Chichi-jima
Shinji hit the ground hard, digging a long furrow in the earth as he came to a stop. Steam rose from a slagged hole in his breastplate, where the mysterious woman's blast had struck home. Warmth pooled his chest, almost soothing, and he realized that he was bleeding. Shaking, he rose to his feet, a low groan of pain escaping him. He was not in good shape; already his armor was battered and broken in places, and his body felt little better.
The White Woman descended from the sky, an ethereal glow about her as she gently landed on the scorched earth. Her crimson eyes locked with Shinji's, and a smirk formed on her flawless face.
"Disappointing," she tittered, clicking her tongue in disapproval as she stepped forward. "You could have been a perfect being, complete unto yourself, but instead you live as one of the Lilim. Frail, imperfect, weak. You are undeserving of your gift, and I shall take it from you."
Feeling energy surge through his battered body, Shinji fired a Proton Beam, aiming straight for the woman's face. Right before the narrow blue beam made contact, however, the woman suddenly disappeared, leaving only the brief flicker of an AT-field. There was an imperceptible passing of time, then she was suddenly bearing down on Shinji from the sky, a dull red glow in her chest as she lunged-
-just in time to receive a Meteor Missile to the face. A massive explosion blossomed from the point of impact, completely enveloping her and forcing Shinji to duck as flames washed over him. Once the worst had passed, he sprung into action again, delivering a kick to the White Woman's face while she was still staggering from the previous attack. He pressed his advantage, unwilling to let her recover, striking from all angles in a flurry of kicks and punches.
The White Woman suddenly caught his fist, threatening to break bone with her strength as she glared at him. A single drop of blood trickled from her nose, coloring marble skin as though it had fallen on fresh snow. Elsewhere, the cuts and bruises from his brief offensive were already sealing up, fading away like the morning dew.
"Imagine what you could do if you released your full potential," she said, her voice still soft, almost tender. "You fear for the Lilim, but it is an irrational concern, Shinji. They could be part of you, free from pain and suffering, or you could surrender yourself along with the rest and become one with me."
"Why would I do that?" he hissed, straining to free himself. He lashed out with his free hand, but the woman seemed to barely register his blows. "You want to kill them!"
"Kill them?" The White Woman's voice was incredulous as she stared at Shinji, a shocked expression on her face. "No, Shinji, I'm freeing them, doing what you could have done at the heart of Instrumentality. You of all people know of the pain and suffering they go through, and you let them continue on like that. Whenever I meet you again, it's invariably the same, with small differences here and there, and I plan on stopping it."
Shinji finally broke free, firing a barrage of Meteor Missiles as he flew back. The White Woman walked through the detonations, uncaring of the wounds inflicted upon her perfect form, still staring into his eyes.
"I was like you once," she said. "Weighted with a terrible burden, the Logos of the world thrust into my hands as I faced an inscrutable threat."
Images flooded Shinji's mind, searing themselves into his vision. He felt the world slip away from him, replaced with images and words from another. Stumbling back, he tried to focus, tried to dismiss whatever the woman was putting into his mind, but it was useless.
A girl sat at a desk stashed in the corner of what appeared to be a warehouse, hurriedly scribbling something unseen. She was no older than Shinji; much of her pre-adolescence lingered, even as she grew taller and longer limbed. She was tall for her height, with long curly hair that framed a narrow face.
The girl rose from her seat, and Shinji realized that she bore unnerving resemblance to the White Woman. What she used to be, perhaps, before obtaining godhood. Something loomed behind her, and Shinji saw that it was like Unit-01, only smaller. Turning around, the girl gazed at the form of the Evangelion before her, a wistful look on her face.
"Soon," she muttered.
Shinji blinked, dispelling the illusion, if only briefly. The White Woman watched him in an almost detached manner, arms folded across her chest. In a flash of light, Shinji was at full size, towering over everything in sight like a veritable colossus. Before he could do anything, however, the Woman matched him eye to eye, her chest glowing even brighter than before as she wrestled him back down to the ground. They both shrank back to human size, grappling with each other.
Unit-01 howled into the quiet night, blood splattered over its armor as it stood over the remains of its vanquished foe. An all too familiar sight, Shinji thought, but on a smaller scale, with a torn up street illustrating the events of a battle. With a pang of nausea, he saw that whatever Unit-01 had killed was once human; there was no denying the features on the lifeless face, dead eyes staring skyward.
Their AT-fields clashed, the smell of ozone reaching Shinji's nose as the White Woman reached for his chest, almost casually powering through the light of his soul. Her hand was changing, the fingers becoming long claws, and it began to turn a dull orange as it became unbearably hot.
Another familiar sight.
The vast chamber of the White Moon was laid out before him, like a massive tomb flooded with the blood of a god. Lilith hung in the center, crucified, the Lance of Longinus piercing her chest. Two figures stood before the mother of humanity, incomparably minuscule.
"This is where your visions indicated it'd be," a woman said. She was dark-skinned and dressed in a white dress, a lab coat draped over her shoulders. "Your knowledge, the things you've seen... they aren't agent-based; we know that to be true."
"I have to do this," the other figure said. It was the girl from before, but older; there was something behind her eyes, something sorrowful. "I tried making more S2 organs, but it's not working, now. My spark is gone, like whoever gave it to me wanted this to be the path I took. If it's the only chance we have of beating him..."
"Even with all our years of preparation, all the horrible things we did to just get a slight advantage, there's no hope of winning. It needs to be done."
The girl nodded solemnly, but said nothing else.
The scene shifted.
The girl was alone now, encased within the breast of Unit-01. The Evangelion lifted into the air of its own power, AT-field glittering as it rose to meet with its mother. It came to chest level, pausing as if to take in the awesome sight before it, then suddenly plunged into Lilith's chest, disappearing within the Seed's white flesh.
Welcome home, a voice whispered.
"I'm home," the girl whispered back.
The White Woman's hand plunged into Shinji's chest, tearing through his armor like wet tissue paper and stabbing deep into his flesh. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out as pain wracked his body. The hand delved deeper and deeper into him, soon coming halfway to the elbow.
She was as big as the sky.
The girl rose from beneath the ground, ephemeral, a phantom that could cross oceans with a step. All over the world, the seas ran red as the barriers between souls withered away before her will, humanity returning to the primordial chaos of creation as she took them within her breast.
A figure watched her. While the girl was alabaster, he was gold; while she was delicate and flawless, he was the pinnacle of perfection and strength. The golden man watched as the goddess before him was born, frowning.
The Woman saw him for all he was, past the veneer of humanity he presented, and hate blossomed in her heart, strengthened by five billion others. She extended her will, slipping through the vast eternity of Guf, until she found what she was looking for: a lifeless planet, wracked with a sea of hideous flesh.
With a wave of her hand, fire scoured the land, slowly working its way across the entire globe. She did not have to destroy all of it for the thing to die; just enough for the rest to be useless. The golden man came, a tendril protecting the real body, and she paid no heed to its attacks as she continued her work. At long last, the thing died, curling up about itself like a crushed insect as the life left its body.
The pretender was dead. A god was in her heaven once more; all was right with the world.
There was one last thing to do. Once more she travelled through Guf, until she came across another world, much like the one she had left behind. Blood-red waves lapped at a dead shore, and a boy kneeled over a girl, weeping. With dawning horror, Shinji realized that the boy was him.
The Woman stood over them, hanging motionless in the air. A flawless arm raised, as if to touch them, and they became one with her as well.
For some time, she simply stood on the shore, watching the waves caress her bare feet. Then, slowly, she drifted upwards and disappeared, leaving the broken world behind.
There was much work to be done.
Shinji found clarity again. The White Woman stared at him intently, curiously, even as she reached into his chest cavity.
"Do you see now?" she asked.
"Y-you're going around, eating Instrumentality," Shinji groaned, trying to push her off. The White Woman ignored his struggles. "You're absorbing everyone into you; not just on your world, but every world like it."
A nod.
"W-why?"
When I ascended to join the ranks of the First Ones, to join them in godhood, I learned the great secret of the universe." She leaned in close, as if to kiss him, white hair resting on his helmet.
"Somewhere, there is a boy with a typewriter."
Her hand found his core, and Shinji felt an agony like never before. She grasped it fully in her distorted hand, and prepared to pluck it from his chest like a prized fruit.
Suddenly, the White Woman disappeared in a violent gust of wind, leaving behind a shredded hand. Shinji took the opportunity to pull it out of his chest, willing himself to heal the damage. Even with that, the pain was too much, and he found himself slipping towards unconsciousness.
"Are you alright?"
Someone else stood over him, peering at his wound with concerned blue eyes. She appeared to be dressed in a blue bodysuit, vaguely armored, with red boots that crunched the scorched earth underfoot. What caught Shinji's attention the most, however, was the strangely familiar symbol on her chest.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"S-shinji," he gasped in reply. "W-who are you?"
The woman knelt down beside him, propping him upright.
"I'm Superwoman."
S
The boy looked at me with wide eyes, then fainted. Glancing back at the core in his chest, I saw that it was still active; he was alive, albeit barely.
"Come on," I muttered, gently slapping him on the cheek in hopes of waking him up. When that didn't work, I stood up, dusting off my knees. In the distance, I could see that the boy's attacker had recovered from my supersonic shoulder-dash, her own core spinning violently as her hand regenerated with alarming speed. One didn't need a hundred different kinds of vision to see the sheer power she wielded as she turned to glare at me.
That wasn't what had me concerned, however.
What concerned me was the fact that she had my face.
There were differences, of course. For one, I wasn't naked or glowing white, and the other me was far more delicate in comparison to my own physique. Her soul-aura was like nothing I had ever seen before, extending around her in all directions like a protective shield. I received another shock when I peered closer at her on the molecular level, and saw human DNA, not Kryptonian.
"So, the false one has arrived," the other me hissed, her voice becoming inhumanly distorted. "The alien that wears my skin and pretends to be what she isn't."
"What are you doing here?" I demanded, balling my fists as I prepared for a possible fight.
"Complementation," came the reply. The other me straightened, her core glowing even brighter as she gently rose to the air. "Do not try to stop it, Kryptonian; you're already too late."
With that, she disappeared, vanishing into thin air before I could reach her. It wasn't like other teleporters I had encountered; there was a brief flash in the Source, then she was gone.
I scanned my surroundings, but found no trace of her; she had probably regrouped with the other invaders on their ship. All over, I could see the attackers being forced back, now that me and the core Leaguers had arrived. Colin had joined the shapeshifter and their companions, and was helping them evacuate back to their base of operations, while Dragon was fighting off some bizarre looking creatures on the coast. In the distance, Godzilla was-
I blinked a few times in surprise. Godzilla. The most famous movie monster ever was before my very eyes, more impressive than the old films could ever make him out to be. And it appeared that Gamera was also with him, fighting in tandem against some giant with a sword.
I paused to digest that particular bit of information before turning back to the injured boy on the ground. Already his wounds were healing at an alarming rate, his core glowing fiercely across the entire electromagnetic spectrum as energy flowed through his veins. Stooping down, I gently hefted him into my arms.
"Come on, Shinji, we have to go," I said, taking to the air. "We have a regrouping point; I'm taking you there."
Shinji nodded weakly, but said nothing else.
Something sounded behind me, and I turned around to find a spiky quadruped the size of a building tilting its head curiously at me. It made a small honking sound, as if it was trying to ask me a question. It's aura was surprising complex; it was almost at human-level. One of Godzilla's friends, most likely.
"We need to go," I called aloud, feeling silly even as I said it.
To my surprise, it understood. Whirling about, it carved a path through the jungle, making for the evacuation point. I raced ahead to where Dragon was ushering people through the portal. Colin was there as well, conversing with Louis. A man in red robes stood nearby, as well as some massive combat suit shaped like a casket with legs. Peering through its armor, I saw the broken body of a man inside.
Colin turned to me as I settled down on the ground. "More?"
I nodded, gently letting Shinji land on his feet. "Godzilla and Gamera are covering us, apparently."
"I'd never expect those words to come from your mouth," Colin deadpanned. "What the hell have we gotten into?"
==/*\==
No. It couldn't be happening; there was no way they could defeat him and his Legion...
Barachiel swung his sword upwards at Godzilla's throat, ignoring the dull ache that seemed to seep into his bones. Before the blade could sink into the beast's char-black flesh, the kaiju king caught it in his hand, paying no heed to the bright red blood trickling down the adamantine edge, and rewarded the Primarch's efforts with a swipe to the head. Barachiel stumbled back with a crack of ceramite, his helmet shattered, and tasted blood in his mouth.
The battle was turning the worst for his Legion. The turtle-like beast, the one they called Gamera, was carving a bloody path through the creatures Darkseid had lent him. A pair of bony blades had emerged from the kaiju's wrist, like curved scimitars longer than the Primarch's own, and they were already slick with blue ichor as hacked and slashed at the alien monsters, slicing through their flesh like mincemeat. Fire swelled up within Gamera's throat, and it opened fire, blasting away the entire upper half of an unfortunate creature.
Godzilla roared, a horrible sound, one filled with fury and rage that the Primarch could never begin to conceive. The King of the Monsters pressed his advantage, his clawed fists a blur as they pummeled Barachiel, denting and ripping away the finest armor the 31st could produce. The Primarch lashed out with a blow of his own, only for Godzilla to catch his hand. There was a brief pause as the kaiju king stared into Barachiel's eyes, then he squeezed, shattering all the bones in the Primarch's hand like delicate china.
Barachiel screamed. He channeled his psyker might, trying to fry the beast, the monster before him with Warp lightning, but Godzilla seemed to barely register it as his spines flared up with a now-familiar blue light. Atomic fire shot out of his maw and struck Barachiel in the shoulder, slagging the Primarch's armor, then burning through flesh as the beam shot through to the other side. Pain spiked through Barachiel's brain like he had never experienced before, threatening to drag him into unconsciousness.
Godzilla lifted the Primarch by his ruined arm, fiery orange eyes burning into Barachiel's own, then heaved. Barachiel flew overhead, eventually coming down on the beach a good half-kilometer away, a massive cloud of sand rising from where he landed.
His shattered hand stayed in Godzilla's grasp.
The Primarch howled in agony, a hand clenched over the charred stump where his arm used to be. Warm blood flowed through his fingers, and he could see spots swarming in his field of vision as he struggled to remain awake. Never before, in all his centuries of life, had he ever felt so broken, so defeated. Godzilla marched towards him, dropping his arm like it was nothing more than trash, spines alight with unholy flame. A Stormbird flew into view, pelting the beast with bolter rounds, only for it to be swatted down near-casually.
Barachiel slowly rose to his feet, letting his good arm fall to his side. Death was coming for him, clad in the form of a great black dragon with fire in its eyes and hate in its breast. After campaigning on countless worlds and bringing a good portion of the galaxy under heel, he would die on a foreign Terra, at the hands of a mere beast.
Not if you let us in, a voice whispered in his mind. Not if you embrace us.
He blinked, convinced that he was hallucinating from blood loss, then realized just who was speaking to him.
"N-never," he croaked, spitting out a glob of blood. "I will not become one of your pawns."
All will die and decay, whether it be by axe or by infirmity. You, too, will be no more, your ashes forgotten. But you can choose how. Let us in, and you will be more powerful than you ever dreamed.
Godzilla was before him now, nuclear fire welling in his chest as he loomed over the Primarch. Behind the kaiju king, he could see his Legion blasted and torn asunder by the one they called Gamera.
You fight gods. Why not have the favor of others?
In that moment, he decided.
"Blood for the blood god," he rasped.
Power and knowledge flooded into him, horrid and wrong and beautiful. He could have laughed as he felt strength flow through his veins, crackling under his skin like a swarm of hornets. He stepped forward, ready to finally wreak his vengeance on the animal that dared to challenge him-
-and found himself back in his throne room.
"What?!" he snarled, furiously looking about him. Darkseid and the White Woman were standing aside one another, nonplussed looks on their faces. He stomped towards them, wrath bubbling in his chest, only for a barrier of orange light to block his way.
"YOU DID THIS!" he howled, spittle pattering against the barrier as he frothed ineffectually at the gods before him. "You took me away from the fight, just when I was going to tear-"
"We saved your life," Darkseid finished quietly, his red eyes boring holes in the Primarch. "She arrived."
"The Kryptonian," the White Woman said. "She fought me off when I was about to secure my prize."
"Then I'll kill her, too," Barachiel growled.
A smirk formed on Darkseid's stony face. "I am glad to see you have opened yourself up to certain... opportunities, Primarch. But do not be a fool; challenging them all at once would be suicidal at this point."
"My Legion-"
"-are aboard as well, having their wounds attended to. We are retreating from both worlds to recoup our losses and rebuild."
"Well, there is one last thing to do," the White Woman said. "It won't take long."
With that, she disappeared.
S
Chichi-jima
As it turns out, trying to fit a hundred-meter-tall radioactive dinosaur through a portal meant for people is easier than done.
Dragon upped the power to the generator, trying to widen the portal as much as possible. It managed to grow bigger, enough that a small army could easily fit through it. Godzilla - my mind still did double takes whenever it thought of him - crouched down to peer through, eyes narrowed. His breath was hot and damp as he snorted derisively, and I made a mental note to wash my suit when this was all over.
"Come on," a young Japanese woman urged, actually walking up to the giant monster and laying a hand on his chin. "You need to do this. The asteroid storage bay's large enough to fit all of you."
Godzilla's eye fell on the woman, and I could see his frustration slowly fade. There was some strange activity in the Source between them, and I realized they had to have some special link. Had he reverse-imprinted on her, viewing her as kin?
Whatever it was, it worked. He crawled through, nearly knocking over the casket-cyborg with his tail in the process. The other kaiju followed suit, making far less of a fuss as they did so. Gamera was the last one to go through, an almost sad look in his all-too-human eyes.
"That's the last of them," a burly man with a katana said.
"ABOUT FUCKING TIME," the casket-cyborg bellowed, forcing Amy to cover her ears next to me. "THAT WAS ALMOST AS PAINFUL AS PULLING A CHAINSWORD THROUGH YOUR DICK."
"Charming fellow," Dragon deadpanned.
"DAMN STRAIGHT." The cyborg stomped through next, waving its stubby arms as it entered the ship. "COMPARED TO THE OTHER IDIOTS I HAVE TO LIVE WITH, I'M FUCKING CASANOVA."
Louis turned to me. "Let's head in, shall we?"
I nodded. "Okay."
Just as we started for the portal, however, a bright flash of light flared up in the distance. Whirling about, I saw a figure rise from the ground, miles away.
The other me.
It was something more felt than seen. Her aura flickered and shifted, becoming alarmingly complex as it spread out to encompass the entire globe. She grew, rising higher and higher until it looked as though she could pluck the Moon from the sky. As soon as I realized what was happening, it was too late.
She was drawing the world's auras, the world's souls, into herself, all of them swirling into the red expanse of her core. Her crimson eyes locked with me, even across such a vast distance, and I could see the knowing smirk on her face.
It ended as quickly as it had begun, and she was gone once more.
Silence reigned on the island. I turned to Louis, feeling the color drain out of my face. He returned the empty look as the realization settled in.
"Shinji can't be told what happened," the man with the katana interjected. "He can't. We'll get them back; we've done it before, and we can do it again."
"Instrumentality," Dragon said. "Like from that show..."
"We'll talk about it later," Colin said. "We have enough to handle as it is; I don't want that kind of discussion get in the way."
I nodded slowly. "I understand."
With that, we made for the portal, and it closed behind us.
You have been reading:
CRISIS, Chapter Four: All Out Attack, Part Two