operational we shall deploy you to Japan onboard the K-219. And when you are there, I am ordering you to maintain constant vigilance until the Seraphim are defeated, and follow, Supreme Commander Ikari's orders only if you deem them adequate. You are there to fight for mother Russia, not for NERV."
"Understood, comrade Flipov."
The President sighed, then folded his hands and rested his old head upon them, his eyes gazing down upon the immense amount of paperwork he'd be attending to.
"I despise that Japanese upstart. He isn't even a head of state or a government official. He's...head of a private sector that didn't even exist before the Second Impact...to be commanded by such Capitalist scum...as if I am his inferior!" He glowered before remaking eye contact with Vasily's blank expression.
"That will be all. I believe you have a day of leave today?"
"That is correct, comrade Flipov. NERV Moscow has no use for me at this moment." The Russian boy with blonde hair fastened his cap back on his head.
"What do you plan on doing?" Boris said as he pulled out a sheet of paper from his desk and started writing on it.
"I intended to eat at a restaurant." Vasily said bluntly, as the President finished writing and put his own personal stamp on the document, before handing it to the young Warrant Officer.
"This is a presidential mandate for you to use any site of leisure within this city for free. Go and enjoy your day."
"My thanks, comrade Flipov." Vasily stood up, saluted, then began to walk out of the room.
"Ivanov." The President's voice caused him to stop mid-step.
"You are a soldier of the motherland, and therefore you represent it to the international community. Do not let yourself be out shined by Imperial, Federal, European, or Japanese pigs. Russia, Communism, and the Union of Western Communist Republics, cannot afford to be sidelined. And if you should deem any of the other Evangelion Units, or NERV itself to be a threat to national security..." He let that hang for a few seconds.
"You will do what is necessary."
"I will do my patriotic duty to mother Russia, comrade Flipov. Without question."
"Excellent. Good day."
Vasily turned away and walked out of the office, already dwelling upon the thought of crushing Shinji Ikari's throat.
I will do as I am commanded. To serve the motherland is my only purpose.
11:00am, People's Republics of Asia, People's Republic of China, NERV Beijing, sparring area
He strikes like a viper, swift and deadly, with a good jab to his partner's face. Unfortunately for him, she is much quicker.
The fist is caught, and an elbow is driven into Liu Zhou's nose, causing a slight trickle of blood to leak from his nostrils. Dazed, a leg hooks around his own and sure enough his balance fails him, causing him to collapse on the mat beneath him.
He groaned in pain, wiping the blood away with his sleeve before lying there for a few moments.
"Are you alright?" His partner gets down on one knee and places her hand upon his shoulder.
"I'd forgotten how much better at this you were than me..." Zhou grumbled before slowly sitting up, whilst his sparring partner, Junior Lieutenant Kim Hye of the Korean People's Army, simply laughed.
"Honestly, Zhou, you're getting slow these days." Clasping his hand, the Korean girl pulled the Chinese boy off the floor.
"Ready to go again?"
"I suppose I don't really have a choice..."
The second bout lasted a good deal longer, but once again she was far quicker and more flexible, resulting in the People's Liberation Army Captain getting knocked on his arse again.
And again.
And again.
After at least eight bouts, Zhou was quite exhausted whilst his partner was still behaving as if her legs were made of springs.
Not that this surprised him. Those who'd grown up in the shadow of Kim Jong Il were a tough breed. The life the People's Republics of Asia provided them wasn't the greatest, but it was an age of plenty for the former citizens of the People's Democratic Republic of North Korea. Their South Korean brethren however...well that was a different story. It would be apt to say they did not enjoy being part of a united communist Korea. But Beijing commanded it, and its word must be obeyed as the many peoples of Asia had learned. Usually through the baton of riot police or the edge of a bayonet.
Hye's hands found their way to her hips as she tilted her head with amusement.
"Tired already? it wasn't too long ago that we could do this for hours."
"We're not as young as we once were eh?" He ran a hand through his mop of short black hair.
"Zhou...we're both sixteen."
"In this age, my love, that is old." He smiled sheepishly as she placed her face only a few inches from his own.
"Oh are you turning your charm on, Liu Zhou? We both know you are no good at that..." And then her lips were on his for a few seconds before drawing back.
"But it will do." She chuckled, before taking hold of her boyfriend's arm and tugging him towards the changing rooms.
"You go and put your uniform on. I'll meet you back outside in a few minutes." She smiled at him before walking off.
Zhou found himself standing there for a while with a blushing face, knowing full well the NERV "Section Sixes" were probably laughing their socks off whilst looking through the security cameras in the room.
Perverted swine...
It took five minutes for him to slip out of his martial arts clothing and back into his PLA uniform. Of course, Hye was already waiting for him in her own uniform, her arms folded.
"And there I was thinking something had happened to you." Her lips curled into a smile before she took his hand in her own.
They did this a great deal, simply walking together. Enjoying each other's company, as they had done for at least two years now. Before that...well, the two had friends in the respective armies to which they were attached, but nothing came close to the bond they had now.
Eventually, their root took them up to NERV Beijing's roof, giving them a wondrous view of the smog filled skyline of the Chinese capital city.
Fortunately, with the discovery of the A-T fields, the invention of S2 engines, and the inexhaustible clean energy which came with it, the pollution of Beijing in 2017 did not require a mask to breathe. Nevertheless, Communist party officials said it would take years for all the smog to be cleared.
The two sat down on one of the compartments at the top of NERV Beijing's sky scraper, a compartment that was nowhere near the edge. Which was fortunate for Zhou, as he wasn't fond of heights.
"How has training been going for you?" Hye's grey eyes met his brown ones as she squeezed his hand a little.
"Not bad. Since they selected me as the Seventh child, all NERV's made me do is synch testing."
"Synch testing? You must be bored out of your mind, Zhou..."
"No...I've never been bored inside Unit 06."
"Yes I know, it feels warm in there. I don't know why you think that, it's freezing for me."
She'd always hated it, and it was personally disturbing that her man rather liked it inside the monster. Speaking of monsters, her hand began to squeeze Zhou's a little more, as her other hand started to nervously fiddle with a nail in the compartment they were sitting on.
That thing I saw on the news...that awful monstrous thing! It walked through the Japanese defence lines as if they weren't even there. And soon...they will send my Zhou off to fight...
Hye desperately hoped NERV was wrong, that President Cao Xu was right and there was only one Seraph, and this boy who'd pulled her out of the worst days of her life, as she did for him, would not have to go and fight. But her gut said much worse was on the way, and her instincts were rarely wrong. They'd been right about the fall of the Kim regime, the death of her parents, the failure of the invasion of Japan, and now probably this.
Please come home for me, you promised I wouldn't be alone again...
"Hye, what's the matter?" He said in an alarmed tone as the object of his affection's eyes began to water up.
"I-It's nothing..."
"I'm a soldier, Hye, just like you. I have to go and fight, it's my duty. To China, the People's Republics of Asia-" Hye found her chin being cupped, forcing eye contact between the two.
"-and to you."
The kiss lasted for quite a while, until eventually the two had to draw back for fear of suffocating.
Using his finger, Zhou gently wiped away Hye's tears and smiled.
"I will come back, I swear. I will live for you." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into an embrace, her head resting upon his own shoulder.
"Thank you."
The two sat on the roof for a few minutes, basking in each other's company and warmth.
"Anyway, I'm not leaving for months yet. Want to get something to eat and talk about something a bit less depressing?" He squeezed the light of his life.
"As long as you're paying."
"Honestly, Hye how could you? Pilfering the pockets of a poor innocent Captain." His smile turned into a grimace, as by her standards she gently elbowed him in the ribs.
"An extortionately well paid one. Which is lucky because we are binge eating tonight."
"You are going to eat me out of house and home!" Zhou said over dramatically, eliciting laughter from his girlfriend for a few moments, before she quietened, as a thought came to her. A thought of something she'd wanted to do for quite a while now.
"Well...we could always eat in my apartment." She whispered into his ear.
"Eh? But yours is smaller than mine..." He stopped dead in his track as his cheeks were filled with red.
"Are...are you...are you sure?"
"We've been together for two years now, Zhou. I love you, I know for sure. And besides..." Hye lifted her head up, so she could look into the deep brown eyes of the Seventh child.
"What sort of girl am I if I let my long term boyfriend die a virgin?"