Covenant Red
Chapter 5: Steel
Disclaimer: I do not own Evangelion.
/\/\/\/\
He missed.
"You suck at this," she said.
He missed again.
"You really suck at this."
He missed again.
"You really, really suck at—"
"I know I suck at this!" Kensuke snapped.
Asuka eyed him stoically. "And this is how you act after you begged me to train you."
"You were assigned to train me!"
"You were so happy, I assumed you whined for it until Katsuragi capitulated."
They were in one of WILLE's massive training rooms, featuring an enclosed firing range for long-range weaponry. The space was cleared for live ammunition use, only Asuka and Kensuke in a booth across from a series of targets. They both wore noise-cancelling headphones with a shared communications channel.
Kensuke was prone on the ground, tenderly cradling the heft of a sniper rifle. He was clad in his newly issued WILLE combat suit, dark like the other Children's but with subdued orange piping. He was surprised to find it comfortable and fluid, moving with him rather than against. The sense of cool he felt after posing before the locker room mirror evaporated under Asuka's half-second inspection and subsequent snort of dismissal.
His relationship with Instructor Soryu did not deviate from past interactions, save that her sense of superiority now had a clearly definable source. He anticipated a firm, guiding hand driving him to success. He received several punches in the ego.
Kensuke forced an annoyed breath past his lips. "It was a direct order from our Commander, so you could at least try to follow it."
"I would if I had anything to work with," Asuka stated. "Any fool can pass the sim tests. WILLE's standards keep getting lowered."
The past few weeks were a blur of escalating VR simulation drills, culminating in his "graduation" to real weapons and live ammo. After the initial tinge of fearful excitement at handling actual arms, bored repetition firmly set in, followed by crushing humiliation as he took to the target gallery.
He knew surpassing Soryu was impossible thanks to her blood skill, but his VR scores were passable and he figured determination would cover the rest to make a decent impression on her.
He missed once again. She issued a thoroughly bored sound.
"You're the one with pinpoint eyesight, right?"
"Just because I can see the target doesn't mean it's easy to hit it!" He peered back through the scope, carefully shifting the weight of the rifle fractions of fractions. He breathed, aimed, and fired. The bullet pinged off the edge of the target. "Ha! Got it!"
"You missed the kill zone," Asuka reported dully. "Meaning you failed to eliminate the threat and gave away your position to boot. Congratulations."
"Damn it, I am trying, you know…"
"What are you going to do now? Pout? Go cry in the corner, you big baby."
"I don't cry," Kensuke said. "I'm a man."
Asuka snorted. "You're a kid."
"I'm a man."
"Then you're a caveman. Maybe I should get you a big club to clobber the targets with. But knowing you, you'd still miss at point blank range."
"Well I can't imagine you're any worse at giving instructions for clubs than you are for guns!"
Kensuke's unique and valuable ability to detect the enemy's weak point, combined with his utter lack of military training, consigned him to the periphery of the battlefield. Not that he was complaining. He still suffered nightmares about the acidic Nephilim that destroyed his old home.
But he remained a member of the team and looked forward to proving his mettle in combat. From far, far away, behind the relative safety of a sniper scope with a VTOL hovering nearby for a speedy withdrawal. Despite all that he did want to show he wasn't a waste of humanity and a complete drag on WILLE. Freak Accident seemed to be his nickname around base, or at least that was what Asuka liked to tell him. Accidental or not, he was a Child, like she was. There was no reason he couldn't succeed as well.
A fresh target rose before his sights across the firing range. He settled back into prone position, ran through a final check for the gun and loaded. He peered through the scope.
Kensuke felt a stubborn weight get comfortable on his head. He tried to swallow his anger. He really did. Asuka's heel continued to push against his scalp with an unwavering, placid pressure. Kensuke threw his hands from the rifle.
"That's it!"
He sprang up and waved his arms. Asuka calmly retracted her leg and eyed him.
"What's the matter?" she asked. "I was correcting your posture."
"With your foot?"
"I'll get a stick."
"You can get a new attitude!" It sounded a lot cooler in his head. Over the comm. channel it came out crackly and petulant. But he was committed now. "I won't work like this. I'm done for the day."
"But there's still so much wall for you to pepper with bullets."
Kensuke was halfway to the secure checkpoint on his way to the locker room. "Then report me! I don't care!" He switched off the headset, determined to have the last word.
He shed his armor. He crept to the tram exit. None of the other WILLE personnel he saw stopped him. He pushed away the guilt coiling around him. Sure, he was the rookie. Sure, he had a lot to learn. Sure, he should respect seniority. And sure, storming out of the lesson would not solve any problems he was upset about. But it felt good to blame someone else for his disappointing showing.
Cutting one day short would not end the world. He sat alone in the tram, determined to ignore the repercussions of his actions, as the steady clatter of tracks and winking lights of the underground tunnel relaxed him into a sour stew of self-righteous indignation. His scowl melted to a frown, his crossed arms slid to his sides. He wished he hadn't told Soryu to report him.
/\/\/\/\
The tram jolted to a halt. Kensuke hauled himself from the window and departed into the city's main hub. The shifting mass of human traffic spread before him on multiple levels of coordinated, single-minded activity.
This did not seem like a city under siege. Aside from scanners in government buildings and train stations there was no visible military presence to defend the public's peace of mind. WILLE appeared to handle things completely in the shadows, using a separate PR board to coordinate with the local authorities to establish evacuation shelters and curfews, along with reconstruction efforts.
Toji and Asuka seemed content with playing hero without any public recognition. Kensuke was slowly resigning himself to the same. He didn't imagine parades or talk show notoriety but a thank you would be nice.
What was left of his WILLE stipend would have to do. He set out determined to spend his worries away. The capital's shopping district was mostly confined to a sprawling area to the south of the main train terminal. It was a gratefully short trip from the base's private tram to a myriad distracting storefronts promising conspicuous consumption as a panacea.
Kensuke was tired, but still adequately offended to skip collapsing straight into bed. He needed to release some angry tension in a socially acceptable way. And he found himself desiring some real world human interaction after extended stays in WILLE's underground tomb. Even if that interaction was as an anonymous face in a sea of anonymous shoppers.
The month was almost over, and his WILLE stipend was dwindling. He passed by electronic stores and movie theaters, instead settling on the cheap comforting confines of a video arcade to drown his frustrations in. He walked by a bank of sim gun cabinets without a second glance. He longed for a time when target practice was simple, fun, and confined to the video game spectrum. It was a private, devastating disappointment to discover his FPS twitch skills were of no practical use with real guns.
He rubbed his sore arms. And real guns were so heavy. And precise. Completely user-unfriendly. Just like his instructor. Why couldn't Soryu just be hot and awesome? Why did she have to be so negative and condescending? Why was she determined to belittle his every effort? Why did his efforts have to fail?
Why was he still thinking about it? Kensuke refocused on the here and now, getting reacquainted with the arcade's sticky floors and tacky decor. It became a welcoming friend as he learned to manage his stipend between necessities including food, clothing and games.
He wanted to hunch over a quiet, dark cabinet and play until he forgot what he was so upset about. Kensuke was three stages into a 2-D tournament fighter when a shadow fell over his shoulder. He shifted to allow more light, and the shadow moved to block it. The shadow cleared its throat. The shadow tapped his arm.
He sighed, letting the match end in his defeat. "There are free machines over there," he said, gesturing vaguely on his way to insert another token.
"I know." A hand stopped him from restarting the game. "I need you for a minute."
Kensuke finally turned. The girl was older, judging by her height and demeanor. She carried herself with a casual confidence, owning her jeans, camouflage tee and aviator sunglasses without obnoxiously demanding attention. She smiled at him.
"Huh?" he responded.
"I need you. So let's go."
She dragged him away with a surprising strength towards a bulky full immersion system. Kensuke knew the game, and the price.
"I'm not spending six tokens on a single game," he complained.
The girl opened her purse. It was filled to the zipper with tokens. "I've got it covered."
They arrived at the 2v2 game deck featuring enclosed seats fashioned like mecha cockpits. Its undeniable coolness was offset by its expense and the open humiliation of trying to crest the steep learning curve in public. When two teams did accept the challenge it became an event, drawing other patrons to observe via a large screen on the wall. Already people were gathered around, issuing catcalls as Kensuke was lugged forward by the girl.
Two boys broke from the crowd. They possessed the smarmy teenage confidence of sharks circling a doomed weight loss cruise.
"This is your ace in the hole?" one asked, pointing at Kensuke. "And here I was actually worried."
"No backing out when you lose," the other said. "We have a room full of witnesses."
The girl did not respond to her opponents, instead shoving Kensuke into the red team second seat before sliding into the one beside him. He opened his mouth to complain and she fixed him with a steely gaze.
Virtuous offense tumbled out of him anyway. "This is what you needed me for? Some virtual spitting contest?"
With one hand the girl held Kensuke in place by the arm, with the other she inserted the necessary tokens to start the game.
"I sort of made a bet with those guys," she explained. The game select screen appeared. She chose the sniper mech load out for Kensuke. She picked a close combat model for herself. "One game, winner take all. If I win, their cash is mine. If I lose, I go out with them."
The loading screen began counting down from twenty.
"What were you thinking?" Kensuke demanded as the first tremors of panic shivered his hands.
"I had no choice! They would not stop flirting with me." She sounded like beauty was an insufferable burden around her long, elegant neck. "There I was, minding my own business at the UFO catcher, when Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dumbass over there start in with 'baby' this and 'honey' that and—"
Loading finished.
"Why choose this game?"
The girl's demeanor shifted from cute teen to soldier of fortune.
"Because I cannot lose."
The urban combat landscape rezzed to life. The girl's hands deftly worked the control levers.
"I'm going in," she said.
Damn it all. Kensuke tried to remember how to play. It was months since he mustered enough courage and money to sit in the cockpit. He fumbled with the various pedals, sticks and buttons, letting his innate intuitiveness work through the bout of shock at the surprise drafting.
He glanced beside him. The girl was fast and knew the terrain, zipping from hidden ammo caches to hiding spots before Kensuke remembered how to walk.
"Pick a vantage point with cover," the girl advised casually. "A high spot with at least two escape routes. Remember to litter some mines to cover your rear."
"Oh, right."
An attractive girl was issuing orders rather than insults. All felt right with the world.
The opposing blue team was focused on the girl entirely, sticking together to make methodical sweeps of the streets and avoid ambush. It didn't matter. The girl surprised them with a series of lightning quick strikes followed by even faster retreats. She poked Kensuke in the arm after the third one.
"You're in position, right?" she asked. "Hit them when I force them into the open."
Indeed, her attacks were timed to push them from cover, based on his location atop a hill outside the city. The kind of situational awareness that spoke of, even on a virtual battlefield, was professional.
"Learn the enemy movement and use the terrain options against them," she told him. "Force them into your sights. Pick your shot. Aim to kill."
Kensuke found the enemies in his scope. He learned the rhythm of the girl's attacks, synching it with his breath. His enemies became predictable, helpless targets.
He fired. The shot lanced the torso of a blue team member, and the girl quickly mopped up his meager remaining life points.
"Nice!" she congratulated him as their victim exploded in a digital fireball.
Kensuke relaxed into a warm confidence. At least he could still snipe in a video game.
The surviving blue enemy fired randomly in panicked fury. The girl swept behind him and depleted his health bar with a shotgun to the back of the head. The match was over.
The crowd howled at the upset, then broke into derisive cheers as the boys emptied their wallets into the girl's waiting hands, leaning out of the cockpit.
"I had a great time, too!" she called after them.
Kensuke stayed in his seat as the mob dispersed, watching the girl swiftly count, sort and stow her winnings. Despite the calm, practiced dexterity of her hands her mouth was twisted into a manic grin of unbridled avarice. He held a sudden insight to try and stay on her good side.
The money disappeared into her purse and she sighed pleasantly, before remembering she wasn't alone in the dual cockpit. She took her sunglasses off. Bright green eyes sparkled at him.
"Thanks for the backup. You're pretty good, kid."
He liked the way she said that word. It wasn't the debilitating putdown Asuka threw at him.
"Thanks," he responded. "I've gotten a lot of practice lately."
"You sound miserable about that. Don't despair. Snipers are an underrated lot. You need patience, precision, concentration and a dash of luck." She sent him a wink. "All good things for a guy to have."
It flew over his head. "I guess."
"I'm sorry," she said. "I never introduced myself. I'm Mana Kirishima. Pleased to meet you, my dear lifesaving sniper."
"I'm Kensuke Aida. Glad I could help you out." He cleared his throat as he nodded towards her bulging purse. "So, do I get a cut, teammate?"
"Nope." Mana gracefully slid out of the cockpit seat and stretched. "But let's get a soda. You've earned that, at least."
She led him to a bistro outside the arcade in an open courtyard. They sat at a small table beneath the clear blue sky. The girl drained a quarter of her ice cream float in seconds. Kensuke did his absolute best to ignore the bead of liquid on her smiling lips, and the quick pink flash of tongue as she licked it away.
"So," he tried, "do you go to school outside the city? I've never seen you around here before."
"Mmm hmm," she hummed while nodding. "Good, good. Starting out casual. Nothing too personal, along with the implication you'd remember me. I've underestimated you."
"Huh?"
"Actually, I'm a working girl," Mana lamented. "Fresh out of high school. University was outside my pay range so I joined the distinguished ranks of the wage slave."
"I don't think there's anything wrong with that. Um, having a job is better than not, right?"
"That's one way to look at it. I'm always interested in how other people see things." She stared at him with a relaxed eagerness, shutting out the rest of the world. "So. How do those speckled eyes see things?"
"Pretty well."
"Mmm. We'll see." She stirred her drink. "You mentioned you had a lot of practice at sniping lately? You didn't sound too enthused."
"Yeah. I'm new to town and my team, er, the people I play with now already have defined roles. I'm sort of confined to long distance support." Kensuke smiled to himself. "It's fine. I mean, one of them is definitely suited for close-combat, and the other can do anything she wants, so it makes sense I am where I am."
Mana finished her float. "Don't give up hope," she told him. "You may be a rookie among vets, but you said it yourself: you're part of a team. Each player needs to learn to work together to function efficiently and effectively. Keep practicing and you'll get better. I'm sure they'll recognize you.
"I meant what I said earlier," she went on. "Snipers are underrated but can be an essential force on the battlefield. Just like in our game. Remember your worth, and your power."
"Um… Thanks?"
"Sure thing." She glanced at her wrist and stood. "Ah, look at the time. My boss is pretty relaxed about schedules but I'm still technically the new girl, you know?" Mana let him have one last smile as she turned. "Be seeing you, Mr. Sniper."
Kensuke stayed in his seat and watched her go. He wondered if he should have asked for her phone number.
"Ahem."
He looked up. One of the bistro's waiters appeared at his side, graciously holding out a hand with a bill. It took a moment for the situation to sink in. He fished out his skeletal wallet.
Damn, he thought. That was pretty cool.
/\/\/\/\
Even with the noise cancelling headphones each shot was a startling sharpness. The recoil shivered through him, forcing him to realign his sights after every round. The reorientation became part of the routine. Even Instructor Soryu's heckling was absorbed into making the next shot count. Every round was a fresh chance at improvement.
It felt like grinding for XP in an RPG. A repetitive but necessary road towards empowerment. The past week's road was smoother than previous paths, travelling at a measured, stable pace. Slow and steady won the race, he told himself over Asuka's repeated complaints. If he kept pushing ahead eventually it would work out favorably.
He emptied the magazine and held a blind hand out for another.
"Next," he requested.
Asuka dropped another to him. "Where is this sudden fount of confident dedication springing from? Your scores do not justify it."
He reloaded. "I'm in a high-tech underground fortress training with real weapons. Why wouldn't I be in a good mood? My scores will catch up eventually."
"I never taught you to believe such groundless optimism. That kind of attitude will get somebody killed. What you need is hard work. A lot of it. Then maybe we'll find a use for you."
"Snipers are an underrated lot," Kensuke recalled. "We need patience, precision, concentration and a dash of luck."
"Or just a powerful voyeuristic streak," Asuka said. "That seems right up your alley."
After spending extended periods of time with Asuka, he began to sense her sharp tongue was often employed not out of genuine spite but of a world-weary exhaustion, a tired reflex against a less than perfect reality that failed to meet her high standards.
His previous irritation with her was all but forgotten. Although she seemed incapable of doing the same.
"I'm training you to be a sniper," she complained when they met after his blow-up. "Not a whiny little bitch."
At least she finally stopped calling him Ms. Aida.
But even that was okay, in a way. He remembered how cool she was, and how uncool the world was. If he could, somehow, attain a glimmer of success in her eyes, then maybe reality would be slightly less harsh for her.
"Hey," he said. "Some encouragement, or at least acknowledgment of my improvement, wouldn't kill you, you know."
"I'm not willing to risk it."
The training session continued. Kensuke worked with blithe good cheer, battering his frustrations down beneath a patient determination to improve and impress. Kirishima's gentle advice and encouragement bolstered his efforts.
The day ended with a score skating the average line. He was filled with buoyant joy. Asuka reacted like he spat in her coffee.
"I can't believe I'm wasting my time with this nonsense."
"Don't think of it as a waste," he said as he stood and stretched. "My scores keep ticking upward and I'm more comfortable with the weapon. Uh, and of course you've been a huge help. Thanks."
She rolled her eyes in dismissal. "I don't need gratitude for babysitting while you play a game."
Kensuke gestured to the very real rifle at his feet. "Doesn't look like a game to me."
"Target practice is playing pretend in a vacuum," she said, walking away. "Until you can eliminate a real enemy in actual combat all the training in the world won't matter."
"Then how am I supposed to prove to you I've gotten better?"
"I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities for you to fail at that." Asuka kept walking. "It's late. We'll pick up again on Tuesday."
"Why not tomorrow?"
His WILLE practice schedule was uniformly brutal, stealing any daylight hours not already consigned to school in the effort to get him up to speed. Soryu would never give him the green light personally, so his field readiness was determined by a series of benchmarks set by the Commander. As it stood, he still had weeks of training until he was cleared for battle. Kensuke's renewed hope reminded him every day mattered.
"One day won't matter," Asuka told him through a yawn. "It's some dumb national holiday, so we don't have school, either."
"Commander Katsuragi won't like that."
"She left this to my discretion. Stop arguing."
Soryu must truly be tired, Kensuke thought. She stopped insulting me.
She opted for escape instead and he watched her exit the training room. It was indeed late, and while he preferred to spend as much time with her as possible to gain chances to impress, he had to admit he was weary as well.
Tuesday, then, he promised, and ran after her to change. If he hurried, maybe he'd catch the tram back to the city with her.
/\/\/\/\
Toji didn't answer his cell on the day off. That killed Kensuke's hopes of catching a movie or hanging out to play some video games. Toji never invited him to his own apartment, remaining tight-lipped regarding family life. Kensuke didn't even know if he had parents or siblings.
The idea of sitting alone all day struck him sour, so he rolled out of bed around eleven and headed downtown for lunch. He wandered the crowded shopping and entertainment districts afterwards, hoping something would catch his eyes.
Eventually he found himself back at one of the arcades dotting the area and decided to waste some time and money inside. He shook his head as he passed a row of gun cabinets, disappointed with the players' postures and liberal expenditure of ammo. Then again, it was only a game, and they didn't have redheaded instructors in their ears detailing their failures. Soryu favored a tough love approach of "don't show, don't tell," letting him figure out what worked and what didn't. It didn't strike him as the most efficient teaching method but it did inspire him to improve. His incremental progress was made that much sweeter.
Kensuke stopped short. He spied Mana with a boy as they finished a head-to-head rhythm dance game. Her near perfect score easily topped his. She held out a patient hand and collected her reward from the devastated boy's wallet. He slumped further as she turned to leave with a glowing smile and a wink.
"Oh!" Mana startled, seeing Kensuke. She headed over, stealthily pocketing her newfound wealth. "My chivalrous Mr. Sniper. Fancy meeting you here."
He crossed his arms as he peered at her. "Yeah. Fancy that. Having a good time?"
"I can't complain. That's a lie. I really could. I mean, I can't go five minutes without some guy hitting on me. Arcades should be romance-free zones. I'm here to train, not to be wooed." She tossed her short hair.
Kensuke frowned. "I suddenly get the feeling you used me."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"It wouldn't have mattered who you got to play with you the other day. I was just along for the ride. You hustled those guys."
"Hustled?" Mana repeated. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."
"A pretty girl picks a fight with a pair of idiots, feigning ignorance about games, draws a crowd, then trounces said idiots to make a quick fistful of yen. With so many witnesses, they can't back out or give you trouble. You are an arcade hustler."
"You think I'm pretty?" she asked, posing cutely with practiced embarrassment. "Oh, stop. You'll make me blush."
Kensuke was unmoved. "There's no off button, is there?"
Mana shrugged. "Those guys had it coming. Like I told you, I was minding my own business but boys see a hot chick and the blood stops flowing to their brains. It was a lesson to make them, if not think with their brains, then at least think with their wallets."
"It seems you only think with your wallet."
"I can't help that," she said. "I have to survive. The government doesn't give me any real spending money. They'll buy a fleet of shiny new VTOLs at the drop of a hat but ask them for a slight standard of living increase and they moan about budget shortfalls."
Kensuke stared at her. "Government?"
"Yeah," Mana said breezily as she crossed her hands behind her head. "I work for the defense ministry. I'm an assistant to the UN liaison." She watched him. "Something the matter?"
"Uh, no. No." He knew he was sweating. "Just, ah, you seem kind of, um, young for a position like that."
"I didn't sleep my way in, if that's what you're implying."
"No! Of course not—"
"Although now that you mention it, maybe there was a sexual warfare angle. But, you know, it is nothing like the movies, with femme fatales seducing secrets from foreign officials."
"I was not thinking that at all!"
He was thinking more about WILLE's tenuous relationship with the UN, and the overt hostility displayed by Soryu and the Commander. He doubted either would approve of him fraternizing with Kirishima.
"It's actually rather dull most of the time," she went on. "Paperwork, staff meetings, debriefing after debriefing and more paperwork. But that's the real world sometimes. Truth can be boring.
"This," she indicated with a flip of her hand, pooling together the arcade, players and her honey pot scheme, "isn't real. It's fun and games. When you're in the real world, truth is all that matters. People deserve to know the truth. You deserve to know the truth."
"Wh-What are you talking about?"
"I don't want you feeling like I lied to you or anything. You should know who I am. You should know the people around you." Mana smiled. "You're cute. But you're also a national security risk. WILLE, or whatever they're calling themselves these days, doesn't put stock in truth."
Kensuke went cold.
"Ever wonder why the public can't know about them?" she asked.
"They said it was to avoid panic," he mumbled. The cat was out of the bag now, no use in trying to play dumb. There was a stubborn desire to defend WILLE, too. He figured he owed them something.
"That's just how they keep control. Information is power. The fewer people who have it, the more powerful they are. How about why only kids can be given Nephilim blood without going nuts or dying? Or where the Nephilim come from?"
Kensuke twisted his mouth shut. Admittedly, WILLE told him "it's classified" to the majority of his questions. He figured they probably had a decent reason, even if it was unfair. But he was an outsider stumbling into the middle of a war. Like with Soryu, he had to earn trust.
"Who cares?" he finally said. "Yeah, there's stuff I don't know, but monsters are attacking us, and WILLE's fighting them. Why wouldn't I help out if I can?" He hoped that sounded manly enough.
Mana just sighed. "It's sad to see their indoctrination firsthand. Your head is buried in the sand." She looked at him with a sudden fondness he wasn't prepared for. "You can't keep it there forever. You'll see the world for yourself one day."
"I—"
His phone vibrated twice, his new customized alert from HQ. Without thinking he pulled it out.
"Yeah?" he asked, still peering at Mana.
"A Nephilim has been detected outside the city," Aoba told him. "Get to drop point, er, get to the southern train station. We have transport waiting."
Kensuke put the phone away. "I'm sorry," he said, "I have to go. Uh, family emergency."
"I hope everything is okay…"
The evacuation siren sounded. The crowded shopping district around them instantly reorganized and began flooding towards the downtown shelters. Mana stayed where she was as Kensuke began edging away from the crowd. She wore a strange face of regret.
"Be careful out there, Mr. Sniper."
/\/\/\/\
Two-story high, pointed legs held a suspended black orb, cracking the asphalt underneath with every step. The Nephilim made its way into the evacuated city without urgency.
I thought they were supposed to look human, Kensuke thought. Inhuman things with human form was how the Commander first described them. This was an abstract monstrosity.
"I don't see any eyes," he said from his station in a VTOL, peering through his binoculars. "I won't be able to tell when it uses blood skill."
"What about its AT field?" Ritsuko asked.
"I don't see that either."
"Then let's finish this," Asuka said. "It ruined my day off."
She selected a WILLE-modified assault rifle from a collection of waiting arms, allowed her blood skill to activate, then spun out from behind a delivery truck. She and Toji stalked forward, car to car, from opposite sides of the eight-lane wide street. The Nephilim showed no sign of hostility as it calmly strode towards them.
"What do we go with this time?" Toji asked over the comm. "I don't think I can hit a car that high."
"This one's mine," Asuka said.
She stepped away from cover and opened fire. Her volley struck the black orb and it burst open, splattering viscous ink across the street. The legs stopped moving. The Nephilim stood still, dripping black between its feet.
"Did I get it?"
Tendrilling fingers sprouted from the ink stain, curling together to form spears that bent and raced towards Asuka's position. She reflexively held the rifle up to block as she tried to roll away. The spears tore through the weapon and sped past Asuka, slicing open her left arm.
"Soryu!"
The spears swept towards her, collecting and hurling her body across the street. She impacted the side of a parked sedan, shattering the windows and making the car jump on two wheels. Asuka collapsed to the ground in a heap.
"Son of a bitch," Toji snarled, running forward and activating his blood skill.
The spears dissolved and new ones formed from the remaining Nephilim blood pool. They converged on Toji's position too fast for him to evade. He brought his arms up to block, shifting his ability to absorb the blow between his wrists and elbows.
He offered only an angry grunt as he was propelled backwards into the spacious front windows of a bank, tumbling though glass and several office cubicles before coming to a stop. The spears dissolved. The Nephilim began walking again.
Kensuke watched the battle in horror.
"Aida," Misato told him, "I'm authorizing you to sortie. Help Suzuhara."
"B-But I don't have a rifle or—"
"We got one onboard for you," the copilot called back from the cockpit. "Just in case."
The VTOL raced over the city skyline, finding a tall hotel. It hovered over the rooftop and opened its passenger doors. A blast of wind slammed Kensuke against his seat.
"Your stop, Third," the copilot said. "Don't worry; we'll be ready to pick you back up if things get dicey."
"Oh. Right."
In a numb haze, Kensuke managed his buckles open and edged to the door. It was a six-foot drop from the vehicle's open bay to the hotel rooftop. He slid out feet-first, lowering himself to his chin. The copilot gave him a thumbs-up.
"Good luck, Third."
Kensuke fell on his side. He didn't feel the impact. The VTOL pivoted left, and detached a metal crate from its undercarriage. It clattered beside him, then opened to reveal a sniper rifle and a box of ammunition. The VTOL roared away.
Okay, Kensuke thought. I can do this.
He crawled to the rifle. He pushed the support struts to the edge of the building. He loaded it. He peeked over and nearly vomited.
He was sweating, he was shaking. His breath came in manic gasps. He bit his bottom lip to keep his teeth from chattering. This was not the same atmosphere of ego deflating tedium present on the practice range.
In his ear was a blaring cacophony of voices; reports of the Nephilim's distance from HQ, Toji declaring he was okay, a WILLE evac team hurrying Asuka back to base for medical treatment, initial reports of her being unconscious but alive, and movements of a UN tank battery and fighters circling the city.
I can do this, he told himself again.
He swung his scope wide trying to find the enemy.
"Try to calm down," Hyuga spoke to him. He sounded unruffled but the urgency in his voice was unmistakable. "But, uh, try to do that soon. If the UN gets involved we'll have to have you and Suzuhara fall back to base for a final defense. You need to stop it here."
Kensuke could only nod, unable to speak. He tried to focus on fending off hyperventilation.
Where were the Nephilim coming from and why did they want to get to WILLE? Why was WILLE hiding underground to begin with? What would happen if he failed here and HQ was invaded?
He pushed it from his mind. He had his orders. He'd figure out everything afterwards.
The scope found his target, approaching along a main traffic artery. He waited for a strategic bottleneck, the street narrowing to four lanes, each leg of the Nephilim brushing a building. The black orb was together again, albeit slightly smaller in diameter. The Nephilim's image jumped and shivered in his scope. He fired.
He missed.
"Shit," Kensuke breathed.
The Nephilim stopped. From the wound Asuka inflicted more spears appeared and shot towards him, tearing through the air.
"Oh, shit, oh, shit—"
Toji punched the Nephilim's right leg, sending it off balance. The spears splayed in various directions, shredding buildings as it stabilized itself.
"Keep firing!" Toji yelled over the comm. He fell back, hobbling into cover. The armor on his arms was torn open, blood pouring out.
Kensuke forced his hands to realign the rifle, locating the target. He fired. He struck the black orb, sending inky blood across a nearby building façade. More spears jumped from the wound.
"Air support!" Misato ordered.
Two VTOLs swarmed the Nephilim, peppering it with machine gun fire and small rockets. More blood splashed from the orb producing more spears. One of the VTOLs was clipped and spiraled to the street below.
Kensuke wiped the sweat from his eyes. He fired again, scoring a hit. The orb was stretched thin between the legs now, bled of cover to reveal a lidless eye glowing red. The air was thick with spears, speeding towards the hotel rooftop. Kensuke lined up the shot.
The round gouged a hunk of pulp from the eye's rim. An inhuman scream echoed through the empty city. The rigid spears turned limp before bursting into soupy blood. The legs buckled and the Nephilim tumbled to the street.
"Pattern erased," Aoba reported, sounding winded. "Target eliminated."
Kensuke collapsed in a cold sweaty pile beside the rifle. He weakly rolled onto his back, staring up into the advancing night sky. Vaguely, he heard a VTOL approaching his position.
He groaned. He hoped his armor covered up the smell of urine.
/\/\/\/\
End of chapter 5
Author notes: Could Kensuke land a cutie-pie like Mana? Jean landed Nadia, so… so Kensuke could land Shinji. Hahaha.
Next chapter: My dinner with Asuka.