War is hell.

This is an indisputable truth, which societies have tried to suppress so that those who rule can continue to employ war as an extension of diplomacy.

Nevertheless, all but the most bloodthirsty soldiers would say that the chaos of battle, the sheer randomness of death, the knowledge that the person you just killed was just like you all comes together to create the single worst environment any human should have to suffer.

This has not changed since the dawn of humanity.

The advent of the phalanx created battlefields of two large masses of men shoving each other out of the way, with little possibility for individual action. The fall of the Roman Empire created the opportunity for bands of cavalry to rise to the fore, becoming the knights of the western world and the cavalry archers of the east. These had more choice in how to fight, but were forced to swear fealty to a lord who sent them on crusades and petty wars. The invention of the musket led to war being decided by lines of soldiers, unable to make actions other than to fire, reload, and die. The enemy could be fifteen meters away, but the soldier would remain in their line. The development of the machine gun and accurate, heavy artillery destroyed this style of war, but soldiers were thrown into the meat-grinders of enemy defences and forced to watch entire battalions of their friends be wiped out. The tank and motor vehicle made these static lines of defences untenable, but the vast majority of an army was still made up of the "poor, bloody infantry". Even the guided missile failed to change this. Soldiers were still sent thousands of miles to die in a country they had never heard of for reasons that were patently illogical, despite the creation of atomic weapons which rendered large-scale warfare obsolete. They were ambushed by other bands of soldiers, and laid ambushes in turn. One could be chatting with a friend while patrolling the jungle one minute, then in a fire-storm of napalm and bullets as their friend dies the next.

Humanity has been at war since the very beginning, and has been trying to find new and inventive ways to fight those wars for just as long.

Only Second Impact broke this cycle, and even then only temporarily. The sheer shock of the event forced humanity to stop fighting for a brief moment.

When the wars resumed, the activation of Unit 07 promised yet another, more deadly era of warfare. Entire armies could pour their fire into an Evangelion, and fail to slow it down. Yet, an Evangelion could not hold territory by itself, not was it capable of constant operation. So, the need for armies continued, and more soldiers found themselves told to walk into the slaughterhouse of the battlefield.

The ultimate expression of humanity's bloodlust was, ironically, piloted by those very children which so many soldiers had fought to prevent. People all over the world gazed in horror at the photographs snatched of a diminutive armoured figure being carried from the cockpit of a weapon which had just wiped out an entire army single-handedly.

When the Chinese People's Evangelion Corps allowed its first pilot to appear on a popular talk show, however, he was met with applause and cheers.

Just three short years were enough for society to overcome its revulsion.

The Evangelion pilots became celebrities, even those whose identities were kept secret. Like all weapons of war, they became tied up in national identity. Unit 07, to use the most famous example, was likened to the RAF Spitfires of years past, The fact that the pilot was a child, and that the Evangelion kept reverting to its bestial form, was ignored. Children everywhere aspired to be an Evangelion pilot, bought Evangelion-related merchandise (after all, the wars had to be funded somehow) and entered into a culture which revered these child soldiers.

To put it simply, these children found themselves shouldering the hopes and dreams of their entire nation and its people. The world could not have made life harder for Evangelion pilots if it had tried; that only one ever snapped and went on a rampage across the Middle East (as the official story went) was a miracle.

And now, a second wave of children found themselves waiting for the order to walk into these twin hells of war and expectation.

"Captain on deck! ATTENTION, YOU LAZY FUCKWITS!"

Michael strode into the training hall, dismissing the Sergeant in charge of the new recruits with a wave of his bionic arm. He made straight for the podium, his cane tapping on the ground. Another hand motion, and the projector screen at the front of the room began to unfurl. Paying the recruits no mind, he rested his cane on the podium ahead of the screen as the MAGI started the background presentation.

Finally, he looked around the room. Twenty recruits, about equal numbers male to female. All wore the new UN Evangelion Reserve pilot's uniform, a navy-blue Mark XVII plug suit with the UNER logo across the left shoulder. Michael tried to read them, but found himself unable to. That particular skill had left him permanently. Not that it mattered, of course; he was now the single most politically powerful person on the planet.

"At ease," he said.

"It's about time the bastard took an interest," Toji complained as the class waited for their erstwhile leader to show up. "Fucker conscripts us, then palms us off on the Sergeant! What kind of man does that?" The past day had not been very pleasant. Between the pain of moving out of home, the sheer shock of adjusting to a military schedule, the crash-course training, and the unpleasantness of being measured for a plug suit, none of Toji's classmates had really been able to rest.

"The kind we have," Kensuke muttered. "I just want to get at the actual pilot training already..."

Toji shot his friend a look. After the débâcle that had been their first fire-arm training session, he doubted the class would be let near a real Evangelion for another few months. Of the entire class, only Kensuke had been allowed to actually fire a gun; the rest were sent into an hour-long lecture on gun safety and proper handling procedure after Toji had turned around and accidentally pointed his gun at the Sergeant.

"Shut it, you two," Hikari whispered from Toji's right. "I will assign you both to kitchen duty if you make a scene."

"Yes, Cadet-Corporal!" Kensuke and Toji replied in unison.

"Captain on deck! ATTENTION, YOU LAZY FUCKWITS!"

The class stood in unison, saluting.

A blue-haired boy (definitely a boy, simply by the way he walked) strode through the doors to the training hall.

Toji took the time to weigh up the Captain. The boy still walked with a cane, although he seemed to be a little faster now. There was an arrogant air about him as he simply waved at the Sergeant, who left the room, and ignored the class as he walked towards the lectern. Unlike last time, a bulky robotic arm sat on his left shoulder.

Of course he gets the best medical technology around, but Mari is stuck with a wheelchair, Toji bitterly mused.

"At ease," Captain Ayanami said.

The screen behind him lit up, showing the UNEF logo. The class sat down and prepared to make notes.

"Alright, so before I start let's get the paperwork out of the way. Officially speaking, this is Lecture One of the Evangelion Strategy and Tactics series. Please note down your name on the piece of paper which should be making its way around the hall now. The contents of this lecture is considered classified at the "Official" level. While I can't have you executed for telling your parents about this, I'd rather you kept your mouths shut."

He sounds bored, Toji mentally noted as he physically noted the lecture title and classification. Does he do this that often?

"Moving on from that, let's get another thing clear," Ayanami continued. "This lecture's only the first of four that I'm giving today, and I have to sit through four more, so I may end up cutting this short if we run out of time. Okay, so, let's begin. "Strategy" and "Tactics". These are important terms, but how do we define them?"

The presentation moved to the next slide, the words "Strategy" and "Tactics" in capital letters.

"Well, to put it simply, "Tactics" is how you act to achieve a plan, while "Strategy" is your plan. There are higher levels of strategy, like running a country, but those aren't applicable here. All of you are probably thinking something along the lines of "but we're all conscripts, teaching us strategy is useless". In any other context, you would be right. There's no need to teach cannon fodder how to win a war."

The Captain paused, and took a pill.

So we're cannon fodder. At least he admits it, thought Toji. What's up with those pills, anyway?

"In your case, it's different. Evangelion pilots have to have some understanding of basic strategy because Evangelions are strategic-scale weapons. Digression aside, today we'll look at some basic Evangelion tactics and optimal deployment patterns. Let's start with scouting."

The next slide appeared. Toji began to rest his head on the desk, but felt Hikari's glare on his back. It looked like he was in this for the long haul.

Paperwork. Of all the things for Rose to face right now, it had to be paperwork.

"That bastard," she growled, eyeing up the massive stack of forms in front of her. "Everyone says he's so good at delegating, but all that means is unloading all of this shit on me!"

She laid the first form atop the stack flat on her hospital bed's table. The process was far more difficult than it needed to be, courtesy of a stab wound in her arm.

"Sign here, put serial number here, add comment here because of course this is one I have to read through, amend that because we need 457mm ammunition, not 4*5.7mm ammunition, unit code here, and routing code here. Wait, what the hell is a routing code?" Rose briefly considered the problem, then dismissed it.

"Whatever it is, someone else can just add it later. Not my fucking problem."

She was annoyed because of the massive stack of paperwork. It had nothing to do with the fact her supposed best friend hadn't bothered to visit her once since she got injured – again! - or that she'd saved his life for the sixtieth time and he hadn't even thanked her. Absolutely nothing at all. It wasn't like he'd been really distant recently or anything. She had no reason whatsoever to doubt their continued friendship.

"Next. Sign here, serial number here, unit code here... wait, that's odd."

Rose took a closer look at the piece of paper taped to the file in front of her. It certainly wasn't generic paperwork, that was for certain.

"So, what the hell is Mikey doing with an MI5 report?"

"This," Michael said as he gestured up at the screen, "is Evangelion Unit 01."

Evangelion Unit 01 stood, pushing against the 11th Angel, in miniature on the screen.

"Twenty thousand tonnes of flesh, bone, cybernetic implants and armour plating. It can, when the pilot is sufficiently motivated, exceed Mach 2 and project an AT Field strong enough to not only defend against all but the most powerful weapons in Humanity's arsenal, but also level a city.

It is also a living creature.

To be more specific, Unit 01 – and all the other Evangelions – are clones reproduced from Adam's genetic material. As of this year, there have been one hundred and sixty three successful clones made, of which eighty-six are used in simulator, training and research roles. Ten have been outfitted for combat, of which three have been lost. The rest are either in reserve, or being readied for use. Each clone has been fitted with restraints, and their nervous systems have been redirected to centre on the base of their necks. Ideally, we would ensure that the Evas were lobotomised or otherwise rendered mindless. This has proven to be impossible."

Murmurs ran throughout the lecture theatre. Students picked themselves up off the desks, and began to pay attention.

"Evangelions have thoughts and feelings. They are animalistic, but they exist. In other words, simply getting into the cockpit and syncing up is not enough. My experience is a little skewed here, but it is certain that you will have to fight the Evangelion for control. They are usually co-operative on a basic level, but they tend to favour berserker strategies. Those do not often work."

With a glance around the room, Michael took a sip of water.

Where the hell did he even get that from? Toji idly wondered. One second he has nothing on the podium, next he has a glass of water.

"You will, over the course of your training, be taught how to rein your Unit in. Most of you will develop positive relationships with your Evas, as well. So far, only Unit 00 has been actively hostile to its pilot; all others have consistently acted to protect theirs. That said, this is an area which hasn't seen that much study. Telling one's government that their superweapon might not obey their orders does not tend to be a good idea."

Another pause, another glance, another sip. The glass was placed on the table, and Michael took up his cane.

"The reason I am telling you this is so that you are able to adapt to this issue in real-time. That is the first rule of battle: information decides all!"

Michael slammed his cane into the ground, punctuating the statement.

"Without adequate information, battles are lost. If you need a real-life example, look at every single Angel battle so far! We have been fighting blind, and it has cost us! One Eva infected, another destroyed, costly repairs after every battle! The first phase of a battle is not to attack, but to observe! Determine the enemy's capabilities and weaknesses, then destroy them. Simulation 1, please."

That last sentence was directed not at the students (although some of them noted it down anyway, unthinking), but at the projector.

Evangelion Units 00, 01 and 02 stood in the centre of Tokyo-3, represented on a wireframe map. One red dot lurked at the edge of the map, immobile.

"This simulation was chosen at random out of eighteen similar programs. I was placed in charge of the Evangelion force you see in the centre, while the MAGI ran the Angel. The rules were simple: the Angel had to have a trick of some sort. The Evas had to defeat the Angel. Play."

A motion to the projector as the Captain took another sip. The red dot flew across the screen towards Unit 01, changing form as it did so. From a formless dot, it took the shape of a horned beast – a dragon - spitting fire at its chosen prey. The attack had taken the defenders by surprise, and fire sprayed off of Unit 01's AT Field. Retaliating, the war machine spat battleship-calibre rounds towards the Angel, which in turn bounced off of its own AT Field. The Angel's head lanced out, biting towards Unit 01.

Unit 00 closed in from the Angel's left, thrusting a spear ahead of it. Slicing through the AT Field, it stabbed towards the core only to be engulfed in fire.

Toji blinked – the Angel hadn't even been looking at Unit 00 when it attacked. Was this set up to make him lose or something?

Unit 02 pressed the attack, slicing up towards the beast's underbelly with a gigantic axe. Once again, fire wreathed around the defender, pushing the titan back. Again, the Angel had been locked in combat with Unit 01 when it attacked.

Unit 00, on the other hand, was now free. Its spear once again pushed through the Angel's AT Field, and this time it hit home.

So that was the trick, Toji realised. The Angel's fire stayed on the field, but it couldn't make any more. He used Unit 01 to test it at range, then Unit 00 to test it in melee. Unit 02 distracted it while 00-

The simulation was still playing. The Angel's body dissipated, but the fire remained. Abruptly, Unit 02 winked out of existence. In unison, Units 00 and 01 wheeled around from the Angel's corpse as the fire lanced out towards Unit 01. The purple mech staggered back, before grasping at the enemy with its hands. Instead of passing through, as they should have, they grasped a round object at the centre of the blaze. Unit 00 raced forwards, knife extended, and impaled it. Unit 01 dissipated as the Angel died.

"That was a loss," Michael concluded. "What was my mistake?"

None of the students raised their hands; they all knew the mistake was obvious. All except for Toji, who puzzled over the question. Slowly, unsurely, he raised his hand. Ayanami pointed, motioning him to speak.

"Uh... you didn't make a mistake," said Toji.

A wry smile appeared on Michael's face. "That's an interesting conclusion. How did you reach it?"

"You used the Evangelions to work out what the Angel's deal was, then you attacked it. That's what you were telling us to do earlier; the only reason you lost is because the Angel was a sneaky little bastard. Thing is, if you'd have waited even longer before starting to try to kill it, then the Angel would have been free to kill whoever was the punching bag. The only way you could have dealt with the Angel faster is if you'd known what it was capable of before the battle even began." Point made, the jock sat back down. Shocked stares followed him.

"Mr. Suzahara hit the nail precisely on the head, there," Michael said. "The key lessons are thus twofold. The first: sometimes you have to take a risk in order to achieve victory. If I had not attacked when I had, then I would have lost all three Evas. The second lesson is that you must try to attain information whenever possible."

A glance at the clock.

"I would elaborate, but we have run out of time. Please file out of the hall in an orderly fashion."

"The appearance of the Eleventh Angel. The destruction of the Ninth Apocrypha. The extensive damage to the Fortress-City, and the mishap of the child captain. These are all serious matters, Ikari."

If his office was the one place where Gendo Ikari could feel something approximating freedom, then this room was the place that epitomised his slavery. Thirteen monoliths surrounded him, each bearing the snake-clad emblem of SEELE. One was dark, and would be for the rest of time, but the others were lit.

These were the most powerful men in the world (and they were, indeed, all men – even Yui Ikari, who had been so vital to their plans, had never been in one of these meetings), these were Gendo Ikari's masters. These were the most pitiful men on the planet (and they were, indeed, all men – even Keel Lorenz had yet to cast off what little humanity remained), these were Gendo Ikari's puppets.

He showed them a smile, pretending to hide it behind his trademark pose.

"None of these matters are truly important. The schedule has proceeded according to plan so far, even accounting for... interruptions."

"Indeed."

The thirteenth monolith lit up, shaking, bursting at its seams.

"The time of the Covenant has long since passed. Now we have passed into the valley of the shadow of death, and it is the time of the Sundering."

The first monolith dimmed for a moment.

"Very well. The Committee shall approve the budget to proceed to the next stage. Play your part, Ikari."

"If Five and Eight will play their parts, so will I. A play requires all of the players to act in order to exist, after all." A sharp barb, but given the Chinese and Russian failures so far it would be accepted.

"The stage has been set, and our extras have rehearsed their lines this time. There will be no further mistakes."

Ikari did not see the fifth monolith light up behind him, but he knew who was speaking. A man less patient than he would grow annoyed with the farce, and demand that the long-shredded masks be removed. A man less patient than he would have died fifty times over.

Again, the thirteenth monolith lit up. The room shook slightly with Keel's voice.

"There is but one Angel remaining before the end of the second act. This is the most crucial time. Ensure there are no... mistakes."

The monoliths disappeared, replaced by the searing green of the Council Chamber.

"I see their tastes for the dramatic have not changed."

Fuyutsuki, his oldest confederate, stood behind him.

"I doubt they will ever change. What would be the point now, after all?"

"Alright, I have another meeting to get to in about half an hour and this is kind of the only free time I have today, so let's make this quick. What happened to my gun out there?" Michael glared, bleary-eyed, at the Warrant Officer in front of him.

"A jam, sir," the woman answered.

"A jam." Michael sighed. "When was the last time we replaced the barrel before yesterday?"

"Well... a lot of the techs are still on Gibraltar, sir. We haven't had the chance to swap out the barrel since you arrived. We've only just been brought up to quarter-strength, sir."

"I suppose it was inevitable, in that case. I want a full inspection on Unit 07 – leave the synchronisation system alone, I'm in charge of that, but everything else needs to be stripped and looked over. I'll need an estimate for completion uploaded by the end of the day." Another annoying job done, Michael turned to leave.

"Sir... we don't have enough people to finish it before the end of the month. At the current rate, that'll be at least ten Angel battles!"

Michael suppressed the rather worrying urge to stab the woman, and turned around.

"NERV has about five hundred techs dedicated to wiping the Commander's arse. Round a few of those up or something."

The woman just wouldn't stop talking. "Sir, the Trebuchet cannon is a national secret. We're not allowed to let NERV-"

"ENOUGH!" screamed Michael, hand curling into a claw. "I don't give two shits about any of this! Take the fucking gun off, I'll go into the next battle without it. Reactor too, if need be. Just get it done!"

"He can't do that," Li mumbled, incredulous. "There are laws-"

"It is of no matter. He does what he likes." said Ivan, picking up the dice and rolling them. "Eight. I pass the Go, and collect two hundred Euros."

"Income Tax, Ivan. Pay two hundred Euros." Tatyana, the banker, followed the progress of Ivan's dog with interest. The pot in the middle was looking very tempting, and she only needed to roll reasonably well to land on Free Parking and claim it. If she didn't, however, Asuka's row of hotels would put her out of the game. "Besides," she added, "the British are above the law. That reactor of theirs is illegal, their control over Longbow is illegal, their government wasn't even elected. No-one ever calls them out on it because they "stopped the American menace" and all that shit."

Asuka took the dice, and rolled. The game was rather boring, and way too easy to win, but she figured it was better than being in the science briefing. "I think he's getting a little overworked, you know. I caught him talking to himself yesterday! Idiot like him should never have been put in charge anyway." Her piece – the ship – landed on a Chance square. Rolling her eyes, she took the card. "Payment for services, twenty Euros. Commie?"

"Twenty Euros, as requested, Nazi," Tatyana said, handing over the note.

"Wait, he talks to himself?" asked Li. "There was that incident as well, with the power outage. He killed an entire platoon of trained killers with his bare hands, while laughing manically, and no-one even raises an eyebrow!"

"This is nothing new. From stories I hear, from veterans, he is as dangerous outside Eva as he is inside it," Ivan said, passing the dice to Tatyana. "They say his armour has restraints, just like Eva."

Tatyana sighed as she unleashed the dice. "All plugsuits have SAS restraints, Ivan. Speaking of his armour, though..." She pushed her car onto the Free Parking space, and scooped up the pot. "I hear he doesn't really take it off. I know he did for his sister's dinner party, other than that..."

"Do you think psychosis runs in the family or something? All the new kids are terrified of Rei." Finally, it was Li's turn. His hat had spent the past two turns In Jail, but if he could just roll the double this turn...

A one and a six. No dice.

"Apparently blue hair and red eyes run do," commented Asuka. "Don't know about mental illness. Rei's stable enough, until you mention Shinji."

"He is boy worth being crazy over," Ivan said as the dice found themselves in his possession. "I worked for years trying to use AT Field to accelerate Eva. He figures it out in minutes. Ace pilot, as well. Eleven, I land on Marlybone Station. Is that owned?"

Tatyana shook her head, and Ivan passed over his last two large-denomination notes in exchange for the station.

"He is also good cook, and scientist, and many other things," he finished, passing the dice back on to Asuka.

"He's also a pathetic loser. Sarcastic little arschloch is going to get himself killed one of these days." Asuka rolled. "Coventry Street. Good thing I own it. Aren't half of these places underwater, though? How the schisse did I build a hotel under that much water?"

"It is old board," said Ivan. "Traditional."

The game continued.

"Welcome to the Counter-Angel Strategy Seminar," said Michael, flatly. "I'm Michael Ayanami, and I'll be leading it today. Did everyone read the notes I sent out yesterday?"

Most of the assembled officers nodded, in the same way that students often nodded to indicate that they had definitely read all the seminar reading material and had not spent the time getting drunk. Since Michael was not an experienced teacher, he did not take the hint.

"Alright. We'll begin by recapping the various different types of Angel encountered thus far, then proceed to discuss how these types may be developed, then discuss any new types that may be encountered at a later date. Captain Katsuragi, take us through the various types."

Misato raised her head off the round table at the mention of her name, leaving a pool of drool behind.

"The... types?" she slurred. In her defence, it was still only 1pm, and the victory drinks last night had lasted until about 9am. "Ergh... gods... let's see... "Infiltrator", "Assault", "Anti-Evangelion" and "Special"?"

"Good. Now, the names should be a clue as to what each type does. Yes?" Michael pointed at one of the more generic officers, who had raised a hand.

"Where do these "types" come from? I've never heard of them before," the man asked.

"My co-pilot and I came up with them, based off of Angel behaviour," answered Michael. "As a quick aside, some Angels seem to belong to multiple types. The Eleventh, for example, could be classified as both a "Fortress" type based on its AT Field strength and usage as well as a "Special" type based off of its overall strategy. Types are not meant to be an exact categorisation, they are meant to give pilots in the field an idea of what they're fighting."

"And how do you identify a new Angel's type?" the same generic officer asked, raising himself to "unnamed but mildly important NPC" status.

"That was in the notes I sent out." Michael sighed, and tried not to get too annoyed. "To put it concisely, the MAGI are capable of reading an Angel's AT Field and using that data to hazard a guess as to the Angel's type."

"Can they really do that?" said the NPC.

"Sort of?" shrugged Michael. "Those of you interested in learning just how they do that, come to the Scientific Briefing that should start shortly after this ends. Same room, too."

The assembled officers suddenly seemed very interested in the corners of the room, which was slightly odd as it was a circular room.

"Digression aside, the "Assault" and "Fortress" types seem to have reached the pinnacle of their development. No Angel has been of either type alone since the Sixth. The "Infiltrator" and "Anti-Evangelion" types, however, are a different matter. We can expect at least one of the next three Angels to specialise in either type. Since these types have been far more successful in combat, we can assume that this is-"

Bent double, Michael broke out into a coughing fit. They were beginning to get far too common. Thankfully, this one cleared up as suddenly as it started. None of the assembled people looked overly concerned; another small blessing.

"We can assume that the Angels are adapting to our tactics and trying to take advantage of our weaknesses. The attack of the Tenth Angel during a power outage was not a coincidence. We need to do the same."

He paused.

"Each Angel type seems to have its own specific weaknesses. Infiltrators tend to be less effective in combat, Assault Angels focus on their goal to the exclusion of all else, Anti-Eva types are easily confused when surrounded, and the few Fortresses we've encountered thus far have shown themselves unable to adapt to new situations outside of a few pre-programmed responses."

A hand raised itself above the heads of his audience. He nodded in its general direction.

"So," a Scottish voice asked, "You mentioned the the Angels have a "Target". Perhaps you'd like to expand on that? You know, like why they're attacking this shitehole in the first place?"

"Captain Greene," Michael greeted. "It's good to see you again. It's been a while since I last saw the Bristol in port."

"Answer the bloody question, you English cock," Greene replied.

"Technically Welsh, remember?" grinned Michael. "But yes, it is a very valid question, and one I have to admit to not knowing the entire answer to. Apparently, I don't have the required clearance to know."

"NERV's keeping secrets from the other projects?" the NPC from before asked. He even seemed slightly appalled by the idea, so either he was a very good actor for a NERV officer, or he was very naive.

"Well, yes, but this isn't one of them. I was asked not to pursue my enquires into this topic by a member of my own government. However, it is easy to hazard a guess; the Second Angel still remains unaccounted for, after all. Given that the Ikari Expedition's report described it in much the same terms as the Katsuragi Expedition described the First, it's possible that the other Angels may see it as some sort of progenitor."

Nods of assent ran around the room.

"This is, of course speculation. Whatever NERV is keeping in Terminal Dogma is classified. While that does mean we'll never really be able to take the offensive in this war, it does mean that we know exactly where the enemy will strike. Moving on, let's talk about the communication problem and how we can work around it..."

Rose carefully opened the manilla folder, making sure not to drop any of the loose pieces of paper inside. The first item was a small square of paper, marking the document as National Archives document number KV 11/132, creation date 10/03/2006, closed to public access until 10/03/2066. The second item was a similar piece of paper, covered in spidery handwriting.

Rose, it read, please read through the enclosed documents. Remember our deal.

Keep him safe.

-Oliver.

She got the feeling this day was about to get a whole lot worse, very quickly. She pushed the two irrelevant sheets aside, and started reading the file.

Human Instrumentality Investigation Unit Report:

"Project A" investigation, findings and conclusions

Report no. HIIU 01/2006

10 March 2006

Distribution list:

HM The Queen

Prime Minister

CINC ETF

Key points:

"Project A" is the attempt to create a link between Human and Angel.

Unlike "Project E", "Project A" concerns itself with the Human side of said link, rather than the Angelic.

"Project A" prototypes have been active since at least 05/1994, possibly earlier.

"Project A" has achieved its goal. The window to prevent the completion of Instrumentality through the destruction of either "Project E" or "Project A" has passed.

Asset "J" recommends the implementation of Plan "L" to prevent Instrumentality.

Investigation into "Project A" began on 04/02/1998 after the confirmed sighting of an individual with unusual hair and eye pigmentation, photograph attached. Said individual, "B", was admitted to Ealing Hospital, London, suffering from a respiratory disease of unknown type. It was confirmed that Individual "B" was suffering from a build-up of "LCL" in their lungs. "B" died on-site, and the body was stolen shortly afterwards (see incident report HIIU 06/1998). Early investigations, like all previous to Second Impact, bore little fruit.

Upon the acquisition of Asset "J" and associated other assets, the investigation was able to determine several key facts about individual "B":

Individual "B"'s genetic code was, at most, 85% human. The remainder matched certain genetic sequences in the Second Angel's pseudo-DNA. Given the similarity between baseline human DNA and the Second Angel's, providing a more specific ratio is not possible.

Individual "B" did not show any indication of possessing a unique AT Field. Asset "J" confirmed that the creation of a unique AT Field was (and is) still considered impossible. Any attempt to implement Instrumentality through the use of "Project A" specimens would fail if those specimens were not awakened at least four years before the attempt in order to grow a unique AT Field through social interaction etc. The best results would be had if the specimen had been awakened at least fourteen years before the attempt.

While Individual "B" was male, this represented what Asset "J" called a "dead end" in "Project A"'s research. When asked why, Asset "J" refused to comment further. As per Operational Directive HIIU 34, we did not press further.

Despite the above, Project "K"'s specimen has been confirmed as being male. When asked, Asset "J" noted that Project "K" was based off of genetic samples harvested from the First Angel, while Project "A" is based off of samples harvested from the Second. See HIIU Scientific Report HIIU/SC 12/2006.

Since Second Impact, new "Project A" specimens have been noted across the planet, the most notable being Individual "R". Many of these specimens have died shortly after being spotted by various authorities or being admitted to hospitals suffering from the same disease Individual "B" died from. An analysis of this disease is still pending. A full list of these individuals is as follows:

Individual "C". Spotted in Moscow, Russian Federation, on 14/04/2001. Confirmed dead.

Individual "D". Spotted in New York, United States of America, on 12/06/2001. Confirmed dead.

Individual "E"...

Rose stopped reading.

None of this makes any sense, she thought. "Project A"? "Project E"? "Human Instrumentality"? What the hell is all this stuff? Why the fuck did I end up with this, and not any of the context? Why would a human – or rather, 85% human – have an AT Field? That'd make them an Angel.

Oh.

Facts began to sink in, and her mind started to connect the dots.

LCL build-up in the lungs. Unusual hair and eye pigmentation. British Intelligence. Human.

Okay. So, that solves that, at least. The question then becomes: why? And why was I given this file? If the note at the front's any indication, then Admiral Jones wanted me to read this. I'm not being given the whole picture because he was worried I might do the wrong thing afterwards. Or maybe he thought I'd know by now? He was always a bit of a sentimental idiot.

Fucking hell. I was never trained for this.

No, I wasn't, was I? I was trained to kill people, and I was never very good at it.

I guess doing something else instead might be a better idea.

She picked up the folder again, searching for the photograph. Annoyingly enough, it wasn't there; that would have made it so easy, she could have burst into... wherever the hell he was... and confronted him about it.

Oh well. This way is far more fun.