Misato Katsuragi was having a truly awful day. The disaster had started when she got out of bed that morning (why did she keep doing that?) to three missed calls from Section-2 and some nonsense apology from someone named Nagisa she'd never heard of clogging her voicemail.
Fine. she thought as Pen-pen stared either mockingly or pityingly at her over his newspaper. Bring it on, world. I survived Second Impact, I'll survive this.
The drive to her office was comfortingly banal as Misato rode downward into the Geofront. She didn't think that she would ever get used to the chainlift's ominous rattle, but she supposed it couldn't be helped.
After all, it's not like we have the money for two eighty-five meter tall death machines. Nothing to spare for us little people who have to deal with this. At that, she grinned. Well, we do what we can. The lift ground to a halt. And about damn time, too. It's 0900, I'm already buzzed, and today will be great.
The morning was not, in fact, great. Some intern made an error of momentous proportions, routing the entire Operations department's mail through her in-tray. Makoto refused to stop helping her deal with it, and Aoba did nothing but laugh at it. Lunch was, impressively, below the NERV cafeteria's already abysmal standards. And then, around 1500, Ritsuko burst into her office.
"Come to gloat, Rits?" Misato was exhausted, her minifridge had been drained of beer by lunch, and she hadn't even found the moron who rerouted her department's mail.
Doctor Akagi stared impassively at Misato. "Forgetting something, Director?"
The realization hit her with the force of an N2 mine. "Oh God… I was supposed to pick up the Third today, wasn't I?"
"You can learn." Ritsuko smiled. "Thankfully, you're only fifteen minutes behind schedule. If you get lucky with the lift, you might actually get there on time. By the way, make sure you check his profile on the ride up. He seems a touch… questionable. I honestly don't think we need him."
"Are you kidding, Rits? I'd eat today's excuse for tempura again if it'd get me out of this damn office. See ya." With that, Misato stood up, slammed her laptop shut, and grabbed her sunglasses. "Oh, and by the way, I need you to look into the mail sorting okay thanks Rits you're the best bye!"
As the door slammed behind Misato, Ritsuko simply shook her head.
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!" Misato had not, in fact, gotten lucky with the chainlift. In fact, it had taken her five minutes to get through the byzantine hellscape of NERV's parking garage. She could have sworn that the complex had been designed to throw off invaders. It took another five to get up the chainlift. And then, just as she could see the light at the top of the tunnel, a deep, resonating scream cut through the streets of Tokyo-3.
The Angel raid siren.
"OF ALL THE FUCKING DAYS YOU COULD HAVE SHOWN UP, WHY THE FUCK DID IT HAVE TO BE TODAY? YOU FUCKING BITCH, I'M GOING TO MAKE THE THIRD BREAK YOU OVER HIS EVA'S KNEE YOU UGLY, POINTLESS-"
Somehow, a barrage of artillery fire actually managed to drown out the screaming Operations Director. "Fine. BUT THE THIRD'S GONNA BEAT YOUR ASS FOR THIS!"
The plus side of an evacuated city was that there was no traffic whatsoever, unless you counted the fresh craters left by stray ordnance and titanic footsteps. As such, it took not even ten minutes to cross the city and find what could only be described as the Third Child, waiting outside a damaged telephone booth.
Oh god. Shinji wore a black shirt emblazoned with a metal band logo, heavily ripped jeans with trailing chains, and what looked to be a solid centimeter of makeup. "Shinji! Get in!" Misato barked. She gave the Third a second look, just to confirm what she was seeing. Depressingly, she did not seem to be hallucinating. "What the… never mind. Just get in."