The night before they left, he caught her staring at the stars.

She said: I wonder which one you're headed to.

He wanted to say that he knew where he was going - it was all in the maps and charts and documents they had been studying endlessly over God knows how long. He wanted to explain to her that there was no way to see it from there, that it was an uncountable number of light years away, and even if it had been visible it would look no different from any of the others. He wanted to tell her that she should know all this already, if she had put in the time and effort like he had, that was expected of her.

Instead, he said: I think it's over there.

She said: I'm scared.

He said: We were born for this.

She said: That only makes it worse. What if we mess up?

He wanted to say that it was impossible for them to mess up, that they had been preparing for this moment for longer than he could even remember. He wanted to reassure her that failure wasn't even a possibility. He wanted to explain all the checks and balances, all the fail-safes and contingency plans. He had a desire to spend an hour pouring over all the exact details of the various plans that had been drilled into their heads, assuring her that every possibility was accounted for, that they had trained for every eventuality.

Instead, for some reason, he said: Do you trust me?

She looked at him then, and said: Yes.

He said: Then trust me when I say we won't fail.

Neither of them said anything for a long while. The stars silently winked back at them.

She said: I don't think it's fair that we never get to see each other again. Being alone forever is worse than death.

He wanted to say that what they were about to do was so much more important than any of their little feelings. He wanted to reiterate that they weren't going to be alone - that was the whole point. He wanted to tell her that getting cold feet the night before was dangerous. Most of all, he wanted to ask why she was telling him this, so close to the end.

Instead, he said nothing, and watched the stars.

Shinji hadn't expected it to be so cold.

The Second Impact - as had been drummed into his head by boring teacher after boring teacher - had tilted the Earth's axis and stopped the regular changing of the seasons. Up until now Shinji had only known summer - an endless haze of chirping cicadas and sweltering heat. Now, whatever he had just done must have reversed it in some way, because it was cold. The moist air, bearing the sickly scent of LCL, covered his clothes in a layer of damp that stuck them to his shivering body.

Even the cicadas were gone. There was no escape from the cold.

Shinji drew closer into himself, trying to salvage some remaining body heat, but the cruel beach offered nothing but chill. Behind him, the orange sea softly lapped at the shore. Whatever world Shinji had expected to return to after leaving Instrumentality, it wasn't this.

The huge head of the Rei-Lillith thing that had just held all the souls of humanity (or whatever exactly happened, Shinji was very unsure) had rotted, leaving a giant skull. The skull was ringed by the immobilized corpses of the white Evas, still in their crucified pose. There seemed to be some form of significance or symbolism behind the scene, but Shinji couldn't quite place it. He hadn't paid much attention to his religious studies tutor - just another one of his many regrets on his journey to this strange beach. Maybe if he had, he'd have been able to pick up on some of the weird happenings that had plagued his life as of late.

His lack of religious literacy led to him thinking of the Walls of Jericho, which led to him thinking about Asuka, which made him want to throw up again. He rolled over and curled in on himself, hoping for the thousandth time since leaving the sea of LCL that he could go to sleep and wake up somewhere else, preferably his nice warm bed in Misato's apartment. Even the hospital bed back at NERV HQ would have been better.

Hell, a dumpster behind the schoolyard in Tokyo-3 would have been better.

This stupid beach. This stupid, lonely beach. When Shinji had heard that there was a way to return, another chance at being happy, he had seized it like a man lost in the desert seizes water. Visions of people had filled his mind. Rei, Misato, Asuka. His father, his mother. He had thought he could have been with them. Some false hope had taken hold of him and told him that people would stay with him this time, help and protect him.

It didn't matter. In the end, everyone always left him alone.

Except maybe not everyone. Because that faint sound he was hearing wasn't just the lapping of the sea or the wind whistling between the corpses of the white Evas.

It was someone humming Ode to Joy.

"Kaworu?"

Sure enough, there was the silver-haired boy, strolling along the shoreline towards Shinji. His smile was sweet and warm. It was the exact smile he had worn the last time Shinji had seen him. When he was clutched in Unit 01's palm. When he…

"Kaworu! What's going on?"

Kawaru's smile got even bigger as he approached. "I have no clue! Just a minute ago, I could have sworn I was dead! What did you do?"

With Kaworu's unblinking eyes on him, Shinji somehow found himself feeling a little better. Or at least temporarily not worse.

"I don't know… Everything happened at once, things got really weird, I…"

Shinji trailed off, his voice hitching as tears threatened to come back again.

"I think I hurt Asuka… I don't know what's going on…"

Kaworu gently put his arm around the other boy's shoulder.

"It's alright, Shinji. We've all done things we regret, especially right now…"

Shinji found himself leaning into the other boy, more for warmth than anything else. Kaworu turned his attention to the sea, whistling softly in appreciation.

"So that was Instrumentality, huh? Not exactly what I expected -although I don't really know what I did expect, now that you mention it."

Shinji hadn't mentioned anything, but he chose to remain silent on the matter.

Kaworu looked around, noticing for the first time a set of footprints leading away from where Shinji had been lying. He looked up at the other boy.

"Was someone else here?"

Shinji nodded. "Asuka was here," he said, his voice small.

Kaworu smiled. "That's fantastic! I was afraid we were the only two people alive for a second there! Not that there's anything wrong with just the two of us-"

Fantastic. Shinji let out a bitter laugh. That was one word for it.

"She left," he said.

Kaworu looked at him, a slight look of shock quickly melting back into his soft smile. "A pity. I would have liked to meet her properly. Do you know where she went?"

After a few seconds, Shinji shook his head. "No." He couldn't meet his eyes.

Kaworu peered at Shinji's face from the side.

"Do you know why she left?"

Shinji did.

"How disgusting."

The feeling of a soft throat in his hands. The throb of her veins, the fragility of her windpipe. The realization that he really could take another human's life, and that it was far easier than he thought.

The soft touch of her hand on his cheek. The tears coming back so easily. The warmth from her midsection pressed against his forehead.

Her missing arm. Her missing eye. Her scowl. Her voice.

"Get off me, Third."

There was an iron in her voice he had rarely heard before. Asuka typically varied between different forms of heat, from the crackling fire of her good moods to her red-hot rages whenever anything pissed her off. Shinji had seen his fair share of both, although more of the latter recently. He hadn't seen much of this Asuka, one who's rage was ice cold and focused.

It was such a surprise it actually shocked his tears into stopping, although it also paralysed his body too. He didn't move until Asuka physically pushed him off of her, his side thumping softly into the sand as she scrambled to her feet.

"A-Asuka? Where are you going?"

"Away from you." she said, not looking at him.

"Asuka! Don't leave me!" Shinji cried, propping himself up.

"Why? So you can finish the job?" Asuka wheeled on him, flashes of the old, red-hot Asuka returning to her face. Shinji noticed discoloured bruises spreading across her throat and his stomach dropped. "I'd rather take my chances with whatever else is out there than a psycho like you."

Shinji tried to make a comeback, but the sight of the bruises on her throat killed his words before they reached his lips.

"Goodbye, Third," she said, and left.

"Asuka, wait!" He called out, trying to rise, but a wave of nausea forced him back to the ground.

The idea of actually doing that, of following her, trying to talk to her after what just happened, made his stomach churn, his head pound, and a foul taste rise in his throat. What would he do, anyway? Try to be vulnerable? How well had that just worked. Beg forgiveness? Cause she always loved when he said he was sorry, right? Try and convince her to work together with him, appeal to her rational side? At a time like this?

Nice job, Third. You're as good a friend as you are Eva pilot.

Maybe "friend" is too strong a word.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, the half-forgotten mantra "I mustn't run away" circled. How many times had he told himself that in the past? And how much good had it done him? He no longer believed in it.

It was so pathetic it almost made him want to laugh. Instead, he rolled over, pushed up and vomited a stream of orange liquid onto the ghastly sand.

In the distance, Asuka continued her march away, not even sparing a look back. Soon she was gone, disappeared over a ridge and out of Shinji's sight.

I mustn't run away.

Shinji closed his eyes and ran away to the only place he could. Back into his dreams.

They laid and watched the stars.

One upside to the brave new world they found themselves in - among the endless sea of downsides - was that the lack of light pollution made the stars stand out far more than they ever had over Tokyo-3. The night sky was awash with pinpricks of white and green, marred only by the red gash bisecting the moon.

"This is nice," Kaworu said. "When's the last time we just looked at the stars together?"

"I don't think we ever have," Shinji said.

Kaworu smiled at him. "Yes, that's right."

Shinji raised a finger to the sky, indicating a speck of light slowly moving across the sky. "I think that's my mum," he said.

"Really?" Kaworu said, propping himself up on one elbow. "I could have sworn that was Venus."

Shinji shook his head, ignoring Kaworu's ribbing. "She took Unit 01 on a journey to the stars- something about living forever and meeting aliens or whatever… to think that just when I get her back, I lose her again."

He looked over at Kaworu. "Do you think there's anything to that? Do you think there's life out there?"

Kaworu took a breath in. "Funny story, actually. You see, there were these things called S-"

Shinji suddenly bolted upright, whatever world-altering revelation Kaworu was about to reveal going completely ignored. The apparition of Rei that Shinji had seen when he first woke up on the beach was back, once again hovering over the LCL sea. This time, however, she wasn't disappearing. In fact, she was coming closer.

"Hello, Pilot Ikari. Hello, Pilot Nagisa," the Rei apparition said.

"Rei! You came back." Shinji said.

"Yes," came her simple reply.

There was an awkward silence. Kaworu decided to fill it.

"So, Ayanami," he said. "Have you ever heard Ode to Joy?"

"No," she said, sitting down.

Shinji inspected the Rei apparition more closely. Save from the fact she was glowing slightly, she appeared to be a carbon-copy of the Rei Ayanami that he knew, down to her school uniform. It was like she had never fused with whatever NERV kept in its depths, become a god, dissolved all of humanity, and died.

"Rei Ayanami," Kaworu said. "You're just like me. Is that how you too returned from the sea of the Lillin?"

The Rei apparition looked at him steadily, then said: "No." Shen held her palms in front of her face, inspecting them. Shinji watched dully as she brought one hand to the other, pushing them together until they phased through each other as if they were no more solid than air.

"I have become untethered," she said.

Shinji's head hurt.

Kaworu sat back, clearly satisfied. Shinji kept looking at Rei, trying to work out what she was thinking. He had never been able to properly figure her out, and after the Armisael incident it had only gotten harder. He had no idea what she knew, whether she was the same Rei he had fought alongside time and time again. He didn't know whether they were still friends, or if they ever were. She was a stranger to him.

Yet she had - in some vital way - been a part of how the Instrumentality process had turned out. She had rejected Gendo and passed the reins on to Shinji, which had to mean something. He had the sense that if his father had gotten his way, he would not be sitting on the beach right now. Whether that was a blessing or a curse was still up in the air.

Shinji was pulled out of his reverie by Kaworu calling out.

"Look at that!" he said, turning his face out to sea. "Our party is getting bigger by the minute. How wonderful!"

There was a figure standing on the giant skull that Shinji was sure wasn't there a minute ago. As the children watched, he dropped from the skull again and began walking across the surface of the sea of LCL towards them.

No one said anything, transfixed on the approaching figure with such obvious contempt for gravity. The closer it got, the more details they could make out.

It was a man – definitely - probably late-thirties or early-forties. He was wearing a plain white dress shirt with some sort of symbol on the breast, a dark cloak around his shoulders. He had a sever widow's peak, exacerbated by his receding hairline. He moved almost hesitantly forwards, as if he would rather be somewhere else.

"Shinji," Kaworu said. "Doesn't he look a little like you?"

"I- I don't think so," Shinji said.

"I can see the resemblance to Pilot Ikari," the Rei apparition said. "They have similar eyes."

"It's the eyes, right?" Kaworu said, turning to the other child. "You and I can tell. We must have better vision than the Lillin."

The Rei apparition didn't respond.

The figure was now close enough that they could make out the symbol on his shirt. It was an inverted triangle bearing seven eyes down its length - the unmistakable symbol of SEELE, the shadow organization behind NERV.

That was bad, probably.

"Hey there!" Kaworu said, as the man was crossing the shoreline. "Do you have any idea what's going on?"

"Why are there four of you?" the man said.

Shinji blinked. "I'm sorry?"

The man rubbed his temples. "How is it that after all this time we're still getting it wrong?"

"Did you say four? Who else-"

Shinji cut himself off, whipping his head around. Instantly, his hopes and fears were confirmed. Standing up on a dune nearby, silhouetted bright red against the soft starlight, was the unmistakable figure of Asuka Langley Soryu, glowering down at them. Her good arm was folded across her chest, her bandaged one lying limp at her side. She seemed to be trying to burn a hole through Shinji with her one exposed eye.

Shinji tried to search her gaze for any trace of what she was thinking, or anything but unbridled rage. The more he looked, the worse he felt. That blue eye was like a nightmare - an accusation. She was trying to kill him with a stare.

No, scratch that. She wasn't even looking at him anymore. Shinji followed her gaze over his shoulder to the LCL ocean.

Something was shifting beneath the surface of the huge Rei-slash-Lillith skull. There was a horrible shrieking sound, and the skull split and crumbled in on itself, huge chunks of bone splashing into the sea. The white Evas joined shortly, disintegrating with a disgusting wet popping noise, fountains of red blood shooting in all directions and staining the surface of the orange sea. Out of the ruined structures flowed little white-and-blue shapes which flew into the sky, gathering into a sparkling, amorphous mass.

Shinji turned back, looking for some answers from the strange man, only to find him gone without a trace.

Figures, Shinji thought, and turned his eyes back to the sky.

The strange little shapes were coalescing, the mass extending outwards and solidifying, forming into the shape of a gigantic creature. It appeared to be one huge, central eye, flanked by triangles and ringed by a revolving stream of symbols Shinji couldn't begin to decipher.

"Is that an Angel?" Shinji asked.

"I don't think so," Kaworu said. "According to the plan I had, I should have been the last one. Of course, a lot has happened recently that wasn't in the plan."

"It's not an Angel," the Rei apparition said, sounding shockingly sure of herself. "This is different."

"Interesting," Kaworu said. "Do you think it wants to be friends?"

Shinji once again opted to ignore the larger implications of what they were saying and focus on the creature at hand. The more shapes it absorbed, the larger it grew, until it was easily the size of one of the EVA units. The huge central eye rotated downwards, capturing the children in its watery gaze.

The eye was not quite human but also not quite inhuman - some awful spot between the platonic ideal of an eye and a real eye itself that was off putting. Shinji couldn't tell whether it was made of solid matter or pure light, whether it was looking at him or through him, or if it could even see at all. It was huge and watery, and it filled the sky.

Shinji found it slightly less terrifying than Asuka's eye had been.

Then the creature shook, and two great pillars of light streaked out from it. The light gradually split, forming into two pairs of huge, vaguely triangular shapes, stretching from horizon to horizon. The light split the sky, instantly dispersing the clouds, casting the children in an otherworldly light.

Kaworu bolted upright, his face suddenly pale.

"The Wings of Light. Shinji, we need to get out of here-"

All of a sudden there was a voice, a great and terrible voice, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"There was a garden and there was a tree.

There was an ocean of black ice as far as the eye could see.

What can be unwritten cannot be unread.

Won't you be friends with me?"

Before Shinji could process any of that there was a horrible, horrible, noise, like gears grinding or nails on a chalkboard, that filled the whole world. There was a light that filled the edges of his vision, and a dark that spread in the middle to combat it. There was a swirling feeling, like the floor had disappeared. Out of the corner of his eye, Shinji saw Rei and Kaworu jerk upwards, like they were being lifted. A single thought zinged like lightning across his head, he whipped around to look for-

"Asuka-"

Then there was nothing.

There was a swirl of sounds and images. A huge eye peering down. Asuka's voice: 'Goodbye, Third." Unit 01 drifting in the void of space. Billions of people melting into orange liquid. A boy crushed between his fingers. An Eva exploding itself. Holy light from above. The taste of an S2 engine. His father's voice: "This childish tantrum has gone on long enough." Angels exploding in cruciform. His own body disintegrating. Pen-Pen squawking. Cicadas chirping. His mother, speaking words he couldn't make out.

Then there was something.

Shinji was in a closet. Not just any closet - he soon realized- but the cleaning closet back in Misato's apartment. And he was not alone.

There was an odd-looking creature sitting between a mop and a box of cleaning supplies. It might be described as a cross between a human child and a goat, covered in hair and with an awkward, overly large head. It had a human-esque body, save that it was dotted with bright blue eyes all along its length.

"Hello Shinji," the creature said. "I am here to grant your wish. Welcome back to the beginning."

Shinji stared at it blankly. In the back of his head, neurons were firing, telling him to run or fight or scream or do anything, but his body refused to listen. All that had happened in the last few hours had fried something in his brain, some vital piece of connective tissue that should have joined the rational side of his brain with the part that dictated his actions. Instead, he found himself sitting down next to the creature.

"My name is Keter-Or" it said, "I am the Crown of Light. I'm sure you have many questions, and I will be happy to answer them."

Shinji's first question was: "Keter Or what?"

The creature didn't react to his lame attempt at a joke.

"You freed me from my prison, child, and thus I am bound to you. I have granted you your innermost wish, that I may repay my debt."

The rational part of Shinji's brain - the part that was freaking out - was still unable to affect him in any meaningful way. Shinji decided the best way to proceed with this new situation was to roll with it. A genie has appeared, what good would complaining do?

Shinji did still have questions, however. "But I haven't told you my wish yet!", he said.

"I see into your hearts, child, although it is not difficult to intuit," The creature replied in a measured tone. "What you wished for most desperately was another try, another chance to make things right. Am I correct?"

Shinji looked away. What he thought he wanted was for things to go back to the way they were before, although that did seem a bit like semantics at this point.

"Yeah, sure, but what can you do about that?"

"I can do more than you could believe, Shinji. What has been written can yet be unwritten. I have turned back the hands of time, to place the pen back into your fingers. I have gifted you with a chance to make right what was wrong, to make a second attempt at a better future."

Shinji's eyes grew wide. This sounded like a dream come true. He just had to make sure the creature was saying what he thought it was saying.

"Are you saying you, what, rewound time?" Shinji asked.

"In a sense."

Shinji waited for elaboration. When none came, he spoke again. "So does that mean that everything is going to happen again?"

"In broad strokes, yes. Although you have the gift of knowledge of what is to come, and the power to change the course of fate. The script now lies in your hands. Yours, and the other children.

"The other children?"

The creature did something with its face. Shinji realized after a few seconds it may be a smile.

"You were not the only one on that beach, were you Shinji?"

After he left her, he met his brother on the other side of the highway.

He said: I'm worried about her.

His brother said: You care about her.

He said: I care about the mission. She's a part of it.

His brother said: It might not be that simple.

He said: It should be.

His brother looked at him then, for a long moment. It made him uncomfortable, which was a rare feeling for him these days. He didn't appreciate it.

He said: Surely you understand?

His brother took a long pause, and then said: Of course.

He didn't like the pause.

He said: We're on the same side.

His brother said: We're all on the same side.

He nodded. Of course. Why did his brother feel the need to clarify? Was it for his sake, or his own? He shook his head. It was too late to think of such things.

His brother said: I hope we meet again, someday.

He smiled again, which was just as rare.

In the end, after it had all happened the way that it did, when the hate was all he saw, he wished he had said something then. One last word to his brother, before they left for different stars forever.

But he didn't.