Let us not kid ourselves and claim that we have long-since answered the burning question of whether or not we are alone in the universe. Our star-scattered brethren are virtually identical to us genetically-speaking, with variation no greater between us and them than the variation between any terrestrial ethnic group. To call them alien is as absurd as the Pitjantjatjara people of Central Australia calling the Swedish aliens.
Neither can we say with any certainty that the Mysterians, Xiliens, or Simeons were relocated to their worlds by some unknown extraterrestrial party, with the revelation of the archaic civilization that had ruled the now-submerged flatlands of the Indies more than seventy thousand years before Christ, possessing anachronistic knowledge and technologies whose heights -and limits- we still know nearly nothing about.
Even the nature of those purported animals and kaiju from space is inconclusive. The elusive Ymir, the various strains of Yog and Dogora, even dreaded King Ghidorah; all of them possess at least in part features eerily similar to terrestrial animals, whether it be the structure of their eyes, or mitochondria analogues in their DNA-organized cells. Whether these are merely examples of convergent evolution, or evidence that these creatures are misplaced and mutated specimens much like our star-kin, remains unclear.
I do not believe we have met aliens yet. But it is my hope that we shall one day, and that meeting shall be wondrous as our most hopeful writers have dreamed.
- Dr. Akio Kinjo, Discussions on Xenology, 1987
†
She knew she was syncing well when her own body felt like the foreign one.
Though the plug was always heated to body temperature, she felt cold. The LCL of the cage was frigid, and she was up to her shoulders in the stuff, keenly aware of it seeping between her armor plates and her skin. She welcomed the chill, for it deadened the dull ache in her joints, an ache so deep it seemed to be rooted in her very bones.
Her bones, not the Eva's, for in that moment they were one and the same, and it was the fragile little body in the plug that did not feel like her own. It was not her heart that beat against her ribs, but that of some tiny and unwanted creature, a parasite in her chest that clutched puppeteer's strings with unfeeling hands. It was weak, feeble.
She was strong. She was mighty. And by God, she was going to show the whole world just how strong she was.
"52%, Asuka," a tinny voice said. "New personal record. I think we can call this session for the day."
Reluctantly, she retreated away from the Eva, slipping back into familiar skin as she nodded. "Understood."
The plug sank into darkness, and once again she was Asuka Langley Sohryu. With a hiss, the LCL in the plug began to drain, and she felt heavy as she was forced to support her whole body weight again. Soaked red hair clung to her neck and shoulders as she leaned over in her seat with closed eyes, and got the LCL out of her lungs in a well-practiced hack.
Sucking in the cool air, she disembarked -certainly not clambered- out of the plug, meticulously squeezing excess LCL out of her hair. Without waiting for updates or permission from the testing director, she began her walk to the locker room, long and confident strides like a queen strolling through her palace. And much like a queen, no one dared to meet her gaze as she passed by engineers and paper-pushers, a trail of red droplets following her. Someone else would clean that up.
She spent about half an hour under the near-scalding shower, methodically lathering her hair with a veritable beauty aisle's worth of artisanal shampoos and conditioners. LCL actually worked wonders for her hair and skin, but it also smelled like freshly-spilled blood, so every picogram of the stuff had to be purged and replaced with the fragrance of lavender or nectarine blossom.
The A-10 nerve clips stayed on, however. She had to advertise she was an Eva pilot somehow, after all.
The Berlin weather was always on the colder side since Second Impact, but the sundress she had bought for her eventual transfer to Tokyo-3 was too beautiful to not wear, and so she dealt with the chill as she marched between buildings of the massive facility. She liked the cobblestone trails that snaked between groves of transplanted maples- it reminded her of college.
Her quarters was a two-story condo that was meant for four people, cloistered away from the main facility. Kaji lived in the one next to hers- she was sure to knock on his door, but it seemed he was still out for work, and she fought to not slump her shoulders as she marched over to her own quarters.
The door shut behind her with a click, and her posture relaxed. Slipping off her shoes, she walked over to her small office where she'd done the majority of her studying and essay writing for university, the walls packed with books on applied metaphysics and engineering and advanced biology. Plopping into her chair, she opened her laptop and checked her emails.
Right on time, she'd received her harmonics report from the lab, as requested. She preferred to read over her own data- after all, she knew herself better than anyone else, and she had the training and academic know-how to parse it.
Her lips pursed into a slight frown as she read the data. 52% was indeed a new high, but not as high as it should have been. Her sync had increased rather steadily ever since she had started training all those years ago, but the past few months it had seemed to plateau, taking weeks to go from 51.5 to 52, when during that same timespan she'd gone from 12% to 19% when she was eight.
The only consolation was that it seemed the First Child was faring no better, even before her hospitalization in her most recent test with Unit-00. Then again, she was always rather abysmal, so perhaps a comparison between the two was not encouraging.
What was rather frustrating was that there was still nothing on the Third Child, even though he had apparently killed an Angel already despite only recently being identified by the Marduk Institute, a fact that rankled her to no end. No harmonics data, no footage of the combat, not even a picture of her mysterious competitor.
Shutting her laptop, she leaned back in her seat, then got up and walked over to her couch and plopped down, arms and legs splayed out. She stared at the ceiling for a short time, then sat up and perused her tape collection. There was a documentary series on the Second Korean War she still hadn't watched yet, but something told her that the content would all be old news to her at best, or inaccurate drivel at worst.
When a knock came at her door she bolted upright and dashed over, then stopped. Pausing a few seconds, she then calmly opened the door. A familiar face greeted her, one with an easygoing grin and just the right amount of stubble to make him all the more alluring.
"Kaji!" she said excitedly, opening the door more widely.
"Afternoon," he said warmly, stepping inside. "Heard you broke a new sync-test record."
"The previous one being my own, of course," she said. She planted a hand on her hip and leaned against the wall, fluttering her eyelashes. "The problem with being the best is that your only competition is yourself."
Kaji didn't seem to register her posture, instead handing her a thick manila envelope covered in half a dozen anti-espionage stickers and labels that screamed 'TOP SECRET'. Scowling, she stood straight and took the envelope, opening it up like it was just a memo from the office two cubicles down. A notice directed to her caught her attention, and she read.
"Already?" she asked, once she was done.
"You're taking a shuttle flight there next week," answered Kaji.
"But how are they going to transport Unit-02? She's not even ready to..." her eyes widened as it clicked. "No. They can't be serious."
"NERV needs you to pilot Unit-01 for the interim." Kaji stuck his hands in his pockets, stance apologetic. "There's no telling when the next Angel attack is going to be, and you're the only acceptable countermeasure."
"They already have a pilot for that hunk of junk," Asuka retorted. "Apparently the glorious Third Child already bagged an Angel too, so why do they need me?"
Kaji took the unlit cigarette out of his mouth. The grin was gone. "The Third Child didn't kill the Angel. Actually, apparently he's been having trouble syncing with Unit-01."
She snorted. "So he's a wash."
"He's not currently an option for NERV."
"Alright, so then the First Child recovered enough to do it."
"You don't get what I'm saying, Asuka," Kaji said, and she realized he was actually sounding a little uneasy. "The Eva didn't kill the Angel."
He gestured to the envelope, and Asuka dug out the thick report that was also ensconced within. Her eyes widened as she flipped through the pages, and saw a grainy photograph of something that shouldn't have been possible, blasting the Angel's arm clean off with atomic hellfire.
The Hunter of Hunters. The King of the Monsters. The terror of the old world, resurgent.
She looked back to Kaji. "I thought he bit it in Second Impact."
"So did everyone else," he said. "Turns out he was just on vacation. I think you can appreciate why you're suddenly needed- things just got a lot more complicated for us, and a lot more dangerous."
"I can handle dangerous," she said, tilting her head up.
"He killed the Angel in under two minutes, Asuka," Kaji said.
"And I could've done it in under one," she said. Her eyes narrowed. "What, you think I can't handle some overgrown lizard?"
He shot her a look, and her glare intensified. Instead, he simply sighed.
"Just keep it in mind, in case you have to deal with that overgrown lizard. NERV is in bad shape, and you're our only line of defense right now. Not just against Angels now, but any more kaiju that pop up."
"All because the Marduk Institute made a mistake picking that washout," she said, glowering. "Now I have to go and pilot his Eva for him."
"I wouldn't have anyone else doing it," Kaji said, the grin returning. "Think of it as having no competition."
Her glare dissipated, and she smiled again. "Well, I do suppose I still would've been needed, even if the Third could pilot."
"And I'm needed down at the office again," Kaji said, offering a small wave as he opened the door.
"Wait, you aren't staying?" she asked. She batted her eyelashes again. "We could review the files together, maybe get dinner at that Spanish place."
"I need to review the rest of the command staff here on it, and they're not as smart as you, so they definitely need the help," he said. "See you around, kid."
"But-" she protested.
He stepped out and shut the door behind him. Asuka's shoulders slumped, and she plodded towards the couch, sitting down.
"I'm not a kid," she whispered.
She glared at the file in her hand, then tossed it to the side. Standing back up, she marched towards one of her other libraries, rooting through the more dusty tomes until she found the binder containing archived reports on the US's initial attempts to kill Godzilla in the fifties. They were the bedrock of anti-kaiju studies, after all.
Sitting on the floor, she began to read. She couldn't believe Kaji thought it was too dangerous for her. Godzilla was a dinosaur of the old century. Literally a dinosaur. He was only scary to old farts who didn't understand an iota of solenoid mechanics or applied metaphysics.
And she was going to prove it. By God, she was going to prove it.
†
Shinji stirred, and his eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling.
For a few moments he did nothing but stare at it, eyes focused on nothing in particular. There was a window to the right of him, and he drank in the warm morning light that seemed to almost flow like honey into the room. For a short time, he could forget the events of the past day, forget the world outside, and simply bask in the sun.
I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ғᴇʟᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴛʜᴏᴜsᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴏᴜsᴀɴᴅ sᴜɴs, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇᴛ sᴛɪʟʟ I ᴇᴀɢᴇʀʟʏ ᴀᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇss ᴏғ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴏɴᴇ. Nᴏ ᴛᴡᴏ ғᴇᴇʟ ᴀʟɪᴋᴇ.
Then it all came back to Shinji.
"I almost thought it was just a dream," he murmured.
Mᴀɴʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴀɪᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ. I ᴀᴍ... ᴀᴡᴀʀᴇ, ᴏғ ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴀʀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴍʏ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴇxɪsᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ.
"Well, I guess I have to start accepting now, if you're stuck with me for a while."
Shinji sat up on his mat, rubbing his eyes out of reflex, even though he didn't feel groggy in the slightest. It was still strange to not feel any of the little aches and fatigue he'd been accustomed to his entire life. At the very least, it seemed he'd have some great nights of sleep ahead of him.
Mᴀʏ I sᴇᴇ ɪᴛ?
"See what?"
Tʜᴇ sᴜɴʀɪsᴇ.
Shinji blinked. "Oh."
Turning his head, he stared out the window. The sun was still rising above the mountains, warm orange light peeking through clouds and dancing across the treetops, while the valleys stayed sunken in shadow. Compared to the sight of the glittering city last night, this was comfortable, familiar- he could almost pretend he was living back in the countryside with his teacher, in the small house atop the small hill.
Bᴇᴀᴜᴛɪғᴜʟ.
"I can't imagine it compares to some of the things you've seen."
Wʜʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪᴛ ɴᴏᴛ? A G2V sᴛᴀʀ ᴀ ʜᴜɴᴅʀᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ғɪғᴛʏ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴋɪʟᴏᴍᴇᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴡᴀʏ ɪs ɪʟʟᴜᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴛᴇʀʀᴇsᴛʀɪᴀʟ ᴘʟᴀɴᴇᴛ ʟᴀʀɢᴇ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴᴇᴀʀ-ғʟᴀᴛ ʜᴏʀɪᴢᴏɴ, ɪᴛs ʟɪɢʜᴛ Rᴀʏʟᴇɪɢʜ-sᴄᴀᴛᴛᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴀɴ ᴀᴛᴍᴏsᴘʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴘʀᴇssᴜʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴏɴᴇ ʙᴀʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴏsɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ sᴇᴠᴇɴᴛʏ-ᴇɪɢʜᴛ ᴘᴇʀᴄᴇɴᴛ ɴɪᴛʀᴏɢᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ᴘᴇʀᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴏxʏɢᴇɴ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ɪs ɴᴏᴡ ɢɪᴠɪɴɢ sᴜsᴛᴇɴᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟɪғᴇ ɪᴛsᴇʟғ, ʟɪғᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴜsᴇs ғᴏᴜʀ DNA ʙᴀsᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀs ɢɪᴠᴇɴ ʀɪsᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ.
The voice seemed to become more subdued. Tʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟsᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ᴏ̨ᴜɪᴛᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs sᴜɴʀɪsᴇ, Sʜɪɴᴊɪ.
"Well, I guess when you put it like that..." He fell quiet, and took in the sunrise again, for what felt like the first time.
Sɪᴍᴘʟʏ sᴜʙʟɪᴍᴇ. I ʜᴀᴅ ᴍɪssᴇᴅ ᴀɴ ᴏᴘᴘᴏʀᴛᴜɴɪᴛʏ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.
"Wait, you've been to Earth before?"
Yᴇs.
Shinji hugged his knees to his chest. "It must've been a long time ago if no one remembers you."
Bʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴛᴀɴᴅᴀʀᴅs, ʏᴇs. Tɪᴍᴇ ᴍᴏᴠᴇs ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛᴇɴs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴏᴜsᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ʏᴇᴀʀs ᴀɢᴏ.
"I can't imagine being that old," he murmured.
Oʜ, I ᴀᴍ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴏʟᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ.
There was a sound of a door sliding open, and Shinji turned away from the window in time to see Misato peek her head into the room, a curious look on her face. In stark contrast to how he felt, she looked like death warmed over, with bags under her eyes and frizzy hair.
"Who are you talking to?"
Shinji turned very still, praying he wouldn't break out into a flop sweat. "Oh, um... vocal warmup."
Misato's brow scrunched. "What?"
"Vocal warmup. My... teacher taught it to me. He said it keeps your voice young."
Misato let out a little laugh. "I mean, you are young."
"Well..." Shinji blushed. "That's why you do it now. So it, um, stays that way."
She seemed to buy it. "Makes sense. I guess."
She shook her head, as if to dismiss the thought. "Anyway, not what I came here for. You have school today. Get dressed, have some breakfast, and then I'll drive you over before I head to work."
Her head disappeared back into the hallway, and the door slid shut. Shinji groaned, then rose from the mat and stood up, stretching.
"I am a terrible liar," he muttered to himself.
Iᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴋᴇᴅ ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ, Sʜɪɴᴊɪ. Tʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ ɪs ᴏᴜᴛʟᴀɴᴅɪsʜ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀ ᴄʟᴜᴍsʏ ғᴀʟsᴇʜᴏᴏᴅ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪᴛ ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ.
"After what happened yesterday, I'm starting to think it's actually just the normal level of crazy." He shrugged off his sleeping shirt and walked over to the closet. "I really don't want to get strapped to an operating table because of you."
I ᴡɪʟʟ sᴀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ғᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ʜᴏsᴛs ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀsᴛ, ᴛᴏ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ.
"That's really not helping."
He fished his spare uniform out of the closet, slipping on his pants and buttoning up his white shirt. As soon as he took a step he felt something was off, and he looked down to see that he was showing more ankle than usual. The shirt felt shorter, too, just enough to be annoying.
"Is this puberty?"
A sɪᴅᴇ ᴇғғᴇᴄᴛ ᴏғ ᴏᴜʀ ʙᴏɴᴅ. Eᴠᴇɴ ɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴏssᴇss ᴠɪᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ғᴀʀ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇsᴛ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ.
Shinji frowned. "I'm not going to have a beard by the end of the week, am I?"
Nᴏ. There was a twinge of amusement in the voice. Yᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ sɪᴍᴘʟʏ ᴀs ᴛᴀʟʟ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪᴅᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʙᴇ, ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴀʀɪᴏᴜs ᴇɴᴠɪʀᴏɴᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ғᴀᴄᴛᴏʀs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴜsᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴀᴍᴘᴇʀ ɢʀᴏᴡᴛʜ.
"Oh. Well, that's neat. I guess."
Grabbing his backpack, he stepped out of the room -his room, he had to remind himself- and made his way to the dining room. Misato was sitting at the table, hastily dressed in her uniform and a can of coffee in hand. A penguin was in the seat next to her, reading a newspaper, and Shinji brushed past him to grab some bread and pop it into the toaster.
He froze. Penguin?
Aɴ ᴜɴᴜsᴜᴀʟ sɪɢʜᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪs ᴘʟᴀɴᴇᴛ?
Slowly, he looked behind him. Slowly, the penguin turned from his newspaper and looked into his eyes, looking equally confused.
"Wark," said the penguin.
Shinji made a baffled squawk of his own, the toast forgotten.
"Miss Misato-" he called, the power of speech failing him for the rest of the sentence.
"Hmm?" She glanced his way with baggy eyes, which then widened. "Oh! Shinji, meet Pen-Pen. Pen-Pen, Shinji."
"Um." He offered a little wave, even as he realized how stupid it was. "Hi?"
"Wark." Pen-Pen looked back to his newspaper.
"Yeah, he's our other roomie," Misato said, sounding awfully chipper. "He's a hot springs penguin, from the Markham Subterranean Biosphere."
That actually rung a bell. He recalled some of the history and biology textbooks his teacher gave him over the years, the closest things he had to gifts.
"Didn't that-"
"Yep," Misato said, rather forcefully.
That sounded like a topic to avoid. Shinji suddenly found himself interested in the toaster again, and he grabbed his breakfast and sat down.
Oʜ, ʏᴏᴜ sᴛɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴅ? I sᴜᴘᴘᴏsᴇ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ.
Shinji ignored the comment, focusing on his meal. Glancing across the table, his eyes fell on the necklace Misato had about her neck. He'd noticed it before, in the -utterly indecent- picture she'd given him as part of his summons to the city. At first he'd thought it was a Christian cross of plain steel, but now that he could look closer, he could see some slight markings, more like different textures in the metal that caught the light than anything else.
"What's that?" he asked.
A look of surprise crossed her face, then she looked down at her chest and smirked. "You see Shinji, girls and boys are different..."
"I was asking about your necklace," he interrupted, softly.
She seemed like she was going to poke more fun, but instead she took her cross in hand, looking at it.
"It's from my father," she said. "Church he was part of. Never got very popular here."
"What church?"
"Doesn't really matter now," she said. "Not when its god is dead."
She stood up, chair screeching as it was pushed back, then slung a purse over her shoulder.
"C'mon," she said, cheerfully. "Let's get you to school!"
She walked out the door, and Shinji watched for a few moments. Finishing his toast in a hurry, he shouldered his bag and followed after her.
"Well that was weird," he said quietly.
I ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ I ʀᴇᴄᴏɢɴɪᴢᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sʏᴍʙᴏʟ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇxᴛ ɪs sᴏʀᴇʟʏ ʟᴀᴄᴋɪɴɢ.
"You and me both," Shinji said, following a fair bit behind his new guardian. "At least school will be so boring I'll forget about it."
I ᴀᴍ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪᴛ. I ᴀᴍ ᴀ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ I ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛs ʜɪsᴛᴏʀʏ sɪɴᴄᴇ ᴍʏ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴠɪsɪᴛ. Tʜɪs ɪs ᴀɴ ᴏᴘᴘᴏʀᴛᴜɴɪᴛʏ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀʀɴ.
Shinji snorted. "I think you'll be in for a lot of surprises."
Hᴏᴡ sᴏ?
Despite himself, he felt a little grin at being the one in the know for once. "You'll see."
†
The cast had to be removed for the injection, as her other arm didn't have any veins near the surface of her skin that were ideal for the procedure. It didn't really matter- her arm had healed within an hour of the incident with Unit-00, and her missing eye had regrown the hour after that. In fact, the cast had been a hinder rather than an aid, restricting her movement and allowing dead skin to build up.
She did not know why she was to feign injury, but she did not ask why.
Doctor Akagi brushed some of the flakes of skin off the crook of Rei's elbow with a gloved hand, then produced the syringe. There was no application of iodine beforehand as the thick needle jabbed into the vein, surprisingly difficult to find despite her pale skin. Doctor Akagi pressed the plunger forward slowly, and Rei closed her eyes, letting the pain wash over her.
Already she could feel her muscles tightening beneath her skin, coiling with a strength that would've broken bone if the serum didn't also target her skeleton. Her heart began to pound within her chest, then slowed, far more sluggish than before.
"Rei."
Her eyes opened. The world came into greater focus, as if it had become more real than before, hidden sights and sounds becoming known. Akagi's revulsion brewed deep within, hidden under layers of memory and professional drive. Then, there was the deliberate void nearby, one she knew she was to never peer inside.
"Commander," she said.
He stood at the foot of her bed, studying her. Cautiously? Warmly? She did not know. She never knew.
"This is a dose from a fresher sample," he said. "You may find it discomforting, for a short while."
"I cannot be made uncomfortable," she said.
"Good." He straightened his glasses. "You are now discharged. You shall resume classes at the high school this morning. The Third shall be in your homeroom, and when she arrives this week the Second shall also be your classmate."
"I understand."
"Observe them," he said. "Report to me any behavior that may endanger their ability to pilot."
She nodded. The commander then turned without a word, and though she did not feel, the smallest ghost of a frown crossed her lips as she watched him walk out of the room.
Doctor Akagi stood up. "We'll need to put new dressings on you before you go to school. Under no circumstances are you to indicate you are not injured."
"Yes."
The blonde frowned, then lit a cigarette and took a puff, before grabbing some dressings from the medical tray. She started to wrap Rei's arm tightly, perhaps more tightly than was needed. Rei's nose crinkled at the acrid smell of the smoke, and her eyes fell upon the glowing orange ember. The doctor seemed to notice.
"Hmm," was all she said.
†
Even half-empty the classroom had more kids in it than his entire school back home. Much like his school back home, however, they all ignored him, only a few sparing him a glance before looking back to their friends, speaking in hushed and frantic voices. He didn't mind, though- in fact, it was probably for the best that they ignored him. He was used to being the wallpaper.
The laptop under his arm felt strangely heavy. He'd never actually used a computer beyond the ones at the library in his old town, and he wondered if it would even work the same.
Iғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇʀɴᴇᴅ, I ᴄᴀɴ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪᴄᴇ.
"How would you know?" Shinji said, scarcely a whisper. "You're not exactly from around here."
I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴏɴᴅᴇᴅ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ sᴄɪᴇɴᴛɪsᴛs, ᴀʀᴛɪsᴀɴs, ᴇɴɢɪɴᴇᴇʀs, ᴀɴᴅ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇʀs ᴏғ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘʀᴏғᴇssɪᴏɴs, ᴀᴄʀᴏss ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛʟᴇss ᴄɪᴠɪʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴅɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ᴛᴇᴄʜɴᴏʟᴏɢɪᴄᴀʟ ʙʀᴇᴀᴅᴛʜs ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴘᴛʜs. Tʜᴇɪʀ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ ɪs ɴᴏᴡ ᴍʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ. A ʟᴀᴘᴛᴏᴘ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ɴᴏ ᴄʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢᴇ.
"Sorry," Shinji mumbled.
Fᴏʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ?
"I don't know," he replied. "I guess it's just a reflex. Sorry."
Yᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢɪᴢᴇ, Sʜɪɴᴊɪ Iᴋᴀʀɪ.
Despite himself, he felt the ghost of a smile.
He had his pick of seats, and so he chose one near the back, right next to the tall windows that more or less served as one of the walls of the classroom. The sun shone through the windows, and he soaked in the warmth as he sat down and set up his laptop.
Tʜᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀғᴀᴄᴇ ɪs sɪᴍᴘʟᴇ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ.
"I kinda figured that myself." Shinji clicked the homework folder, then paused. "That thing you said earlier, about their knowledge becoming yours. Does that mean you know, um, know everything in my head?"
Nᴏ. Tᴇᴄʜɴɪᴄᴀʟ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴀs ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀʏ. I ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴏғ ᴡʜᴏ ᴛᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɪᴛ. I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴇʟʟᴏ ɪғ I ʜᴀᴅ ʜᴀɴᴅs, ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴏᴍᴇᴠᴇʀ ɪɴsᴘɪʀᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ ɪᴛ ɪs ᴀ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ.
Shinji let out a breath. "That's good. I mean, not that... my memories are my memories."
Tʜᴇ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ɪs ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ. Wᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ғᴏʀᴛᴜɴᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟᴇᴇᴅᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴏɴʟʏ sʜᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀʏ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀs.
Shinji looked away from the screen. "I think I know what you're talking about."
A ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ. Tᴡɪɴ sᴜɴs ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ.
"I think I saw those twin suns again," Shinji whispered. "In-"
"Godzilla," he heard one of his classmates say.
He looked over at one of the huddles of students, the word pulling him in like a hook. They were talking about Godzilla, debating whether or not he'd come back. He idly realized they should've been too quiet to hear, but he also should've been a normal child, not the host to some alien.
The teacher walked in, a worn old man that made Shinji feel tired just looking at him, and the talking died down, only to be replaced by the clicking of keyboards. Shinji noticed the laptop had a student chat section, which appeared to be blowing up.
aida_k: that sound yesterday morning was him, guys
aida_k: it's just like the recordings and history books
nozomi_a: bullshit
aida_k: people here could hear his roar all the way from mount fuji when he fought king kong
arashi_m: my dad said he died in second impact
horaki_h: my dad had to lie down on the couch when he heard the roar
horaki_h: i believe kensuke
aida_k: thanks, class rep
aida_k: he definitely killed the angel
aida_k: they sent cbrn units to the site that got closed off
aida_k: the n means nuclear
suzuhara_t: how are you not in a black van yet man
nozomi_a: +aida_k could've been anything
nozomi_a: the press is saying jack
aida_k: let's ask the transfer
aida_k: anyone know his ping
aida_k: seriously?
horaki_h: +ikari_s did you see anything?
Shinij glanced around the classroom, and saw three students looking right at him. A tall boy in a tracksuit, with tan skin and short-cut hair; a freckled girl with brown hair pulled into pigtails, and a bespectacled boy that Shinji automatically identified as the one who'd been talking everyone's ears off about Godzilla. He looked back to his laptop, and sighed.
ikari_s: i saw him
The one with glasses -Kensuke, Shinij figured- let out a strangled sound that sounded uncomfortably like Pen-Pen, while a few more students suddenly began to look over before going back to their computers.
aida_k: WHAT WAS HE LIKE
nozomi_a: bullshit
aida_k: TELL ME
horaki_h: that must've been scary
aida_k: PLEASE
Well, at least they weren't asking about NERV business. Miss Misato hadn't seemed all too concerned about him revealing anything about Godzilla coming back, or at least hadn't bothered to tell him everything he saw yesterday was classified.
ikari_s: he was big
suzuhara_t: no shit
ikari_s: he smelled like hot metal
ikari_s: there was still seawater dripping off him
arashi_m: i don't believe you
suzuhara_t: +arashi_m and i don't care
suzuhara_t: +ikari_s bad day to transfer in amirite
Shinji grimaced. If they only knew half of it. He exited the chat window and decided to go back to the homework folder- the teacher was rambling on about Second Impact, so nothing of value to be lost by not paying attention. He was done with the assignments rather quickly- one of the blessings -or curses- of living with a teacher was that just about everything in school was old news.
Tʜɪs ᴛᴏᴘɪᴄ ɪs ᴀsᴛᴏɴɪsʜɪɴɢ.
Well, old news to him, anyway.
"I thought you knew what I know?
Yᴇs, ᴀɴᴅ I ᴅᴇsɪʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪs sᴏ-ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ "Sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ Iᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛ".
"I thought the giant monsters would be the bigger surprise."
I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴏʀɢᴀɴɪsᴍs ᴏғ ᴜɴᴜsᴜᴀʟ sɪᴢᴇ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ. The voice had a knowing tone, along with something else Shinji couldn't pin. I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ʜᴏsᴛs ɪɴ ᴅᴇғᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴋɪʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ.
Shinji blinked. "You're that strong?"
Eɴᴛɪʀᴇ ᴄɪᴠɪʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴡᴏʀsʜɪᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟᴇss ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴡɪᴇʟᴅ, Sʜɪɴᴊɪ.
He swallowed. "That's terrifying."
As ɪᴛ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ. Yᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴍᴇᴀɴs ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ɪᴛ.
Shinji focused on the computer screen. "Let's focus on something else. Do you want me to look up stuff on Second Impact for you?"
Yᴇs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ.
Shinji obliged him, pulling up the main article about Second Impact on the online encyclopedia, the scrollbar little more than a thin block. A familiar photo popped up- a view of Antarctica from orbit, split in twain by the sea, its ice shelves scattered into a thousand-strong archipelago.
Pʟᴇᴀsᴇ sᴄʀᴏʟʟ.
He began to slowly move the scrollbar down.
Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ғᴀsᴛ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ. Wᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴀʀsᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.
Shinji's brow furrowed, but he did as requested, the words rushing through the screen, and in a few seconds he was at the end of the main article. Blinking a few times, he scrolled back to the top.
"What did you want to read next? I know the section about the wet bulb incidents and its relationship to the India-Pakistan War was-"
He paused. He didn't know anything about how wet-bulb incidents impacted the start of the India-Pakistan War. He didn't even know there were wet-bulb incidents in that region after Second Impact. Yet he did. He suddenly recalled the wording of his 'guest'- we will be able to parse the information.
Without prompt, he selected the first of the related articles listed, scrolled through it in a heartbeat, then repeated the process. A strange excitement came over him as he realized what he could learn before class was done. When the encyclopedia articles were done, he moved on to the primary sources themselves, only to find that most of them were behind paywalls.
I ʜᴀᴅ ᴀʟᴍᴏsᴛ ғᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴏᴄɪᴇᴛʏ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴜsᴇs ᴍᴏɴᴇʏ. The disdain in his guest's voice was clear. Aʟʟᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇsᴏʟᴠᴇ ᴛʜɪs. Pᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴜᴛᴇʀ.
Shinji splayed a hand over the keyboard, unsure of what he was supposed to do next. Suddenly, the screen changed, and he saw that the paywall was no longer there, the article available for the two of them to read. After everything else, he wasn't very surprised his guest could do that.
I ᴡɪʟʟ sᴀʏ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪʀᴄᴜᴍsᴛᴀɴᴄᴇs ᴏғ ᴛʜɪs ɪᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛ ᴀʀᴇ... sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ.
"I mean, we've been hit by asteroids before." Shinji selected the next article. "A big one killed the dinosaurs."
Yᴇs, ᴀ ʙɪɢ ᴏɴᴇ. I ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴡɪsʜ ᴛᴏ ɪᴍᴘᴏsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴀɢᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴠᴇʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ғᴀɪʀ sʜᴀʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴀsᴛᴇʀᴏɪᴅ ɪᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛs, ᴀɴᴅ I ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴇᴇɴ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏsᴍᴏs ᴛʜᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴄᴇᴅ ɪɴsᴛʀᴜᴍᴇɴᴛs. I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛɴᴇssᴇᴅ ᴀɴ ɪᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪʙᴇᴅ. Tʜᴇ sᴏʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴄᴏsᴍɪᴄ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡ ᴀɴ ᴀsᴛᴇʀᴏɪᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀᴀᴠᴇʟ ᴀᴛ .95ᴄ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ sᴘᴀᴄᴇ-ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴘᴏsɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴇɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴛᴏᴍɪᴢᴇ ᴏʀ sᴘᴀɢʜᴇᴛᴛɪғʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ ɪɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ.
Shinji frowned. "But it can still happen, right?"
Pᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴀsɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴅᴅs ᴏғ ᴏɴᴇ sᴜʀᴠɪᴠɪɴɢ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs sᴛɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴏғ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴠɪᴛʏ. Eᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴘᴀʀsᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀsᴛᴇʟʟᴀʀ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴜᴍ, ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴍᴇʀᴇ ᴀᴛᴏᴍ ᴘᴇʀ ᴄᴜʙɪᴄ ᴄᴇɴᴛɪᴍᴇᴛᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪs ʀᴇɢɪᴏɴ ᴏғ sᴘᴀᴄᴇ, ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴀᴅᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴄᴏɴsɪᴅᴇʀᴀʙʟʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʀᴀᴠᴇʟɪɴɢ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ʏᴇᴀʀs.
"I think my teacher told me about a type of spaceship that counted on those atoms to be used as fuel. A buzzard- no, um..."
Bᴜssᴀʀᴅ ʀᴀᴍᴊᴇᴛ. Aɴ ɪɴɢᴇɴɪᴏᴜs ɪᴅᴇᴀ, ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴋ. I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ sʜᴀʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛs ᴏғ ɪɴᴛᴇʀsᴛᴇʟʟᴀʀ ᴛʀᴀᴠᴇʟ, ʙᴜᴛ ғᴏʀ ɴᴏᴡ ᴡᴇ sʜᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ sᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ ᴀᴛ ʜᴀɴᴅ. Tʜᴀᴛ ᴀsᴛᴇʀᴏɪᴅ ᴍᴀʏ sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀsᴛᴇʟʟᴀʀ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴜᴍ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴏᴛ sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴜsᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏʟᴀʀ sʏsᴛᴇᴍ, ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ɪs ғᴀʀ ᴛʜɪᴄᴋᴇʀ. Iᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ʟᴜᴄᴋʏ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀᴛᴏᴍɪᴢᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ Oᴏʀᴛ Cʟᴏᴜᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀ sᴜʀᴠɪᴠɪɴɢ ʀᴏᴄᴋ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴅᴇᴛᴇᴄᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴅᴇsᴘɪᴛᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛsᴘᴇᴇᴅ ʟᴀɢ ᴅᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀᴅɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ғʟᴀʀᴇᴜᴘs.
Shinji thought back to a picture he'd seen of an orbital space station the Soviets had built in the 80's before they were forced to abandon it after Second Impact, how the hull looked as though it'd been sandblasted and pockmarked, all from motes of dust. All from going a tiny fraction of the distance the asteroid would have to travel.
"So you're saying an asteroid couldn't have caused Second Impact." Shinji's throat rather suddenly felt dry. "Then what happened?"
I ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ. Iғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡ ɪᴛ, ᴡᴇ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ-
The voice suddenly fell quiet, the presence of his guest retreating within. Shinji could hear some of the students shifting in their seats, as if reacting to the same thing. He followed their gazes, and saw the strangest human being he'd ever seen standing in the doorway. She was pale, far paler than he thought a person could be, with blue hair in a roughly-trimmed bob. Her eye, or at least the eye not covered in a medical patch, was dark red, contrasting with her white face like a drop of blood on paper.
It was also staring right at him.
Shinji fought the urge to shiver.
"Ah, Ayanami," the teacher said. "I was told you'd be returning to class today. Take a seat."
Ayanami strode into the classroom, clutching a bookbag with the arm not in a cast, and despite his hopes that she would choose a seat farther away, each step brought her closer and closer to Shinji. As she approached, he could see just how pale she was, her skin a map of blue veins, yet what unsettled him the most was the sense of familiarity. He felt like he'd seen her before, this girl he'd never met until today- she even smelled familiar.
Her eye was still staring at him before she took the seat right behind his. Shinji forced himself to look back to the computer, and saw that something had somehow been typed on his word processor.
CANNOT TALK. NOT NOW.
He felt as though he was being watched, and risked a glance behind him. Ayanami was looking out the window, leaning her face on her hand, yet it still felt as though her eye was boring into his soul.
He fought down a groan. This was going to be a long day.
†
And a long day it was. All he could do was idly slowly read more articles between glances at the clock whose hands scarcely seemed to move, and all the while fight the urge to look back at the strange girl behind him.
The bell finally rang for the end of class, and he all but bolted upright, hurriedly stuffing his laptop into his bag and zipping it shut. Then he saw movement in his peripheral vision, and realized Ayanami had already gotten up from her seat and was walking past him. Despite himself, he turned to look at her, and she stopped to look at him as well.
Their gazes held for a moment. Ayanami seemed to be studying him, nonplussed by the students jostling by as the classroom began to empty. Her eye somehow seemed even more red than before. Then, for the briefest of moments, it went from dark red to bright orange-
twin suns on the water
-Ayanami suddenly blinked, and her eye was back to normal, or her version of normal. She broke her gaze first and walked away, suddenly in a hurry. Shinji watched her go, and it was only when she was out of sight that his shoulders relaxed and he let out a long sigh.
Tʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟ.
"You're back?" Shinji made sure no one was looking before he continued. "What was that about?"
Tʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴜɴᴜsᴜᴀʟ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ Aʏᴀɴᴀᴍɪ.
He fought the urge to snort. "I figured-"
Sʜᴇ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ. Nᴏᴛ ᴇɴᴛɪʀᴇʟʏ.
Shinji glanced back at the empty doorway. "How do you know?"
Oᴜʀ ʙᴏɴᴅ ɪs ᴘsʏᴄʜɪᴄ ɪɴ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ, Sʜɪɴᴊɪ. I ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴍɪɴᴅs, ʙᴜᴛ I ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴇɴ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ɪs ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴍɪɴᴇ. Aɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʟᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴍᴇ ʜᴀᴅ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟsᴇ ᴍɪxᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴇssᴇɴᴄᴇ.
"She... she doesn't know, does she?"
Nᴏ. I ᴀᴍ ᴏᴘᴀᴏ̨ᴜᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ I sᴏ ᴅᴇsɪʀᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʙʏ ᴇxᴛᴇɴsɪᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀs ᴡᴇʟʟ. Sʜᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇʟʏ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴏᴘᴀᴄɪᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴄᴜʀɪᴏᴜs. As ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀs I ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ ᴏ̨ᴜɪᴇᴛ, sʜᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ.
Shinji's grip on his bag tightened. "I hope you're right."
Then, he blinked. "Do you think that... psychic part of you is why I couldn't sync with the Eva?"
I ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ sᴏ. I ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍᴜᴄʜ, ᴀs I ᴡᴀs sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ʏᴏᴜ, ʙᴜᴛ I ᴅᴏ ʀᴇᴄᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴏ-ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʟ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ Eᴠᴀ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴏᴜʀs. Pᴇʀʜᴀᴘs ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴғᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sʏsᴛᴇᴍ.
"You're the transfer, right?" another voice suddenly said.
He glanced to the side, and saw the boy with glasses walking over. Behind him was the taller boy in the tracksuit.
"Um, yeah. I'm Shinji."
"Kensuke." The bespectacled boy pointed back with his thumb. "That's Toji."
Toji simply gave a curt nod, and Shinji returned it.
"So you're new around here, right?" Kensuke pushed his glasses up. "If you want, me and Toji could show you some of the sights this Saturday. There's a pretty good viewing station where you can check out the Road of the Gods, all the way up to Fuji Crater."
"He just wants to grill you about seeing Godzilla," Toji interjected.
Kensuke elbowed him lightly. "No I don't."
Toji returned the elbow, nearly knocking the shorter kid's glasses off. "Yeah, you do."
The tall boy offered Shinji a glance. "This guy's obsessed with kaiju. Dude has collectibles, books, crappy movies-"
"Says the guy with an Anguirus bedspread?" Kensuke retorted.
Toji puffed his chest. "He's a hero who saved my old town. That's just due respect."
"Uh huh."
Shinji cleared his throat. "Um, I-"
I ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜɪs "Rᴏᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ Gᴏᴅs", ɪғ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪs sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʜᴜᴍᴏʀ ᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ.
"-can go," he finished. "As long as it's before one in the afternoon. I have something to do."
"Sweet! You can find the observation post on the map if you want to meet us there."
Shinji nodded. "Sure."
Toji elbowed Kensuke again. "C'mon, let's get back."
"See you Saturday," Kensuke said, offering a wave as he left the room.
Shinji shook his head and shouldered his bag.
Tʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ᴀɢʀᴇᴇɪɴɢ.
"It's nothing. It seems only fair after you, well, brought me back to life."
Yᴏᴜ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ɪɴᴅᴇʙᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ. Iғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴡɪsʜ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴄᴏᴇʀᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ.
Shinji smiled. "No, it's not like that. It's... I guess I don't know. But maybe I'll find out."
With that, he followed the others out of the classroom.
†
"Did you already move into another apartment?" Ritsuko asked, casually glancing around the living room.
Misato squinted at her friend over her third can of beer. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Ritsuko offered a wry smirk and pushed her glasses back up. "Oh, nothing, it's just that the apartment's so... clean."
"So obviously it means I moved into a new one, huh?" A laugh. "Who says I didn't clean up-"
"Me."
"-when you consider that people are capable of amazing changes, Rits. Who knows, it might've actually been me who cleaned up the place."
"It might've actually been Shinji."
Misato sat straighter on the floor mat and melodramatically cast her gaze down. "It might've been Shinji."
Ritsuko let out a short laugh, and Misato followed suit, chuckling to herself. Sighing, she leaned back, supporting herself on her hands. It was another lazy afternoon in eternal summer- even the light of the sun itself felt sluggish, pouring in through the balcony window rather than shining. She was sure to savor it- you never knew when it could be your last chance.
"I must say, he made quick work of cleaning up," Ritsuko commented. "He only moved in, what, four days ago?"
"Three, actually."
"Hm. He's surprisingly productive, I'll give him that." Ritsuko took a timid sip of her beer. "How has he been taking to it? Being your roommate, I mean."
Misato knew it was more than just the roommate situation that Ritsuko wanted to know about. Looking her friend's way, she offered a slight shrug.
"About as well as you could hope. I mean, I didn't know him before we both nearly got stepped on by an Angel and came face-to-face with Godzilla, but I read his file, so I guess I kinda have a feel for what he's normally like..."
Ritsuko coughed, and Misato rolled her eyes.
"He's about as withdrawn as I expected. Hardly leaves his room when he's here, and even when he's not in the room he's not exactly chatty. School's going okay. He mentioned doing something with some classmates tomorrow, so I'm glad he seems to be trying to make friends. I remember how hard it was for me at his age."
She sipped her beer. "Apparently Ayanami freaked him out a little his first day at school."
"She has a tendency to do that."
"Anyway, I guess that's about it. Not like he talks to me about a lot of stuff." Misato paused, then laughed a little. "Actually, he does talk a lot now that I think about it, just not to anyone."
Ritsuko became still, seemingly forgetting about the can of beer in her hand. "He talks to himself?"
"Yeah, he does vocal warmups-"
"Like he's having a conversation?" Ritsuko set the can down, peering over her glasses with narrowed eyes. "How often does he talk to himself?"
Misato sat up, brow furrowed. "Rits, it's just vocal warmups. He does it in the morning, says it keeps his voice young."
"And you're sure it's just in the morning?"
"I seriously doubt he's hearing voices in his head." Misato frowned. "Where did all of this come from? You're not seriously worried, are you?"
Ritsuko pushed her glasses up with a shrug, her posture relaxed. "No, but you can't be too careful when you're dealing with our only hopes against the Angels."
She paused, then suddenly chuckled. "Vocal warmups, eh? I wonder if they do actually keep your voice young. Maybe I could start doing them in the office."
Misato grinned. "Please no. My ears have gotten enough punishment this week from Godzilla, thank you very much."
"Speaking of, I finally got around to reading your report. About your encounter with him, I mean."
"Uh huh. What about it?"
Ritsuko took a sip of her beer. "I still find it a little hard to believe at parts. You're absolutely sure he caught the VTOL?"
"As sure as the sky is blue," Misato said. "He didn't just bat it out of the way, and it didn't just clip him on the way down and missed, if that's what you're thinking. He had to go out of his way to keep it from landing on us, and I can't figure out why he'd do it."
"My point exactly," said Ritsuko. "It goes completely against his established behavior. Regardless of professional opinions on his intelligence, no one denies he rather emphatically does not like us. I'm shocked he didn't decide to step on you himself."
Misato pursed her lips. Again she imagined the sight of Godzilla's eyes, but this time she didn't feel the endless summer heat or the false rain of seawater, but the biting cold.
"There was that one person he cared about, though," she said instead. "The psychic girl from the seventies, Saegusa or something."
"Miki Saegusa was the exception that proved the rule, and that came straight from her." Ritsuko moved to reach for a cigarette, then seemed to remember the no-smoking rule and curled her hand instead. "Besides, both she and her child are dead, and as far as records indicate that was that for the family line."
"That we know of." Misato waggled her eyebrows. "Who knows, maybe I unknowingly have a little psychic in me?"
Ritsuko looked down at her beer. "Heh... if you were psychic you'd already know I'm thinking you had too much to drink."
"I'm fine," Misato retorted, waving a hand dismissively. "Not everyone gets conked out on half a can. Not like I'm driving anywhere today, either."
"The more important thing to consider is, do you really want to be hungover when you go to pick up Asuka tomorrow?"
Misato paused, then slowly slid her beer can across the table. "Touché."
"When is her flight coming in?"
"She's taking a suborbital shuttle tomorrow and will be here at one in the afternoon."
"And you remember that you're taking her straight to testing as soon as she arrives, correct?"
"I know," Misato said. "I understand why. If an Angel attacks even ten minutes before she arrives, humanity could be extinct by rush hour. That still wouldn't change the fact she'll be incredibly cranky from jet lag when she gets here."
"I'd rather have a jet-lagged pilot than no pilot at all." Ritsuko shrugged. "At least, assuming we can't fix Shinji's sync issue."
Misato stood up and waltzed over to the fridge, making sure to get blood rushing through her legs after sitting for so long. She grabbed herself a water bottle and sat back down, unscrewing the cap. When it came to hangovers -of which she'd had many- an ounce of prevention was worth a pound of cure, at least in her book.
"I'm planning things under the assumption you can fix the problem," she said, taking a sip.
"Is that why you requested for her to live with you?"
"Well, I was her guardian for a while in Germany, and she could use a familiar face in a strange land." Capping the bottle, she leaned back again. "But I want my pilots to socialize with each other, too. Assuming you fix that bug in Unit-01, they're going to be together in a fight we have no idea we can win. When I was in the SSDF, they told us that the only person you can trust in a fight is the person beside you, and that's going to be true even if you're piloting an Eva."
"I don't think Asuka and Shinji are going to become a band of brothers anytime soon," Ritsuko commented, finishing the last of her beer.
Misato looked at her water, then leaned forward and took another pull. "Maybe not, but those two are going to be the ones out there saving the world."
Ritsuko made a strange face at that, but said nothing.
†
The spaceplane was a pre-Impact passenger liner meant for fifty people, but today it would ferry only one.
She chose a seat by the window, buckling herself in then leaning her head back with closed eyes. Even after making sure to go to bed earlier she was still exhausted- it was simply unnatural to be waking up at three in the morning. Why was she the one being inconvenienced by time zones? She was the most important person in the world- Misato couldn't wait until the evening to pick her up?
A dainty older stewardess who rather blatantly had a Section-II sidearm in her jacket checked to see if she was secure. Asuka forced a smile as she nodded, then awkwardly tried to wave her off. Thankfully, the stewardess moved back to the front, probably for security purposes, and once again she was alone.
She didn't mind. Really. She was used to being alone.
Thankfully she didn't have to wait long for the shuttle to start moving- a perk of air traffic being cleared for her, no doubt. The acceleration was smooth, gently pressing her into the cushioned seat. Peeking out the window, already she could see the ground falling away, the constrained sprawl of Berlin looking more like a model set than a living, breathing city.
Out in the distance, she could faintly see two moving silhouettes against the night sky. Fighter aircraft, serving as an escort. She idly wondered how much military hardware was being dedicated to watching her flight and ensuring it was safe from accidents or ill intent.
The angle steepened, until she was all but lying on her back. The only sign that the plane switched from its scramjets to fusion thermal was a change in the airframe's slight rumbling. The shuttle was based off old Xilien designs according to the promotional pamphlet at the spaceport, time-tested and safe, even if the performance wasn't as good as some later models. Safety was good when you had humanity's last best hope aboard.
The sky darkened, the blue fading away as the air thinned, and it was only a few minutes later that the engines cut off, and weightlessness came over her. She supposed she should've felt some sort of sublime glee at being in space, casually fulfilling what'd been the dream of countless people for untold generations, but transcendent joy seemed to be in short supply.
Above her, a speaker chimed. "This is your captain speaking. Laßwitz-27 will arrive at Tokyo-3 spaceport in fifty-four minutes. Please remain seated until we complete our rotation. You will be able to enjoy weightless out of your seat for twenty-two minutes before we begin reentry."
There was a slight lurch as the shuttle activated its thrusters and rotated slowly to have its heatshield face sunward. Then a green light blinked to life, signaling it was safe, and Asuka unbuckled. She was careful to give the scarcest of pushes as she drifted towards the porthole in the ceiling, gripping two of the countless little plastic loops to secure herself.
The part of Earth they flew over was still obscured in night, but the city lights outlined the continents in off-white, providing a near-perfect map. It wasn't hard to find Berlin, and she stared at it, watching the only home she'd known her entire life recede at several thousand miles an hour. Goodbye to crisp mornings and chilly nights, goodbye to all of her favorite stores and libraries and theaters.
She knew she would have to leave eventually, but it still hurt more than she expected. Pushing against the padded ceiling with her thumbs, she drifted back to her seat and buckled again. Suddenly, the stunning view didn't seem all that stunning.
†
It did not know for how long it had curled itself around the warm stone, only that it was a welcome respite from the deep chill of the abyss, and that was all that mattered.
It had found the stone, round and red like blood, after the shaking of the earth and the breaking of the ice had disturbed its long slumber. How long after? It did not know, nor did it care. It had been confused and weak after its forced awakening, unable to find the nourishment it needed. Then it had found the stone, and at last it could rest again.
Until now.
Its eyes snapped open, its dreaming brought to an abrupt end as the roiling waves of superheated water became too much for even its thick hide. Recoiling, it backpedaled from the now-blinding light of the stone, its muscles screaming as blood was forced through atrophied veins. Instincts clashed within its animal brain, whether to run from danger or to avoid losing nourishment, and that clash paralyzed it.
The light dimmed, only for a new pain to scream its presence with the hiss of boiling water. Tendrils of fire wrapped about its torso, searing its thick skin and pulling with unexpected strength back towards the dying light. Instead of the smooth hard surface of the stone, however, it found itself pressed against cold and chitinous flesh, the tendrils becoming bindings that secured it to the interloper.
The seafloor erupted into clouds of silt as they suddenly ascended, slicing through the dark waters. It tried to struggle, to pull away, but the burning tendrils grew hotter when it did, and quickly it learned to stay still.
Screaming, however, was still an option.
†
"-even before NERV, before it was called Tokyo-3, this place still earned its spot in kaiju history! Right there, where you're looking? That was where the greatest battle in kaiju, no, just in plain history was fought."
Shinji nodded absentmindedly, looking through the worn tower-viewer at the mix of abandoned city and overgrown forest sprawled out before him. It honestly didn't look much like a battlefield- then again, he didn't know what battlefields normally looked like, so perhaps it actually looked perfectly like a battlefield.
Tʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ sɪɢɴs. I ᴄᴀɴ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ, ᴀɴᴅ sᴏ sʜᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ.
Looking more closely, Shinji realized he could see some signs of something off having happened. Gaps between the low buildings, likely where they had been crushed underfoot by kaiju, along with strange outcroppings of rock or worn craters in the ground. There was also an awfully straight river that he was fairly certain was the so-called Road of the Gods.
"We still don't actually know how many kaiju were there," Kensuke continued excitedly. "Not a lot of witnesses or cameras when everyone was running away. The confirmed count is still fourteen, though. Fourteen kaiju! All of them led there by Godzilla himself to fight off King Ghidorah!"
I ᴄᴀɴ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴs ᴏғ sᴏᴍᴇ.
Shinji saw what he meant. It was hard to tell, with how overgrown with foliage they were, but he could see the skeleton of a kaiju, probably the one the Americans called Behemoth. It was the only one he could think of who had tusks like a mammoth, curling twelve stories into the air.
"Ghidorah killed at least seven of them. Accounts claim he managed to take out both Yonggary and Bulgasari in one hit."
"I remember my teacher telling me about it," Shinji said. He looked away from the viewer. "I think I see the Road, but it's hard to tell."
Kensuke frowned. "Yeah, it's a little hard to see, now. It's that river going towards Fuji Crater. Rain and silt's been filling it in for the past fifty years."
Shinji checked again, and indeed saw the river matched the width of the Road as described in the textbooks. It was surreal, seeing a trench wide enough to fit an ocean liner, created by a giant space dragon as it was blasted along the ground by atomic hellfire. It was even more surreal, now that he'd met the one who'd provided said hellfire, like history coming to life in the most terrifying way possible.
"It's a shame they didn't try to preserve the Road," Kensuke continued. "Apparently it used to be perfectly reflective glass, the same kind of glass the American atom bombs made in the desert, and it was so smooth-"
"-so smooth that if you rolled a coin down one end, it'd reach the other side, blah blah blah," Toji interjected. "Ya know, my grandpa on my mom's side said he and his friends tried that as kids, and it didn't work."
"They probably just didn't have anyone on the other side to grab them."
"Oh, calling my gramps dumb, huh?"
Shinji sighed and tried to ignore their bickering, instead studying the Road through the viewer. It was frightening how far it stretched into the distance.
Dɪᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʀᴘsᴇ?
"Hm?"
Oғ 'Kɪɴɢ Gʜɪᴅᴏʀᴀʜ'. There was a concerned, almost urgent tone to the voice. Dɪᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴏɴғɪʀᴍ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴅᴇᴀᴅ?
Shinji looked back at Kensuke and Toji. "Hey, did they ever find the body?"
Kensuke turned away from the argument. "What, of Ghidorah? Just some pieces, I think. He was probably all vaporized."
Fᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴋᴇ ᴏғ ᴀʟʟ, I ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʜᴇ ɪs ʀɪɢʜᴛ.
"You fought him?" Shinji whispered to himself.
Fɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ ɪs ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏғ ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪʙɪɴɢ ɪᴛ.
Shinji frowned and rubbed his temple. Something told him that was not a particularly enjoyable conversation topic. Glancing down at his watch, he saw he had about half an hour before he'd have to go back to the apartment, so he and Misato could go pick up that new pilot she'd been talking about.
As if on cue, the phone she'd given him rang, and he flipped it open to answer.
"Oh, Miss Misato, I can come back now if-"
"The pick-up's been cancelled, Shinji." There was a sound in the background of the call, and he realized she was driving. "You and your classmates need to start heading to the shelters, ASAP."
He was about to ask why when he heard it- the growing blare of an evacuation alarm, enveloping the city in its cry. Kensuke and Toji noticed it a moment or so later, stiffening at the sound.
"Asuka's going to be escorted to HQ as soon as she arrives so she can head out and fight the Angel. There are emergency shelters in the park; you can find them on the maps."
The line went dead, and Shinji numbly stuffed his phone back in his pocket. He looked back to the others, swallowing dryly.
"We, um, we need to get to shelter. Like right now."
Kensuke had a strange look on his face. "Oh, me and Toji will catch up with you."
"We will?"
"There's, uh, no bathrooms in the shelters, and we've been chugging water since we got up here."
Oʙᴊᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇʟʏ ɪɴᴄᴏʀʀᴇᴄᴛ.
Shinji slowly nodded. "Oh, uh, okay. I guess I'll see you there?"
"Yep!" Kensuke quickly waved. "See ya!"
The two started moving down the path in a hurry. Shinji watched them, brow scrunched, then turned and ran in the opposite direction. His feet pounded the path, the forest around him whizzing past as he ran far faster than he thought was possible. Just another reminder of how things had changed since he got his 'guest'.
"They're not going to the shelter, are they?" he said, not even out of breath.
Nᴏ. Aʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ?
Shinji skidded to a stop, the heels of his sneakers digging twin furrows in the dirt. His hand found his temple, eyes cast down.
"I don't know," he admitted, quietly.
There was a sound above him, and he craned his neck skyward to see a small triangular shape coming in low over the city, towards the main airport. That had to be the new transfer coming in to pilot the Evangelion. He still didn't know anything about her- Misato had been oddly tight-lipped about the whole thing, but he imagined she must've had some training.
"Maybe she can handle the Angel."
Pᴇʀʜᴀᴘs.
"Or maybe she can't pilot it, like I couldn't." He looked away. "Or maybe it'll be too powerful for her."
Tʜᴀᴛ ɪs ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴀ ᴘᴏssɪʙɪʟɪᴛʏ.
Shinji closed his eyes, fists clenched. "Why did you have to find me?"
Fᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴍᴇʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ, ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇs ɴᴏᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ. Wʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀs ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ, ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴡᴇ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ. Aɴᴅ ɪᴛ ɪs ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴡᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇ.
"My choice," he echoed.
He looked around. The path was empty, the only sounds the blaring of the alarm and the wind through the trees. There was a sign not to far away, giving directions to the shelter.
I mustn't run away.
He turned from the sign and ran off the path, heading towards the city.
†
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シン・Leviathan, Chapter Three: New Arrivals