Section I: Prima Materia, Sal. One: The Angel and the Valkyrie.
SEELE Provisional Headquarters, [REDACTED].
July 8th, 2015.
A hand clad in a white glove opened a mahogany drawer. It withdrew a parchment scroll sealed with seven seals. The red seal on the end was already broken, the inscription cracked down the middle. The seals were marked with seven divine names, the Hebrew letters glowing brightly through the gloom. The hand grasped the second seal, crushing it between its fingers. The orange wax shattered, releasing a muffled scream and a flash of blue light. A plume of greasy black smoke issued from within the scroll and a tremor shook dust off the walls of the room.
Beneath layers of bloody bandages, Kiel Lorenz's mouth stretched into a ghastly grin.
Sugar Grove Station, Sugar Grove, West Virginia, United States.
July 8th, 2015.
NATIONAL SECURITY AGENCY INTERNAL RECORDS: TOP SECRET.
AUDIO ONLY:
That's odd.
What is it?
I could have sworn we picked up an Anti-AT Field for a second there…but that's impossible.
Lemme see. *scraping sounds* Looks normal to me. *loud thud*
Yeah, I guess so… probably just a hardware issue.
Stupid broken tech. Anyway, I'm getting lunch. You want anything?
Nah, I'm good. By the way, are you–
END OF EXCERPT.
Atami, Shizuoka Prefecture, Japan.
July 8th, 2015.
Ikari Shinji stood beside a public telephone booth, waiting for a call that would never arrive. The sun beat down mercilessly. The air itself weighed down on the city like a damp shroud. It really is miserable down here. At least Matsumoto isn't this damp. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve, futile as it was in the oppressive heat. I can't believe people still live here. He picked up the phone, dialing a number from memory. As before, he was greeted with an automated reply.
"This line is currently inactive due to an active state of emergency…" Shinji tuned out the rest of the message. What am I going to do now? Reaching into his pocket, Shinji withdrew a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it, revealing a photograph of a grinning woman with dark hair. She was flashing a peace sign at the camera, with a sharpied-in arrow pointing down the front of her low-cut top.
Captain Katsuragi, huh? She was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago. He sighed. "She's not coming, is she?" She's abandoned you. Just like Father. Shinji shook his head, refusing to reopen that particular can of emotional trauma. "I need to get to a shelter," he muttered. "I can't just stay here." He folded the photo, sticking it back in his pocket. It's my own fault for expecting better. There's no way Father suddenly changed his mind about me.
He turned…and froze. A girl with blue hair was standing there. She fixed him with a curious look. Her eyes were the color of freshly drawn blood. Suddenly, a bird took flight. Shinji blinked… and she was gone.
An earthshaking explosion promptly drove the apparition from his mind. He whirled around. A swarm of UN VTOL jets buzzed overhead, firing rockets and missiles at an abomination. The creature loomed over Shinji, as tall as the buildings that fell in its wake. Its skin was coated in a glistening green slime, and it walked on thin, spindly legs. Bony plates stuck out of its body, framing a birdlike skull and a gleaming red orb sitting where a human would have a heart. The overall effect was that of a putrid corpse freshly exhumed from the grave. Heat shimmer danced around its vast hulk, and Shinji could feel static electricity standing his hairs on end. The acrid stench of ozone wafted from the creature, combined with the sickly odor of rotten flesh and a sharp note of pinesmoke.
As he watched, one of the VTOLs came too close to the monster. It looked up at the plane, almost curiously, before blowing it out of the sky. The burning jet tumbled down in a pall of greasy smoke, smashing into the ground nearby. Shinji ducked as shards of metal flew in every direction. The acrid smell of burnt plastic filled the air, and he gagged. At that moment, Shinji heard tires screeching behind him. A blue vintage car skidded to a halt in front of him. The passenger door flew open, revealing the driver; a woman dressed entirely in black. Captain Katsuragi? She grinned at him. "I'm sorry. Were you waiting long?" Shinji opened his mouth to reply, saw a sedan flying into the facade of a nearby skyscraper, and decided to save conversation for a later time. He got in, slammed the door shut, and Katsuragi floored the gas pedal. After about thirty seconds of speeding along the side streets, she finally turned onto the empty highway.
Shinji looked over at her. Captain Katsuragi was clearly lost in thought, absentmindedly shifting onto the entry ramp to another desolate highway, this one a six lane bound north towards Kanagawa Prefecture. The distant rumble of UN weaponry sounded in the distance. She came. So Father didn't change his mind about calling me to Tokyo-3. Shinji scratched his jaw. Why now, though? Misato cleared the city limits, as the buildings gave way to green foothills. As they rounded a bend, the snow-capped peak of Mount Fuji became visible for a moment. After a few more minutes, he spoke up. "Katsuragi-san?" She didn't respond, and Shinji tried again. "Katsuragi-san?" She started, looking over at him. "Yes, Shinji-kun?"
"What's going on? What is that… thing?"
Misato pulled onto the shoulder, rolling down the window. "An Angel, by the look of it."
She rummaged through the glove compartment, pulling out a pair of binoculars. "The UN Air Forces certainly aren't doing any damage," she noted offhandedly, slinging the binocular strap around her neck. "Shinji-kun, could you roll down your window?" Shinji did so. The hot, tropical air of the coast was pushed aside for a moment by a pleasant mountain breeze, and Shinji inhaled deeply–only for Misato to stick her head out the window, trampling him in the process. He opened his mouth to voice his indignation, only to be silenced as Misato's knee drove the breath out of his lungs. Ignoring the wheezing boy, the Captain scanned the horizon with the binoculars. Shinji leaned back and reflected on the surreality of the situation. We just escaped a giant kaiju in a vintage car. We're about to go visit my father, who lives in a hole like some kind of fucking hobbit. And–of course–there's a albino ghost girl just chilling in the middle of a Godzilla attack. All we need now is a comic relief animal, a mecha or two, and a ludicrously sized bomb…
"No way…they're going to use an N2 land mine?!" Misato tackled Shinji, knocking the breath out of him for the second time that day. And here comes the nuke. Really, they should turn this into a mecha anime. They could sell chibi plushies of the ghost girl. We'll need a catchy theme song, though. The N2 mine detonated in a blinding flash, and Shinji squeezed his eyes shut against the blaze. A moment later, the blast wave hit. His stomach dropped into his feet as the car was launched into the air. The car flipped, skidded along the ground with a grinding screech, and finally settled onto its side. After a moment, Misato shifted off of him, and Shinji propped himself up. The horizon appeared to have tilted ninety degrees. Misato managed to climb out of the driver's side door, pulling Shinji out with her. The ground around them had been blasted into a field of sand, craters marking the resting places of several city blocks' worth of shrapnel. A great column of blazing cloud rose above Ground Zero–even from this distance, Shinji could feel the heat crisping the hairs on his forearms.
"Shinji-kun, a little help, please." Shinji helped her push the car upright, although the blast had left it rather worse for wear. "How are the windows still intact?" Shinji wondered aloud. "Bulletproof glass. Pretty handy, huh?"
She surveyed the damage, hands on her hip. "I can fix this. Shinji, there's a roll of duct tape in the glove box. Can you fetch it for me?" Shinji grabbed the tape, and Misato proceeded to repair the fender in the shoddiest way possible. That is the first time I have ever seen anything literally held together by spit and prayers. Well, it doesn't really matter, as long as it gets us where we need to go. They got into the car, and Misato started the car. It sputtered and spat, finally settling down to a noisy hum. Shinji glanced at the column of fire as they pulled away. Fallout rained down from the mushroom cloud, and rings of condensation hung like halos above the blast site. I have a bad feeling about this.
Misato fiddled with the radio, switching past a channel broadcasting English pop hits, another playing loud screamo music, and a daytime talk show discussing the Sakhalin Crisis.
"You know, you'd be surprised how much you can save by pirating media," she said. "I bugged Ritsuko for a week, and she eventually agreed to upgrade my stereo. I get seventy stations, and a few which I'm not technically authorized to access." She turned the knob, finally settling on mellow jazz. "Like this one, for instance. It's not listed as a commercial or military channel. Probably one of the offshore platforms again." The audio crackled into digital noise, before settling back down. Shinji frowned. Where have I heard that before? Misato noticed his frown and nudged him with her elbow. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know," he muttered. I can't remember. Whatever that was, I recognize it. "It was probably nothing." Ahead of them, the road twisted around the side of the mountain. Shinji noted idly that the plume of smoke that marked the Angel's advance now lay ahead of them, towards the Fortress-City.
The music had changed. The air seemed to grow heavier. When did Wagner come on?
Misato frowned. "That's odd. They don't normally play classical music on this channel. What is that, Beethoven?"
"Wagner," Shinji replied automatically. "Ride of the Valkyries."
Misato smiled at him. "Ah, so you're into music, Shinji-kun?"
He nodded. "I listen to classical music a lot. My mother played the violin, so I guess it runs in the family."
"Is that so? Do you play any instruments?"
"Cello. My father sent it to me for my sixth birthday, and I've been playing ever since."
They crested one final ridge, and Tokyo-3 came into view. The blue waters of Lake Ashi churned, sending waves crashing against the concrete barriers. On the far shore, the spires of the city rose to a dizzying height. The concrete blocks and wooden houses of Hakone were pierced by the glass towers of Tokyo-3's Central District. A great pall rose from the midst of the city, and orange light flickered from amongst the ruins. Well, that doesn't look good. Ride of the Valkyries finally ended, replaced by Chopin's Funeral March. That's encouraging. Almost on cue, Misato's phone rang. She looked at the screen and grimaced.
"Sorry, Shinji-kun. I need to take this."
They pulled over, and she stepped out of the car. I should give her some privacy. Shinji withdrew his SDAT from his pocket, putting in the earbuds. He selected song 25, and closed his eyes. He rested there for a moment, before being startled by a sudden cry. He pulled the buds out, only to hear Misato yelling at her phone, all concern for security apparently forgotten.
"What do you mean he's dead?!" After listening for a moment, she interjected, "Then put Fuyutsuki on!" She listened for another few seconds, swearing violently. "Alright, I'll bring him to HQ. Keep looking for Dr. Akagi." She snapped the phone shut, got into the car, and floored it. They screeched down the road, nearly plowing over a mailbox and several pedestrians. Shinji looked over at Misato. Her face, no longer smiling, was now set in hard lines.
"What happened," Shinji asked cautiously. "Who's dead?"
Misato spoke after a long moment, her voice graver than he had ever heard it.
"Your father has been assassinated. We need to get you to NERV."
Central Dogma, Tokyo-3 Special Administrative District, Japan.
In the heart of Central Dogma, Ryoji Kaji strolled along the empty sectors that used to be GEHIRN's server rooms. He opened a supposedly-locked door on the right side, emerging into a cavernous room. Ryoji flipped the lightswitch, the old tube lights flickering erratically. The harsh, artificial glow revealed a vast chamber filled with dusty cubicles and old computers. A bridge rising in the midst of the room overlooked a wall of long dead screens. He walked across the gangway to the bridge, nimbly swinging over the railing into one of the cubicles. The spy peeled up a dusty throw rug, revealing a missing floorboard, and dropped down into the vents. After a couple of minutes of walking, he opened a side panel, emerging into a small, packed room.
Kaji sat down on a cot and waited. A moment later, his phone rang. He answered it with one hand, rifling through a filing cabinet with the other.
"Agent Keiji-sha?"
"Keiji-sha here," Ryoji replied. "There's been a change in plans?" He pulled out a stack of files, shutting the cabinet with his foot.
"Ikari is…"
"Dead. I know. I assume Fuyutsuki and Akagi are also pushing up daisies?"
"Fuyutsuki, yes. Akagi is alive."
The double agent's eyes narrowed. Interesting. Could be clumsiness…or part of a plan.
"Understood," he said, keeping his voice steady. "Suspects?"
"HERZ, and that blasted apostate Lavrentiy."
"The former Apostle to Constantinople?"
"The very same. You wouldn't know much about him. He left our blessed council twenty years ago."
"Orders?"
"Keep an eye on him. If you can, eliminate Lukyanovich. I doubt you will be able to, though." The phone went dead.
The double agent chuckled. "Don't underestimate me, Michael Collins, Apostle to Antioch." He pulled out a small hip flask, taking a pull of whiskey. I dare say WILLE is already on the way.
He flipped through the files, glancing briefly at the images on the first pages.
A gray haired old man in a military uniform.
A bearded man wearing mirrored glasses.
Another in a visor and a long coat.
A blonde woman in a white lab coat.
A girl with fiery red hair.
A dark haired woman in a red coat, a cross hanging at her neck.
A boy with blue eyes,
A middle-aged man in the uniform of a Marshal of France.
A restless looking, ruddy haired man in white Apostolic robes.
"Benedikt Lukyanovich Lavrentiy. What an interesting fellow."
He shut the file. "I'll be making your acquaintance shortly enough, Apostle. I hope I make a good impression."
Notes:
PREVIEW:
Ryoji here with your preview. The Third Child arrives at Tokyo-3. The Fortress-City comes under siege. The Messenger lays waste to the final bastion of Humanity. The Pilot born of steel and LCL sharpens her blade. The Children begin their crusade. Next time on Herz und Seele, Chapter Two: Angel Attack. Don't worry, there will be plenty of fanservice–as usual.
This took like a month to write, but I'm finally starting to get into my groove.