DC Evangelion
Chapter 5: The New Pilot and an Uneasy SEELE
Shinji Ikari fidgeted in his seat as he stared out of the window of the private passenger car of the magnetic levitation train that was taking him to Tokyo-3 … and his mother.
He felt uncomfortable seated in such a luxurious environment. Maybe he should have insisted on sitting in the regular passenger compartments. Of course, his discomfort might have nothing at all to do with the train itself but more with seeing his mother again. Maybe.
He glanced at the spindly and strange looking robot hovering nearby. He/it/the thing/whatever never wavered when it introduced itself to Shinji as the major domo of the First Class Compartment. It had practically hovered around Shinji for the first hour of the trip as it stowed his bags, fetched him a warm moist towel, offered him a choice of chilled or heated beverages which it whipped out of it's stomach/storage compartment on demand, fiddled with the humidity control until its sensors detected the optimum comfort level for Shinji, and showed him the various features of the compartment including the retractable Holo-TV screen which he didn't watch, the computer with the web links to the Tokyo-3 Library System which he could use to download any sort of reading material he might desire and just about every single video game imaginable which he didn't use, and seemed practically disappointed when Shinji insisted on using the toilet in private.
The robot had even offered to use the considerable internal sound projection system to play any number of musical pieces which Shinji declined, preferring to use his own headphones.
He got the feeling that the robot was sulking over his unwilling guest who refused to use any of the hedonistic pleasures of the First Class Compartment. Shinji wondered, was it was possible to feel guilty over not having a robot massage your feet?
He sighed as he leaned back into the comfortable and extremely plush chair. He did have to admit that the chair was rather nice. It was one of the latest powered chairs that literally conformed itself to each individual's body shape.
He sighed again and wondered why his mother had abruptly sent for him to come to Tokyo-3. He knew that her job kept her extremely busy. Much too busy for him, he thought sourly. He got the occasional phone call, a card on his birthday, and very rarely she might even visit, but he had gotten used to her absentee raising of him. Used to it maybe, part of him thought darkly, liking it on the other hand…
He adjusted his headphones and clicked a button on his disc player to begin the next music track. Well, he would find out when he got there. After all, it probably wasn't THAT important now was it? It wasn't like he was going to save the world or anything.
Lulled by the gentle rocking of the train, Shinji closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Even had Shinji Ikari been awake, he might not have noticed the dull thumps as various other passenger cars began uncoupling themselves from the train and began taking other diverting tracks.
Nor might he have noticed that the landscape which had been passing by a fairly good clip was now blurring by as the train began accelerating even faster than before as it began redlining its acceleration drive.
The magnetic levitation train bearing the new Pilot Candidate sped onward towards Tokyo-3 and Fortress 1.
Within a darkened chamber, hidden away from the rest of the world that he had come to despise Lorenz Keele waited. Patience was something that had not been easy for him but immortality if nothing else, had taught him the value of patience.
He could afford to be patient. He could afford to wait. He had time. He always did. After all … time was on his side.
His hands tightened into fists and he felt his face twist into a snarl. It used to be anyways.
The alien, he ground his teeth. It always came back to that damnable XT!
He couldn't believe it. All of his centuries of planning, of plotting, of maneuvering, of backstabbing, of manipulating. And all of it, all of it was in jeopardy because of some stupid alien infant.
The United Nations and hence the entire world should be firmly under his thumb by now.
But it wasn't.
He should have the greatest, the most powerful, the most indestructible war machines ever created at his beck and call.
But he didn't.
He should be starting the Human Instrumentality Project. He should be planning Third Impact.
He growled. He was losing it. Everything. Everything that he had worked for centuries for, everything that he had planned for, everything that he had achieved.
Everything had been going smoothly. Everything had been going according to his plan. To his grand design. Then General Hiro Matsuda. The JSA. Yui Ikari. And the EXO Frames. And all of it because of some fucking alien XT!
Hate clawed at him. He resisted the urge to kill with his bare hands but it was so difficult.
Suddenly the lights in the chamber dimmed sharply. He straightened and took a breath and composed himself as light photons sprang upward from holographic imagers. He let his balled up fists to relax and settled himself into his seat with an air of calm indifference. He waited as the photons began weaving themselves into the holographic forms of his subordinates. Of the members of SEELE.
"Yes?" he rumbled impatiently and mentally cursed. He was letting his anxiety show. You should know better than that! He mentally reprimanded himself, don't let—
"The Third Angel has appeared," one of his subordinates announced.
Lorenz Keele felt a quiver in his spine. Only centuries of iron control enabled him not to scream and curse. He had gotten quite good at the cursing too. Several centuries and over a dozen languages had enabled him to acquire a considerable vocabulary and repertoire of curses. He listened as they continued.
"We intercepted reports from the Japanese Strategic Self Defense Forces…"
"Has passed through the outer defense perimeter…"
"Fortress 1 is on line with Fortress 2 and 3…"
"The JSSDF is mobilizing…"
"The JSA is implementing the activation of their EXO Frames…"
Lorenz Keele continued to listen impassively. At least on the outside. Inside, he was seething. And more than that, he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something he hadn't felt in over a millennia.
He was running out of time.
A/N: Oh yeah, something I forgot to add in the last Author Notes is that gunman also wanted to know why the Japanese Scientific Analysis and Advisory Board was called the JSA and not say JSAAB. That's because I named it the JSA in tribute to the Justice Society of America or as it is referred to in the modern day as the JSA.