Bloodstained Saints
A Darkscribes.org Presentation.
Table of Contents
01
Bloodstained Saints 02
Bloodstained Saints 03
Bloodstained Saints 04
Bloodstained Saints 05
Bloodstained Saints 06
01
A/N: Let me begin by saying that this is the spiritual successor to the DeathEVA. I liked DE – I really did – but as I read through it after a one-month hiatus from writing, I realized it had serious problems with it. So, I ultimately decided to scrap it and use the experience on a brand-spanking-new idea.
Bloodstained Saints – 01
“Of all these words of mice and men, the saddest are, ‘it might have been.’”
-a poet
walk with her/him: a phrase meaning ‘to be attached to romantically.’
-2014 Oxford Dictionary
-
If Shinji Ikari was listening to his teacher, it did not show. He stared out of the window, absently, searching for some distant destiny that probably did not exist. His teacher rambled on about the horrors of the War. To him, and many of his generation, the War seemed like a long-ago, distant string of catastrophes that had no influence on their lives.
So, he let the teacher ramble as he stared out the window. The landscape outside was not cheery – long stretches of desolate nothing, choking Shinji’s town with sheer emptiness. Shinji could not even begin to imagine what it would be like to be up in a helicopter over that Nothing – it would make you go mad, he was sure.
His obliviousness was suddenly broken by the gentle beep of his computer. He turned to it to find an extremely terse email from the Class Rep, scolding him for his obliviousness and ordering him back to his work. Sighing, Shinji did his best to listen, he really did – but, alas, his thoughts returned to the idea of Nothing.
-
As he sat in the cafeteria, he took the opportunity to really look at his classmates, and found that it was a symphony of sameness. The all wore the exact same uniform, all with the school’s crest. Shinji searched into the recesses in his mind, trying to recall why he had been sent to this place, and found that he could not.
As he meditated on this fact, he heard the familiar shrill voice of the Class Rep from behind. “We need to talk,” she said, with finality. Shinji sighed as she circled around to the opposite side of the table.
“I’m already talking to the school counselor,” the boy said, softly. “What can you do that she can’t?”
Hikari turned up her nose. “Hmph. Well, that’s not what I wanted to talk about,” she said, remaining tough. “I wanted to talk about something else.”
There was a pause.
“Erm… what, exactly?” asked Shinji.
Hikari’s I-am-your-superior veneer collapsed in a moment. She started blushing and managed to blurt out, “I want to take you out on a date.”
Shinji stared at her. “Really?” he finally asked.
Hikari had suddenly become very uncomfortable. “Umm… how about tonight at ten?” she offered nervously. There was another pause, and she blushed a little more. “Nothing high-commitment, of course. Just dinner, maybe.”
“Umm… ok,” Shinji replied, turning a little pink in the face himself.
“Ok!” Hikari said. She was still pink in the face, but obviously pleased. “I’ll meet you at the Yellow Diner.”
-
Why did you break that window?
I wanted to.
What made you want to?
I looked up into the sky, and I saw something… I don’t really remember what it was. I just know I needed to break something, or I would go crazy.
Therapy Session #44
-
Shinji began the slow walk home. It was cold outside, the fallout made sure of that. The trees refused to bear leaves or fruit, instead remaining barren and lifeless. He passed underneath one such tree and looked up into its branches. Through them, he saw the sun: a pallid, sickly glow in the grayish sky. Like most of his generation, he had never once seen the true glory of Sol with his own eyes.
As the sun past beneath a particular sullen streak of darkness, Shinji resumed his slow walk home. His uniform suddenly seemed cruel and oppressive; he wanted to get out of it at any cost. One step at a time, one slow, plodding step, he made it to his home. It was sometimes hard to notice, especially when he was deep in thought. It was one of the mass-produced houses made right after the War. It was white, two story, one garage. Each had precisely three bedrooms and two baths, with minimal decoration and maximum efficiency. It was on a row with houses all exactly like it, in a suburban zone with rows alike.
His guardians were silent, unfeeling people: they cared about their own flesh-and-blood children more than they did him. When he reached his home and walked in the door, his aunt was busy spoon feeding her six-month-old; the elder child, age two, was sitting on his father’s lap in front of the TV. Shinji glanced this way and that, and neither even gave him a hello. Slowly, he made his way upstairs, and as he climbed the creaking wooden steps, he wondered about the hows and whys of human existence, and could find no answer.
-
He recalled his date with Hikari just in time. His guardians were completely apathetic to his coming and going – he headed out at ten at night, and they barely batted an eye. He walked down the darkened streets, lighted only by the odd working streetlamp and the almost undetectable light of the moon.
Shinji’s walk was deliberately slow; he did not care if he was merely ‘a bit’ late. It seemed so infinitesimal when compared to the 18 billion years of the universe’s existence that he could not bring himself to care. Once his long journey was over, he reached the Yellow Diner, a large, box-shaped building with yellow walls. Inside were kids on dates: it was the haunt for such minor trysts.
Shinji slowly approached the door, doubt clutching at his heart. What did Hikari think she was getting out of him, precisely?
As he approached the door, through the window he saw Hikari sitting alone. She was still wearing the pleated skirt and overcoat of the school uniform – Shinji absently wondered if girl’s clothes were lighter than boy’s. He silently pushed the door open and entered. Hikari’s eyes immediately shifted to his, and her face lit up.
“I was beginning to fear that I’d been stood up,” Hikari said, as Shinji sat down.
Shinji smiled absently and did not reply.
Hikari searched for some icebreaker when the waiter showed up. He was not the sort to pass judgment; he merely took their respective orders and left.
“You didn’t order very much,” observed Hikari, as the waiter walked off.
“I’ve never been very hungry.”
“It’s not very good for you,” Hikari said.
There was a silence.
She suddenly turned pink and put her hands to her mouth. “I must sound like a total Nazi bitch,” she said.
Shinji smiled at her. “No, it’s ok… you’re probably right.”
She looked rueful. “I promised myself I would drop my Class-Rep persona tonight. I can’t seem to do it.”
Shinji shrugged. “If people just stopped acting everything would be easier.”
Hikari cocked her head to one side. “That’s profound. Did you think of that?”
“Yeah.”
Their food arrived, and they ate in silence for a few moments. It was one of those rare moments when Shinji’s thoughts were not drifting among the stars, but among the countless humans of the earth, sharing the same feeling that afflicts most at least once in their life: I am sitting in the presence of a viable mate.
“Shinji?”
“Are you all right?”
“What do you mean?”
“I dunno.” Hikari looked out the window. “It seems like… you’re supposed to be elsewhere.”
Shinji waited for her to elaborate.
“I can’t quite describe it,” she said. “It’s like… I want to understand you… but I can’t.”
The foods arrived. They both ate in silence
“Shinji…?”
“Yeah?”
“I enjoyed this,” Hikari said, blushing again. “You know, I always get flustered at times like this.”
Shinji did that the strange dreamy grin of his - This was something new – not necessarily good, but new. New things rarely entered his life. “I used to. I don’t know why I stopped. I think it’s cute, though.”
She reddened even more. “Stop it! You’re making it worse!” she giggled.
-
Shinji walked home, slowly. Hikari was such a sweet girl, he reflected – he wondered it would be like to walk with her. He’d be the envy of the school, the boy who finally managed to melt the evil, evil class rep’s icy heart. He smiled at thought: Shinji Ikari, the new popular kid.
No one seemed to be out, this late. They never were, because everyone followed the same schedule with slight variations, except for the kids. As Shinji walked down the street, he heard footsteps, not his own. He turned around and saw nothing, only shadows split by occasional streetlights. Slowly, he turned around and continued on his way. As he walked, something seemed to change – the shadows, once amoral, suddenly turned sinister and evil. Those infernal footsteps… with each low noise, leering, catlike eyes seem to blossom in the darkness. Suddenly, there were red eyes everywhere, gazing out of darkness at him, watching his every step, like a chaos crawling through cracks in spacetime, seeping into his life and laying waste to all that it touched.
Shinji started running and immediately tripped over his own feet, sending him crashing to the ground. He felt pain; his hand split open, spilling blood on the ground. Dazed by the sudden pain, he started screaming, “Go away! Go away!”
In an instant, the hallucination was gone. A lone soldier stood in its place, wearing the gas mask and black armor that marked him as a Chemical Warfare Specialist. Shinji had a few seconds to process this fact before the nightstick crashed down on his head.
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Bloodstained Saints 02
Bloodstained Saints 02
It is not these well-fed long-haired men I fear, but the pale and hungry-looking.
-Julius Ceaser
The long term effects of the fallout are unknown at this time, however, scientists at the UN Bureau of Climatology suggests that absence of sunlight will cause wide-spread vitamin D deficiency. Mandatory drug supplements for the general public are recommended.
-UN 2004 Post-nuclear Analysis
-
Shinji’s head throbbed mercilessly. He was blindfolded, gagged, and handcuffed. He was hungry and thirsty.
There was the steady hum of an engine beneath him. Occasionally, the van would drive over a pothole and bump violently. As he sat there, in the darkness, he began to fear that he had died and was now being driven to whatever hellish pit he had dug for himself.
-
Gendo Ikari sat at his desk, eyes gazing at the vast screen that displayed the military forces of an entire country – long-range ballistic missiles, heavy armor, light armor, infantry, special forces, naval fleets, submarine fleets, orbital bombers, and even the nuclear arsenal.
All of it was useless.
There was only one weapon Gendo Ikari had faith in, and it was in cold sleep five hundred meters below his feet.
“Target is approaching from the west coast!” announced Lieutenant Shigeru, from the collection of computers below the Commander’s desk. “Nonterrestrial status confirmed!”
“An Angel,” growled Fuyutski. “It’s been fifteen years.”
Suddenly, a red symbol appeared on the big screen. It vaguely resembled an Ankh – befitting.
“The UN Naval Warfleet is engaging!” pronounced Aoba.
A smirk gradually spread across Gendo’s face. How many times had the UN Combined Military Taskforce been told that conventional ordnance was useless against the Angels? Two hundred, twenty-seven times, in several closed-doors briefings.
Oh well.
A live image appeared on the screen, tucked neatly into a corner. The Angel was seen for the first time – a vile monster, vast legs carrying it above the water. It had peculiar, y shaped arms, with two forearms extending from a single elbow. These arms ended in long claws, cruel and sharp. Its body was shielded by a brownish carapace; from between the seams in this armor seeped mysterious green goo, with roughly the same consistency as syrup.
Suddenly, a rain of missiles and cannon shells rained on the monster, cloaking it in fire. For a few moments, the feed was replaced by a ‘VISIBILITY LOST’ message. The NERV staff scrambled to recover it; after a few moments panic, the feed returned.
The monster was unharmed. It continued to wade towards Japan.
Suddenly, Agents Kaji and Katsuragi entered the bridge. By the look of wrath on the latter’s face, they had gotten into another conflict. Kaji had a rather suspicious palm mark on his face.
Miraculously, the man regained his composure. “Sir, we have located the Third Child,” he said, coolly.
Misato said nothing, and walked the front of the bridge.
“Very good,” Gendo replied, and remained silent. He turned to the laptop open on his desk; a communication screen was open, with live VOIT connections to all of the major branches of NERV. He selected ‘NERV Medical’ and pressed the ‘live audio’ button.
“Dr Akagi?” he enquired, neutrally.
“Sir,” replied a female voice.
“What is the status of the First Child?”
“She isn’t combat-ready. We’d need to give her a minor dose of amphetamines just to wake her up, and we don’t know whether she would be able to pilot while on the drugs.”
“I see.” Gendo cut the connection.
Kaji was leaning against a pillar, near the exit. “Inspector Kaji?” Gendo asked.
“Sir?”
“What is the status of the Third Child?”
“ETA thirty minutes. I’ll be leaving shortly to make the pickup.”
“Very well,” Gendo replied.
-
Shinji became aware of city sounds. The blare of horns, the constant murmur of voices, the roar of jackhammers all assaulted his ears. There was also the stench of gasoline and car exhaust. Suddenly, a voice, loud and gravely, broke through his senses. It spoke with an American accent, though in Japanese “Listen close, kid. Now, I’m going to take off your gag and blindfold. Then, I’m going to put you on your feet outside this van, and you’re going to walk towards a man with a ponytail and an ugly tie sitting in the middle of a café directly ahead of you. You’re going to walk up to him, sit across from him, and say ‘I’m a bit of stranger in a strange land.’ Then he’s gonna uncuff you, and you’re going to go with him. Understand?”
Shinji nodded.
“Very good.”
Shinji felt himself being dragged forward, heard the door of the van be thrown open. His blindfold and gag were gone in an instant and he was roughly tossed out. The van’s door slammed shut and it sped off, into the urban distance.
Shinji had never seen a city before.
His mind could not begin to comprehend it – the sheer size of the buildings around him, the towering urban mountain range that men had built with sweat and blood. Arms trapped behind his back, he turned around once or twice, overwhelmed by the immenseness of it all.
Slowly, he began to walk towards the café. It was a dull, drab place, across the street from him, with a few open seats occupied by latte-drinking yuppies. Shinji’s eyes zeroed in on the man the kidnapper had described – ponytail and a very ugly tie. Slowly, he began to walk forward, nearly getting hit by a car as he passed. No one even glanced at him.
Slowly, he became aware of the apathy of the citydwellers – a handcuffed boy was walking across the street, nearly killing himself in the process, and no one batted an eye. No one, no one, no one.
Finally, he reached the café and entered through the open gate. He walked to the pony-tailed man - he was reading a newspaper, completely nonchalant.
“Hello?” asked Shinji, as he reached the man. Ugly-tie did not look up from his paper. Some silent force reminded Shinji of the code. “I’m a bit of a stranger in a strange land.”
The man looked up. “Ah. So you’re the Third Child.”
-
“My… father?” asked Shinji, slowly. By contrast, they were driving very fast, on one of the no-limit highways that connected Tokyo-3 with its various subcities. Kaji’s red convertible was rapidly outpacing the other vehicles on the road; the sullen landscape tore by at something like the speed of sound.
“Yep,” replied Kaji. “Gendo Ikari.”
“But… he hasn’t seen me for years… why does he care all of a sudden?”
Kaji grinned. “Maybe it would be best of you asked him yourself.”
As the car tore through the landscape, Shinji noticed a different kind of building. It’s incongruousness to the architecture of the local cities immediately gave its presence away to any passerby.
It was NERV’s building.
The structure was a large pyramid, proudly standing on the edge of the city. It was yellow, with NERV written in red paint on all four surfaces. Shinji looked on in awe. “My father… my father built all this?” he asked, incredulously.
“Well, yes,” Kaji said, playfully. “Along with the construction companies, arms corporations, and several hundred investors.”
“Arms corporations?”
“Your father is a mercenary. Or a ‘merc,’ as we say in the biz.”
“Mercenary…” Shinji muttered. It was such a strange word: the warrior who, instead of fighting for honor or glory, fought exclusively for monetary gain. In some ways, it was selfish and ignoble; in others, extremely brave. To go into a foreign land to fight a war for people you don’t really know… But that was not his father’s work, not really. Shinji knew that much.
The car rushed onwards, finally taking an exit after a full acceleratory burst. The Third felt the wind whipping his face viciously. The car circled into a large parking lot, pulling into a space with a screech of brakes. In one motion, Kaji was out of the car and opening Shinji’s door; the boy was startled by the man’s speed.
-
Rei drifted through a dream. She was standing among a hundred million eyes, all gazing at her; they were in a deep, black void, without even a star to light the way.
“What are you?” Rei asked. Silence. “Identify yourself.”
“I… am… Shinji…” a voice whispered in her ear. “I… am… Ur…”
-
“Hey, earth to Shinji,” Kaji said. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, and, in an instant, Shinji Ikari’s old life ceased to exist. As he walked into the strange, darkened room, he became of a sickening, rotting smell, like the field of some just-lost battle where the wounded lay next to dead, moaning for mercy. Slowly, he walked out, and the elevator closed behind him. He was alone. Shinji walked forward, slowly, in the darkness.
Suddenly, the lights burst on, and he saw a visage of terror: the cruel mask of Eva Unit 01. He stumbled back, tripped. It was like the cruel grin of a demon about to tear you apart. On its forehead was emblazoned a mysterious, pentacle-like symbol, except all of the arms were uneven, as if they were drawn by a child. He looked up and saw his father standing on a balcony above the Eva. “Father!” Shinji cried.
“Shinji,” Gendo replied, coldly.
“Father… what is all this?!” he demanded.
“It is an Evangelion,” Gendo said. “The most powerful weapon ever created. You are to be its pilot.”
Shinji stared up, eyes wide and startled, a bit like the deer caught in the headlights of sixty-mile-an-hour death. “But…” the boy mumbled. “But… that doesn’t make any sense…”
Gendo narrowed his eyes.
“Why me?!” the boy exploded, jumping to his feet. “Why?! Why did you pick me?” Then, more softly, he added:
“Why are you doing this to me again?”
-
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Bloodstained Saints 03
A/N: I failed to mention this, but I’d like to thank Tmina, Sideris, and Hamstadini as prereaders. You rock, guys.
Bloodstained Saints 03
Under the caverned pyramids great Set coils asleep;
Among the shadows of the tombs his dusky people creep.
I speak the Word from the hidden gulfs that never knew the sun
Send me a servant for my hate, oh scaled and shining One!
-Robert E. Howard
You’re dog food!
-Kouta Hirano
The long-term effects of genetic purification are unknown. Until the technology is understood, it is recommended that all products of the Project be sterilized, chemically or otherwise to prevent contamination of the Human gene pool with alien DNA.
-2006 Report on the Human Instrumentality Project
-
“Get in the Evangelion, Shinji,” Gendo said, icily. The boy did not reply, but remained on the floor, looking on with horror. “Get in the Eva, or we’re all going to die.”
“Why?!” demanded the boy. “What the hell does this have to do with me?!”
Gendo narrowed his eyes, then walked to the side of the balcony. A small console was concealed there; Gendo entered a few commands, and a screen blinked alive to Shinji’s left. The boy looked at it, and it displayed the most horrifying thing he had ever seen: the First Angel, Set. An eye had opened in its chest, a orangey, leering eye with a catlike pupil. It was bearing down on a sullen, seasweapt coast, guarded by tanks and artillery.
The armor began firing, mercilessly pounding the beast with explosive rounds. Artillery fell from above, falling upon the Angel in incendiary flashes. Set burst into flame, but did not stop, or even seem phased – it lumbered on until it stood only a few hundred meters away from his antagonists. He raised one of those y-shaped arms and sweapt it horizontally; in half a second, the entire cliff face disintegrated and fell into the sea, carrying the entire tank force with it.
“What…?” Shinji began, to shocked to say anything else.
“It is the First Angel.”
“Well… what the hell is it?!”
“It is an alien, a creature without morality or logic. Its only objective is the destruction of humanity.”
“And what does this mean to me?!”
“You are only the viable pilot for it.”
Shinji looked up at his father, searching that cold, inexpressive face for some trace of affection. He could find none. “You should find someone else,” the boy said, after a few moments of silence. “I owe you nothing.”
Gendo narrowed his eyes. “Leave.” He turned to the little console on the right and pressed the intercom. “Summon the First. The Third is unusable.”
“She’s half dead,” a female voice responded.
“She’ll do.” He released the intercom button and walked away. Shinji just sat on the floor, too disoriented to get up and move. Suddenly, he became aware of the squeaking noise of a gurney. He slowly rose to his feet and saw several medical people approaching, crowded against the mobile bed like a meat-shield. For a brief moment, they parted, and he caught sight of a girl – an albino, evidently, slight of frame with large, unexpressive eyes. As they wheeled her to the small platform that led to the back of the Eva’s neck. The girl seemed hauntingly familiar, like something that he’d lost a long time ago…
Suddenly, he heard a cry, from who he did not know. He walked over, virtually ignored. When he finally arrived, he got his first good look at Rei Ayanami.
-
“You look very smug,” remarked Fuyutski, “especially in the face of total annihilation.” They were on the Bridge, watching Set stomp on over the UN troops.
“I am confident my son will see the errors of his ways.”
“How so?”
“He is too ethical for his own good.”
“The target is approaching rapidly!” yelled Maya Ibuki. “Detecting seismic disturbances… the creature is creating an earthquake!”
The base rumbled violently, causing several NERV staffers to lose their balance. The Inertial Dampers moaned in protest. Gendo maintained his unreadability; when everyone was on their feet, he demanded a damage report.
“Structural stability maintained!” shouted out Maya. “No serious damage.”
Suddenly, a communication request popped up on Gendo’s laptop, coming from the EVA cage. He accepted, and his son’s face appeared on the monitor, deranged and frightened. He cradled the damaged body of Rei Ayanami beneath him – his shirt and hands were stained with her blood.
“Is this what you want?!” demanded his son. “You want her to die?!”
Gendo narrowed his eyes.
“I’ll pilot your damn robot,” Shinji snarled, “But I hate you. Never forget it, father.”
-
“All right, Ikari,” Misato said, businesslike, “I believe that Dr. Akagi has briefed you on the Eva’s functioning?”
“Yes,” Shinji said, quietly. He sat in the orange depths of the LCL, staring at the walls of the Entry Plug with dull, deathly eyes. He got like that, after his occasional bouts of rage.
“You still with us?” asked Misato, after a few moments of silence.
“Yeah,” Shinji deadpanned. The LCL felt like the Nothing: choking inwards, from all sides, merciless and cold, filling up his lungs with empty. It stung his eyes a little, but not very badly – it was like jumping in a pool without goggles.
“All right. Remember, we just want you to engage the target, not destroy it. When you land your first blow, withdraw. We’re just looking for information on its abilities.”
“Got it.”
There was a pause. “Are you listening to me?!” Misato shouted, harshly.
Shinji flinched. “I’m sorry. I am, really.”
There was a pause. “You’re not quite what I imagined-”
“Enemy within ten kilometers of Tokyo-3!” one of the bridge grunts proclaimed.
“Shit,” muttered Misato. “All right, deploy Unit 01!”
-
Misato watched the screen of Unit 01 rising out of the ground. The Angel, Set, was only a short distance away, y-arms hanging about the level of its knees. Five more eyes had opened in its chest, but they were all smaller than the main oculus – mere imitations and decoys.
Unit 01 was a fearsome machine, reflective purple armor dull in the permanent twilight. Misato glanced at the synch scores. “He’s pretty good for a first-time pilot.”
“Yep,” agreed Ritsuko, neutrally. She sipped her coffee.
Misato reactivated the comm. “Ok, we’re gonna take this slowly. Approach the Angel slowly, and-”
Set charged, four hands extended. Shinji yelped and jumped aside with startling agility, though he nearly bowled over his Eva in the process. Set circled around, nearly severing the umbilical chord as he did so. Shinji turned around to face the Angel, and the creature grabbed him, jerking Unit 01’s arm. Shinji howled in pain.
“Shinji, that isn’t your arm!” Misato yelled, but the boy did not reply.
The arm snapped and Shinji screamed powerful. The claws slashed across Unit 01’s face, gouging out one of its eyes, which fell away in a gory mass of machines and flesh. The optic nerve extended from the wound, grotesquely. Unit 01 stumbled back, and Set delivered a vicious slash, ripping one of the armored plates off altogether.
“Eject the plug!” yelled Misato, as the damage sensors moaned.
“It’s not accepting outside commands!”
Shit, thought Misato, viciously. “All right, order the UN to launch a decoy attack. We have to save the pilot!”
“Confirmed!” replied Shigeru. “UN bombers making a run.”
Flame erupted across Set’s back. The Angel whirled around, arms waving like whips. The psychokinetic force tore through the air, ripping the bombers’ engines out away from the fuselage. They fell from the sky, exploding a short distance away. “Fuck!” exploded Misato. “Get him out of there!”
“I’m working on it!” snarled Ritsuko. “Get off my back!”
Misato looked at the cruel, inhuman face of Set. Where the hell did it come from?!
“We’re getting energy signatures from Unit 01!” Maya cried out.
“What?!” Misato whirled around.
Ristuko rushed over to the console and leaned over it. “Oshit,” she said, staring at the feed. The woman stood up. “Cut the feed!” she yelled. The image on the big screen was replaced by a map of Japan.
Before she even knew what she was doing, she’d grabbed Ritsuko by her collar, staring in straight into her eyes. “Why the hell did you do that?! Answer me!”
-
Shinji Ikari was gone, shunted into the deep, dark parts of his mind: the sullen, rusted part of the spirit-machine that propped up the marionette known as a ‘body.’ Rising up from that despairing darkness was a monster, perhaps some other soul or the ‘second half’ of the one he all ready had.
“You’re Set, huh?” asked the other, reactivating the Weapon with ease. Unit 01 got to its feet eye regenerating. It looked just like Set’s. “You really aren’t much.”
What… are… you? asked Set, telepathically.
Alter-Shinji did not stoop to replying, not at first. “I was promised such a glorious opponent… and this is what I get? I must say, my enemies have been slipping in their choice of servants.”
Answer… me… human…
“You see,” continued the alter-soul in its wicked, lilting voice, “I’m not actually human. I was called the Hound of Ur in the good old days, but… how to say… I’m not what I used to be. But some pitiful creature like you… you’re dogfood.”
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Bloodstained Saints 04
Bloodstained Saints 04
We’ve learned how to destroy, but not to create; how to waste, but not to build; how to kill men, but not how to save them; how to die, but seldom how to live.
-Omar Nelson Bradley
As of the present, the fate of the 1999 expedition to Antarctica is unknown. It yielded only one specimen, carried home aboard the USS Apollo the day before Second Impact. This specimen is the first alien lifeform proven to exist.
-UN 2002 Report on the Human Instrumentality Project
-
“This is messy.” Those were the first words out of Misato Katsuragi’s mouth. The battlefield was sprayed with Angel Blood, splattered across the hills and plains. Occasionally a chunk of the Angel would lay on the ground like a gored mountain, but the pieces were not very big, as a rule.
Misato was on a helicopter circling over the warground in a helicopter. Ritsuko sat by her side, craning her neck to look through the window.
“We’re coming in for a landing, ma’ams,” said the pilot, neutrally.
“Very good,” Misato replied.
-
Shinji was aware of a throbbing pain in his wrist. As his eyes opened, he saw that, somehow, he’d bitten his own wrist, sinking the teeth in deep. Horrified, he released his jaws and removed his hand. The bleeding had stopped, but it looked nasty. Still sickened by his apparent act of masochism, Shinji looked around the entry plug. Most of the LCL had drained, and he was alone with the machine. The weakling light of the emergency systems glowed faintly, casting a pitiful light on the device.
Suddenly, there was the dull clank of machinery and the door rumbled open, filling the cockpit with blinding light. Shinji groaned, shielding his eyes with his good hand. Suddenly, a few rough hands reached in and pulled him out roughly, into the blinding nothing.
Shinji’s brain futilely tried to orient itself as it was dumped onto a stretcher and carried off. His eyes displayed a few discordant images: people in NERV uniforms scurrying about a battlefield stained with blood. The demon form of Unit 01 knelt down on the earth, as if it was issuing some blood-prayer to the sullen sky above. Shinji’s brain did its best, it really did, but in the end it gave up. It just could not put all of the stimuli.
Especially when he was shunted into a dark ambulance and driven off. That was all he could take, and the world went dark.
-
“I see,” Ritsuko said, calmly, listening over the cellphone. “Well, give him some antibiotics, bandage it, then put him in the LCL chamber. He should be fine.” Misato climbed over the upturned soil and surveyed the damage with a critical eye.
“If he keeps getting the Eva banged up like this… I don’t know what we’re going to do,” Misato sighed. “We lost one of the eye plates.”
Rits climbed up to her friend’s sides. “Strange. The eye should have gone with it.”
“So, why the antibiotics?” they started climbing back down, towards the mash of NERV agents and army grunts in the crimson field below.
“Apparently, he bit himself.”
Misato turned to her with a look of disbelief. “He… what?”
Ritsuko shrugged. “Apparently, while Unit 01 was in control, he decided to bite his wrist. It’s a miracle he didn’t bleed to death.”
Misato sighed. “Man, this kid his more messed up than Rei. Are you sure he’s safe?”
Ritsuko shrugged. “He never showed signs of extreme violent urges – just breaking windows and little things. Also, we can give him optimal treatment, so we’ll probably be able to get rid of most of his problems.”
“Famous last words… I guess he’s all we have, anyway.”
-
Shinji was distantly aware of Orange. It was like being in the Entry-Plug, but somehow less hostile. He could not see any walls, and there were no controls to grasp, nothing to kill. He realized gravity no longer applied to him, and that he was free-floating. His eyes, ears, and nose were all filled with LCL, but somehow, it did not sting.
Maybe I’m dead, he thought, absently. Yes, that would be an appropriate end to his life’s journey – born to a murderer, raised by zombies, stolen from his would-be girlfriend, and finally killed by aliens. That sounded just right. The LCL was warm on his skin – somehow, this is how Shinji imagined it felt like to be back in his mother’s womb, without any worries. The only thing he needed to see was the endless ocean of LCL, just like the only thing a baby needed to see was the endless ocean of amniotic fluid.
Yes, I’m probably dead, he concluded. He recalled reading about the Buddhists, who thought that every time you died you were reincarnated in a new body. You spent the time between in a kind of limbo. Maybe this is it, Shinji meditated. Maybe I should shave my head and become a monk. Hah. That was impossible.
-
“The Hound is active?” asked Gendo, apparently speaking to his laptop.
“It seems that way,” replied Ritsuko. “There’s nothing in Shinji’s psych profile to suggest masochism.” Gendo’s computer had a large AUDIO ONLY screen plastered across it.
“Take steps to suppress it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What is the status of Unit 01?”
“The damage is quite minor. All biological components have completely regenerated, and the armor is fairly stable.”
“Very good.”
Gendo cut the connection and leaned back in his chair. The screen displayed a newscast from the Global Network, who in turn was playing a press conference from the UN Ruling Council. “The government has concluded that the only effective weapon against the Angels is the Evangelion…”
“The government finally bowed to us,” mused Fuyutski.
“They need to lose six hundred men before they realized the gravity of the situation.”
“Sounds like a committee at work…”
Suddenly, his computer alerted him to another caller. Gendo leaned forward and accepted the contact. AUDIO ONLY returned.
“Pilot Ayanami has just awoken,” an unknown nurse said, neutrally.
“Very good,” said Gendo, “I will see her shortly.”
-
Shinji had just become accustomed to the orange when he suddenly was flushed from it.
Down, down, down he was pulled, spinning around some nightmare axis towards certain doom. Shinji struggled against the current fruitlessly, and was suddenly pulled into the cold air. He was hit by the first freezing blast of the outside world. He was blinded by the sudden, brilliant lights, and did not notice the quilt being wrapped around him until the sudden frigid sensation weakened and he started to feel warm again. Then, his eyesight came back.
He realized he had been deposited in a white-washed hospital room, sitting in a bed. An unfamiliar ceiling stretched above him, apathetic towards all those who had lived and died beneath it. Moving on a sudden impulse, he pushed himself upright and climbed out of bed, the hospital clothes hanging loosely from him. His footsteps sounded like steel drums on the icy linoleum floor. Slowly, he approached the door and opened it.
Suddenly, he was gazing out a window, out onto the Nothing that separated cities from one another. The hall seemed deserted; the endless rows of doors stretched off towards distant elevators in either direction. There were also two side-corridors leading to other wings of the building.
There was the sound of a hospital bed being wheeled along. Shinji turned and saw several nurses moving a patient down the hall.
And there was his father.
The man was walking alongside the rolling table, eyes focused on the person laying there. He did not look at his sun, or even suggest to the boy that he really existed. As they rolled past, Shinji noted the deathlike form of Rei Ayanami, eyes dully gazing up at the ceiling panels.
And then they were gone.
-
Kaji extreme dislike extended to two basic things: ice-bitch women, and no-smoking signs.
He had just encountered the latter.
The agent watched the cars passing through the hospital parking lot, coming and going at the frantic pace the calls through a switchboard. Occasionally, an ambulance would rush through and drop off some poor fool who had gotten in Set’s way.
After half an hour, Kaji dropped his smoke and stamped it out on the ground. He confidently moved into the lobby and approached the front desk, with a very cute secretary. However, there was no time for that – alas, some castles must remain unconquered. He passed her by and made his way to the elevator.
-
Shinji was back in his windowless room, sitting in the middle of his bed. He had been chastised by the nurses for getting out of bed and firmly returned to his proper place, his only company four impersonal white walls.
The door swung open. Shinji’s head swiveled towards the disturbance: it was the man who had picked him up, Kaji… He still had that ugly tie, smooth smile, and pseudo-formal dress that seemed out of place with the uniformed employees of NERV.
“How are you, my boy?” asked the man, pleasantly.
“Fine,” Shinji replied, softly. He looked down at his sheets, unable to meet the agent’s gaze.
There was an uncomfortable pause.
“What’s the matter?” Kaji asked, soothingly.
Shinji looked up. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s just that… why’d my father have me kidnapped?”
Kaji sighed. “There wasn’t time to recover you through more… conventional means. We would have been dead a long time before social services got around to transferring custody to Commander Ikari and shipping out here.” There was another pause, this time more relaxed. “Come on, I’ll drive you to your new quarters.”
-
The drab, gray buildings of Tokyo-3 stretched over him. Shinji gazed out at passerby, face distant.
“So, you’ll be living on your own?” Kaji inquired.
“Yeah,” Shinji replied.
“I see.” They sat in silence, as Kaji masterfully navigated the manifold roads of Tokyo-3. The city filled Shinji with awe and wonder, but also deep fear: as the labyrinth must have struck Theseus when he approached with his sword and ball of thread.
“So,” Kaji began, not taking his eyes off the congested urban vistas, “Why don’t you go live with your father?”
“I don’t like him very much,” Shinji replied, noncommittally.
“Why not?”
“It’s not important.” Shinji’s voice grew darker and more withdrawn, as if he were retreating from light that shined onto painful topics. Kaji sensed that he had poked the boy too much, pushed him too far too fast. But the kid was off balance, still getting his emotional guard up properly.
“So, kiddo, how would you like to stay with me?”
Shinji’s head swiveled around. “Huh?”
“I asked if you would care to stay at my place for a while-”
“Why?”
Kaji frowned. “Jeez, you can’t even offer people shelter these days…”
Shinji looked out of the window again. His thoughts drifted to the stark, empty room that awaited him, equipped with all the most basic necessities of modern life. He thought of those four unfamiliar walls. He thought of being alone. Then, his thoughts drifted back to his aunt and uncle, who had left him alone – not physically, but in their secret hearts, they had sealed him out, out in the cold darkness.
“Can I stay with you?”
Kaji stopped and stared at the boy. “Kid, we’re all most all the way to your new home, and you change your mind now?!”
-
Top
Bloodstained Saints 05
Bloodstained Saints 05
We live in an age when pizza gets to your home before the police.
-Jeff Marder
Beneath the stygian realms they lie,
Breath of poison,
Eyes of gods,
Beneath the earth they sleep and lie,
17 Angels, teeth as knives.
-Anonymous
-
Kaji’s apartment was not a remarkable place. It had a couch, a chair, a TV, a few pieces of surrealist artwork hanging on the wall, and three bedrooms. The walls were white, with a few windows gazing out onto the grey city below. When Shinji arrived, he found his few possessions neatly stacked in a box just inside the door.
“Huh?” asked, picking them up.
“I had them forwarded here,” Kaji explained, pleasantly. He strode into the room and deposited his keys on the table and headed over the kitchen.
“But…”
“I figured you’d decide to stay with me,” Kaji explained. “Kids don’t like to live on their own. After all, most runaways come home after a few hours.”
“Oh…” Shinji picked opened his box and took inventory. There were his books… his small collection of art supplies, paper, his sketch pad, a small office light, on all his existing drawings.
“Your room is the empty one on the left.” Kaji noted, preparing a cup of ramen.
Shinji entered and found the room unadorned, containing only a desk and a bed. Slowly, Shinji entered and began to assemble his possessions on the desk. His hand instinctively moved them into the exact same arrangement as they had when they still were at his aunt and uncle’s. Shinji marveled at his sense of routine before the ding of a microwave summoned him to dinner.
They ate in silence, two males occupying the same living space without knowing or understanding one another.
“Kaji?”
“Hmm?”
“What is Eva, exactly?”
“It’s the Commander’s creation.”
“But what is it? What is it made out of?”
Kaji swallowed and grinned. “That knowledge is way above my pay grade, Shinji. There are a lot of people who would kill for that knowledge.”
Shinji was startled. “Kill?! What kind of things is my father involved with?”
“Saving the world. It’s a lucrative business, after all. There are lots of companies who would like to break into it.”
They finished eating in silence, and disappeared into their separate rooms. Shinji changed into the pajamas that had been packed with his clothes and laid down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was unfamiliar, just like the hospital.
After several sleepless hours, Shinji threw off the covers and walked over to his desk; flipping on the desk lamp, he took his pencil and paper and slowly began to draw. He did not choose what he imaged; his hands went where they will and that was fine with him. After a while, he produced an image of that girl… Ayanami, she was called, lying on the ground, covered in her own gore. Her face was twisted, her body contorted in agony. Gore spread across the cold steel floor, offering no comfort to the pained girl.
Silently, Shinji placed the picture in his box and returned to his bed.
-
The following morning.
Rei stood outside the hospital, blinded by the sudden glory of the sun. She had replaced her hospital gown with her generic school uniform: a knee-length plaid skirt, an overcoat proudly displaying NERV’s symbol over its breast pocket, and a white shirt underneath that. Like everything Rei involved herself with, its design was, drab and cold, almost inhuman in its dark symmetry.
The land around the hospital was carefully manicured to protect its patients from any threat: all was green and pleasant. Rei was standing under the low overhang that overshadowed the wide hospital doors. Ambulances waited for atrocities in the parking lot, and the infirm came and went.
Finally, Akagi’s car pulled up. It was a blue sedan, small, efficient, and inexpressive . Rei liked Akagi’s car better than she did Ritsuko herself. As the car slowed, the passenger door clicked unlocked and Rei got in, silently.
The car had left hospital grounds before the doctor said anything. As the gates disappeared into the distance, the scientist immediately said: “We’re beginning the initialization test tomorrow. We’ve weeded out the problem that caused the failure last time.”
“Yes, doctor,” Rei said, quietly.
The woman pulled to a stop at a red light. Her blue eyes scanned the distance. “The project is falling behind schedule.
“I apologize.”
“We cannot hold out against the Angels forever. The fourteenth may well be invincible, if our sources are to be believed.”
“I am well aware.”
Akagi gave her a harsh look. “The Commander will not tolerate further delays. Do not fail this initialization.”
“I understand.”
In a second, the woman’s ice-queen veneer disappeared, and she turned back into Ritsuko, Rei’s “pal.” To Rei, it seemed as though this schizophrenia pervaded much of human society. After a few minutes, Ritsuko was chatting one-sidedly on matters of no interest – small talk, it was called. The First Child paid just enough attention to know when to answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’ correctly, but no more. Rei was distantly aware of something about clothes when a familiar name came up: “Shinji…”
“Excuse me?” asked Rei, quietly.
“Hmm? I was just asking what you thought of Shinji…”
“Who is ‘Shinji?’”
“I guess you don’t remember. He’s the commander’s son… just arrived in a couple days ago from his aunt and uncle’s home. He cradled your head in his lap when you fell off the hospital bed during Set’s attack.” She paused. “You know, he’s really quite sweet.”
Rei’s memory displayed an image of countless leering red eyes and a lilting disembodied voice.
“You should get to know him.”
“Why?”
There was a pause.
“How am I supposed to answer that?” asked Ritsuko, dryly.
Rei considered saying something glib. The Commander did not appreciate such remarks, but… perhaps…
“I could inquire the same thing of you,” replied Rei, deadpan.
“Huh…? Rei, did you just make a joke?”
“No, Doctor. I merely made a comment.”
Ritsuko smiled. “But still, you should get to know Shinji… it’d be good to have friends, you know.”
“Why?”
She shrugged.
Rei did not bother to inform Doctor Akagi that she too had read the article in Psychology Today about how teens with friend-peers were 12% more stable on a psychoharmonic graph then those without.
-
Rei’s home was a dark, forlorn house within view of NERV, standing lonely on a hill. It had been there since the sun of the Japanese Empire rose over Manchuria and Hawaii.
Obviously, this is of little relevance, and so it did not occur to Rei as she walked through the door. She felt the eyes of her bodyguards on her, hiding behind rocks and trees. She disappeared through the front door, and her neglected house absorbed her in its loneliness.
Shinji had an aunt and uncle, but Rei had no one, and did not need them.
-
Somewhere in Germany…
Unit 02 was among the mountains, completely covered in snow. Its superhuman eye gave its lone pilot and clear view of the pass, infrared imaging showing the brilliant glow of the feux-angel. Asuka kept her machine as the four-armed entity made its plodding way through the pass, its chest-eye darting about faster than any human could perceive.
The wind roared through the microphones lining the EVA’s armor.
The Angel was directly below Unit 02 now, moving doggedly forwards. As it was just underneath its unseen stalker, the EVA pounced, rising from its frozen sheath and striking. It descended like a beast from a legend so terrible that it’s been systematically forgotten, claws raking down across the unsuspecting Angel.
It never got a chance to strike back.
Asuka tore it limb from limb, arms tearing and rending mercilessly. When the Angel had become many pieces, Asuka smashed the eye, which she had left intact through the entire ordeal.
“SIMULATION ENDED.”
The ice world around Asuka faded and she was once again in her entry plug, a crude imitation of the battle glory she would soon control. The exit panel slid away and the redhead pulled herself free, hair soaked by LCL. The German branch of NERV was all around her, with its countless computers and egghead technicians. The hum of hundreds of processors was omnipresent, merciless.
Asuka was soon joined by her attendant, Elise. Elise was twelve, and said nothing as she offered her mistress a towel. Asuka accepted it wordlessly and dried her hair, not bothering to take out the A-10 nerve connectors.
“That was a fine job,” a voice interjected. The Second looked to her left and saw a large monitor displaying the words ‘NERV 00, Medical-1.’ Ritsuko Akagi was calling from the Japanese branch, in other words.
“It was nothing,” Asuka said, smoothly.
“We need not fear the angels when you come,” continued the doctor. “However…”
“What?” asked Asuka, sharply.
“I told you to stop doing extraneous damage. Destroy the core and only the core.”
“But Doctor…”
“I’ll have none of it. To capture intact cadaveurs is more important than total annihilation – the Angels will not fear you for it, they do not grasp fear.”
“Doctor, how do you know that?”
“Because…” There was a pause. “There are things you do not know. Don’t presume to have all the answers.”
Asuka produced a hmph, not stooping to a response.
“You’re a good pilot, Asuka, but don’t pretend like you’re perfect. Nobody is.”
-
On the drive home, Asuka fumed with maniacal rage. “Who is she to tell me to hold myself back?!” she demanded. Elise sat next to her, delicate hands folded in her lap. “Humanity is in danger, and she wants me to give less than my all?” Asuka did not wait for an answer. “Some people…” She was in a stretch limousine, which was speeding through Berlin. It had all of the amenities someone like Asuka could ever want – internet connection, digital phone connection, and one-way windows, should she ever have a romantic tryst that could not wait. “Some day, I’ll give her a piece of my mind. You agree with me, right Elise?”
“Yes, Mistress.” Her voice was dull and neutral. To give any other answer was certain doom.
“I thought so. Now-”
The digital phone set into the back of the seat in front of Asuka’s rang, loudly. Furrowing her brow, the young woman picked it up. “Ja?”
“Auska.”
“Oh…” she said, nervously. “Mother.”
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to see you off. I’ve got a lot of work to do. This Russian incident is a bigger mess than a thought.”
“Ok…” Asuka struggled to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
“I am very sorry. There’s nothing to be done.”
“It’s ok… really…”
“Goodbye, my child.” The voice of her mother was replaced by a dull, inhuman dial tone. Slowly, Asuka hung up the phone and looked out the window, eyes distant. Elise just stared at the back of the next seat up.
-
Day two with Kaji. Shinji was eating breakfast, which consisted of orange juice and something that could have been eggs. They sat opposite one another, silently. Shinji always managed to become a black hole of conversation: Hikari Horaki was one of the few who could illicit a response from him, but she was far away.
“How do you like Tokyo-3?” asked Kaji.
“It’s fine.”
There was a pause. “Tell the truth, Shinji.”
The Third looked up from his plate. The man was looking at him with unreadable dark eyes, a faint smile on his face.
“It’s full.”
“How so?”
“It’s full of things. People. Things. Memories. Noises.”
Kaji waited for his charge to elaborate.
“Mostly bad.”
Kaji raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
Shinji looked out the window, eyes distant. “Just to see it is to witness a rape of the earth.”
“You could say that of a lot of places.”
“Yes… but here… I can feel it, not just see it. There’s something wrong, something fake, like this place is a caricature of a city, something meant to stand until it is unneeded, then collapse like a house of cards in a gentle wind. This place is a false city.”
Kaji smiled and glanced out window. “An entire city as a decoy. That’s quite a thought.”
“Am I wrong?” asked Shinji. The boy’s eyes shifted to Kaji, suddenly in focus. “Please, tell me I’m wrong.”
The agent sighed, lowering his fork. “I don’t know, Shinji. But I want to show you something, first.”
-
They were passing through the congested streets of the city. Cars of all shapes and sizes flowed around them like a chrome river with concrete banks. A torrent of pedestrians mobbed the sidewalks, so tightly packed that one misstep could send someone spilling into the road. The window was down, and Shinji could smell the car fumes from thousands of hungry engines.
“It smells terrible.”
“That it does,” agreed Kaji. “Why don’t you roll up the window.”
“Part of me wants to smell it.”
“Why?”
“I dunno.”
Kaji smiled, smoothly. “Some people enjoy pain.”
“Why?”
“It validates their existence. It proves that they stood upon this big earth and took something away with them, even a bad something.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Isn’t it? I learned that in my psyche class back in college – all handwaving, in my opinion.”
As the car escaped the urban gridlock, they entered an area filled with sickly yellow grass, stretched across hills like skin across a dieing man’s bones. Various old houses stood on these knolls, mostly unoccupied. They were the few buildings high enough to be spared from the floods that followed the War.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
After fifteen minutes of driving, the old thunderbird climbed a hill and stopped beneath a tree. From this vantage point, Shinji could see all of Tokyo-3. The concrete monster loomed before him, stone spires swarmed by thousands of tiny buildings. Smokestacks belched sullen dark gas into the mustard yellow sky. The sun sank low into the horizon, casting a crimson glow over urbia.
“What is this, Kaji?”
“It’s Tokyo-3. We just left there, I case you weren’t paying attention.”
“No, that’s not what I meant…”
“I just wanted to impress upon you a certain fact… This is humanity, so far as we are concerned. Now, humanity has done some hideous things – as Voltaire once put it, ‘History is nothing more than a tableau of crimes and misfortunes.’ So, why not let humanity die? It’s not like we’ve accomplished very much.”
The question startled Shinji. “Because…”
“Because what? The Holocaust? The Great Depression? The Rape of Nanking? The Conquest of Mesoamerica?”
“But if humanity dies out, what about me? I’ll die.”
“But Shinji… why is your life worth saving.”
It’s been said that a mouse applying pressure to exactly the right point can topple a mountain. This may be a bit of an exaggeration, but the point remains – the right strike at the right place can change the world.
Shinji was forced to confront a frightening fact. My life is not worth living. “But…”
“To live without purpose is a terrible fate, Shinji.”
-
Top
Bloodstained Saints 06
Bloodstained Saints 06
Mathematics, rightly viewed, possesses not only truth, but supreme beauty – a beauty cold and austere, like that of a sculpture.
-Bertrand Russel
This is not a story.
-A Philosopher
-
“No worries, Shinji,” Kaji said, coolly. “It’s a good school. Rei goes there.” Shinji was wearing the uniform that had been delivered to Kaji’s apartment. Outside, the sun cast a pallid glow on the sickly trees of Saiachi Academy. The facility had several separate buildings, each marked with a number. Students in dark uniforms were steadily migrating towards the campus, in groups ranging from three to ten.
“What… is this?” asked Shinji, voice trembling. He was sitting in the passenger seat, watching the school in awe.
“Your father had you sent here,” Kaji explained, pleasantly. “Only the rich get in, you know.”
“But…”
“Don’t worry, Shinji. If you have problems, just find Rei – she’s been going here since kindergarten.”
“You mean the girl with the blue hair…”
“That’s the one. Good luck, Shinji.”
Shinji slowly got out of the car. Kaji drove off, suddenly realizing he was a good five minutes late for work. The Third slowly advanced toward the academy, feet clopping loudly on the asphalt. He could not pick out Ayanami’s distinctive blue hair, try as he might.
He passed a group of young women in the school’s uniform, chatting cheerfully among themselves. Eventually, he stopped and leaned against a twisted, lonely tree, scanning the new arrivals until he finally noticed Rei: a short girl with a shock of blue hair passing through the main gate. He got up and made his way towards her.
Rei’s left arm was in a sling, her eye was covered by a bandage, and bandages were stuck over visible patches of skin. “Ayanami!” he called. Her head swiveled in his direction.
“You are the Third Child?” asked Rei.
“Yeah…”
“I am late,” she said, almost sternly.
Shinji flushed a bit. “I’m- I’m sorry. This is my first day, and I don’t know-”
“Follow me.” Rei set off meaningfully. Her stride was a powerful one, despite her low frame. Her book bag hung from her good arm limply.
Shinji glanced around nervously. “Umm… how long have you been at NERV?” asked Shinji.
“Seven years,” she replied, flatly.
“Oh…” He searched for something to say. He rapidly found that it was impossible to make small talk with Ayanami – she simply was not conducive to it. He did not want to talk about her hair or her eyes for fear of offending her, and he did not want to ask after her injuries for the same reason.
“I’m sorry!”
She turned around and Shinji had to rush to reach the top before she disappeared out of site. He reached the landing just in time to see her disappear through a doorway. Putting on a burst of speed, he rushed to the closing door – room 19, it was labeled – and burst in.
It was nearly empty, and contained all of six students. Rei was approaching her desk, where a student with blond hair and glasses had assembled a chess set on a desk. He stood over the board, looking smug.
“Aida,” acknowledged Rei.
“Ayanami,” replied the boy. He sounded and looked at least part American. Near him sat a boy with a flattop haircut and a resigned look.
“She’s a murderer,” he said, through a thick Yakuza accent. “She’s gonna destroy you, Kensuke, just like the last one hundred times.”
“Not this time!” He proclaimed. Rei seated herself, taking command of the black forces. “I have a new opening, which is guaranteed to work!”
“Move,” Rei said, flatly.
Kensuke gave her a harsh look and advanced his pawn.
“I thought you said we were late,” panted Shinji.
“I recall saying that I was late, Ikari,” Rei said.
“You know this guy?” asked Kensuke, confused. “He your boyfriend or something?”
“No!” Shinji exclaimed, louder than was strictly believable.
“He is a coworker,” Rei said, and pushed her own pawn forward.
“You have a job?”
“Play,” repeated Rei. The game commenced. Shinji sat at the desk beside and watched the game play out, eyes watching the pieces move and fight across the checkered field. Kensuke, he noticed, was visibly nervous; Rei remained stoic. The jock simply closed his eyes and relaxed, resigned to his friend’s complete annihilation.
Suddenly, Kensuke’s queen charged out from behind his line of pawns and captured Rei’s bishop. “Ha!” he proclaimed. “You have fallen into my trap!” Shinji’s imagination instantly summoned a picture: a white warrior queen carrying twin blades, standing among a field of corpses. In the distance, smoke rose, and crouched men with pikes dotted the background.
Rei’s own queen dodged out of nest and directly attacked Kensuke’s king. The white bishop defended, when Rei retaliated by moving her rook to the first rank, striking at Kensuke’s trapped king. The bishop, pinned to the king, was powerless to defend.
“Checkmate,” Rei said.
Another image flashed through Shinji’s head: two gigantic dark figures shaking hands, standing over a checkered battlefield lined with twisted corpses. Flames rose from piles of burning bodies as the tired survivors of the losing side raised their weapons for one last stand. The white king lay on his side, mortally wounded.
Kensuke’s face twisted into a look of utter horror. “How did I… how did I… lose?”
As Kensuke bemoaned his fate, Shinji produced his drawing pad and a pencil from his bag and began to draw the two pictures, lovingly shading each on with complete detail.
-
Kaji strode into work with a smile on his face and his tie suitably ugly. Misato was leaning over Ritsuko’s chair to read a console, eyes scanning the data on the screen with lightning speed. Ritsuko was sipping her coffee and looking neutral.
“I’m back!” Kaji said, cheerfully. “Didja miss me?”
Misato’s eyes froze over the screen. “Kaji,” she said, in her darkest possible voice.
“Yep?” he acknowledged cheerfully.
“Do you realize how late you are?”
“Uhh… ten minutes?”
“Yes, Kaji. And when you’re in the business of saving the world, THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE!” She turned on him, eyes blazing like a tormented demon from the lowest, darkest pit of hell.
“Come on, I don’t think ten minutes would make much of a difference to an Angel,” Kaji said, as if hurt.
Ritsuko leaned back on her chair and pulled a pair of headphones over her ears. “Tap my shoulder when you two are done,” she said, flatly.
“Wrong! If you were needed to make a recovery, where would you be? Out screwing some hussy, that’s what!”
“I was taking Shinji to school,” he replied, defensively. “Although the biology teacher did look rather fine…”
“Why can’t you take anything seriously, dammit?!” demanded Misato. “This is serious!”
“Come on, cut me some slack. Since when do angels show up every day? Last time they took fifteen years…”
“That proves nothing!” she yelled at him. “We know nothing about them, except that they’re hell-bent on our destruction!”
“But-”
“GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!” yelled Misato, and Kaji scurried from the room. She turned and tapped Ritsuko on the shoulder.
She removed the headphones. “So,” asked the Doctor, “Are you through berating him for the day?”
“I might strike again at lunch – I’m feeling pissy today. What’d we learn from our extraterrestrial friend?”
“Well, his genes are more than a bit weird,” Ritsuko began, pulling up a magnified image on the computer. It showed DNA structured in an elaborate hexagon formation, much like a snowflake.
Misato whistled. “Not earthborn, that’s obvious.”
“Exactly. But stranger…” she pulled up another image, this one displaying the creature’s crushed eyeball. “This eye contains many fluids found in industrial waste products.”
“Pollution? Why?”
“No idea. However, it’s been theorized that it somehow landed in a polluted zone – say, the coast of Australia - and picked up the chemicals there.”
“I don’t like it,” muttered Misato. “It doesn’t fit.”
“Nor do I. I don’t believe it could accrue these kinds of concentrations without prolonged exposure.”
“Then what?” asked Misato.
“So it’s been on earth for some time. Sleeping. When the industrial revolution rolled about, it started picking up two hundred years worth of filth.”
“Sleeping…” She considered. “Rits, how did it go undetected? It’s a goddamn monster.”
“I don’t know, Misato.”
“How many are there?”
“If we missed this thing… well, there could be hundreds.”
-
“The war raged for a little under twelve hours,” the history teacher droned. “For twelve hours, the People’s Republic of China and the United States of America rained ballistic destruction upon each other. It was a new kind of war, one without vast armies marching across enemy soil, without armored divisions crushing armies beneath their treads. It was fought entirely on the interweb, in the air, and at sea.”
His voice was completely deadpan. Shinji paid just enough attention to realize that this would be interesting in the hands of a competent teacher.
“When the war was over, casualties were in the millions, and governments of either country were in ruins. The leaders of the world became painfully aware of the fact that conventional wars were fully capable of ending human civilization.”
Shinji’s eyes wandered across the student body. Almost all showed near-total disinterest. They were whispering to one another, passing notes, playing games furtively programmed in the computer lab and then transferred to school laptops. Shinji’s own computer had been issued to him shortly before the class began. It lay shut on his desk.
His eyes turned to Rei. She was gazing out the window, legs neatly crossed. Her laptop was unopened as well. And Shinji reflected that she was beautiful.
-
Unit 00 slept deeply, its alien eye shut. Its new paint job was complete, instead of being orange and displaying PROTOTYPE in large letters, it displayed ‘UNIT 00’ and was painted blue.
The PR division had decided that having it say ‘prototype’ would be a blow to public confidence, and so badgered the Engineering division into doing a twelve thousand dollar redesign.
Ritsuko sighed, inside of her office.
She was staring at the programming for Unit 00’s entry plug. It was ridiculously overcomplicated, and some genius had decided to save space by deleting all the comments. As a result, the prototypes coding was almost impossible to read by anyone except a prodigy. Luckily, Ritsuko Akagi was a prodigy.
She leaned forward and resumed her relentless typing. As such, she was oblivious Kaji approaching her office. After checking to make sure the Evil Demon (AKA Misato Katsuragi) was no where in sight, he entered, carrying two cups of coffee.
“Hey there,” he said, amiably.
Ritsuko did not reveal her surprise. She looked up. “Mr. Kaji… whatever brings you here?”
“What? Am I not allowed to bring coffee to my hard-working friend?”
The doctor gave a mock sigh. “I suppose I’ll make an exception this once.” She accepted the Styrofoam cup and sipped it, considered it: “You know, we’re sole hope of the entire human race hangs on us and we can’t make a decent cup of java.”
“It doesn’t bode well. So, how goes the work on Unit 00?”
“Ok, I suppose,” she turned back to the computer. “This programming is righteously screwed up. I’m half-convinced we should just scrap the existing code and use a modified version of Unit 01’s.”
“Sounds messy.”
“You can say that again. Also, the backup battery seems to have an acid leak, and the biological components have contracted END.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. We’re having to regenerate them all from scratch. Also, there’s a feedback error in the rear modulation unit…”
“So how long before she’s combat ready.”
Ritsuko turned back towards her monitor, still clutching her coffee. “No idea. Probably a week or two…”
“Is there any good news?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause.
“Well?”
“We just saved a bunch of money on our mecha insurance by switching to Geico.”
Kaji chuckled, then a few moments passed in silence. They silently nursed their drinks.
“So…” Kaji began. “How would you feel that we go on a date tonight?”
Akagi gave him a sidelong look. “What? Still trying to make Misato jealous? Go use Maya, she’ll never fall for it.”
“Nothing of the kind. You’re an attractive lady, and I’ve noticed that you don’t have any pictures on your desk…”
Ritsuko gave her workplace a critical look. Indeed, it was barren of personal objects, with the exception of her cat-shaped digital clock. Mostly, it was an overflow of official papers and computer components.
“And, really, the cat clock thing does not bode well on a personal level.”
“I could take offence at that,” Ritsuko said, facetiously.
Kaji gave a smooth grin. “So, how about it? Just me, you, and some smooth jazz… I know this club down by-”
“I might say yes, if a certain soldier weren’t watching us.”
Kaji whirled around and saw Misato staring at him through the window in the door. In her hand was an open cellphone, its glowing face looking at him. She pushed her way in, and Kaji cowered in mock terror.
Ritsuko pulled her earphones on and called out, “Tap me on the shoulder if when you’re done,” she sighed.
“In case you didn’t realize, Doctor Akagi has work to do,” said Misato, almost snarling. “AND SO DO YOU!”
“Come on, no one’s sent the Commander a death threat lately.”
“No, they haven’t… but Shinji needs you to pick him up from school.” From her tone, it was very easy to infer that her wrath was a volcano just a few seconds from violently exploding.
“Shit!” proclaimed Kaji, startled.
“And I’m very curious to find out why you turned your cell off.” She was never enlightened, for Kaji rushed out the door at that moment. She sighed, inwardly, and put her phone to her ear. “Third? Yeah. He’s on his way. No worries.”
-
Shinji sat on a bench outside of the school, just to the left of the gates. Rei sat on a bench situated on the opposite side of the entrance, gazing resolutely off into the distance. Shinji’s thoughts were drifting through his one strong memory of home: Hikari. He had dreamed of her last night. They were both naked, sitting in a tub. In the dream, he couldn’t move, and he didn’t want. Hikari was patiently washing his body, going over everything, making no effort to conceal her breasts. The whole time she was murmuring, “Don’t worry, Shinji… I’ll take care of you… don’t worry…” The last thing he remembered was when she finished and pulled him out the tub, and whispered, “We’ll never be parted, Shinji… I’ll be your flesh…”
And then he had woken up. And there was a semen stain on the inside of his pants.
But now… he was plagued by feelings of infidelity. He’d looked at Rei and thought she was beautiful…
A car pulled up, a red firebird. Its breaks squealed as it halted. Shinji stood up, school bag in hand. Rei did likewise, but he didn’t notice this at first. Kaji got out, wearing sunglasses and ugly tie, per usual. “Hey kids?” he called, cheerfully. “Didja miss me?”
-
Commander Ikari watched the visual feed of Agent Kaji’s car through his flat screen monitor. It was traveling towards NERV, blissfully unaware that almost one hundred paramilitary agents were ready to defend it.
“Are you sure putting the boy with the Agent was a good idea?” asked Fuyutski.
“He’ll do,” Gendo said, inexpressively.
“He was late…”
“He’ll do,” the Commander repeated.
There was a pause.
“You’ll be pleased to know that our stock just split and we’re about to outdistance Far Eastern Paramilitary…”
“Good.”
“They’re paying us to defend New York…”
Gendo could not help but smirk. “A city that is not in the slightest bit of danger.”
Fuyutski shook his head. “It made me feel bad to take the city’s money – but that isn’t of any concern to you, is it?”
“None whatsoever.” Gendo closed the window on his computer. It quickly shifted to a desktop with a NERV wallpaper and a small collection of icons. He pulled opened a folder labeled ‘possibilites.’ A serious of identity manifolds appeared on the screen, mostly the daughters of major corporations – or the female leaders themselves.
“Spying?” asked Fuyutski, dryly.
“No,” Gendo said, stoically.
Fuyutski’s wide old eyes perused the screen. “Oh, I get it. Using your son as a bargaining chip?”
“Precisely.”
“And here I was, thinking that arranged marriages were a thing of the past. We act so civilized…”
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