Interludes After the Fifth Angel

Note, the parenthesis indicate languages other than Japanese, in this case, German.

NERV Berlin

"(Kaji? Who is this Shinji Ikari and why I just got a letter from him?)" Idly, Asuka Langley Soryu examined the envelope she had just received, along with her many packages containing shampoo and other beauty products

"(Haven't you read the bulletins? Ikari is the Third Child, and he has several angels to his credit; two in solo missions and one with the First Child.)"

"(Pfft! Beginner's luck, there is no way he could keep up with me. As soon as I arrive to Japan, he will be left behind, watching my dust!)"

Ryoji Kaji was already used to the young pilot's ego. "(Don't be so cocky, Asuka. The kid has talent.)"

"(Bah!)" A single wrist movement dismissed the Third Child's achievements.

"(Ikari reached a synch rate of over 40% in his first time in an Evangelion. And his current score is getting close to 50%.)"

"(Meh. Impressive starting synch, but a very slow progress, don't you think? If it has taken him ten years for that bit of improvement, NERV Japan must be desperate for pilots.)", while Kaji checked his own mail, Asuka poured herself a cup of coffe.

"(Desperate is the right word. The day Ikari arrives to NERV, the Third Angel attacks, and the First Child is incapacitated to pilot. That first score is from his first battle, without a plugsuit; that was about eleven weeks ago. And remember, that was also his first time in an EVA.)"

Asuka choked on her coffe, it took her a while to stop coughing.

"(E-eleven… eleven weeks? Three Angels in barely eleven weeks? God…)" Asuka ran back to her room, slamming the door closed. Kaji opened another envelope. It would be useless to try to talk to her until she calmed down.

Asuka sat in front of her desk, and stabbed the envelope as if it was her arch-nemesis.

She emptied the envelope over the desk. It contained a letter and some pictures. The pics showed Misato Katsuragi, her previous keeper, and two teens about her own age, surely the First and Third Children. Hmm… not much to look at, a skinny kid with sad eyes, and an… albino? girl, with an inexpressive face. Hmm… she surely dyed her hair; but, blue? What a weirdo. Wait a moment… was that a… penguin? It looked like.

She put the pictures aside, and unfolded the letter; it was handwritten, carefully and clumsily. And the German was just as careful and clumsy.

"(Miss Soryu:

I hope you won't think it's too bold from me to write you this letter, my name is Shinji Ikari (Third Child). Misato has told me wonders about you and your work at NERV Berlin. I hope to meet you soon. I trust we will make a good team. Currently, NERV Japan only has two pilots, and we are not as well trained as you. I'm certain we will learn a lot from your example.

As surely you can tell, I'm only starting to learn german, Misato helped me to write this letter. I hope to have improved a little bit by the time I can meet you in person.

Could you tell me a little about you?

I'm enclosing a few pictures of our little operations group, Misato, Rei Ayanami (First Child), and yours truly; plus Misato's pet penguin, his name is Pen-Pen.

Respectfully,

Shinji Ikari.)"

Asuka drummed her fingers on the desk. It was certainly not what she had expected. She had thought Ikari would be a boorish show-off, but the tone of the letter was quite the contrary. And Misato had no patience for fools, so he must have some quality that just didn't show in a picture.

Wait a minute, there were two sheets inside the envelope. She recognized Misato's scrawlings on the second sheet.

"(Hey, Asuka!

Shinji is really eager to meet you. As soon as I told him about you, he started to learn german; I think he wants to make a good first impression when you get to Japan. Do me a favor and write him a letter soon, will you? You can take the chance to practice your Japanese before arriving here. Send him a pic too, I want to see him turn beet red! He's charmingly shy, especially around pretty girls. I bet you can blow his mind!

Ah, just between us, Shinji has a somewhat curious hobby, he collects info about metahumans, the ones from before Second Impact. He's too considerate to ask you for something in a first letter, but I'm sure he would love to know something about german metahumans. I would consider it a personal favor if you could get him something.

See you soon!

Misato K.)"

Well... Asuka though for a while. The Third Child seems to know his place in the social totem; and, at least in a letter, he seemed sensible enough. Not as much as Kaji, of course, but that was a very high bar. And, if Misato was right, she could have a lot of fun playing with him.

In a much better mood, she put the letters and pics back into the envelope, and went back out to the kitchen to finish her breakfast.

Kaji was a bit surprised, he thought his young ward would be in a bad mood for the rest of the day, but she seemed strangely serene.

He turned a page of his paper, and waited. He wasn't really interested in the cultural section, but trying to get Asuka to talk before she was good and ready was like trying to get water from a stone. It needed special tools, a lot of effort, and had no guarantees of success.

Finally, as Asuka poured herself another cup of coffe, the question arrived.

"(Kaji? Exactly what is a metahuman?)"

'Not what I was expecting...' He thought.

Years before

For once in his existence, the ghostly acrobat was in no mood for his own excentricities. No acrobacies, no sitting in improbable places, not even floating sideways.

No, not this time.

Since his death, Boston Brand had witnessed a lot of suffering. Murders, illness, accidents, wars. Thanks to the now absent Rama Kushna, he had been able to intervene and save scores of persons from death.

Even during the apocalyptic catastrophe of Second Impact he had been able to save lifes. Not as many as he would have liked, but that was part of the job, and he thought he had resigned himself to that.

He had made peace with the knowledge that, not only he had been unable to save more people, also that many of his friends had fought to save lifes. That they had lost the battle, and their lives. He had escorted a few to the Great Beyond. Those few were too many in his opinion.

After all, an apocalypsis caused by a little meteor moving at 10% light speed? Who could stop something like that?

Sure, there were a few heroes physically able to stop, destroy, or push an asteroid away, but not at that speed.

Deadman though he knew fury. At the beginning of his ghostly existence, he had been angry half of the time, over how unjust his death had been; and later, for the lives lost because of his mistakes and temper tantrums.

Tantrums. Yes, that was the anger of a child, compared to the rage now burning in his heart.

A little investigation on a murder had turned out to be the start of a tangled web of crimes like he had never imagined. Following the tracks had taken him months of spying and following a great number of agents from a secret organization that made the late, unmourned Kobra cult seem like a reunion of upstanding, mild-mannered citizens.

SEELE.

They had gotten away with murdering half of the planet, including most metahumans.

Patiently, Deadman had followed tracks, discovered drop points, observed agents, listening to conversations. However, SEELE's leaders were frustratingly elusive. Hecould find no way to get to them, not even to get actually close.

At a certain point, he crashed against an unexpected barrier. An idiomatic barrier. It took him months of intensive study to learn enough French, German and Japanese to follow clues all over Europe and Asia. More than once, the track went cold, only to show up again in the most unexpected places.

Finally, the tracks guided him to Tokyo-3, where he found to his horror, that Second Impact had merely been, as they said in the circus, the sideshow.

The true three ring circus wasn't even completely installed.

The Angels were coming.

After the Angels, Third Impact.

And after that, no more Mankind.

He had been lucky to find one of the ringmasters of this particular evil circus, Gendo Ikari. After watching him discuss his plans with his top flunky, Deadman was sure he had gotten right to where things would get interesting. Aparently, the Angels would come to Tokyo-3, eventually.

And even better, Ikari was in contact with the leaders of SEELE. It was through holograms, but at least now he was getting first-hand info about SEELE's plans, instead of trying to make sense of bits and pieces.

"Boston, old friend;" he whispered to himself, "you're gonna need help with this. Man, at moments like this, I really miss the old bat."

Quickly, he ran through a too short list on his head, trying to decide exactly to whom he could ask for help. "Well, I think I'll have to go to a higher instance."

One after another, he crossed dimensional barriers, until he found the best candidate he could think of. He certainly wasn't the most confortable guy to work with, his manias for secrets and mysteries were terribly inconvenient, but if you needed someone to stop the end of the world, the Phantom Stranger was your man.

The Stranger seemed to be, to human eyes, standing in the black void of eternity, watching intently what seemed to be a remarcable copy of the Earth. Appearances were deceiving. That was no copy. It wasn't the original either. It was... something like a mystical image of the world.

Deadman cleared his throat, metaphorically at least. Surprising the Phantom Stranger in his turf could be incredibly risky. "Hum… Stranger?"

The shadowy figure raised his head, taking a moment from his unending watch over the world. "Deadman." And tipped his hat at the ghost. He went back to his vigilance.

"Erm… I don't want to interrupt… but we have a very big problem."

"I'm listening."