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Last Child of Krypton
16- Ruins
Asuka's eyes snapped open and she blinked fatigue away from her eyes, shocked to realize she had actually been asleep. She wasn't the only one. Everyone in the plane had, in fact, fallen into a deep slumber, and she alone was awake, jarred from her rest by the sudden lean as the craft began to bank. She looked out the window and gasped at what she saw.
The ocean was a brilliant, pearly blue, the waves rippling across the surface like etchings in a blue mirror. They were circling an island, small but steadily growing in size as the final approach began. It was large, round, and dominated by a central plateau, the highest point of which was dominated by a massive Greek temple that reminded her of pictures of the Parthenon she'd seen in her history classes, except where the old Athenian structure was in ruins and bare stone this building was complete and covered in a violent profusion of bright pastels and paints.
Something bad had happened here. The lower part of the island, leeward to the great temple, had been scoured away, nearly half it surface covered with scrub and trees and broken buildings- the ugly scar of a tsunami, no doubt, that had struck the island during Second Impact, the new growth a sign of nature's reclamation of the island.
Around her, the others began to stir. Kaji woke first and stared out his own window grimly, his jaw set. The others followed, and in a few minutes all of them were staring out the windows in silence, except for Fuyutsuki, who though awake looked desperately tired, sunken, and old, his eyes focused intently on nothing. The lights in the cabin dimmed and the island rolled away under the plane's fuselage, followed by the lurch as it began to point its nose skyward and descend. Asuka turned from the window and gripped the arms of her seat a little harder than she would have liked. Unbidden, the memory of her last landing rose to the surface of her mind and she bit her lip, trying to look as if it was the landing that was disturbing her.
All in all, it was a gentle affair. The pilot must have been an expert. The craft taxied to a stop and sat for a moment before the seat belt lights went out and with a mechanical whirr the door swung downwards, unfolding into a staircase. Blue sky, unmarked by clouds, beckoned beyond. Fresh air flowed in, warm and a little moist and smelling of salt and the sea, with a tiny tinge of rot beneath that bothered her a little, though she couldn't say why.
Slowly, Kaji rose and stepped out onto the stair, ducking through the door. He stood stone still for a moment, then waved for the others to follow. Asuka slowly undid her seat belt and rose, a little shaky, and waved off Misato's attempt to steady her with her good arm. She followed the others onto the little landing strip among the trees and understood why the others had gasped when they stepped outside, except, of course, Rei, who took it all in with the same stoic gaze she always maintained.
Before her stood an Amazonian royal guard. Literally. Two women, one vaguely Greek, the other vaguely African, dressed in hoplite scale armor, massive crested helmets, and perfectly, impossible clean white togas with spears in their hands and heavy bronze shields strapped to their arms. Their armor, their gear, all of was perfectly, heavily real, well cared for but obviously ancient and authentic at the same time. Between them stood a living goddess, perfect as if she had been carved of marble, standing well over six feet tall in bare feet, clad in a white gown. She regarded Asuka with piercing, inquisitive almond-shaped eyes. Her hair trailed nearly to her feet, jet black so dark it was almost blue streaked with fine threads of gray. No age touched her face, but she was not young. A thin, barely perceptible scar traced down the left side of her face, as if someone had tried to cut out her eye and not struck deeply enough.
She spoke to the group as one, her gaze resting on each in turn. "Welcome to Themyscira. I am Diana, Queen of the Amazons."
"The what of the what?" Misato said, incredulous. Kaji elbowed her and she winced.
The woman –Diana- stiffened slightly, her expression betraying her mirth, and then settled again into a regal slouch, radiating queenly grace. "I forgive your ignorance. Ever since the Great Disaster, we have sequestered ourselves from Man's World even further than before."
"I thought no man was allowed to set foot here," Kaji said amiably.
"Since your predecessor arrived, we have relaxed that rule," Diana replied, eyeing him up and down. She had a good four inches of height on him, even his heavy boots. "He had the good sense to wear a mask."
"I left it in the car," Kaji deadpanned.
"The ancient laws of hospitality demand I offer you all that we have to offer. I can see that you are all weary from travel and hungry for both food and answers. My attendants will see to your needs, and then we will convene in the Great Hall. If you will excuse me."
She turned, flanked by her guards, and sashayed away with a bearing that was simultaneously regal and martial. She shot Asuka a glance over her shoulder that made something in her stomach quiver, as if she was being weighed and measured.
Moments later, younger, slighter girls appeared, taking each of the travelers by the arm. The young lady that came to Asuka was slightly shorter than she was, with honey blonde hair and a slightly ditzy expression. She smiled broadly at Asuka and began to lead her by the arm.
"Hi! I'm Io."
"Uh, hi Io," Asuka replied, her mind a little fuzzy. She spoke three languages, and she wasn't even sure which one was coming out her lips.
She couldn't help but stare at the scenery as the girl walked her down a path paved with intricately fitted marble stones, each perfectly smooth and somehow soft, almost like carpeting. The airstrip was the least interesting part of the island, by far. They'd landed on a hilltop, and spread out beneath it was the island itself, a placid knot of greenery in the center of a vast, sparkling blue sea that shone like a jewel.
Yet, what she saw from the plane window proved true. For every beautiful sight there were ten broken, twisted ruins. Large sections of the island had been scoured clean or cratered, the strange rents in the Earth now grown over with grass and immature trees, marked here and there with the cracked remains of foundations, jutting from the earth like broken teeth. She could see further down the island where the greenery had not even grown back yet, leaving bare patches of black earth dotted here and there with sickly leaves of grass.
"What happened here?"
"The Great Disaster," Io said, her voice a little shaky. "Waves and wind, and then others came, men from Outside." She shuddered. "To teach us the price for interfering in Man's World."
Asuka eyed the girl a little warily.
Io guided Asuka, along with the Mari, Rei, and Misato and their guides to a low structure that was isolated from the rest of the island by a thick ring of trees. Steam and fragrant smells of soap wafted out. Asuka took a deep breath and felt a sudden shiver run through her body that didn't fade even as Io helped her remove her plugsuit and step down into a steaming hot bath. When she'd finally cleansed her hair of the LCL, she was brought a white dress like Io wore, that fit her so well it was if it had been made for her. When she saw Misato dressed in one of her own, she felt a pang of jealousy.
They gathered outside the baths on the path to the enormous building, the Great Hall. Kaji stared openly at Misato, and Asuka found herself staring at him. He wore some kind of toga, and damn but he was buff. She stifled a sob as she pushed the thought down. Shinji was coming back. She knew it. He wouldn't leave her. He promised. He promised, and he was Superman. He could do anything.
Fuyutsuki coughed, holding a fist to his mouth. In this alien garb he resembled a Roman senator, and somehow gained a regal bearing despite the oddness of his dress. Rei stood like a statue, observing the others, while Mari swished her skirts back and forth like a child playing with her mother's clothes. Io, the girl that had led Asuka down the mountain, coughed and directed them up to the hall where Diana waited for them.
The Queen of the Amazons led the way to a low stone chamber that was darkened, lit only by candles. In the center of the room, under a soft purple light, an ancient man lay abed, swaddled in white silks. His chest rose and fell in soft rhythm, and he looked on the verge of death. Asuka glanced at Diana and saw the longing in her face when she looked at him, a deep sadness that mirrored her own, and looked away quickly.
"We don't have long," the Queen said softly. "Only our Purple Ray keeps him alive. Without it he will have hours, minutes, if that."
"How long has he been here?" Kaji asked softly, drawing nearer.
"Five years. After he left you in Berlin, I brought him here myself. He refused at first, the stubborn old fool."
"The stubborn old fool can hear you," the old man said with stunning clarity. Asuka shuddered when she heard it.
The man that led abed under the odd purple light was drawn and spare, but the sheer size of his emaciated frame suggested he once matched Diana in height, and he had the odd folds and leathery texture in the skin of his exposed torso that suggested he'd once packed a hefty amount of lean, functional muscle, like the body of a retired boxer or swimmer. Beneath thin wisps of white hair his eyes were piercing and clear, dark blue, undimmed by age or injury. He breathed in ragged gasps, except when he spoke with a voice like a wind through a graveyard.
"The suit you wore," he said to Kaji, ignoring Asuka and the others. "The '96 model. A little outdated. Still better than the '89. I could barely move my head."
"I thought you were dead."
"Do I look like I've been out dancing to you? They shot me in the back, Ryoji. I suppose I'm lucky to be alive. I wondered how long it was going to take you to finally accept it and put on the cowl."
"I didn't want to," Kaji looked away grimly.
"That's why I wanted you to have it. It's all yours, all of it. Diana has maps of the caves, my case files, everything. There must be a Batman."
Kaji nodded. "I understand."
"No, you don't," the old man snapped. "You never understood."
"Would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on?" Misato snapped.
""Shut up and listen," the old man said. "I have a story to tell you. It begins with September 13, 1999,"
"Second Impact," Misato interrupted.
The old man glared at her. "The day evil won. It was our fault, our generation, we failed to stop it. We never realized how serious they were. There were games back and forth but somehow we never believed they would really do it. The enemy was organized. They had money, power, influence."
Diana actually shuffled on her feet, looking away.
"You mean SEELE."
"SEELE is a front, a cover. SEELE controls NERV and the United Nations, but who controls SEELE? Immortals. Broken down old gods. Mad geniuses. Wizards. Men who can change their shape, who can control shadows, who can control other's minds. Organized, ruthless, and efficient. We didn't understand what we were facing until it was too late to stop them."
"We?" Misato said, "who is we?"
"Me. Diana. A few others. They came and went through the years. We'd form a group to face this or that crisis, then break up, drift apart over petty squabbles. By the time I was an old man there were fewer and fewer of us as the old guard died or retired or were murdered by the enemy. After the Watchtower went down in '82, we were all but done. Even at the height of our abilities, we were boxing at shadows. One secret group goes down, ten more pop up in its place. Get the book."
Diana left for a moment and then returned with a heavy leatherbound journal in her hands. She presented it to Kaji almost reverently.
"So much information, so much data," the old man wheezed now, visibly tired from speaking. "This is the best I could do to turn it into a narrative, sort the wheat from the chaff. Incomplete at best. The work you and I did in Germany is here."
Asuka felt a hand on her shoulder. "Come with me," Diana whispered.
The Queen led her to the Great Hall itself. Large enough for two Evangelions to stand abreast, the room shocked her, and for not the first time this day, she found herself gaping. The room was lined with statues of beautiful women in armor, each different, yet each the same. They bore something in common. Each statue had a lasso at her waist, elegantly and perfectly carved in marble, so clean and perfectly formed that it looked as if they would bend like real rope if she touched them. Standing at the hall was a pair of bracelets, no, arm bracers, a tiara, and a golden lasso that gleamed and shone with its own inner light. The ensemble rested on a folded costume of red, blue, and gleaming cloth of gold atop a carven pillar. Asuka stared at them in silence beside the Queen of the Amazons.
"We infiltrated NERV," the queen whispered. "One of those infiltrators was tall and long of limb, with eyes like ice and her hair aflame."
Asuka stood dumbly for a moment and then turned to the queen, her eyes wide, her mouth open in an expression of shock.
Diana looked at her gravely. "Her name in Man's World was Kyoko. She was your mother."
Asuka sank to her knees, the strength flooding out of her legs. She clutched her belly to stop herself from hyperventilating and looked up.
"You're telling me that my mother was an Amazon?"
"As are you, daughter of Themiscyra. Welcome home."
SSSSS
Shinji Ikari's eyes flew open and he sat up, gasping for air, but no air came. He bowled over and found himself rolling in gray dust, even his tiniest movement sending him floating off the ground. For a shocked moment he'd thought he'd forgotten how to control his fly and slammed into the ground, kicking up a bowl of dust. He watched drift straight down in the darkness, undisturbed by the wind, and had a sudden, shocking realization. He was in a vacuum.
He noticed something. For one, his suit was in tatters, barely clinging to his body. For another, there was a flag nearby, the old pre-impact American flag, held out straight by a little metal arm on a pole. Seeing it lying on the ground, he drunkenly stood, fighting to maintain his balance, and planted the flag back in the ground. He noticed a plaque nearby and cleared the dust off it, and gasped again for the missing air. The message inscribed on it sent a chill up his spine.
Here men from the planet Earth first set foot upon the Moon, July 1969, A.D. We came in peace for all mankind.
He stumbled, lifting several feet off the ground, as a wave of realization washed over him. There was no avoiding it. The coal black sky dotted by an impossible field of stars, the flag, the plaque, the gray, lifeless dust.
He was on the Moon.
He looked down at himself. He was mostly intact, although everything he'd been wearing was gone. A tear slid down his cheek, caught some momentum and slid off into space, gently arcing towards the ground. Water on the Moon. The realization hit him. The blast from the N2 missiles must have blown him into space. The death throes of the Angel had hurled him all the way into lunar orbit. The warm light of the sun pricked his skin. It must have been hundreds of degrees around him, but he ignored it. He scanned the sky and fell again, utterly floored by what he saw.
He saw Earth. The whole Earth. Truly saw it, as only he could see. He saw the bottom half of the world, brutally scarred by Second Impact, the sea stained red with the Great Mother's blood. He saw bustling activity. His superhuman sight saw everything, every detail, as the eye of God records the fall of the sparrow. Every man, every woman, every living thing moving and living, leaving him enraptured. He saw more. He saw the rays, alpha and beta and gamma, scatter across the atmosphere, saw the Aurora Borealis and Australis, saw ocean currents, saw the last whales migrating with their young, the last men of the old way in the last rainforest seeking after prey.
He saw babies being born, and old men and women dying. He saw bank robberies and murders and men and women making love. Involuntarily his vision opened and he saw it all, the totality of the spectrum of electromagnetic energy, lines of electricity and magnetism criss-crossing the globe like ley lines, or glowing veins. The sight was so magnificent, so utterly beguiling that he couldn't tear away from it. It was like gazing into the eye of God.
He heard a tiny voice whisper, impossibly, Shinji Ikari.
He turned towards the sound of the voice, or what he perceived as the sound of the voice, and started walking towards it, gingerly at first, then more surely, compensating for the low gravity. He crossed a crater near the landing site –some part of his mind recalled, dimly, that it was called Tranquility Base- and crested a low, smooth rise of slightly darker lunar dust. What he found on the other side shocked him.
Lying against the edge of a distant crater was a structure. At some point, it had been some sort of spaceship, or perhaps a satellite, a massive array of spindly towers and a habitation ring arranged around a central cylindrical section. Now, it lay crushed to ruin against the gentle slope of the far side of the crater. He scanned it and found it mostly empty, save for the distant form of something he could barely see, something that was breathing. He started towards it.
Shinji Ikari, the voice called again.
He found an opening in the main ring, a rent in the metal skin of the craft. It was protected by a shimmering field of force that flickered into blue life when he touched it, but allowed him to pass unobstructed. Once inside, he felt the welcome, and cool, press of an atmosphere. Still thinner than he was used to, though, like standing on a high mountain. It didn't bother him. He walked up a diagonal hall, steadying himself with a hand on the curved wall.
The corridor opened onto what had, at some point, been a museum. Shattered display cases lay everywhere. He blinked in surprise and looked around, confused. Against one wall, leaning in a dent in the metal, was a gargantuan penny that must have taken up tons of copper, and lying against that appeared to be the remains of some sort of animatronic tyrannosaur, huge and opened mouthed and broken-toothed. He ran his hand along the cool surface, feeling the fake, rubbery scales, like pebbles. There were smaller objects, too. A pan shaped helmet adorned with a pair of wings, dented and tarnished. He held it up and looked at it, finding nothing remarkable about it, and set it aside.
He picked up a piece of debris and found two objects. One looked like some sort of old train lantern, made entirely of smooth, cool green metal with a green lens. He tried to look through it, but the material of which it was made blocked his sight. On the floor beside it was a ring that appeared to bade of perfectly cut green crystal. When he touched it, it let out a pulse of strange, eerie green light and lifted up in front of him. It pulsed twice and then zipped off, vanishing through a nearby wall. He stood in shock for a moment.
Shinji, the tiny voice whispered, please hurry.
The room had been trashed. Many of the cases were broken, and it was clear that it had been ransacked. He could see the opening in the wall, also shielded by a strange field, where the invaders had entered the structure. Beyond the museum there was some sort of conference room with a massive round table. Around it were chairs, adorned with symbols, although most had been broken off or obscured. There was a lightning bolt, a stylized bat, three stars in a triangle, some sort of lantern, like the kind locomotives once carried.
Beyond that there was a corridor, leading into the structure's central chamber. He followed.
The room was filed with the ruined remnants of computers and communications arrays and screens, dominated in the center by a spiraling workstation, a huge and shattered array of keyboards, screens, phone handsets, and other devices. Circuit boards and electronic guts lay strewn about, torn apart with clawmarks and sooty evidence of fire. Shinji sucked in a breath of thin air.
In the midst of it all was a creature.
It was twice his size at least, and what was left of it was massively muscled beneath mottled green skin that moved and twisted unnaturally, supported by unfamiliar bones and muscles. The creature took deep, ragged breaths, and Shinji suddenly felt guilty for sucking in the thin air. Fully half of its body was a ruin of old burns, still covered with soot and charred, cracked skin. It lay twisted and broken, clearly paralyzed, and gazed at him with one eye that was all red, no iris or pupil. Shinji stared, open mouthed, then moved forward.
"You're hurt," he said, his voice tinny in the thin air, "let me help you."
I am dead, the creature spoke in his mind, you must hear my message, Shinji Ikari, so that I have not died in vain.
"Who… who are you?"
My name is J'onn J'onnz. I was the Manhunter from Mars. Open your mind to me, Shinji Ikari. You must see.
"I will," he said, taking a step forward. "Show me."
I am the last of my kind. With me, my race dies. Yours will be born anew. In passing my knowledge to you, my race will live on. The universe will know, that once, we were here.
He found himself standing, suddenly, in a huge room. Or it seemed huge, at first, until he realized that he was enormous as well. He looked down and saw three fingered hands, green of flesh, and felt a wave of realization.
My world as it was.
He looked around the room. There were no angles, only soft, curving grey stone, or perhaps it wasn't stone at all. He was not alone. There was another of his own kind with him, smaller and more delicate and… and beautiful. He felt a wave of recognition as the other called in a language he did not understand and a small one entered the room. Shinji watched arms reach out and scoop up the young one.
My wife. My child.
They walked outside. The world around them was lush, all strange purple and yellow hues, great stalks of some grain that swept to and fro in the wind, whispering joyfully. The sky, a pale cream color, was lit by a distant, tiny sun. The air was cool, and yet oh so welcome. Shinji felt a wave of joy ripple through his body.
This was Ma'aleca'andra, the world you know as Mars. It was our home.
Then, he heard it. A keening wail, a strangely mechanical sound. He turned, and he saw it, and a wave of horror swept through him. The form bearing down on him was entirely too familiar. It was enormous, as if a great mountain had taken flight, but this was no mountain. It was a vast crystal octahedron, perfect and transparent except for the red orb at its center. The image faded from view, and he saw something else, less deep, less personal. He felt his own existence melt into a single viewpoint, a simple point of thought in space.
Before him was a burning orb, and it took him a moment to recognize it as a planet, the fourth from the distant, piercingly white sun. Something emerged from the surface, a great white sphere. With ponderous slowness it tore free from the surface, leaving a falling cone of molten rock behind it, like fish leaping from the surface of a still pond. Something in Shinji stirred.
You came to call the scar of its passing Olympus Mons.
He found himself in the strange room again, and he sank to his knees before the creature.
The race you know as Angels visited destruction on my world as well. There are those among your kind who believe they can control this force. They have already attempted it.
"You mean Second Impact," Shinji guessed, staring up at the alien.
Man believes he can master the technology of Gods. He does not see that it, in turn, masters him.
"This will happen to Earth if I don't stop it?"
No. My world held no Seed of Life when the White Moon came among us. Yours had already been colonized by those who created the Seeds. Your fate will be worse. Death that is life.
Shinji shuddered. "I can stop it. I will stop it. Thank you."
Wait, there is more.
"What is it?"
There are worlds other than these, Shinji Ikari. This world is not what it once was. When mankind grew proud and drew down the wrath of Second Impact, a door was opened, and something came in. Though he cannot yet take physical form, he is among you. Beware, Shinji Ikari. You face an enemy beyond your understanding.
"How do I stop this?" he said softly, meeting the gaze of the alien. "What do I do?"
What we could not. We were many, yet our enemies were more numerous. This place was a hall of heroes, once, but division and strife among us made us vulnerable. Our enemies recruited some, and murdered or drove underground those they could not corrupt. Now, what we meant to become a shining beacon for the future has become a tomb. I have waited since the day the hated fire took me for the time when I would look upon mankind's champion. I used the last of my strength to draw you here when the creature died.
Shinji nodded. "I'll do what I can."
There is one more task I must ask of you, child.
"What is it?"
You must remember.
Images began to flash in his mind. He saw a group of figured standing around the great round table, and the alien's sending focused his vision on each of them in turn, beginning with a short, lean man in a red jumpsuit adorned with lightning bolts, a mask drawn back from his head to reveal a mop of unkempt red hair and a boyish grin.
Barry Allen. He was the fastest man alive. He was the Flash.
Beside the red haired man stood a tall, heavy-jawed man in a green and black bodysuit adorned with a stylized green symbol on a circular white field, wearing a small green domino mask over his eyes. He smiled brightly. A green ring glowed on his hand.
Hal Jordan. The Last Green Lantern of Sector 2814.
Next was a beautiful woman with flowing auburn hair and, bizarrely, a pair of huge gray wings, like those of a great raptor. Beside her stood a man, similarly adorned. Both held helmets shaped like bird's heads under the arms. The woman bore a mace, while the man bore an inward curving sword.
Shayera and Katar Hol, refugees from the world of Thanagar.
Beside the Thanagarians stood a tall, voluptuous woman in a heavy armored breastplate, gleaming silver bracers, and a gleaming tiara. At her belt hung a lasso of golden fibers, glinting in the half light.
Diana of Themyscira, champion of the Gods.
Finally, Shinji felt a wave of cold flow through him as a pair of eyes hidden under a black cowl met his own. Shapes to give the impression of a bat, the presentation overcame the absurdity of the idea and he felt the muscular man in cape and cowl staring him down tap into some primal fear from the unconscious part of his mind.
Bruce Wayne. The Batman.
"What happened to them?"
Murdered, all. Only Diana and Bruce escaped the destruction of this place. Our enemies knew, and exploited, our every weakness. The Yellow Impurity. Friction. Simple brute force. Only Diana's retreat saved both her and the Batman from death.
That is all I ask of you, Superman. That you remember.
"You will be avenged," Shinji said, clenching his fists.
No. Not vengeance. Never vengeance. Justice.
Something in the alien's eye flickered, and faded, and Shinji suddenly felt utterly, crushingly alone.