Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The SI Generation was undoubtedly talented…though they weren't good at living long. EVA technology would be centuries away, or simply impossible, without their intelligence and their brutal lack of ethics. They scientifically verified and controlled what philosophers call the soul. 'Metaphysical Biology' is science's finest and final jab at the old ivory tower.

Yet because of SEELE's cultishness and its overbearing scrutiny, and perhaps because of a sort of intellectual fetish of their own, these scientists dressed their discoveries in Gnosticism and kabbalah. These protected the staggering power of their advances from the uninitiate, and also provided a kind of smokescreen from their less-technical overlords; but in the end, they also hid the fullest extent of their insights even from themselves.

I have no such impediments or predilections. I have quantified the 'soul.' Plato is dead, Aristotle is disgraced. Long live Democritus, hail to Lucretius.

Act One, Scene One

Blinding fluorescent lights. Overpowering smell of disinfectant and…copper? Tumbling down a flight of metal stairs. She didn't feel the falls per se, but the spinning. Bump bump bump bump. Stop. Well, she probably stopped, but her vague vision still reeled. Where was up? Disembodied voices, rapid and excited speech and yells of indeterminate language and meaning, assaulted her from all sides.

Like many people going into or coming awake from an induced sleep or coma, her sole act of will was to attempt to be as rational and attentive as possible, to process this utter flood of stimuli quickly and efficiently, to come. awake. She scrabbled at the sights and sounds, trying to put them in order. Naturally, she mostly failed. Her skull felt hollow and her temples were pounding.

"Wh…" she began. Her parched throat closed up and the world around her flickered. The migraine (which she now distinctly identified) reached a fever pitch. She closed her eyes and focused on drawing breath. A prick on her upper arm; a hypodermic needle, she idly realized. A deliciously cold feeling spread up the vein. When the feeling reached her head, she immediately began feeling clearer. Gradually, the babble of voices resolved into intelligible language.

"Dr. Soryu! Dr. Soryu! Can you understand me?" someone earnestly asked about two inches, or maybe two miles, too close to her face.

"Ugh…" Her brain still ached and pulsed. She drew away from the stimuli and simply counted the throbs of pain crashing in time with her heartbeat. One, two…thirteen, fourteen…twenty-two, twenty-three…

"Let me administer another shot of noradrenaline!" someone exclaimed. No, no, no, the fool, just wait...

"Lay off! The first has barely had any time to take effect!" an authoritative voice screeched back like nails on a chalkboard.

She began attending to her surroundings again. Absolutely overwhelming white light began resolving itself into more comprehensible colors. Her spatial horizon steadily expanded. Cavernous spaces yawned around her, but there still seemed to be a ceiling of some kind far above. As her somatosensory systems woke up, she perceived a chilling, metallic cold underneath her. Draped over her body was something warm and linen…a towel, perhaps? All over her body was a horrid, tacky wetness.

Blurry, towering shapes became human figures in her eyes. The whiteness of their clothing confused her perception until she anchored her focus on crease-lines and pockets, and determined that these were lab coats. Further away, there were clusters of figures in red-tan uniforms or dark fatigues. To her left, where no echo returned from the clamor, something utterly enormous cast a shadow over her. Dark lines and cables radiated from it. Faces, however, were still a little ways off from her grasp.

Okay…But maybe now she could talk.

"Where…" she heroically managed.

"She's coming around! Kestrel, please put the needle away now!" the first voice called.

She could perceive where that particular voice was coming from and locked her still-focusing eyes onto its source. Brown, dark brown, short…Feminine frame of face, but sharp. The eyes, brown too.

"Dr. Soryu!...Hold on, this'll get too confusing…er…Frau Doktor! Can you understand me?"

"Mmnn…Who?..."

"Ah! I'm Captain Ib–" the face-voice-thing began before it vanished from the known world.

"Move, techie! You'd confound a fully conscious person, much less a waking comatose!" the authoritative voice growled as it moved nearer to her field of view. That one was that one, and this one was…this one. Individual, novel. "Hey, hey, look here!"

Oh. Rusty red. That seemed familiar. She had a past now, she recalled dimly, and in that past she took great pride in the rarity of such red after the Second Impact devastated many of the lands where it abounded and yet it ran so strong in her family although one must acknowledge that it attracted undue attention where she usually wanted to be left to her work but even so even as she reached the pinnacle of her career she still took just as much pride and joy in seeing that color in…

"Asuk…a?"

"We've got her back! Mama!" Yes, there were those crystal blue eyes she had gazed at for four golden years.

But in those days, they were limpid. They retained their beauty, but shadows backed and lined them. That light now filtered through breaks in ominous thunderheads rather than clear noon air. They looked older. How long had she been asleep? This line of thought was cut short by her head coming more vertical suddenly, upending the world as she knew it. Her neck limply pitched forward before she could catch herself.

"Dr. Soryu, please don't move her too much! She's still coming around!" someone called out nervously.

"Back off, Kestrel! This is the pinnacle of my career!" Asuka, yes her daughter indeed, exuberantly replied above her ear. She could feel her daughter's arms trembling. "You morons have dragged me down for years! And now you have the nerve to slow me down? Know your place!"

"Ah, Asuka…" she rasped. Four syllables, not bad. She craned her neck painfully to recenter and refocus on that beacon of her memory and life.

Mid-transit on this excruciating little journey, one detail of the cavernous room flashed through her mind. She was laying on some sort of wide catwalk or gantry, she recognized from years of working on just such a one. Distantly, at the far end of the walkway, a towering figure was the sole one not regarding her. Rather, it was walking away, hands in pockets. Why did it catch her eye? Was it the height? The gait, just a little heavy on one leg, perhaps? She couldn't fathom it. After a split second of this distraction, she completed the passage to her daughter and locked back onto those eyes.

"Okay, mother…can you tell me your name? Do you know where you are? Where you've been?" Asuka rattled off.

"I am…Kyoko, Zeppelin Soryu…" she began, staring back, but finding herself needing to squint now.

"Yes, yes! Keep going…" her daughter pressed.

"I…I don't know where I am. Did the…ah…contact experiment fail?...Where?..." Her mind raced to fill in the missing details, but the shot they gave her was wearing off rapidly. The edges of her vision were receding back to gray and black. The smell of copper was bordering on the sickening, and even as she slipped away she was getting closer and closer to placing its origin. Was that what had made her think of her greatest experiment just now? Ah, but that…

"No, come on, stay with me! Stay with me!" Too late, she was slipping away.

Strangely enough, Kyoko's last waking thought was not of her daughter, who might as well be a stranger or acquaintance for all she had aged. Her mind instead lingered on that receding figure as though drawn by gravity, or by some intuition that it possessed enormous importance.

Who was that?

End Act One, Scene One.

Chapter Text

First I declare that what we call soul and mind,

In which are placed counsel and regulation of life,

Are part of a person, the same as hand and foot and eye

Which also comprise the parts of a whole animal.

Thus, the soul truly inhabits the limbs of the body;

Nor does the flesh feel any sort of incorporeal 'harmony.'

-Lucretius, De Rerum Natura

Act One, Scene Two: Bearings

EDD Medical Ward, Room 105.

Kyoko woke in a much smaller, much more manageable, but no less intensely white hospital room.

The whitewashed space, no more than twenty by thirty feet, had little but the barest necessities. An IV drip and an oxiclip connected to her left arm, and a steady beeping sounded out on the same side from machines behind her. A single chair sat askew to her right, near her legs. Close to her head was a bedside table with a remote, which she assumed was connected to the small television above her, anchored just in front of the central overhead light. The room was otherwise cheerless and barren, even windowless.

She lay there in dread for time unknown and tried to orient herself with memories that grew blurrier and vaguer the more recent they were. Where, and more importantly when, was she? With almost no context around her, she had only her own thoughts to spin.

The contact experiment must have failed one way or another, that much she could gather. The last she could distinctly recall of that day were the alarms blaring in the Entry Plug. After that, an extraordinary, timeless, dreamless void filled her memory. For an unknown period, there floated within that darkness impressions of panic, of adrenaline, of mind-numbing pain like surgery without anesthetic. On instinct, without knowing quite why she did, she feebly felt at her shoulders joints and her neck with arms screaming from disuse but at least functional. She reached to feel as much of her back as she could. Something felt wrong, but no, all was there, all intact. The sound of weeping not her own had filled her ears sometimes. But after those sporadic impressions of pain in that long dream, nothing again. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing…A void at the end of time. Heat death of the universe, purgatory of emptiness, true nature of being.

And then there was light, too much too soon, and the confusion on that gantry. A woman who by all appearances was her daughter, save that she looked the same age as Kyoko herself, or even older. Those shadowed eyes troubled her. If that was Asuka, then Kyoko must have been in that shapeless darkness for decades. Yet besides the weakness of disuse, she felt and looked (at least from what she could see of herself) no older than her last clear memories in the world. She suddenly wondered how her husband was doing.

Something else nagged at the corner of her mind, but she couldn't flesh it out with an image or impression just yet. A lingering feeling from all that tumult on the walkway.

So she waited, and waited, and waited, lying there helplessly. Her arms could only move feebly; she had no desire to test her legs, unused for an unknown length of years. Well, if she could use her hands, then she could at least try to gather some more information. What else was there to do, try to mentally examine old notes and theories, relive school and university days she took little pleasure in then or now? Wonder how her experiment failed and just what had happened? She didn't feel up to that much guesswork; her head still felt a bit hollow. She painstakingly reached for the remote, turned on the device, and clicked through the channels to search for anything of use.

"—And of course, a thousand 'thank you's to our sponsors who help keep us on the lighter side of life in the midst of these times—"

"—It's obvious to me, to any expert on the matter really, that the Ural Coalition is keeping more cards to its chest than we can even count yet—"

"—Once again, we reassure you, the public, that the situation on the Himalayan frontier is under strict control at this time—"

"—When you save with our brands, you don't just support a domestic business—all proceeds from this fire sale will be contributed to the JNDA Patriot's Fund, so you can save big and secure our future—"

"—Anonymous sources have been raising the alarm about critical security leaks since last month's unprecedentedly massive cyber attack—"

"—Today, as a matter of fact, marks the sixteenth anniversary of the extremely controversial coup in NERV Central which sent global politics spiraling into chaos..." This sounded…more significant. But what was NERV?

"Alternative stories and conspiracies continue to abound as to what really caused the fragmenting of the UN's foremost defensive research organization at the end of 2015. Our investigators continue to confirm the reliability of the evidence presented by the JNDA that the Evangelions, then highly classified weaponry, were just barely averted from catastrophic misuse on the part of high-ranking NERV and UN officials following the devastating N2 bombing of Tokyo-3…"

Kyoko's eyes widened in horror. Those bombs and that city were still blueprints the last she knew of them. What had become of the world since her failed experiment? The critical dates mentioned confirmed her rough timeline—more than twenty-four years had now passed without her awareness. It was the end of 2031. A quarter of a century utterly lost.

Her reeling mind and her attention to the broadcast were cut short by the opening door. A kindly-looking, middle-aged nurse in a white uniform wheeled a small cart in front of her. As she turned her neck to scan the whole room, Kyoko observed a small bun of black hair tied up behind her neck. As the nurse turned toward her, she noted rather heavyset, but vaguely Eastern, facial features and plain brown eyes, which shot open as they made contact with Kyoko's.

"Oh! You're awake! I-I'll go let Central staff know right away! Forgive me, ah, Dr. Soryu—" the nurse said as she practically fell over herself reaching for a pager at the same time as she maneuvered the cart and turned her body. Her Japanese had just a tinge of an accent, the sort that even decades of fluent practice don't utterly eliminate in some speakers.

"Wait, please…Just tell me a bit about where I am first," Kyoko cut her off gently. Having someone to interact with helped clear her head, and on instinct she started trying to relate a bit to this nurse. Or get a read on her, if one wanted to be more cynical about it. "It's a bit scary to wake up in a hospital you don't even know, eh?"

"W-Well, you're in the EDD's deep medical ward. Some of the head researchers assigned you here at top priority. It's been a while since I've had such a high profile patient!" the nurse began, rapidly turning from hurried assurances to blatant preening at being assigned such an important task. She put the pager on the cart for the moment, but was still poised to move and make her call.

"Okay…but please, more generally, where am I? I suppose this isn't, ah…Berlin, is it?" Obviously, we're speaking Japanese, after all…

The nurse's eyes widened once again. "Oh no, miss! We couldn't possibly get you treatment there these days! Berlin of all places!" She chuckled a bit, turning more fully to Kyoko but still not approaching her. What happened to Berlin? "We're in Tokyo-3's Geofront, the pride of Japan." The nurse straightened up a bit at the last part, half-sincere and half-habitual.

The last Kyoko knew of the Geofront, it was scarcely excavated, and only project-critical facilities were completed in the underground proper. Granted, even back then this and Tokyo-3 were on track to be fully operational only a few years after the completion of 02. She was slated to join the project had her experiment not failed so miserably, but it seemed that they got along without her. Yet another wonder of humanity's frantic pace after its reckless triggering of the Second Impact, she mused. Their reckless triggering. Mustn't dwell on it.

"...High profile, you say. Do you often get assigned to such patients?" This woman was a bit of a talker, so Kyoko might as well get some useful information out of this. If this 'EDD' that had retrieved her was anything like a spiritual successor to Gehirn and the associated UN departments, then she could count on hours of pointless bureaucratic hot-potato and little new knowledge to show for it in the near future.

"Well, it's been quite a while since we've dealt with something this important, maybe not since the last time Dr. Ik…" she paused, then hurried forward. Curious. "Ahm…Well, that's a matter of confidentiality, sorry!" She radiated nervousness now. Delicately, delicately…

"I understand all too well, please don't worry about it," Kyoko smiled placatingly. "So…you've worked here for a while? What's your name?"

The nurse relaxed a bit, her brow unknitting. "I'm Keiko! Pleased to meet you, Dr. Soryu. I've been here for a long time now! Since the Angel War, in fact."

Kyoko's train of thought instantly derailed.

After a brief and very vague kind of debriefing from Keiko, who didn't seem to believe that anyone couldn't know about humanity's finest hour and closest call, the nurse finally left to inform her superiors that her charge was awake.

What a hell of a thing to miss out on. Or rather, if she was in Unit-02 the whole time, to not be conscious of. Was that the cause of those phantom pains? Had Gehirn and 02 fulfilled their tasks after all? A weight off her soul, Kyoko supposed. The urgency of preparing against the Angels was the justification for rushing the experiments in Antarctica; still, blood was on her and her peers' hands for the mishandling that happened along the way. At least the fruits of those mistakes accomplished their purpose. But still, the facts were the facts. Gehirn's results didn't justify the atrocious means, no matter how accidental, did they?

So why did EVA technology seem to still exist? What was it being used for now? And how did her daughter even retrieve her from 02? Heaven knows they tried that with Yui for years. If they got Kyoko out, was that good old brainiac free of Unit-01 as well? Each bit of new information raised more questions like a hydra and its heads.

The door slid open once again, and two figures stepped in. One was Asuka. Again, Kyoko did a double take. So many of her features were preserved from childhood: her hair, her eyes, her striking features. How she had grown, though. She stood taller than her mother, at perhaps five feet and nine inches.

It was also plain to see that the years had been unkind to her. She should have just turned thirty by now. Still a touch younger than Kyoko, yet a stranger might take her for the older one. She wore a somewhat crumpled lab coat over her blouse and skirt. Her hair, cut plainly down to her shoulders and unadorned, looked somewhat unkempt. Around her eyes were those troubling hints of shadows contrasting with pale skin, speaking volumes of all-nighters and troubled sleep. She gazed at Kyoko not so much with excitement or joy as with focused anticipation. Kyoko wondered if she looked the same when she was studying people and trying to read them. It was not the most welcoming expression for her long-lost and recently-reunited mother.

The rather plain-looking middle-aged man next to her didn't seem to be doing too much better. His English features were carved through with crows' feet, and there were deep wrinkles in his forehead, from which short, fading blond hair was rapidly receding. Small spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose obscured part of his face because of the light reflecting off them, but over the top half Kyoko could see pale blue eyes greeting her somewhat wearily. He, too, wore a white coat, though it was neater than her daughter's. He was an inch or two shorter than Asuka.

"Mother," Asuka said softly, measured.

"Asuka," Kyoko replied, turning her attention back to her daughter. No show of exuberance, then. Already playing with cards close to the chest?

After an awkward silence, the man cleared his throat. "I'm Dr. Kestrel. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Frau Doktor. I hope–"

"Kestrel. If you aren't aware…you're interrupting something," Asuka murmured to him with a sidelong glare.

"Hmm…Kestrel, you said. You were there when I woke up first?" Kyoko replied as kindly as she could, making eye contact with the wearied doctor. Asuka frowned at the redirection.

"That's right. The culmination of a lot of research. Glad to see you're doing alright." He looked pleased that she had returned pleasantries after all.

"She's only doing alright because we stopped you from pumping her full of noradrenaline, Kestrel. Who on earth gave you an MD? Goddamn witch-doctor," Asuka growled the words out. "Why don't you give us a moment."

Dr. Kestrel pursed his lips, shook his head helplessly, and made to step out, turning briefly to nod in respect to Kyoko. The door slid closed behind him.

"Ah…This isn't the world I left, Asuka. You've…grown. A lot," Kyoko started awkwardly. "To be honest, I don't even know where to start."

Asuka's gaze softened for a moment, but then hardened as her hand twitched just a little. "Yeah. I had to grow up fast." An unspoken accusation lay under that tone.

"It's been a long time for you, I know; but for me, it's only been a long dream since you were my little girl…I don't want to embarrass you, but ah…would you give me a hug? I've missed you. Even before the contact experiment, work occupied my time far too much." Kyoko managed a small, diplomatic smile. It went without saying that she missed out on all too much and they would have a lot of catching up to do, but it was far from too late to build a new, if rather awkward, bond with her grown daughter.

Asuka clenched a delicate fist.

"Look. I don't hate you." That's never a good start. "But it took me a long time to get over what you did. I'd rather not get all touchy-feely again."

"What do you mean 'what I did'?" The heart rate on the monitor picked up speed, and Kyoko's stomach sank.

EDD Medical Ward portico, Geofront Northern Quadrant, Section C-3.

December 31, 2031; 1600 hours.

Later, Asuka wheeled Kyoko out of her room to get 'fresh air.' She sat across from her mother at a little cafe-style table at the edge of a balcony-patio overlooking the rather impressive vistas and forests of the Geofront. To the south, in the center of the vast, daylit cavern, the landmark HQ pyramid glittered, and the artificial lake nearby glistened in reflected sunlight. An odd detail: Three warships floated in it in formation. How did they even get down there? The rather brutalistic, blocky, five-storey ward loomed about two hundred feet behind them, built out of the northern wall of the Geofront. Armed guards milled about the perimeter. Further along the Geofront as it began to curve westward there was an enormous, fortified opening set in the cavern wall. Reinforced checkpoints abounded and armored vehicles streamed in and out of the gated mouth of the tunnel. A mighty elevated highway cut toward the center of the cave and, in the distance, met near the pyramid with other causeways coming from the other cardinal directions.

Asuka sat with one leg over the other and hands in her lap, facing partway away from Kyoko. She was staring off into the distance, but the faint scowl on her face showed that she wasn't really looking.

The change of scenery was still a decent way to escape the stifling climate of the room where Asuka had related such a horrific story, albeit in brutal and broad strokes, to a living soul for the first time in her life. Ironic that the audience was the perpetrator herself. From Kyoko's own gruesome 'double'-suicide and rupturing of her family to the consequent condemnation of her own daughter to the altar of EVA, to the latter's ultimate failure as a pilot even with her mother's soul in Unit-02…an entire tragedy was laid out that Kyoko never had any power to save her child from. Or, no, had she been capable of doing so, but been too negligent, too arrogant, too absorbed, to understand what was really happening at Gehirn? Acid piled up and lingered in the back of her throat. Her stomach felt empty save for dread and guilt. She stared at her hands.

"..."

"I…I'm so sor—"

"Don't. Just don't. God, I'm so sick of that word." Asuka paused, huffed, and gathered her thoughts. Kyoko felt frozen to her wheelchair, and her lungs just couldn't quite fill up enough to start a proper sentence. She looked helplessly at her daughter. "I've known for a while that we'd have to talk about this. Here's how it is, alright? I've seen enough, between sifting through the old Gehirn and NERV data, and trying to approximate your bipolar ego border, to know that it wasn't entirely you that did all of that. Or better said, your monomania did it; maybe it runs in the family, go figure."

She paused again, eyes flickering briefly to regard Kyoko.

"I'm glad that you're back, in a way. It means that I beat the nightmare, right?" Asuka's hands were tightly clenched in her lap, and her frown deepened. If her daughter was winning, it sure didn't look like it. "After all the ups and downs, I finally know I'm not worthless after all. I did this much."

"You were never worthle–"

"Save it. In the end, the raw facts speak for themselves." Her head fully snapped in Kyoko's direction.

Kyoko had no reply to that. She was thinking much the same in regard to her own guilt. She had no answer for the accusation in those eyes: 'You made me a failure.'

"I failed as a pilot. But I got my good name back with this project. My name'll be on some prestigious papers. The Evangelion Defense Department will probably give me jurisdiction over Unit-02. So. You're free now. And I can feel good about living," Asuka finished dully. Her face relaxed into something less angry—because it was colder. "...Maybe I'd been hoping that this would make it all feel better. But, you know, it's just easier this way, right?" Easier not to get close.

Long ago, Dr. Katsuragi, that crazy theorist, often rambled to Kyoko about AT Fields at Gehirn Berlin. His pseudo-mysticism and odd terminology had made the scientist in her stubbornly tune most of it out back then, but one thing did stick with her: 'We've all got one, you know. An AT Field, I mean. I've measured it, observed it. It keeps each of us together, so to speak, but I guess the tradeoff is that it keeps us all apart too.' He had told her that with intense eyes that rather frightened her.

Dr. Katsuragi's outlandish theories and penchant for quasi-occult language was far removed from the standardized technique of Kyoko's home fields, genetic sequencing and computer engineering, but perhaps the pioneer of Metaphysical Biology had been onto something. Kyoko felt an invisible repulsion between her and her daughter. A force of nature. She felt so helpless. Even if they wanted to bridge the gap, could they? Would it be worth it? It's just easier this way, right?

Kyoko cast her eyes down. There might be other chances to connect with Asuka, but right now didn't seem to be the time. A change of topic might be welcome.

"...I was wondering, when you retrieved me, who was walking away? On the gantry, I mean."

Asuka's eyebrow raised, and then furrowed into an even deeper scowl.

"Probably the other pilot I was talking about. The other failure. Invincible wimp-boy."

"His name?"

"Shinji Ikari. He's a wretch. Probably left because he was scared of seeing a woman in nothing but a towel," she smirked humorlessly.

Kyoko wasn't feeling up to upbraiding her daughter's manners, or pressing her much more, but her curiosity just wasn't sated. So that was Yui and Gendo's boy? That would make sense. He certainly had his father's build and poise, evident even from a brief glimpse from behind. Moreover, if her soul's absorption was what essentially fated Asuka to pilot 02, it stood to reason that only Yui's son could pilot 01 and would thus be associated with NERV, or this EDD. But why would he be present for Kyoko's retrieval? He and Asuka clearly didn't get along. Where was the connection?

"What was he doing at your experiment?"

"Little boy was in charge of the project, in name at least. Favoritism from the commander, most likely. He was probably whining that he couldn't be doing the same thing with Unit-01, but whatever else the Commander may be, she at least has her priorities relatively straight. Nobody should be messing with 01 like that. Least of all him," Asuka finished darkly.

"Mmm…" The best Kyoko could do was just roll with her daughter's obvious scorn. An argument just was not in the cards right now. Unless standards had truly plummeted, the management of a project interfacing with an EVA core would only be entrusted to an expert in as many relevant fields as possible: genetics, engineering (digital, hardware, and organic varieties), and even Katsuragi's damn Metaphysical Biology. Kyoko herself had been 02's foremost software engineer and genetic coder, but she lacked the credentials to oversee the whole project; that was the domain of a visionary like Naoko or Yui. Speaking of whom…"Well, I understand if you don't want to talk about that. But why me anyway? Why Unit-02 first? Yui's the better geneticist and all. She probably could have helped with your retrieval project."

"02 is easier to deal with, I guess. All I know is that the MB board agreed not to touch 01. I don't care why," Asuka replied unhelpfully. In her pocket, something buzzed repeatedly. She pulled out an odd-looking…PDA?, and quickly scanned through it. "Speak of the devil. Pussyboy himself is calling in the project leads. Aftereffects are kicking in; I need to go deal with them now." She got up. "Kestrel's probably lurking around here somewhere. Big fan of yours. Or a sycophant. Have him take you back in. If you manage not to lose your mind again, the EDD might come knocking to put you on the 02 team later," she finished curtly and turned away from the overlook.

Aftereffects?

Asuka motioned to one of the guards by the hospital walls to follow her. Without turning back, she paced away towards a parking lot down the slope from the retaining walls of the patio. With her went Kyoko's hopes to salvage even a scrap of her lost past. She sat alone, gazing out at a fortress which should have fulfilled its purpose and been decommissioned years ago, yet now bristled with more weaponry and personnel than even the anti-Angel plans had called for. What a cold world.

Kyoko sat there for another half an hour. Her mind was racing to fill in all the implications of her daughter's story. Gehirn had clearly had more issues than a lack of caution. But before she could start positing any comprehensive hypotheses on who was to blame and what their real goals were, she saw Dr. Kestrel approaching out of the corner of her eye.

"Good to see you again, Frau Doktor. I'm sorry about the younger Soryu's attitude. I hope you understand, she's been under immense stress. Nobody is quite themselves when working on projects like these," he said, tilting his head a bit and giving a pained, apologetic smile as he neared the chair where Asuka had sat. He unconsciously combed through his thinning, fading hair.

"Don't concern yourself over it, Doctor. I know that feeling all too well. I hope she'll find it in herself to forgive me for all the trouble I've caused her," Kyoko replied. That last part was a lie, but her time at Gehirn had taught her much about the value of telling little lies to oneself. "I didn't get the chance to ask her, but what did she do in this project? And what about you, for that matter? I owe all of you quite a lot, so I'd love to know all of your roles. I know what it's like to be on these teams…it's all too easy to get overlooked." She met his watery blue eyes with some sympathy.

"I've only heard legends about your expertise in sequencing and interface programming; and if they're true, your daughter takes after you," Kestrel said as he took a seat. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, hands lightly clasped together. After a moment, he decided to look out on the scenery, which was beginning to darken. Night was coming. "She designed most of the software used in the retrieval process and controlled the process personally. She has a lot of experience interfacing with 02; piloting transferred well to research after all. As for me, I was more of a consultant than a technician, I suppose. I came into Metaphysical Biology rather late and indirectly. They'd hardly trust a relative outsider like me to go poking an EVA core," he finished with a chuckle. A Metaphysical Biologist, eh? He does remind me of Dr. Katsuragi a bit. "That's mostly why she dislikes me. She hates dealing with the confusing terminology and concepts of the great MBs like Yui Ikari, much more a woman for raw numbers...but if you're going to deal with EVA, there's just no escaping that cadre."

"And tell me, how does one just slip into MB, as you apparently did?" Kyoko tried her best to quirk her lips into a little curious smile. It probably failed, but Kestrel wasn't looking.

Kestrel grinned a bit. "Heh, you'd never believe it, but when I first came here I was actually a prosthetics specialist just learning to work with NERV's technology. Demand for a middle man between theory and practice got me basically press-ganged into MB studies. The shift was easier than you'd think." He straightened his back and pulled up his arms, now resting his hands on his thighs. Asuka was correct, he seemed eager to please. He could really help Kyoko understand what was afoot. If the past was as well and truly unsalvageable as it seemed, all that remained was to survive the present.

"Interesting. As I understand it, NERV was a bit more military than my Gehirn. I suppose they first invited you to outfit disabled vets or something along those lines?" Kyoko hadn't seen any information on visiting hours, but it occurred to her that the conversation might get cut short by the imminent nighttime. She'd have to minimize pleasantries.

"In a sense. I came in early 2016 to…help the younger Ikari. I worked with him for a long time, wound up giving him personal crash courses on everything from history to chemistry. He's a…decent guy, extraordinarily bright, but if you ask me, he's maybe a bit too conscious of his parents' legacy. Obsessed with their work," Kestrel explained, suddenly and accidentally hitting upon Kyoko's main point of curiosity. He hadn't lingered on just how he was originally helping Shinji, and he started to look a bit troubled as he began his impromptu summary of this mystery man. "I just hope he doesn't take it too hard—for now, Command doesn't want to repeat the retrieval attempt with Unit-01. The Subcommander and all of the resident MBs, myself included, advised against it with the exception of one; him, I assume. Someone said that he had referred to the 02 project as a dress rehearsal."

He realized the implications of what he had just said and looked at her a bit fearfully. "I hope you don't take offense at that. We owe it to him, and it's clear to those who have eyes to see that he's eager, but it's just too risky right now on several points. Ironically, he's even the one who originally noted most of the dangers 01 in particular could present. His greatest enemy has always been himself." He sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing his face.

Now wasn't the time to ask for any technical reasons; Kyoko knew she probably wouldn't comprehend further elaborations on the front of Metaphysical Biology without some proper schooling. Here was someone with personal knowledge of the…leader of her retrieval? Object of her inquiry? She still couldn't quite explain her curiosity, but it was less depressing than thinking about Gehirn or her daughter's coolness right now.

"So you were his tutor?"

"Among other things. That wasn't my official job, but it's what I spent the most time doing. I only really started my MB studies a little before him. After a while, I think we both started learning from each other." A fond, if somewhat melancholic smile tugged at his face. "Before long, maybe by the time he was seventeen or eighteen, he was more of a Ph.D assistant than a proper student. He connected prosthetics tech and MB as disciplines even better than I did. Helped me out a hell of a lot. A visionary like his parents, I guess. But again...his goals are a bit narrow. He could be doing a lot more than he is. Spends most of his time in his quarters or his office nowadays, rather than his lab. Odd, isn't it? I think he grew to such scientific stature ultimately because he misses his mother."

"I see. And what about his fath—"

The nurse from earlier, Keiko, approached the table cautiously.

"Excuse me, Dr. Kestrel, Dr. Soryu. I really hate to interrupt, but visiting hours are ending. Why don't we see about getting you a good meal, Dr. Soryu? I'm sure we can have you up and walking in no time!" she said cheerily. It seemed that Kyoko had made a friend of sorts.

Kestrel looked somewhat embarrassed; perhaps he had shared more than he had meant to. "Thank you for letting us know, Keiko. I've got to see to some projects of my own now that my part with 02 is mostly over." He rose a bit clumsily and offered his hand to shake. "Dr. Soryu, it's been a real honor to meet you. I hope I can talk to you again. Maybe you can help me with some programming questions I've been bashing my head over?"

Kyoko shook his hand and nodded deferentially. "I'd be glad to, Dr. Kestrel. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

As he paced away, Kestrel called to her over his shoulder. "And just so you know, Frau Doktor: Command will probably want to meet with you as soon as you're rested and able to walk on your own two feet. Take it easy."

As Keiko wheeled her back to Room 105, Kyoko felt that she had much more information to work with than when she had woken up. But rather than ease her mind, this only inflamed it. It was going to be a long night.

Somewhere in Old Central Dogma

December 31, 2031; 2100 Hours

The metal door swung open forcefully, but was just as suddenly stopped before it could crash into the wall and cause a ruckus. The silhouetted figure, backlit by the harsh hallway lights, softly stepped into the dark room.

"We're unmonitored. I'm glad to see that you're well enough, all things considered."

"..."

"The years have been unkind to us both, but we might have a chance to help each other out. But I need something from you in return. I think you already know what I'm going to ask."

"..."

"I need you to explain, in your own terms, precisely how you could sync with Unit-01. No mysticism, no Kabbalah. None of the old Commander's veils."

The cheerless light creeping in from the hallway reflected off a pair of crimson irises as they coolly regarded the figure. Their owner measured her reply.

"You have read Lucretius, have you not?"

Chapter Text

Now I will relate of what matter the soul is formed,

And discuss whence the mind makes it show.

In the first, I teach that they are utterly subtle,

Built of the minutest and finest of particles.

For the nature of the soul is exceedingly mobile,

And so it must consist of matter tiny and light indeed.

For when the surest peace of oblivion has just seized a man,

And the nature of his soul and spirit are surely dead,

You do not perceive anything there freed from the body,

Not a bit of weight seems gone.

-Lucretius, De Rerum Natura

Act One, Scene Three: Intentions

The night yielded a menagerie of memories Asuka had long since sealed away.

She struggled as bright lights shined invadingly into her still-dilated pupils.

"Pilot Soryu, can you hear me? Can you understand me?"

No, no, no. She was supposed to be free. She had let it all go at last. No more EVA, no more piloting, no more impressing. No more Asuka. All of those things were the same thing; if one was gone, they were all gone. There was supposed to only be darkness now, only peace.

"Pilot Soryu?"

Instead, she found herself awakened (or rather, no longer sedated) by a waiting medical team. Where was she? Dread shot through her veins. No. No more.

They needed her to pilot again. They were under siege, they said. What? By whom? Anyway, what had they not understood from the last sync tests? Idiots. She had failed. She couldn't do it anymore. 02 wouldn't obey her, it wouldn't obey anyone. Useless useless useless. Idiot. Let her go. Can you hear me? Can you understand me?

—

Those days were a long nightmarish blur of checkups and attempted sync tests. Get in the cockpit, pilot. Focus focus focus focus focus focus focus focus. Nothing nothing. Just disgusting LCL. She sat in the cockpit wondering just where it had all gone sour. Traces of disappointment showed on the technicians' faces after each time. Wondergirl was apparently MIA or something, and Asuka couldn't be their doll either. She had no strings anymore.

Misato showed her face on occasion, but she looked worn and haggard and hardly had time for Asuka herself unless there seemed a chance she might gain back a pilot. Nothing new there. Besides, she was too busy yammering at the crowd eternally accompanying her.

In the first few days when she was being practically dragged to 02, Asuka noticed that there were some bloodstains around HQ. Everyone looked tense all the time. One day there were enormous crashes on the surface that even shook the Cranial Nerve Ward a little bit. What was happening anymore? Where was Shinji? Where was…where was…

—

Hardly anyone visited now. It had been a while since the last test she was compelled to attempt. They'd finally gotten the message. The little hospital room was lonely. She was kept under watch by faces she didn't know, didn't want to know. Sometimes she tried to lash out at the nurses or the physical therapist just in order to feel real again, but the emotions just…failed. They wouldn't come to her.

Where was he? Idiot. Can you hear me? Can you understand me?

She saw him one day. It was near the ward's physical therapy area. Quite a few people were there, many NERV employees recovering from gunshot wounds or burns. She heard that the dumb drunk had gone and overthrown the Commander after Invincible Shinji had squished the last Angel. Bit of a shocker on several accounts. Lots of people hurt down here. Whole armies' worth dead up top, apparently.

A team of orderlies and guards wheeled a gurney a little ways away from her as she sat in the large hall waiting for her appointment with the PT. The entourage looked important, and managed to spark a dull sense of curiosity as it moved by. A youngish doctor with shining blond hair led the group. He was heatedly discussing something with other technician-looking people, before slowing to walk alongside whoever was at the epicenter of their little parade. She craned her neck to see who it was. For a brief moment, he limply looked back at her. Oh God. His—

—

It was her fifteenth birthday. She passed it alone in some sort of group quarters with other children in the Geo-Front; almost an orphanage. Lives she wanted nothing to do with, and who in turn wanted nothing to do with her sullenness. They just checked on her to make sure she didn't spill her own blood or otherwise inconvenience everybody. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen someone she had known in the better days.

Long since discharged with a clean bill of physical health (but a list of psych issues a mile long), she simply existed from day to blurry day, taking her meds, absently searching for something to do, to occupy herself. Video games, magazines, wandering around, laying down doing nothing at all, whatever. There was still no school, and if there was she'd probably skip.

He was gone, not that he'd even have anything to do with a tramp like her. She no longer looked in the mirror for disgust at her unkempt and pallid appearance. But he was a hero, people said. Their savior, their champion. Everything she had ever wanted to be, handed to a brat who had only ever run away from those laurels. She would've sacrificed everything he had lost and more to be in his undeserved, unwanted position. Instead, here she was, thrown out with the trash.

Whose birthday even was it, really? Not Asuka's. Asuka was…not.

Time and solitude had now taught her thoroughly that nothing remained worth caring about. So all she had to do that day was think.

Why was she not? What had gone missing? She remembered once being such an overachiever. She got all the praise. It made her real, valuable. Maybe she had been a bit egotistical back then; but in her defense, had she been so wrong to be that way? Now there was nothing, and consequently she was not real. When did she stop getting praise? Well, it was when…

…

EVA gave it all, and EVA took it all. And it hurt more that everything was taken away than if there had never been anything at all.

Her mind sparked with rage, and for once, it finally smoldered a bit. Sitting alone in the dim, dingy little room cramped with three bunk beds, she was hunched over, glaring at the opposite wall, jaw violently clenched, rigidly clasped hands urgently and nervously working.

Yes, EVA had taken everything away, but what else was there besides EVA? If Asuka was not Asuka the Pilot, then Asuka was not, period. How dare EVA do that to her. How dare she be condemned to slavery to it. How delighted she had been when she'd been chosen as a pilot on her sixth birthday, how she had joyously raced through those halls to tell—

Her teeth pressed together so hard that they felt like they were about to crack. She had once reveled in EVA. For a long time now, yet only realizing it fully at this moment, in this horrid little room at the end of her life, she had hated it with all her being. Hated and despaired of what she was and was not.

But there was nothing more for her to do. Too late to start anew, wasn't it? She was broken; thus, she was helpless. Good as dead.

No.

The spark of rage caught in the long-dried out underbrush of her mind. She jerked upright with the sudden surge of emotion.

No, she was still smart. EVA might have broken her, molded her, ruined her for anything else. Her fate was bound to it, yes, it would forever haunt her mind. But she wasn't powerless, wasn't completely out of tricks.

She would break it in return if it was the last thing she did. She wouldn't lay down and take the pain anymore. There was nothing else, nothing at all really worth doing, so she wouldn't stop until she mastered 02 on her own terms, until she proved that she deserved the attention he still probably got, until until until

CAN YOU HEAR ME? CAN YOU UNDERSTAND ME?

JNDA Secure Residency Complex, Apartment 402A

Geo-Front South Quadrant Section A-1b

January 7, 2032; 0630 Hours

Asuka woke with a start. It was still pitch black in her room. She focused on breathing slowly and deliberately until her heart rate slowed to normal. Even re-enacted in a dream, the memory of the poison and exhilaration of that day constricted her veins and sent adrenaline pumping. It had been a long time since she'd had that kind of dream. Goddamn it. Probably brought on by recent events. She was thirty now, not some aimless, angsty brat. No more sob stories. She had work to do.

Her vision blurred painfully as she straightened up from her hard mattress. She had been so tired last night that she hadn't even taken her lab coat off. Her hard-won and precious bout of rest had been all too short, and the day ahead would be a long one. Her back still hurt from all the standing in the last week, and these days the pain lingered for longer.

She padded on bare feet across her small, austere, unpainted bedroom toward the small desk on the other side, where her work laptop was open but asleep. Tapping it on, she inserted her ID card into the reader attached to the computer, input her fingerprints, and then typed in a long, complex, and meaningless password before the laptop suffered her entry. She checked the latest logs from the observation shift that should've just ended.

/ /

JANUARY 7, 2032, 0600 HOURS

UNIT-02 TEAM C

BINDINGS ARE HOLDING. NO INDICATION OF ANY SIGNIFICANT POWER SURGES IN SUBJECT-02. FURTHER CORE INTERFACE ATTEMPTS TENTATIVELY CLEARED BY CAPTAIN IBUKI. DR. YOIZUKI TO BE CONSULTED FOR REARMAMENT AT 1200 HOURS, RECOMMENDED BY DR. IKARI; CONFIRMED BY ORDER OF COMMANDER KATSURAGI.

/ /

She groaned and rested her weary head on her hand. It was excellent that her alternative interface theories could already start being tested on 02. On the other hand, the Commander was really moving the timetable up by approving the idiot's suggestion to push that narcissistic bastard Yoizuki onto her team immediately. They were itching to outfit 02 for battle before the new piloting system had even properly begun. Probably had something to do with the security leak that had sent upper command into a frenzy; just what had gotten out back in November? Well, heads would roll in the security and intel departments if they hadn't already, but as long as it wasn't hers, she didn't care much. Yoizuki would merely be another inconvenience she would have to suffer.

Before she left her cheerless quarters and went in to deal with a borderline eldritch creation, now fresh with an animalistic grudge against humans, she would at least treat herself to a cup of godawful coffee.

JNDA Command

Geo-Front Central Sector

January 7, 2032; 0700 Hours

Kyoko had quickly regained her strength during her week in the ward. Naturally, they shipped her off to meet the Commander as soon as she could stay focused, stand, walk, and otherwise conduct herself smoothly.

The maglev train from the North Gate was mostly empty save for her security detail, who did not care to socialize. She noted that they were well equipped with body armor and automatic weapons even in the safety of their citadel. After disembarking at Central, they shepherded her through the excessively vast halls and junctures of the militarized JNDA. She had always thought the upper facility depicted in the plans looked so…empty, lonely. What madman had wanted that much cavernous space? Oh, right.

The upper floors were crowded with a busy flow of scientists, civilian technicians, and military personnel. Defense measures and checkpoints became more and more common as they advanced into the thick of what Gehirn's blueprints had dubbed Central Dogma.

Her sense of direction long since lost, she went with the flow until, after almost half an hour of walking and one silent and concerningly long elevator ride, the guards brought her to an imposing steel door ten feet tall and pneumatically shut. The hallway before it indicated that they were in Central Dogma Layer 20, deep inside the facility.

'Commander Katsuragi, EDD' was etched on a steel plaque above the large door. Kyoko had heard in the ward that Shiro's daughter had staged quite a coup against Director…no, Commander Ikari. Prevented a staged Third Impact thereby, some staff had proudly reported to her. A hero. Very impressive for a girl who had fairly recently emerged from her (very understandable) catatonia when Kyoko was last…alive, awake? What sort of woman was she really? No laze when it came to security, evidently.

One of the guards swiped his ID and spoke for a while into an intercom next to the door. It hissed open, and she was led, not into the office proper, but yet another antechamber.

This room, however, belied the whitewashed austerity and naked steel of the rest of the base. It was about thirty feet wide and fifty feet long, with an impressive fifteen-foot ceiling. All of it was paneled and burnished with a polished, heavy-grained dark wood (or imitation of it). The room was lit by lights set into the ceiling, casting rich shadows here and there with the edges of the paneling.

Maps of the world and of magnified individual countries (particularly Japan, Germany, China, Russia, and the US) lined the walls. Under them at regular intervals, secretaries' work stations, six altogether, were overflowing with paper: journals, reports, handouts. There was a low murmur throughout the room from the desks' occupants, dressed in dark suits, speaking lowly to one another or into headsets, taking down or exchanging notes, filing items away into cabinets along the wall or taking others out, and otherwise demonstrating that this place was not just any old room before the Commander's office, but a hub of real-time information. Altogether, the chamber was an odd oasis of classiness and good decorative taste—not a bad working environment by any means. A token of a gracious mistress, perhaps?

At the other end of the chamber was her destination, a large, heavy wooden door. The head of the security detail briskly led Kyoko past the busy secretaries and knocked on it. The total solidity of the sound betrayed that this entrance was far more reinforced than any mere wood. Nonetheless, it opened inward smoothly, and he gestured Kyoko inside, remaining outside himself and stepping away as it shut behind her.

The small office was something of a mess. It was designed to be the previous room in miniature, but had half as many cabinets as it should've; papers were all over the desk, on one of the two chairs facing it, and even on the floor. An ashtray was prominent on the one clear space of the large mahogany desk in the middle of the room. A woman sat bolt upright at the other side. Her hair immediately confirmed to Kyoko that it was Shiro's bubbly and then catatonic and then bubbly-again daughter, Misato Katsuragi. She looked stern in her red, fully buttoned and steel-collared trench coat and crimson hat, leaning forward a bit with arms flat on the desk, brown eyes carefully and levelly regarding Kyoko. Her whole face was prematurely lined, though it didn't seriously detract from her beauty just yet. After a measured silence, she finally spoke.

"Dr. Soryu. I'm glad to see you well. Have a seat, eh?" She suddenly came alive and gestured to the lone chair not cluttered with files and reports, offering a very slight smile.

"It's nice to see you…again, ah, Commander Katsuragi." Taking the proffered seat, cozily cushioned but armless, Kyoko laughed a little at her struggle with the unfamiliar title. "I don't know if you even remember me, but we played once in a while when your father brought you along on his trips to Berlin. But here you are, my elder now."

Misato looked away briefly at the mention of her father, but returned Kyoko's gaze, albeit a bit mournfully.

"I think I remember. Though if I recall correctly, your trick was to get me to play Hide and Seek and never come looking for me," she reminisced. "Fair enough, though. I was probably a pain in the ass."

Kyoko grimaced. She had not been the most gracious when it came to dealing with workplace distractions.

"Well, I hope that I can make it up to you somehow. I owe you and your department everything." Kyoko hunched over just a little at the end. What an understatement.

"Don't hold yourself in our debt. Getting you out of Unit-02 has been a long term goal of ours, Dr. Soryu. On the other hand, however, I have no intention of stringing you along—our position is dire and we need all the expertise we can get, if you're willing to help. That's why we took the risk and pushed the retrieval project far ahead of schedule," Misato replied, turning serious and getting down to business without further ado.

"Risk? I've met some of your researchers." A whole two of them. "They don't strike me as careless, or the sort to deal with 02 invasively without total safety assured," Kyoko replied, thrown off guard by the Commander's admission.

"02 itself wasn't the concern; Asuka has had the technical details of the retrieval process nailed down for a while. The risk was tactical. For the moment, 02 is both out of commission as well as…unstable," Misato reassured her rather unreassuringly. The Commander didn't strike Kyoko as overly informal or presumptive, yet she was on a first-name basis with Asuka? Interesting. But more interesting still was that last part.

"I don't quite take your meaning. From what Naoko and Yui taught me, an unsouled EVA is useless, but not actively dangerous." Unless by dangerous you mean liable to steal most of your soul without your permission while contact-testing the A-10 interface…which at least one of them had to have known was a possibility.

"I'm afraid the details are beyond me, but from what Dr. Ikari has explained in simpler terms, that only holds for EVAs that haven't been ensouled and fully activated. This present situation is unprecedented. Now that 02 has interacted for years with a human consciousness yet has no resident soul to shape and regulate its neural activity anymore, it has developed something of its own mind, though very primitive and weak," Misato explained to Kyoko's shock. Are those the 'aftereffects' Asuka mentioned?

And Misato saw that shock and fear, and rushed to explain. "It's not a serious threat on its own. Dr. Ikari predicted this outcome and designed proper restraints for the Unit. But again, having a truly unusable 02 is tactically concerning in our current position. My hope is that you can help with an alternative to the ensouling method so that it can be piloted without a…human sacrifice, more or less." She grimaced at the last part and looked at Kyoko apologetically.

"But for better or worse, the ensouling worked," Kyoko protested, leaning forward. "Why didn't you just keep me there?"

Misato closed her eyes and shook her head sadly, seeming to recall bitter memories. "02 hasn't actually worked in years. The only pilot compatible with your soul, and therefore your Unit, is Asuka. But for whatever reason, she hasn't been able to activate it in a very long time. Nobody else even has a chance. Dr. Ibuki and Dr. Ikari have both hypothesized that the bond between a pilot and an EVA's resident soul is conditioned not just psychologically but also metaphysically, though their alternative theory seems…complicated. But in short, we've committed to exchanging an unreliable and highly unlikely means of activation for a much more certain and controllable one…which we'd like you to help develop."

She mentioned Dr. Ikari quite often. Kyoko had heard from Keiko and other senior staff at the ward that the national heroes Misato Katsuragi and Shinji Ikari were once rather close as roommates and guardian/charge. Yet she was on more detached and formal terms with him than with Asuka?

Moreover, Kyoko had been afraid she would be asked to get back into EVA research. Her week of reflection had yielded legions of reasons to say no. She readied a rather stern glare for her opening salvo.

"Commander, with all due respect, Gehirn, or I at least, developed EVA technology as a counter against the Angels. I don't want any part in turning it against people until I know what your full intentions are."

Misato sighed and cradled her head in her hands. She suddenly looked much more vulnerable than her snappy uniform would have one believe.

"I don't like the idea of using the Evangelions any more than you do," she began. "But following the coup here and the back-to-back sieges by SEELE, the other NERV installments around the world either fell directly under their sway or staged rebellions of their own. They've since become properly national organizations like ours, though many employees of those auxiliary branches joined us during the aftermath of our coup here, hence our strong international mix. We've regained ground against SEELE, and also mopped up most of the lesser factions since then, to my everlasting infamy in many places."

Her eyes darted away to a corner as she said that, but she pressed on.

"The remnants of SEELE only hold one former branch now, your old Berlin base in fact, but altogether there are three rival organizations with EVA technology: that SEELE one, another NERV splinter in Russia, and one in the US. The last ones standing. We're all in a very tense peace at the moment, but it can and probably will break anytime, so we urgently need 02 up and working."

"Is your position really that precarious?" Kyoko asked incredulously. This truly was a desperate move, with so many variables and potential causes of failure—one of which was her set of very good reasons not to help.

"At best, our rivals are all nationalists or imperialists, hence our own defensive military posture," Misato replied. "But they might have more sinister intentions; all of them made off with powerful tech after the sieges here, and one of them probably has Adam and could do terrible things with it given time, especially if it's SEELE that has it. We can't afford to be vulnerable to any of our rivals. I don't trust any of them to rule the world, and with a tip of the scales any of them could within a matter of months; our arms race is that close. And if I learned anything from the Angel Wars and everything afterwards, it's to not trust anyone's motives except my own, ultimately."

"And what would those be?" Kyoko leaned forward and watched Misato carefully. The latter's lesson cut against herself too, after all; Kyoko could at least try to measure her honesty here and now.

Misato laid her arms back down on the desk, looked Kyoko dead in the eye, and spoke slowly and deliberately. "I want to finish off the bastards that triggered SI and got my father killed…and who probably plotted your experiment's failure, I might add. I want a world without Evangelions and this Cold War around them. I want to get some goddamn rest. I want to give Dr. Ikari some freedom for the first time in his life; I owe that and so much more to him. But I can't do any of that without using EVA myself. Otherwise I'd get the hell out of here." Does everything here lead back to Shinji Ikari one way or another?…

Kyoko relaxed back a bit and pondered her response. This was make or break. Time to offer something in return. She would lay all her cards out on the table; what did she have to lose?

"…This world is far more complicated than the one I left behind, Commander, though it seems like even back in my time I was being sabotaged. I can't ignore the horrible things that were done by my own superiors and how I benefited from them, or what my work ultimately did to my daughter. I hope you understand that I'm not eager to get back into a field where even noble intentions have been twisted to appalling ends."

She paused and waited to see if that would provoke a strong reaction or visibly disappoint Misato.

"…"

Misato still watched her carefully, seemingly untroubled by Kyoko's hesitancy. Good.

"…But if you really mean what you say, I'm willing to work for you, on the conditions of total transparency and finality. I've been deceived before, to my own and my daughter's undoing. Don't do that to me. I'm out as soon as it's even plausible that I'm not being told the whole story. And I didn't design 02 to fight and kill other people."

Kyoko's fists clenched tightly by her legs as she continued.

"Unit-02 helps wipe out the other Evangelions, and that's it. The Angels are gone; so should the Evangelions be. I see now that humanity can't be trusted with them. I can only imagine what they're really capable of in a conventional conflict. I want no part in a war of conquest or genocide built on my work." I can't afford not to have a conscience anymore.

Misato's eyes snapped open and lit up with recognition. "Of course not, Dr. Soryu. I want nothing more than an end to this hell. As soon as we've cut down the last rival Evangelions, I'll see personally to the destruction of our own. And that will be that."

There was the last clause Kyoko had been looking for; there was Katsuragi's endgame, or her claim about it. Apparently the commander already trusted her very much, if she stated such intentions so openly. Very good. But she was only the commander of the EDD, an element of the JNDA. She wasn't the supreme authority here.

"And as for your bosses in the JNDA, the Japanese National Defense Agency—I don't suppose they know that your plans are so…cosmopolitan?"

Misato smirked; Dr. Soryu was delightfully thorough. "They certainly won't like it…but they won't know until it's too late."

If the Commander was being frank, then Kyoko had little choice but to throw her lot in here. Actually, even if Misato wasn't totally honest, this was still the best place for Kyoko to press her weight on the scales in favor of her own objectives. Having an ally in the Commander was a bonus. Perhaps she could find redemption here in the end.

"We have a deal, then. I'll work on Unit-02, as long as you only use it for our agreed ends, and then destroy it when the time comes." And in the meantime, I'll be placing measures of my own in 02 in case you can't or won't hold up your end. Never again.

"Excellent. Then I'll send you to meet some of your colleagues in a little while and have you fully brought up to speed on the current situation. Welcome to the EDD." Misato reached across the desk to shake Kyoko's hand. "It's nice not to bargain with a bureaucrat for once. I think we'll work well together, Doctor…Say, would you ever care for a drink sometime?"

EDD Central Facility

Evangelion Cage 3, Central Dogma Layer 25

January 7, 2032; 1250 Hours

Kyoko arrived in the lower levels of Central Dogma armed with a facility map, a fresh JNDA ID, and for the first time since returning, a sense of purpose. The old allurement of focusing on work and not its goal, she mused. She wouldn't be fooled this time, though.

After rounding the corner toward Unit-02's cage, the enormous room quickly came into view at the hallway's end. What sort of people worked for and with her daughter? Who had been entrusted with the most powerful weapons ever created?

Before even entering the room, she saw a cluster of people on the walkway, among whom was Asuka. They looked to be in the shadow of Unit-02, though she couldn't yet make it out. But as she entered the blindingly white room, she instantly saw what Asuka had meant about aftereffects.

The cage was filled up to 02's waist in dull reddish Bakelite. Enormous chains at least half a meter thick, anchored to countless moorings on the walls and ceiling, restrained 02's arms and neck. Cables were hooked up to its core and faceplate. And as she stopped and gaped at it in shock, Kyoko saw that her old creation (she felt she could properly call it this since she was its soul for so long) was ever so slightly twitching and struggling against its bindings; ineffective, but alive. That simply shouldn't be possible. The MBs like Yui had insisted that the Evangelions inherently lacked anything more than a 'vegetative soul' (whatever that meant) and could neither be of use nor pose any threat purely on their own. That really was overturned now, it seemed.

On the gantry, Asuka noticed her mother, turned away from her current conversation and approached Kyoko. At her side followed a tallish Japanese man with jet black hair, a thin and long face, and deepset, unnerving dark brown eyes. His lab coat and dark trousers were grease-stained and unkempt. He seemed to be pestering Asuka, but she couldn't shake him off even as she neared the newcomer.

"Dr. Soryu, how many times will I need to explain it before you understand? Your expertise in conventional arms is very admirable, but your focus with 02 has to be on fluxmetal compatibility and Field direc—"

"Can it, technomancer. I'll keep your concerns in mind, but at the end of the day I'm the boots on the ground and I'll be assessing what weapon systems 02 needs in order to be battle-ready. Besides, your designs smell of bullshit. I bet you didn't even come up with them yourself. Publish a paper without all your preening and self-congratulations and I might give it a serious read."

Kyoko couldn't help but slightly admire Asuka's more creative dismissals. She got peoples' attention if nothing else.

Well, fresh day, fresh start, right? Kyoko had no illusions that her daughter would inevitably wish to reconcile with her, but they could at least get on cordial terms.

"Well well. Against all odds, I've certifiably not lost my mind, so here I am…is this your assistant or something?" Kyoko asked.

Asuka raised an eyebrow, but didn't seem up to ripping her mother a new one.

"Nah, Dr. Yoizuki is a 'weapons designer.' Mostly plays around with fancy clay for a living and gets a ton of glory for it. When he isn't bothering the EVA overseers, that is," she replied, openly scoffing at the man next to her.

"What she means, Frau Doktor, is that I specialize in Particle-Wave Matter, or PWM: the versatile substance of the Angels, which we are molding into the next generation of EVA weaponry," Dr. Yoizuki replied breezily, before ceremoniously bowing to her. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Soryu. I've had recourse to your research many a time in my career. An honor to see you face to face."

Kyoko disliked him instantly. His clothes were oily, his hair was oily, his smile-smirk was oily. She knew his type. Polite as can be, a shark underneath, but often in critical roles and nigh irreplaceable—and they knew it. A necessary evil, in short. But she'd rather not make enemies just yet.

"So, an inventor of sorts, then? That's interesting. Maybe we'll have the chance to discuss it—arming the Evangelions was a significant concern during development in my time."

Not that she was really eager to make killing machines anymore. Hopefully she'd put him and many others like him out of a job before long.

Yoizuki smiled again. "I knew I was right in taking you for a lady of good sense. I've always got time to share my theories. It's not just a matter of weapons, but even of philosophy; the death of Plato himself."

He seemed about to get carried away, but he caught himself before he could really go on a tangent. Asuka glared at him scornfully and made to cut him off, but he continued.

"Anyway, I bet someone like you could even make a real contribution to my work; credit given where due, of course. Here, I see you've got a map; why don't I jot down my office address so you can find it? It's not too far from here."

He closed in and, clicking a pen he pulled from a pocket, wrote a room number and location on the 27th Layer, not far below them, on a blank corner of Kyoko's map handout. Sometimes you've just got to indulge an egotist a bit.

"I've got to be off and see to 01's outfitting now. Some of us have work to do. Ikari, at any rate, appreciates how important my advancements are. Don't go and get crushed by your naughty little machine, Soryu!" He jauntily and rather contemptuously bade farewell to Asuka, and after bowing once more to Kyoko, left by the door she had just come in from.

Her daughter was just about fuming, but took a breath and collected herself. Skipping pleasantries (or unpleasantries) and fixing her gaze on Kyoko, she cut to the point.

"So you got cleared after all. I can't say it was my first idea, but it'll be good to have you on the team, I guess. You know 02 better than anyone else does, after all. Come on, I'll introduce you to the rest of Team A. We do most of the more…groundbreaking stuff. They're solid and respectable scientists, unlike the clowns you've unfortunately been subjected to lately."

She led Kyoko to a group of four people on the gantry. As they walked, she turned to her mother and looked at her with tired resignation.

"You probably picked up on it anyway, but don't buy Yoizuki's shit for a second. For one thing, he never shuts up. But more importantly: He's smart, but not smart enough to pioneer an entirely new field in weapons development. I wasn't joking about his plagiarism; I guarantee someone else is behind a lot of his big work. Steer clear," she practically growled out.

The pair approached Unit-02 Research Team A.

"Enough of that, though. Here's the squad. That there is Kitakami," she said, gesturing at a woman with rather glaringly pink hair, who waved politely at Kyoko. "She usually works with the intel department on navigation and detection systems, but she knows enough MB to get into the weeds of things and tune 02's sensorium and comms."

Next, she pointed at a nondescript but rather kindly-looking man with black hair and a heavy brow. "That's Hiyodori. He learned all about Evangelion muscle generation and maintenance from Subcommander Akagi and runs that whole show nowadays. Go-to guy for all things to do with ordinary tissue in 02." Hiyodori slightly bowed towards Kyoko. I'd heard that Naoko's daughter has made a name for herself. It'd be good to see her again as well.

Then Asuka gestured to a smallish young woman, quite nearly still a girl by the look of it, with paler and broader European features and brown hair. "That's my assistant, Dr. Pyria. Bright girl. Mostly she's helped me program the retrieval process, especially the neural connections, but she'll be assisting us with the development of the artificial piloting interface." Pyria inclined her head shyly but otherwise stayed quiet. A protege of sorts, it seemed.

"Finally, that's Dr. Maya Ibuki…or Captain Ibuki when she means business. She oversees all of the Evangelions, but also deals with the MAGI systems frequently."

Kyoko recognized part of that name, but mostly the face. "Ah, you were also there for my retrieval, I think. Nice to meet you properly…Captain."

Maya smiled at her warmly. "Glad to see you up and well, Mrs. Soryu! Sorry for all the confusion you must've had to sort through…"

"It's no problem at all. I appreciate your work. If I may ask, what's your particular role on 02's team?" Since Asuka didn't say, for whatever reason.

Her rather mousy features lit up. "Mostly I'm working on a proper S2 Engine for 02's core. Dr. Ikari and I have made massive strides in S2 development, so eventually we won't even need to rely on mimics of salvaged Angel ones. We're even drawing up schematics for auxiliary engines that don't need to be directly within a core structure!" She suddenly began sharing her work eagerly. Simultaneously exciting and terrifying in its implications. Sounds easily weaponizable.

"Incredibly impressive, Captain. Putting an S2 engine an already-formed core sounds like tricky business; I look forward to seeing your method." Kyoko returned Maya's enthusiasm as best she could through her consternation.

"Right, that's everyone for now," Asuka said. She glanced at her team and noted the weary postures of some of them. "Hiyodori, Kitakami, you two have been here since the early hours. Unless you've got something to wrap up, go get some rest while I get my mother oriented with the systems. Pyria and Ibuki, I'll need you to stick around for a bit longer if you can."

Kyoko smiled internally. Her daughter had her rough edges, but it seemed that she looked out for her team. That was good. Kyoko remembered trying to do the same in her time at Gehirn.

Asuka had just been introducing Kyoko to the homeostasis apparatus when some alerts from the neurological unit drew her and Pyria away for a moment, leaving her with Captain Ibuki.

Kyoko sat in front of a bank of computers reading off 02's vital signs, but she was deep in thought.

So far, nothing was unfamiliar; the approaches to regulating the Evangelion's organs and internal chemistry were now refined by decades of experience, but were still essentially the same as the systems she had once designed.

However, they hadn't yet arrived at the real issue: the piloting and A-10 interfaces. Naoko had hammered home to Kyoko back in the day that the obvious method of simply mapping the pilot's mind onto the Eva's brain was both too power consumptive and ineffective. In short, she had said that the matter was out of Kyoko's field.

Naoko's proposed solution, which she had the MB consultants for 02 implement largely without Kyoko's oversight or detailed knowledge, involved a great deal about control via 'soul' that had sounded altogether occult to the programmer. Considering she had been compelled to serve as that soul, and that almost certainly by someone else's plotting, she probably should've paid more attention. She certainly would now.

In the meantime, this business of independent S2 engines deeply troubled her. If the current world was in a Cold War, then the bottomless power of S2 engines (and not the Evangelions themselves per se) would be the nukes. She turned to Captain Ibuki, who was nearby on Kyoko's left very intently watching the readout on some component in the brain stem.

"So, Captain…You must've been with the EDD for a long time to be in your position, no?"

"That's right," she replied calmly, turning to face Kyoko. "I came on as a bridge tech back in the NERV days, actually. Dr. Ritsuko was my mentor."

Her again. There's one I'd really like to speak to.

Right. Time for a bit more examination.

"Forgive me if I'm asking too bluntly, but…why have you kept up with the work now that the Angels are gone? What do you hope the EDD will achieve?"

Maya regarded her for a few moments, suddenly looking much more serious.

"Well…For one thing, like the Commander often says, if it's not us holding the cards, it'll be somebody else who probably means worse. But I know what you mean," she replied. She suddenly grimaced. "I've seen what the Evangelions can do…especially to each other. I hope it doesn't come to open war, and I hope we can resolve things peacefully with the other old NERV bases."

Is she just naive, then?

"Do you think that in the end the world will be better off without EVA at all?"

Maya looked thoughtful now, taking the question seriously. Hmm. At least she doesn't seem malicious or selfish.

"I think of it kind of like nuclear technology. It caused a lot of scares and can do terrible things. But like the S2 technology I'm designing, it can be put to great use, too. A final solution to all energy problems, to a lot of our material problems. The key to exploration in the future. I think if we give it our all to come out on top, then the commander will make sure we can turn our tech to those good uses and make sure nobody ever builds weapons with S2s. You can ask Kitakami more about it, but we're close to having systems that can identify and track most EVA-derived tech around the world. Even if it comes to bloodshed…I believe we can win and keep the peace afterwards. I believe in our Commander, and in Asuka and Dr. Ikari…and in you," she finished with a shy smile. When Kyoko nodded and allowed the conversation to lapse into polite silence, Maya turned back to her readouts.

Noble intentions. But they're all too easily misdirected. Either the commander or I myself will see to it that they won't be. It'll be hard to crush Maya's hopes, and the hopes of optimists like her…but people just can't be trusted with this. We have to take it out of humanity's hands forever.

After all, as long as EVA persisted, how would any of them find real peace?

? ? ?

December 5, 2016; 2000 Hours

Kozo Fuyutski sat over a cup of tea and reminisced in his small room.

Things had not turned out badly altogether this past year. When the coup began, he finally found the courage to listen to his conscience and side against Gendo. It broke his heart that he'd never get to see his prize student again as a result, but he had understood from the beginning that it had been a petty justification for such atrocities. He mostly just didn't want to die for foolishly calling Gendo's bluff back in the day.

Major…no, Commander Katsuragi had been far more accommodating and respectful to him than he deserved. As if helping to avert his planned catastrophe at the last minute absolved him of anything. But nonetheless, here he was, not staring down the barrel of a gun but living in reasonable, if austere, house arrest for the (probably short) remainder of his life. He would die with many, many regrets, but his last decision as Subcommander was, all in all, not a bad one. He would gladly help the new Commander however he could out of gratitude for the extra time to reflect and repent, however imperfectly.

A knock at the door to his little apartment pulled him out of his reverie.

"Coming, coming," he called out as he grasped his cane and pushed his stiff joints to cooperate on the short journey. He gently opened the door.

His heart nearly gave out upon seeing who was on the other side. Of all the people in the world, he had least expected to meet one of the Children again. It was one of the sorriest sights he'd ever witnessed in his long life.

He gaped, at a loss for words, but his visitor simply stared back at him…maybe a little south of sanity, among other things. He backed up and attempted a welcoming gesture, and his guest shambled inside toward the table. At length, Kozo found his voice again.

"Wha—ah, what can I…do for you?"

A long, hesitating pause.

"You knew my mother." Mostly a statement, with a hint of a question.

"I did, yes…"

"Could you…teach me about…her work?"

Chapter Text

Wisdom of the Ancient Ones:

Nuclei hurtle in the chaos of the abyss,

Ungoverned by mind or design or law,

Islands in eternal silence and endless space.

—

Atoms converge as a life in the womb.

Unique arrangement, wonder of order,

A miracle, but there are no miracles:

Species instance one quadrillion two billion

Fifty-six million two hundred and twelve thousand

Six hundred and thirty three.

It looks out upon the world it enters,

Yet does not see the holes in itself,

More nothing inside than something.

—

Atoms converge as a soul in the void.

It wakes and looks back at the dark of its birth.

Primordial soup attains to thought,

And masters the gaps in its parts.

-Rei Ayanami

Act One, Scene Four: History

Central Dogma, Layer 65

June 10, 2017; 0800 Hours

Subcommander Ritsuko Akagi waited as the pneumatic seals to the door of the 'holding suite' hissed open and permitted her entry. She left her guards in the antechamber and stepped inside.

The main thing about this place was its strategic location: nestled deep underground but before Terminal Dogma's special security barriers and alarms, and well within her and Katsuragi's very limited and tenuous sphere of control in the early days. They didn't want a repeat of the…incident…with Gendo that happened right under their noses during the First Siege chaos. Who knows what might've happened if they hadn't posted troops at Heaven's Door that very day?

Still, they had lost Adam because of that security breach. In light of the priority of control, comforts and luxuries were far and away secondary here. It showed.

The suite was little more than a set of three small, low rooms and a lavatory. She stepped into the first and largest of the rooms, in the middle of which was a simple wooden table and two blocky chairs. In the far left corner was a bed for medical checkups, and next to it one standing lamp. It was the only light, since the overhead bulb was still shattered from last week…it was hard to get proper maintenance these days. Kept on a low setting, the lamp only dimly illuminated about half of the room.

The ceiling was low, hardly seven feet high. The walls, though sound and reinforced on their outer perimeter, were cracked and peeling on the inside and showed early signs of water damage. The cement floor was clean-swept but brutal. Two doorways, one on the left wall and one opposite the entrance, were pitch black. The air was somehow stuffy and cold at the same time. It was dead silent and eerie.

Ritsuko approached the table and called out into the gloom.

"Alright. I've come for your checkup. Bloodwork this time, as usual. Med restock, too." As she spoke, she suddenly felt like her voice should be echoing, but instead it sounded muffled even to herself.

After a few heartbeats, Ritsuko heard shuffling from the doorway to her left, near the medical bed. A figure slowly appeared and stopped just before the threshold, barely visible. The light cast onto it became dimmer as it traveled higher, as if being consumed bit by bit. Delicate feet clad in discolored stockings; faded blue skirt and stained, off-white shirt with the cuffs undone. Above the midriff area, the fading light didn't reveal much more than the thin frame of the shoulders and head. Some stray locks of blue hair were dimly lit as they poked out into the room. The paltry lamplight, otherwise thoroughly defeated at this point, still reflected brightly off a pair of eyes, like a cat's.

One very pale and starved arm snaked in front of the doorframe and the bony hand clutched onto it for support, but the figure did not otherwise move.

Ritsuko felt a twin surge of disgust and schadenfreude at the thing's pathetic state, at the delicious fittingness of it considering the Bastard's own fall, but she stamped both feelings down. In their current position, old grudges could not be held or indulged any longer. She had work to do. Or so she told herself.

"…"

"Rei. Come, please. It's a wonder I can be here at all. We can barely maintain the Komagadake Defensive Line. I need to get back to Command ASAP."

Rei made no motion to come into the room.

"I wish to leave for a walk."

Ritsuko sighed. "Rei, we can't risk having you out. At all costs, you cannot merge with Lilith. I'm not trying to accuse you of anything. But until we can fully trust our security…"

"I wish to be left alone."

It was like dealing with a petulant child, except that it was not the whining tone of a brat but the haunting tenor of a soft, almost alien voice monotonously listing demands.

Ritsuko could imagine the words being spoken with the same infinite patience to absolute nothingness, to the void at the end of time. Her being here to heed them was incidental. She shivered a bit. Disgust was turning to unease.

"No, Rei. I'm responsible for keeping your form stable." As well as the other suppressing measures. Misato was too compassionate to just let the little monster crumble outright, so it had to be maintained. A hard task: ever since being brought so close to Lilith, it was still on the cusp of collapse. At the same time, Ritsuko had to keep the monster's divinity tamped down as usual.

Although she herself felt no compassion for the thing, there were other, more pragmatic reasons to keep it stable.

"Besides, you need at least some human interaction, even if it's just me for now. But things will get better soon," Ritsuko continued.

"I wish to see my brother."

Ritsuko's skin crawled. Unease became dread. She really, really, really did not want those two to meet or interact. Misato had repeatedly asked her why she wouldn't allow it. It had practically been Shinji's only request since he had learned more about the thing's origins and relation to him, presumably from Fuyutsuki, last winter. It was even the only thing he had asked for on his most recent birthday. Ritsuko could never provide an entirely rational answer for denying it. This deeply irritated both herself and the Commander. Such impulsiveness and intuition was Misato's proper domain, not her own. One more strain on their already fraught friendship.

A visit was safe by all accounts. One sibling was a broken and very withdrawn young man stuck maintaining their Defensive Lines or else…recuperating, in a few senses. The other was hardly more than a semi-divine, possibly schizophrenic puppet barely clinging to life. It couldn't actually hurt. It would probably help them both greatly.

But Ritsuko's gut turned whenever she imagined those two ruined children sitting at that table under her watch…and then turning to stare at her. Rei hid in shadows, but Shinji seemed to weave them, the room suddenly filling with inky darkness obscuring all means of protection or escape the ceiling was seven feet six feet five feet, too short too short and she could not find the door and pale and slim yet terribly strong hands were crushing her neck and now she was staring helplessly into those horrible red eyes and that eye—

It was all in Ritsuko's head, the product of enormous stress and years of pent-up guilt addling her mind, but still…Unbearable. No. No. No. She swallowed back a surge of bile. Maybe she needed a prescription or two herself.

"…He's still busy these days, Rei. On a little recovery leave right now. Maybe ask in a few months. Now come to the bed, I'll…start with your blood pressure."

"I wish to have more books."

Alright, fine. If granting one request to it would get this appointment going, this was a reasonable choice. God, just get this over with now now now.

"You know what, sure. What do you want?" Ritsuko sighed and pulled out a small pad to write on. It trembled slightly; her hand was a bit unsteady.

"I wish to have philosophy."

"Of what kind? Era? Topic?"

Rei considered that for a moment.

"The beginning. The first."

"…So what, some epic poetry or Presocratic nonsense?"

"Yes. The 'nonsense' will suffice." It sounded appeased by their forming contract. Ritsuko began to relax a little.

"Fine. I'll find a collection of fragments to get you started, I guess. Now come on, let's get on with the checkup, shall we? Have you been able to manage the shooting pains?"

…

"I am crumbling."

Second Siege Memorial Park

Tokyo-3 Northern Quadrant, Block 9-H

January 25, 2032; 1330 Hours

Kyoko was troubled.

She certainly wasn't irked by this surprising oasis of natural beauty so close to the core of Tokyo-03. Its mighty retractable skyscrapers and defensive bastions towered around her. Apparently the city had once been in ruins. It didn't look like that any longer. It was positively bustling with vehicles and pedestrians alike. It looked more alive and fortified than even Gehirn's original designs.

She sat on a bench atop a steeply-sloped hillock overlooking the expanse of groves and pathways occupying about one city block. Tokyo-3's warmth, a little subdued by the season, enveloped her pleasantly.

Below her, at the foot of the hill where several walking paths intersected, a large monolithic obelisk commemorated those who fell in the Second Siege of the Geofront in the spring of 2016. There were many, many names on it.

She had heard that the back-to-back sieges were both the opening round of the Splinter Wars and among their deadliest battles. But now the ominous memory was draped in the beauty of its surroundings: a city and country won back by NERV's victory and rebuilt better than before. Perhaps not every sacrifice had been in vain.

All in all, the scenery was quite peaceful. Asuka had shown it to her a couple weeks ago. It had quickly become Kyoko's habit to come here and unwind for a bit every day. Neither quite knew what to say to the other still, and they still avoided any personal topics; the AT Field was ever repelling underneath. But for now, they at least got along professionally.

Nor was Kyoko troubled by her work per se. The progress on the overhauled neural mapping program was going smoothly. Years of data had been treasured up thanks to the Angel War and then Unit-01's sorties throughout the Splinter Wars, the cataclysmic, decade-long internal strife between NERV Central, SEELE, and other former NERV branches.

Subjectively, only a month had passed since Kyoko had gone into 02 to gather precisely that kind of data, and now she sat atop hoards of it. Her successors working on 02 hadn't made much use of it until Asuka came along a few years ago and started properly evaluating and learning from the treasury of information, even exceeding Kyoko's designs in several areas. Now great improvements to the Third Stage Connection were on the horizon. No problems there.

She was a bit troubled by the abysmal quality of the coffee she had taken from the JNDA cafeteria before going on her walk, but that was transient and best resolved by just downing the damn cup. Bottom's up.

…

Ugh. One problem less.

No, the issue wasn't what she was doing at work so much as what she wasn't doing. Kyoko knew that their current work wouldn't make 02 move. Naoko Akagi had proved with Unit-00 that neural mapping was necessary but not sufficient. She had spoken of excessive power demands and mental overload to either the pilot or the Eva. Asuka's theories and advancements over Kyoko's own work were very promising and showed how daughter had surpassed mother in many ways, but they didn't fundamentally differ from the original neural systems.

Naoko had been the undisputed queen of all things neuroscience in her time, her crowning jewel the MAGI project. She had sent MBs to wrap up 02's piloting system, and Kyoko, trusting the visionary's authority, had simply lived and let live after that. The MBs kept talking about 'soul' and she stopped listening to their gobbledygook.

Considering that whatever they had done had gotten her mind torn apart and imprisoned, very likely under Naoko's direction by the way, Kyoko was feeling more inclined to figure out what would make Unit-02 tick this time around. So she had spent a week poring over all the core- and brain-related schematics of the project to find the true key to the new piloting interface.

Nothing. There was nothing essentially new to their approach. She recognized all of the elements and saw many she had designed herself, still unchanged to this day.

Nothing new except for one piece she had isolated a few days ago right atop the arterial LCL ports of the core complex, simply labeled 'ADNAE.' It had to be the difference, or else the EDD was quite simply hiding something. They were already doing that in a way: Kyoko couldn't find out what the hell it did.

There were no details in the schematics database, nobody on the research teams seemed to know much about it, nobody even seemed too concerned. Well, Asuka was pissed, but that was mostly because she hadn't been given full jurisdiction over 02. That she couldn't get the details on this mystery component just became another element on her list of complaints to Captain Ibuki, the direct overseer of the Evangelions. She wasn't getting the point.

Kyoko had been complacent last time because she was told the completion of the project was a bit out of her field. And then whatever they had snuck into 02 destroyed her and her daughter's lives. That couldn't be undone. But this time, now given an undeserved second chance, she would protect Asuka with everything she had.

She needed to find out what the ADNAE was. But who to ask?…Hiyodori and Kitakami had no clue either. Ibuki spent most of her time in her private lab or, Asuka informed her, working on Units 13-15…the existence of which Kyoko hadn't even been aware of.

Asuka had told her, with a scowl, that these newer Evas in the JNDA's arsenal were made from the rarely viable Lilith samples or, in Unit-13's case, salvaged from one of the nine Evas that had been defeated in the First Siege. She also complained extensively about these Units' inferior capabilities even compared to the 'dumb old Test-Type', as well as their constant need for upkeep, which drew Ibuki away. None of this helped Kyoko's unofficial investigation except to confirm that another source of information was busy for now. She had no decisive reason to inquire further except for her personal curiosity and convictions, which wouldn't get her anywhere in official channels.

So she didn't quite know where to look, and had little to go off of. All she had were printouts, screenshots of the ADNAE diagrammed among the other core components, and its place in the parts manifest, oddly enough with the LCL regulatory system. It was hard to find someone to ask. Collegiality at the EDD was much stiffer, vaguer, and more compartmentalized than at Gehirn. Many researchers seemed tense and tight-lipped.

…

But maybe Kyoko's enlightenment was now approaching in the form of one very middle-aged Dr. Edwin Kestrel walking down the path in front of her. Her biggest fan, by the testimony of her daughter. Unusual for an MB to be that taken by her entirely cerebral (in several senses of the word) work, but it was always good to have someone sort of on your side. Actually, he might know more than me about this ADNAE.

He had dropped by 02's cage a few times to say hello to Team A, much to Asuka's irritation (which, if anything, seemed to amuse him). In spite of first impressions, and her constant jabs when he visited, her daughter did actually seem to respect him deep down. When he spoke seriously, she listened carefully, if begrudgingly. Kyoko reckoned him a kind and thoughtful man, if a bit absentminded.

He hadn't come by since Kyoko had isolated the ADNAE a couple days ago, and so she hadn't had the chance to question him yet. This would be good.

"Good afternoon, Frau Doktor! I was hoping to find you here." Well, how convenient. I was hoping to find some answers, and you might just have them…

"Oh, seeking me out, Kestrel? I don't know if that'll float," Kyoko replied with a little smirk. "You know how workplace relationships can sink a ship."

Kestrel chuckled at her joke and crossed his arms.

"No, no. Not like that, of course. I couldn't do that to my poor wife anyway." Then he suddenly sobered a bit. "Actually, I'm meeting with Subcommander Akagi at 1415 and thought I might bring you along for an introduction. She seemed interested in talking to you. Your daughter said I might find you here. Sorry for the short notice." Well, today really is my lucky day.

"Oh! I've been wanting to meet Ritsuko for a while now. It's been forever since I last saw her, even from my perspective. Sounds fine to me. But, yes, you've left it to the last minute, as usual…we'd better hop to it. You're lucky I'm not on the clock."

Checking her watch (now reading 13:45), Kyoko got up, dropped her empty cup in a nearby trash can, and dusted herself off. Kestrel turned and motioned with his chin toward the western exit of the park, where the closest Geofront access was located.

After they exchanged some more pleasantries and Kestrel politely asked after her progress with 02, Kyoko decided to start her inquiry. The Geofront access was now in sight; she could see a Security department patrol stationed at the gates.

"Speaking of Unit-02, I was hoping to ask you a few questions about one of its parts." They were now leaving the park and about to cross at a busy intersection.

"Well, my promise still stands—I'm happy to help." They were cutting perpendicularly across the flow of foot traffic, thankfully without incident.

"I've been examining a component that I can't figure out. Perhaps you know something about it?" She handed her printouts to him.

Kestrel took one look at them and immediately folded the bundle under his arm to hide it from view. He looked much more on guard now, focusing on getting into the Geofront and away from the crowds. Taken aback, Kyoko simply followed along. They swiped their cards, input their fingerprints, and once inside crossed over to the elevator bank.

When they were alone in the elevator and going down to Layer 20, where the subcommander had her office near Katsuragi's, Kestrel spoke up again.

"Sorry about that. Discretion is hardcoded into me," he shrugged apologetically. "As far as I know this isn't anything too dangerous, but better safe than sorry these days. Especially after the security breach last November. Lots of concern in the air about classified research leaking." I've heard about this a lot now. What are they worried has gotten out?

He unfolded the papers, looked at the schematic Kyoko had circled in the diagram, and nodded.

"I've been looking into this piece myself, actually. I assume you noted it because it's the only truly new factor at all related to the piloting system. I thought the same and started looking," he said. The elevator display pinged to Layer 10. So he's a sharp scrutinizer too. But not trying to trick me, perhaps? Good to have an MB you can trust.

"I haven't been able to find much, not even with my Board clearance," he continued. "But maybe a little more than you can find in the declassified database. Nothing on how it works, but I could see who uploaded it. Subcommander Akagi was the publisher, with Dr. Ikari listed as an editor. It also cited the research of Dr. Kozo Fuyutsuki, whom you may have known; though he's long since dead. That's all the personnel listed." Ah, Fuyutsuki. Eldest of the MBs, and an enigma like all of them. Kestrel rather reminds me of him, actually.

"Hmmm…But in that case, why go poking so indirectly? I thought you knew Ikari well."

Kestrel shook his head sadly. "I do, and we still keep in touch occasionally. He's a good soul. But…" he trailed off, now staring off at a corner in consternation. Something was weighing on him now. "Well, he's always been his own man since I've met him, and very…reticent. Focused. But nowadays he's like how I've heard his father was. Utterly unapproachable if he doesn't want you to approach. He's withdrawn heavily these past few years." The ride continued in silence.

Remarkably mature, if you'd truly reckon him a man from age…what, 15? But, like Asuka said, they had to grow up fast. My fault in the end, no? Yours and mine, Yui Ikari.

Another thought occurred to her. Yet another project the younger Ikari apparently has a hand in. What field isn't he involved in? What is he trying to get out of all this work, if Kestrel is right that he just wants to retrieve Yui? Proving himself?

It felt more and more imperative that she find this man at last.

The elevator dinged Layer 20, and the doors opened. Kestrel led her into a long hallway. At the end, perhaps 500 feet ahead, there was a set of double doors flanked by heavily armored and visored guards; probably the Subcommander's office. That was a surprisingly straightforward trip, though Kyoko on her own probably wouldn't have found that particular elevator bank. She checked her watch. 14:10. Perfect.

"Did the citations hint about what this ADNAE does?" Kyoko asked about halfway down the hall, picking at another thread.

"The works mentioned were Fuyutsuki's groundbreaking papers on gene splicing; though, they were classified even in the EDD until fairly recently, so perhaps you don't know them. They focused on Lilith and the Ayanami project. I don't see how they would affect 02. Dead end for me." Splicing—a bit out of my wheelhouse, but maybe not incomprehensible. If, that is, the ADNAE actually involves that in any appreciable amount.

That left one avenue to pursue.

"Would it be worth asking the Subcommander, then?"

Kestrel winced. "You'll see for yourself in a moment, but she's also…inaccessible, in her own way. And crushingly busy all the time. Her career has been…rough on her." Seeing Kyoko's hopes flag, he tried to reassure her. "But I know for a fact that she used to read your programming textbooks almost religiously. You could at least make her acquaintance and a good impression and then see where that gets you."

Then that would be her course.

Meanwhile,

Commander Katsuragi's office.

For the first time in a while, Misato found herself with a spare moment to clean up this disaster of a room. She was doubly encouraged by finding a bottle of scotch buried under an avalanche of papers in the corner. Some lowlife diplomat had offered it to her last year and she'd totally forgotten about it for months. Who knew what other treasures she'd find here? Not that I can afford to drink much nowadays, but hey…we've all gotta live a little.

And it helped her forget, sometimes.

A knock on the door rang out as she admired her latest find. She straightened up and discreetly placed the bottle in an open drawer. "Come in," she called out.

A pink-haired woman stepped into the room and saluted crisply.

"Ah, Dr. Kitakami. At ease. An update from intel? What's the situation?"

Kitakami relaxed and, striding forward, laid a printed report on the desk.

"We've received confirmation from Wolf network that the RF has pulled back the False Lance from its outpost near the Himalayan DMZ. That's the third independent report since yesterday, and from our most trustworthy source so far."

Misato took up the papers and glanced at them thoughtfully. The grammar was a little stilted due to the absurd encryption and decryption process, but still clear enough. The MAGI systems around the world got more and more clever, but they still couldn't match the original's complexity with Akagi always fine-tuning them.

"In your opinion, Doctor, how many independent verifications until it's beyond doubt?"

"I'd say if four or five of the seven spy networks completely concur, it's a foregone conclusion."

"I see…Is there any way of gauging the RF's intentions and knowledge besides the basic fact of the Lance being moved?"

Kitakami nodded. "Snake and Fox networks also reported that it looked to be en route to the RFED research facility in Siberia. If our agents posted nearby confirm it soon, then it's a very high probability that they intend to start experimenting with their Lances."

Misato gritted her teeth and surveyed a map of the Russian territory near her computer. The Eva-empowered country had overrun nearly the whole of the Eurasian steppes during the Splinter Wars. Before the peace treaty, it had finished by swallowing up or indirectly acquiring land as far as the Tibetan Plateau, where it now bordered the JNDA-aligned countries south of the Himalayas and the remnants of China to the east. It was the most immediate threat to the JNDA, and to Misato's dream. It was also a crucial counterbalance to SEELE in Europe.

"…After all this time, there can only be one reason the Russians would mess around with the Lances now. It's too coincidental," Misato concluded.

She glanced at Kitakami.

"Start drawing up a concise summary of the security breach of last November and its potential impact. We may need to have a little interdepartmental meeting soon."

"Yes ma'am."

"Also. Status update on the new satellite array systems?"

Kitakami whipped out a tablet from her satchel and scrolled through it. "The software is done. I've already finished the radioisotopic tracing system and the Universal Blood Pattern Scanner. But it'll be…another two months before Ops is ready to actually launch the satellites," she finished.

Misato pursed her lips. "Tell them to make it six weeks. Dismissed. Thank you, Doctor." She nodded to her subordinate.

Kitakami saluted and stepped out, leaving Misato alone once more, with none but her thoughts for company.

Ah, if you could see me now, all these years later, would you be happy for me? Would you be glad that I made use of your last gift, the work that you chose over me?

…

Have I ever been truly glad that I did?

That scotch was sounding nice…

—

As Kitakami left the office and antechamber, she scowled deeply and balled her fists. How she loathed the Commander. But Kitakami was nothing if not patient.

Subcommander Akagi's Office

Central Dogma Layer 20

January 25, 2032; 1418 Hours

Kyoko felt uneasy.

The small room was far more spartan than the Commander's office. Cold white plaster and tiling, plain metal desk. The plain oak bookshelves were nice, if a little out of place. She saw her own textbooks next to some other programming manuals. They were a desperate bid to raise funds back in the day, but it was good that someone found them useful.

"…"

Kestrel was shuffling through some papers he had brought, forming a response to a question from the Subcommander, who did not offer conversation in the meantime.

Ritsuko Akagi looked…worn. She should've been in her mid forties by Kyoko's reckoning. She looked more like 50. Her blonde hair (dyed, probably. Kyoko vaguely recalled her having her mother's hair color) looked rather thin and strawlike, her features drawn and tight. Her face wasn't wrinkled per se, but her countenance was stern and set. Eye bags and shadows abounded. But her eyes themselves were as sharp and intensely green as Naoko's, and emphasized by the mole near her left eye. That brightness was somewhat mulled by her sharp, gray military tunic. An unusual fit for a distinguished scientist, but these were unusual times.

Ritsuko made no attempt to engage in small talk yet, and had only given Kyoko a polite greeting before getting down to business. She was currently engaged in patiently staring at Kestrel.

He cleared his throat as he finally found his place in the papers. "Right. The summary of our report is this: drawing from the psychographic baseline of Unit-02's neural patterns, no longer restrained by…ah, Dr. Soryu's soul, we've concluded that all of our Evangelion units have the inherent potential to gain some minor and negligible form of sentience if the core is 'de-souled.'"

I suppose this is referring to the fact that 02 is constantly trying to break out of its restraints. To do what, I wonder.

"However, Unit-01's corresponding measurements in the psychograph are extreme. It may be capable of actually constituting a semi- or fully rational ego border and consciousness if unrestrained by a resident soul. This poses an enormous threat when combined with its organic S2 Engine, still the most powerful in the world. So I…confirm my recommendation to not conduct a retrieval attempt, against the request of…Dr. Ikari," Kestrel finished, looking more and more beat down and reluctant as he went.

Ritsuko regarded him for a long moment before nodding sharply and scribbling something down on a form. "As expected, Dr. Kestrel. Thank you for your diligence." That's it?

The Subcommander turned to Kyoko and gave her a deferential nod. "Mrs. Soryu. Nice to see you in the flesh. Your daughter did a knock-out job pinning down your ego border; even I was impressed by her method. She honed it for years."

Kyoko offered a slight smile. "Frankly, Subcommander, all of these psychological and metaphysical terms never fail to confuse me. But I'm glad to be back nonetheless, and I'm proud of her work." Your polite inquiry became an evaluation of my daughter very quickly, Subcommander.

"Indeed. It became common practice after your time to have all our techs and scientists learn at least a bit of MB lingo. It's more or less necessary for working on the Evas effectively." So it seems. Though if Asuka's any indication, they probably don't all enjoy the jargon.

This was turning into more of a fencing match than a conversation. Ritsuko had Naoko's knack for double meanings and implications.

"I rather wish I'd learned some myself. I didn't even know I had a 'soul' until it got stolen from me. Very disconcerting." And very possibly intentional. Are you people aware of that, Subcommander?

Kestrel was starting to look a bit nervous at her side. Maybe it was time to defuse the situation a little.

Kyoko cleared her throat and gestured to the shelf. "If I'm not mistaken, those are textbooks I made back in the day. I'm glad you got some use out of them."

Ritsuko nodded and looked back at them. "Excellent primers. I've lent them out frequently to beginners; as a matter of fact, when our pilots decided to turn scientists, they both worked through your books on programming and sequencing." Oh? Asuka didn't mention that. I also didn't know you were close enough to lend both of them books.

…Primers, huh? I wrote those for Ph.D students.

"You were acquainted with them?"

"Yes. I oversaw their tests and sorties during the Angel Wars. Less so Asuka, and…not much at all in the aftermath." Her expression clouded a bit as she said that. "But when she was taking up studies in genetics we talked occasionally."

She briefly paused as if to recollect something.

"Ikari, on the other hand, pestered me constantly for reading, especially from your Gehirn cadre of scientists and researchers. You, Dr. Fuyutsuki, Dr. Katsuragi, my mother, his parents, you name it. Even during the height of the Splinter Wars he kept asking. Kept his mind afloat, I guess. He lost his one good teacher when Fuyutsuki finally bit it, so all he had to learn from for a while was books." Fuyutsuki was his teacher, eh? Interesting.

She glanced wryly at Kestrel. "At one point, he checked out just about all the Ancient Greek philosophy in my library for lack of better instruction."

Off to the side, Kestrel's expression had darkened when she touched on Ikari's life during the wars. He was surprisingly unoffended by the insinuated jab at his own teaching capacities, and merely glanced at his watch. Is it hard for him to hear bad things about Ikari?

"But he couldn't have been more than a teenager, and an active pilot too. All of that's a tall order even for a bright kid with nothing else to do," Kyoko protested.

"Don't discredit the power of obsession, Mrs. Soryu. He lived and breathed for his reading and nothing else, whatever people may try to feed you about his alleged noble and self-sacrificial attitude."

Kestrel finally spoke up. "Subcommander, if it's not too much trouble, I've got another meeting at 1445. May I be dismissed?"

"Of course, Edwin. Good work." She nodded, and then waved him off when he made to salute. He quickly stepped out after shooting Kyoko an apologetic and very sorrowful glance. The atmosphere of the room shifted now that there was no third party to observe.

Ritsuko's eyes locked back onto Kyoko. "Let me guess: Edwin has given you his spiel that Ikari just wants to get his mother out of Unit-01 or something?"

"He has. Seeing as how you just shot down his request to do exactly that, it seems a pretty reasonable theory. But how would I know? I've yet to even see him face to face," Kyoko replied, now much more guarded. The Subcommander, in contrast, was being markedly more direct.

Ritsuko chuckled. "It explains some things, but not everything. I won't pretend as if I understand him. But I can tell you this much for certain, Mrs. Soryu: No Ikari is able to care about anyone…at least not anyone nearby and living. I can't stand it when people try to pretend otherwise. And they do…they do," she finished bitterly, sinking into thought. She seems to have a…history with them.

"So why does he work so hard? From what little I know, he's a recluse. Not a showoff like Yoizuki. What's he after, then?" Kyoko asked. This was a fresh perspective, however distorted it might or might not be.

Ritsuko shrugged apathetically. "Again, I don't pretend to know. Maybe he just wants to outdo absentee Mom and mean old Dad. I could understand that. I myself frequently feel the urge to go to Gendo's prison cell and mock him mercilessly, and I know his son visits him sometimes…probably to do just that." She smirked at the thought. "I don't care much. As far as I'm concerned, he produces results nobody else can, and I'm satisfied with that." Damn, she really does have a history. It takes a lot of resentment to make someone want to talk about that to effectively a stranger…

Was it time to bite the bullet? Kyoko had no desire to fence around with this woman any further or hear her rants. She was as smart as her mother, no doubt, but she was bitter too. Not a good combination, malice and the means to act on it. Kyoko understood what Kestrel meant by inaccessible: Ritsuko was not evasive, but opaque; or else, there was nothing good to see under there as far as she could tell.

Screw it. The worst that could happen was a flat denial and a boot back to square one.

She put her printouts of the ADNAE on Akagi's desk.

"Speaking of results, I want to know what this is. I heard you and Dr. Ikari designed it."

Ritsuko raised an eyebrow. She seemed slightly impressed by Kyoko's bluntness, and coolly examined the papers.

"Hmmm…considering your access level, Edwin must've been the one to spill about the authors. He's always been a bit freewheeling."

She put the papers down, laced her fingers together on the desk, and leaned forward, almost looking down on Kyoko.

"I did indeed design this, with consultation from Ikari since he was personally familiar with several of the underlying elements. But frankly, Mrs. Soryu, I think this component is out of your field, and I don't have the time or inclination to explain it to you in detail." What a familiar deflection. Does it run in your blood?

A pager buzzed at her side. She glanced at it but continued. "I've got another meeting shortly. I'm all over the Geofront all the time, from topside to the…lower levels," she said, almost muttering the last bit. Her brow twitched just a little bit, too, and her eyes darted to a darkened corner of the room. Her cool facade cracked momentarily, but she quickly collected herself again to continue. Odd.

"…But since you seem so eager to meet Ikari anyway, maybe you can ask him about the ADNAE while you're at it; two birds with one stone." What the hell. This must be a joke.

Kyoko looked at her blankly. "The only thing I know about him for sure is that he's impossible to find. I've been trying for weeks. He has no office hours, doesn't consult with anybody, and nobody I've asked seems to see him around regularly. In fact, I can't even locate his office or lab, or get his email address; all classified. How am I supposed to ask him?"

Ritsuko chuckled a bit. "Yes, he's the world's leading expert in running away. Even I'm not usually privy to his whereabouts these days. Makes for amusing rumors—your daughter loves to say that he's just afraid of people, or of everything in general. Ironic coming from such an insecure girl." Alright, to hell with you.

"But gossip aside, I think I know when he'll show his face next," she said, reaching under the desk and bringing out a tablet with a schedule lit up on the display. She thumbed through it for a few moments before holding it up to eye level to read off of.

"1500 hours on Saturday, January 31st: PWM manipulation experiment with Unit-01, directed by Dr. Yoizuki. Ikari is likely to be there, probably towards the end. It's his weapon, after all. Why not stop by then and try your luck? Besides, seeing fluxmetal at work is quite the treat on its own." This woman is quite simply messing with me…But that's all I'm going to get.

The Subcommander put down her tablet, checked the pager, which had just buzzed again, and rose from her seat. "In the meantime, Dr. Soryu, I have to go meet with the Commander. Best of luck with 02; be sure it doesn't bite you." She gave Kyoko a little smirk.

After they exchanged an icily polite farewell, Kyoko went back to the park almost in a rage. She hadn't even had her question answered after all that hassle.

Kyoko was patient, she could wait a few days. But goddamn it, she was going to find Yui's son and get some clear answers. Asuka's safety might depend on it.

History would not repeat itself. Kyoko wouldn't allow it.

Tokyo University Parade Grounds

June 27th, 2022

It was Asuka's day of triumph.

She had clawed her way up from utter obscurity, near-destitution even, month by month, year by year, all to reach this day. She had painstakingly rekindled her flame out of that one glorious spark. Drawn herself up from the trash heap. Reminded people of what she could do when she was determined. Piled scholarship upon scholarship. Spent hour upon mind-numbing hour with textbooks far beyond her grade, even some penned by her mother. Now she would force herself to the forefront of the new generation of EVA theorists and scientists. Go and find a doll that could do that.

Her first Ph.D, Biochemistry, was now in hand, and she had a dissertation defended with highest distinction at a top-notch school. The first of many degrees to come, she knew; biochem was but a stepping stone to higher topics. EVA kinds of topics. She was ready.

That old praise was back now, but she no longer thirsted for it or depended upon it as she had in the old days. Her singular determination lay elsewhere, with far more controllable variables and a far longer term goal than immediate gratification. But she wouldn't spurn laud and glory either. They were useful in their own way as formal recognition that her work was sound, as extra guarantees that she could reach the next stage.

Her class was marching in procession across the sun-baked pavement of the parade grounds, and then down the boulevards of Tokyo-3 around the university. She tried to stay near the front, though not quite at the head of the column. Nobody particularly tried to walk with her, and she was wrapped in her own thoughts. She avoided socializing except with a select few tolerable people, unlike the old Asuka who had reveled in having a crowd around her and boys chasing her, no matter how much she groaned about it outwardly.

She was the youngest of them all, and she should've been by far; most of the new were in their mid- to late-twenties. But she wasn't the only 'exceptional' student in the cohort that year.

His presence was always foretold and announced by choruses of whispering wherever he went. That let Asuka know to look away, focus on her notes, whatever. Some things just shouldn't be seen. Whether she averted her gaze out of resentment or pity she sometimes could not say herself in the moment. But then her mind would get working, and she always settled on the former. It was simpler.

Yes, he was always the talk. Ever their idol. Never mind that he didn't associate with anybody and warded off all approaches—such was a great man's prerogative! Not that he could make friends anyway. Whenever a flare-up of the War was reported on TV or radio, everyone knew he'd probably be absent from classes for a spell.

He was out very often.

She closed her eyes as she briefly recalled older days when an alarm meant three absences from roll call oftentimes. Misato always got so mad about their grades; well, what were they supposed to do, study instead of fighting eldritch monsters trying to kill everyone?

How had he managed to vault himself all the way up here anyway? Probably nepotism. He struggled in school when she knew him back then.

She had no way of discerning what the hell he was after here, what he wanted. It wasn't her, at any rate. He had never cared for her and never would. She had been this close to believing that he did, at some point. Well, likewise to him. She wasn't a desperate kid anymore.

Besides, she had no room for him. He was as ephemeral and insubstantial as a shade, ruined by his weakness. She was nurturing a flame, one born blazing like a phoenix from the wreckage of her former life. Two such things could not coexist, could not both occupy her mind. And already she knew which one she preferred.

That being said, it was the sort of thing that she would take with her unspoken to her grave, but…it was unnerving. It disturbed her, that silence. That unknown, that unfilled blank. What did he want?

Ah, well. She had her own business to look to, a fire to tend. Why waste more thought?

Lost in thought (now of all times!), she had fallen near the very back of the procession. Upon further inspection, she spotted no strikingly tall head and shoulders or any limping gait amid her cohort in front of her. That could only mean one thing, she realized as she passed under the cool shadow of a skyscraper and shivered just a bit despite the scorching heat.

She picked up her pace, gradually forging towards the front again, and did not look back.

Chapter Text

"The self always consists of two selves."

"Two?"

"The self that is seen by others, and the self observing that. There are even multiple instances of the individual named Shinji Ikari: The other Shinji Ikari that's in your own heart, the Shinji in Misato Katsuragi's heart, the Shinji in Asuka Soryu's heart…Each is a different Shinji, and yet each is a true Shinji Ikari."

Act One, Scene Five: Approach

EDD Central Facility

Evangelion Cage 3, Central Dogma Layer 25

January 31, 2032; 1200 Hours

From on high in the control box, the Soryus looked down at Unit-02 in its mighty chains.

"Four more weeks, by current estimates. Then we'll make it move."

Kyoko sidled up to her daughter's left and studied their project from the window. Unit-02's skull was open, and many working platforms and walkways were suspended all around it in the cavernous space. Dr. Pyria, Asuka's assistant, was directing a team of technicians around the occipital lobe. Bit by bit, the new cranial implants and electrodes were being carefully installed and welded onto the framework interspersed throughout the Evangelion's gray matter. They had yet to deal extensively with the core, but there was less to change.

"Move it to do what, I wonder."

She glanced at Asuka, ready to weigh her reply. This day could be an important one, a turning point in several respects. The theoretical heavy lifting was done for 02's new programming; most of the remaining work would be cautious implementation. Now other topics needed to be broached. Uncomfortable questions needed to be asked.

And she would hopefully meet Ikari later to get answers about the piloting system. As much as Asuka claimed to dislike him, she knew him well…or used to. From what little Kyoko understood, the two still seemed similar in many small ways.

Asuka shrugged, bringing a cup of coffee to her lips. The light glinted on a large golden pin affixed to the cuff of her coat's left sleeve: a graceful and powerfully built bird soaring upward amid stylized flames. The only personal decoration she wore. A reminder, she called it when Kyoko had asked about it some time ago.

Asuka was looking better nowadays, with the burden of the retrieval project behind her. With less pronounced eyebags and stress lines, it was easier to admire how she had retained the sharpness and loftiness of her face through the years. Her eyes were as piercingly blue as ever, and her flaming hair, cut down to her shoulders, was glossy in the fluorescent light. She stood a few centimeters taller than Kyoko now. Her daughter, so grown up, almost as old as her own mother.

To not only have missed out on that childhood, that whole lifetime, but to have destroyed it…

Kyoko was outclassed next to Asuka in just about every way, she had to admit. Her daughter had been refined by hardship, sharpened to a point rather than dulled or scattered. Or so her exterior proclaimed. She jutted her chin up and looked at Kyoko sidelong, still facing the Evangelion bodily.

"We'll always have enemies. And Unit-02 is still more potent than most new Evas. A Production Model made in the days when the world cooperated. When the UN and actual international trade existed," Asuka replied, regarding her coolly. She had sensed the direction of the conversation. The two had been all business ever since their meeting in the ward. Courteous, but controlled. Professional. The tune was different now.

"Enemies. And you're ready to have their blood shed by my…our…creation?"

Asuka's brow twitched, and she turned her head to stare at Kyoko full on. She put her cup down on the console in front of her and began to unconsciously fiddle with her pin.

"Nobody takes away 02 from me. Not anymore. We'll use it. And if it comes down to it…"

She paused and grimaced. Something flashed in her eyes, and her hands tensed up.

"...Then I'll pilot it again. I don't care what it costs me, what reputation it earns me, even if it's the same as his. Who else could do it, anyway?" Asuka finished, radiating grim determination.

Kyoko sighed. She had feared that this was lurking underneath.

"The new system should work for just about anyone. You can be free from 02, so why?..." She trailed off.

She couldn't hold her daughter's gaze anymore. Her eyes drifted down bitterly and lingered on the Eva's open skull. Damn that thing. Would it always be between them?

In the corner of her vision, Asuka took a more aggressive stance, now fully facing toward her mother. Her voice grew harsher.

"I was raised to do this. As rusty as I am, I can outdo the others. At least I want to pilot. God knows how he hated it from day one. Still does, I think. Maybe it's him you're giving a rest, eh? Let the soldiers have the field again." She ground out the words and finished with a slightly sarcastic tone.

Soldier. Kyoko's heart jerked.

"I want you to be happy, Asuka," Kyoko said firmly, suddenly finding the strength to look at her child again. "There's more to life than EVA, don't you think?" The counteroffer. There's more here. Colleagues, friends, family. I'm here, Asuka, for better or worse.

Asuka's haughty expression suddenly crumbled, recognition flashing in her eyes when she heard those words. Then vulnerability solidified into solemnity.

She lowered her head a bit and shook it slowly.

"No. Not for us. You just don't understand. There's no getting away from…"

Her brow twitched again and her eyes darted to a corner. Her voice came haltingly. The façade was weaker now; something Kyoko said had destabilized it.

"It…it just takes up your mind. Your feelings. Even your dreams. What else are you supposed to think of when it's been your whole life? That's probably why he still…" She trailed off and, seeming to consider where her words were headed, stopped the thought. She was pressing so hard into the pin that her fingers were turning white around it.

Feelings and dreams?...Any obsession would do that. EVA isn't unique in that.

"...It doesn't matter. Doesn't matter how much you love it or hate it. Where can you even run? If you're not in an Eva, one will probably crush you sooner or later." She snorted at that last thought, and her expression was once again guarded. "Nobody knows how many have met that end. So I'll take my chances."

"And if there were no more Evangelions? Nothing more to crush you like that?" Not just physically, but spiritually too.

Anger sparked in her daughter's eyes. "Wasted words. It won't happen. Why even think of it?"

She paused, intently staring at Kyoko and digging deeper into the meaning behind her questions.

"Or is there something I should know?"

Kyoko's lips pressed together and once more she stared at 02's open cranium in nervous thought. Asuka was revealing some of her mind, her rationalizations and outward thoughts, but there was something else, something ugly deep down at the roots in her heart. Was now the right time for Kyoko to explain her own intentions?

Before she could form a reply, there was a sudden commotion and a shuffle of footsteps behind them from the consoles where Hiyodori and Kitakami were working.

"Commander on post!"

Their impending argument cut short, the Soryus whirled around to the other side of the room and respectfully stood at attention.

There she was. Misato Katsuragi stood in her full red uniform, inspecting the room from underneath her sharply brimmed hat. Three heavily armed guards remained in the hallway outside. That trench coat has got to be uncomfortable…

"At ease, everyone. Just checking in," she said with a slight, somewhat awkward smile before turning to Asuka. "People mutter to me about chain of command visibility. So, Project Lead Soryu…how's 02?"

EDD Laboratory Sector

Weapons Development Lab, Central Dogma Layer 27

January 31, 2032; 1230 Hours

"To our great team!"

A crowd obediently echoed Dr. Yoizuki's toast as the assembled men and women raised their glasses of champagne. He drained his own glass and grinned out at the crowd around him, thoroughly pleased with the day's prospects. At last, a chance to show off to Command what he had done, what he had come up with.

He subconsciously readjusted his tie. He had donned his best suit for today's demonstration; this was no time to be slovenly.

Sketches and schematics of their versatile weapon's many configurations hung on the walls and covered desks and tables in the large central room. The future of Evangelion warfare, the fruit of careful manipulation of the Lances.

Nobody knew exactly how SEELE had made them…but Yoizuki had certainly learned how to work with them and exceed the designs of their makers. The wonders they could now do more than compensated for the blood shed to acquire them, as far as he was concerned.

Yes, the test with Unit-01 would be a landmark moment for him.

If only you could see me now, Father. You would know just how wrong you were to doubt me. It almost makes me regret what happened to you in the Second Siege. Almost.

Leaving the tie alone, Yoizuki fiddled with the necklace hidden under his dress shirt: a rectangular chunk of feather-light, graphite-gray metal on a simple chain. Not exactly stylish, but all the same, the key to his ascending career. A reminder.

His underlings lavished praise on him and spoke of their excitement for the test later. Yoizuki reveled in their acknowledgments. Oh, even they had a part to play, he would admit; but today was his!

In his pocket, his secure cell phone buzzed once, twice, thrice. He flipped it open and glanced at the contact information. His eyes widened and he quickly made as graceful an exit as he could into his neat and generously sized office adjoining the main room.

More samples of gray metal cluttered his oaken desk, along with various configurations of magnets and wires, all shining dully in rich orangish lamplight. Papers were piled high: publications and reports concerning the properties and electron orbitals of theoretical superheavy elements, designs for internally powered electromagnets, and a wide array of other esoteric physical and chemical subjects.

Checking his corners as he stepped in, Yoizuki held the phone up to his ear and offered a tentative greeting.

"Hello?"

…

"Yes, it'll be a full display. Let them see all of what we've made." He began pacing the room.

…

"What? Why would—"

The voice on the other end of the line, initially calm, increased in force as it cut him off.

"…Yes, yes, I understand…Fine, we'll keep to the original configuration set and leave out the newer patterns."

Yoizuki paused anxiously before finding the courage to venture his question, running an ever-so-slightly quaking hand through his greased hair.

"You'll be there today? We could use your help for the demonstration—"

…

"Ah…the freeze affects that, too? But your, er…'external connection,' does it qualify? That would be enough."

…

"I see. We can work with that. Okay…Then I'll see you later…Thank you."

Yoizuki hung up and let out a nervous sigh, clutching onto his necklace while he waited for his slightly elevated heart rate to fully relax.

After a few moments, he shook himself and took solace in his own little domain here. He was supreme in this place, and everyone knew it, everyone knew it. Hurrying to the door, he went back into the main lab to return to his preliminary celebrations.

Today was his day. Today was his day.

———

Two layers above, someone calmly clicked off a secure phone line. Yoizuki's ego continued to be a liability. No matter how delighted the weapons designer was with some of the ideas he had recently "come up with," such things were not to be seen yet. Command would be plenty awed by a more limited demonstration.

Then again, that man's vanity was also a boon in and of itself. It made him satisfied with what little he knew, and too jealous to share much of it with others. He would be content to toy with the external features of his weapon and never ask deeper questions or investigate its true nature until it was far too late.

EDD Central Facility

Evangelion Cage Hub

January 31, 2032; 1410 Hours

As they passed through the hallways between the cages, Misato Katsuragi kindly glanced at the elder Dr. Soryu, who had asked to walk with her for a bit and talk. Her guards stayed at a discreet distance behind them.

It really was refreshing to have someone with a conscience around and posted high on the 02 project. Asuka more than deserved someone who would look after her best interests. She had carried on for so long relying only on herself. If the JNDA managed to decisively defeat their rivals and the chance arose to destroy their own Evas…

Misato knew she would be resisted tooth and nail by many, Asuka most of all. She shivered a bit. She feared that fight more than her inevitable imprisonment and probable execution for defying the JNDA when she finally took her measures.

I hope you can show her a better life than I was able to, Mrs. Soryu. Our pilots…I failed them so badly.

"So, Frau Doktor, how's your work coming along? On your end, of course…leave it to your daughter to give me the most thoroughly technical Eva briefing I've had in ages," she finished with a slight chuckle. Is she doing better? Are you connecting with her?

Kyoko seemed to understand her unspoken questions.

"More smoothly than even the original manufacturing. Asuka is extraordinary," she replied, shaking her head sadly. "But all her heart is focused there. What will happen when it's all over?"

What life can we offer them at this point?

Misato had been hoping Kyoko might have some insight into that very question…

They entered a round, bustling hub room located between the four Evangelion cages, and elected to skirt its edges rather than cross through the crowds.

"I've had to ask myself that a lot, Mrs. Soryu," Misato sighed. "Honestly, I just don't know sometimes. After all that's been taken from them, that we've taken." That I've taken.

Kyoko nodded as they moved along, now about halfway across the room. "I know what you mean. The things I've done can't be undone." Oh, Dr. Soryu, do you even know the half of it?

Misato offered a grim half-smile. "To your credit, the worst that can be said of you is that you got tricked. When it comes to the history around EVA, that's not even a fault."

Kyoko shook her head solemnly. "I appreciate that, Commander, but it's still just as hard as if I had done all that to Asuka myself. I hurt her, even if I didn't mean to."

And I envy you. If only you knew what I've personally put our kids through, you wouldn't be so polite to me.

Misato had long since known that there could be no real forgiveness for her.

JNDA Secure Residency Complex, Apartment 502A

Geofront South Quadrant Section A-1b

February 8, 2018; 1500 Hours

Misato stood in front of the apartment door with a sinking feeling. She had risked everything to oppose SEELE not long ago. She now regularly faced down and threatened ambassadors, warlords, generals, armies, whole nations. She was revered by some people around the world, utterly reviled by many more.

She did not fear any of those things as much as making these visits to his apartment.

In an attempt to delay a bit more, she tried to listen to the other side of the door. To her surprise, she heard a low murmuring. Perhaps someone else was visiting?

…Or did he need another trip to a specialist?

Her pager beeped a reminder for a meeting with an important US diplomat at 1600. She couldn't linger here forever and try to gather her nerves. Ceasefire negotiations couldn't fall through now.

The world depended on it, after all.

She swiped her card and the door hissed open, but she still hesitated. No barrier in the Geofront could keep her out. But this was one of the few places that she just didn't want to enter.

An old memory struck her as she prepared to come in.

A chaotic day, the aftermath of an Angel battle, picking him up from the hospital, a visit to the housing agency ('For them, living without the other is the norm'), being yelled at over the phone by Ritsuko, the stop along the way to buy beer and snacks, a beautiful sunset over Tokyo-3, and…

"This is your home now."

…

"I'm home."

Misato stepped over the threshold.

Of course, beer cans weren't littering this apartment. But the entryway was dusty and neglected, the shoe rack empty despite at least one person being home.

Coming into the apartment proper, she saw the kitchen off to her right. Dirty dishes were piled high in the sink. Random cabinets were open, most of them empty. A bone-dry rag was on the counter, apparently used to clean a part of the stained surface before the attempt was abandoned midway through. Knowing how he was these days, the refrigerator was probably empty; no hum came to indicate that it was even working.

What a mess.

Misato turned away from the kitchen, stepped into the living room, and found the voice she had heard. Dr. Edwin Kestrel was on his knees near the middle of the area, leaning forward and softly speaking toward the other end of the room.

To call it a living room was pretty generous. There was no furniture at all save a low table off to the side. It was utterly overflowing and overstacked with all manner of books: genetics, chemistry, engineering, physics, and related fields.

The cheap carpet and bare walls smelled musty. At the far end, a large bay window would have provided a striking view of the center and north side of the Geofront, were the curtain not drawn. Afternoon light crawled in underneath but revealed little except how much dust was in the air.

Between the low table and the window, however, there was a lump of blankets on the floor. Either Kestrel had gone mad, started talking to inanimate objects, and thus also needed a shrink, or…

"I know that this past year has been especially rough. That's an understatement really. But please, I need to check on your arm…And besides, I'd really like to talk to you anyway. We'll get some tea. Catch up on our lives, eh?"

Kestrel glanced back at Misato without any hint of surprise. He must've guessed it was her or an envoy. He seemed on edge with her in the room now.

He had arrived a few years ago cheerful and carefree, a massive bonus almost as important as being an up-and-coming expert and innovator in prosthetics. Now he looked aged by the burden he carried.

Part of it was imposed by duty, but much of it was taken on his own initiative. Here, compassion was bound to trouble and injure the one who offered it. It was crushing to sincerely suffer with one who had suffered much.

But in return, Misato figured, perhaps the patient found in his doctor another person he could protect. Another person he wouldn't hurt even by doing what he did. She knew whom he used to ask after, at least before he latched onto the idea of seeing Rei. It seemed to her that having these few people to protect, however far he stayed from them, was the only thing keeping him going.

Kestrel looked back at his audience and continued.

"And Ms. Misato has come to see you too. We can get her some tea as well. Why not get up for a bit? Today's pretty nice outside. Good for a walk."

The lump on the floor jerked upon hearing Misato's name. After Kestrel finished, it paused for a few moments before moving again. The vague shape began to resolve into something more definite and human as it rose. An arm reached out pushed up from underneath as the figure tried to sit upright.

Unit-01 and its pilot were vilified around the world as much as Commander Misato Katsuragi. Not for no reason—01 was currently the JNDA's only functional Evangelion and perhaps the most terrifying weapon in human history. Their shield and their spear.

It had been frightening enough when it was only their shield. When they'd had the moral high ground.

Nowadays, in an attempt to maintain geopolitical balance, the newly-formed JNDA often intervened aggressively outside of its borders. And 01 earned its reputation as their spear, its pilot as virtually a war criminal, equally feared and hated by the JNDA's rivals. Evangelion warfare was unparalleled in its sheer destruction and its disregard for those caught in the crossfire.

Misato wondered how the international press would feel if they could see their 'villain' right now, struggling to get up from the place on the dirty floor where he'd apparently fallen asleep. He blindly and shakily groped behind him with his left hand for a long, jointed object lying nearby.

People whispered of the horror of his sorties. The terror of such an Evangelion wielded by a pilot with such a high synch ratio, and with such unstable emotions and violent tendencies in the cockpit. Liability, threat, psychopath: words bandied about by those who only saw one side.

Even outside of his Evangelion, many shied away from him. He was quickly growing to his full height, and one day perhaps he would match or even surpass his father there. And few could bear his focused gaze when he was moved enough to look at anyone that way.

Yes, Misato knew all too well how terrifying he could be at times, in or outside a battle, but…

All she could ever see was how he often seemed confused by the lightness of his own body, how he absently felt for shoulder pylons and restraining armor, how he frequently struggled with depth perception in his daily life because he had once again gotten used to 01's functioning binocular vision.

How the line between himself and his weapon was always on the verge of blurring irreversibly, and how much he seemed to hate that.

Here and now, without the armor and the terror, he looked…pathetic, as much as it hurt to say that. Human. Yes, human. All too human. Would they believe that, the press, the advocates and adorers, the critics and detractors, the demagogues and fearmongers?

If there was one thing, one person, that could possibly persuade her to give up everything she had built and fought for, it would be this one. Not by words, but by that glance full of dull acceptance.

But no. She couldn't stop anymore. They both knew that. The world depended on their work, no matter how much it crushed and bled and mangled her heart. No matter how much it made her question whether humanity's future was worth saving sometimes if she couldn't spare even him in the process. But to her surprise, he always seemed to understand.

Their hands were already so irrevocably stained.

Finally, the sitting figure grasped the object it was searching for and, slowly guiding it to its right shoulder, snapped on the prosthetic arm with a sickening crunch and a series of mechanical whirs. The silhouette shuddered, and the hand of the now-attached appendage rapidly clenched and unclenched in an attempt to tough through the mental shock of suddenly reconnected nerves.

Dr. Kestrel rose, softly shuffled over, and knelt down again. In an almost fatherly way, he took the artificial limb in one hand and grasped under the left shoulder with the other. He carefully helped his patient up from the floor and checked on the arm. He spoke calmly, but not condescendingly, as he worked.

"Easy, now. Easy. How does it feel? Not too painful? It's always a bit of a shock on first connection, but let me know if it keeps stinging and I'll readjust the circuits…"

As they rose, Kestrel gradually let go as he ensured that his patient, now standing almost as tall as him, was steady. Then he looked back.

"Now, what can we do for you…Commander?"

In his eyes she could see the dread. He had guessed why she had come, and he begged her not to do it, to just leave and give the kid a break. Just let him go and enter university like a guy his age ought to. Or do whatever he wanted at all. Let him be free for once.

But how could she help it? She needed to do this. The lives and futures of everyone in this room depended on it. The world depended on it.

Yes, one day she would set him free from EVA.

But today wasn't that day. Misato hardened her heart and found her voice.

"Pilot Ikari…please report to HQ at 1800 hours for briefing. SEELE has…escalated matters at the Black Sea front."

Kestrel shut his eyes and sighed. Next to him, the darkened figure, back still turned to her, bent his head but made no sound.

Her eyes welled up with tears. She turned, brutally pulling her cap downwards to obscure her brow, and left as quickly as she could.

"He was the one who should have survived. He was a much better person than I am…He should have been the one to survive."

"Only those who have the will to live get to survive. He wished to die. He abandoned his will to live, clinging instead to a false hope…You did nothing wrong."

"...You're really cold, Ms. Misato."

One day, one day…

In the meantime, she wouldn't take Ritsuko's bullshitting anymore. Misato would let him see his sister. Another person he protected and perhaps cherished in his own quiet way.

Just a little longer…just hang in there…Shinji.

———

Mechanical fingers tightly clenched in cold shock as the circuitry connected and nerve endings suddenly fired all at once. Gradually, the visceral knee-jerk reaction and subsequent rush of tingling numbness eased. The hand flexed and relaxed several times.

No matter how many advances were made in prosthetic technology, the neurological side, the human side, would always be imperfect. Soon enough, though, the latest modular schematics would turn even that into an advantage.

The clock read 1415. It was time to be off, time to see it: the latest weapon in the arsenal and a crucial new piece on the board.

EDD Central Facility

Evangelion Cage 2 Antechamber, Central Dogma Layer 25

January 31, 2032; 1430 Hours

Misato looked a bit surprised as Kyoko continued to follow her toward Unit-01's cage. She had probably been expecting a bit of casual conversation (which had suddenly and rather disconcertingly died off a few minutes ago) before parting along the way.

Many groups, mostly of three or four people, were also going in the same direction. They mostly filed off to one side of the massive antechamber, where escalators and elevators led to the upper galleries of the Evangelion's bay.

"Are you also coming to the tech demo today, Dr. Soryu?"

Kyoko nodded. "The Subcommander recommended it. I'd like to see what's on display."

They mounted the much less trafficked stairs that would bring them to the main catwalk in front of 01. The Commander looked pensive and more than a little nervous as they approached their destination.

"Did she?…Well, it's an important event, I suppose," Misato allowed. She tugged the steel collar of her trench coat closer about herself as they ascended step by step. "Fluxmetal could be a stalemate-breaker if it comes to that."

"What even is it?" Kyoko asked with a slight frown. "I tried to look into it, but nothing substantial came up on the database." As usual, apparently.

The Commander nodded. "It's been kept under wraps until now. You'll get the gist of it from Yoizuki, I'm sure. It's been his pet project," she replied. "We derived it from weapons SEELE used against us in the First Siege and made off with afterwards."

She gripped onto her cap tightly and drew it down her brow a bit. "We…spilled a lot of blood to retake a couple from the old Beijing branch a few years ago; the last battle before the global truce."

At the top of the staircase, the fortified entrance to Unit-01's cage stood open like a beast's yawning maw.

The portion of the room that Kyoko could glimpse was much dimmer than the brightly lit antechamber. The far wall of the cage, very dull and distant from where she now stood, still radiated sheer might: Plate upon enormous plate of welded, grayish steel, arch upon arch of scaffolding and reinforcement, pillar and column and crossbeam of unyielding and pitiless metal towered up out of the scant view the doorway offered.

As she approached, she felt a very slight, chill breeze flowing from the entryway. Kyoko shivered, not so much at the draft as at the…primal feeling caused by that room. She hesitated at the threshold, heart heavy with sudden and inexplicable dread. Something deep in her reeled back.

Misato, having already crossed in, looked back at Kyoko sympathetically but solemnly as she drew her coat more tightly around herself. Her red uniform looked bloody scarlet in the gloom of the cage. The weaker light inside was to the rest of the bright base what a solar eclipse's 'daylight' was to ordinary sunshine: just wrong. It cast that feeling on everything in it.

"You helped create 02, Dr. Soryu. It's admirably stable. But now you'll see our spear."

No, I can't cower away now. I need to do this…to find out about ADNAE…to help Asuka.

Kyoko stepped over the threshold.

She could only compare the feeling to one experience far back in her memory: A visit to the old cathedral of Cologne when she was in her teens. Cynic though she was, she had been awed back then by the gigantic stone spires, mullioned windows, and mountainous facades of one of the greatest Gothic buildings in the world. Crossing the threshold of that church had silenced her yammering thoughts back then, sheer physical grandeur designed to signify the presence of the divine.

It was dwarfed here. It felt as if the old cathedral could fit in this single room. The ceiling was far, far above, hardly visible at all. Even the shorter sides of the rectangular hangar would do for long-distance sprints. Vertigo assaulted her mind as it tried to register the absurd scale of Unit-01's inner sanctum.

Upper galleries spanned the whole room, mounted onto the walls a few storeys above where she stood. One walkway leapt over the empty space and connected the two side galleries together a ways behind the main gantry structure.

A low murmur was coming from above. Onlookers crowded the galleries and more streamed in from the escalators and elevators Kyoko had noted earlier. Many seemed undisturbed, but others were gazing fixedly and worriedly toward the opposite end of the room, beyond the gantry.

And at long, long last, following their glances toward the main part of the cage, her eyes skipping dozens of meters of empty space as if drawn by ineluctable gravity, Kyoko saw it: the Ikaris' masterpiece, Unit-01, standing far back and aloof, towering alone in the vastness of its den.

It was not yoked by the gantry mechanism she was standing on or by wall restraints. It stood freely and silently in open space, arms hanging down at its sides, LCL drained from the cage. Its feet were bound onto tracks on the dry floor.

There didn't seem to be any slots for its shoulder pylons to even lock into the walls. That would explain why the cage was wider than usual, and why she didn't see any part of the Eva's arms in the antechamber.

Even though it was stationed much further into the cage, she could tell that 01 was a bit taller than she remembered. Whereas Unit-02 met its gantry around its shoulders, 01 must have stood a few meters higher; its exposed, ruby core seemed just a little below level with Kyoko.

Its whole body was more imposing. 01 had been uncannily human albeit somewhat spindly in its proportions when she had last seen it. Now it looked far more muscular and powerfully built, the arms and legs much sturdier. A massive cable hung from the ceiling and connected to the right arm at its bicep plating.

Its armor was different, too. Gone were the garish green highlights on the shoulder pylons and limbs, exchanged for a sable black scheme that seemed to inescapably soak up what little light fell on it.

Though its eyes were dark and other signs of life were absent, it was obvious that the weight pressing down on Kyoko's mind and heart radiated from this Evangelion. It was slumbering, dreaming, waiting.

As she took in the aesthetic changes, her intuition screamed that something else was off besides coloration and proportion.

Kyoko knew from helping to design 02 that Evangelion armor was primarily a restraint mechanism. But even so, 01…

…01 had much more armor than it should've. Its jaw was clamped and tightly shut by colossal plates. Thick bands of jet-black steel wrapped around its upper arms; bastions of layered alloys encircled its rib cage and torso, flowing upward to join the lower pectoral armor around the core; and a bulwark of reinforced metal leapt from the sternum up to the neck and the shoulder pylons, interlocking with them and probably reaching back to meet around the shoulder blades.

This network of new armor formed an impressive cuirasse, but it still couldn't be efficient defensively. It had to be for restraining.

Soaking in these details, Kyoko paled and turned to Misato.

"Commander…Why is 01 unlocked? Why does it have so much extra…armor?"

Misato, who had also stood still to regard her 'spear,' merely grimaced and tightly clutched at some sort of pendant or trinket underneath her coat.

"01 is difficult to restrain. Wall locks are practically useless. The new armor is better, but even so…" She stopped and shook her head. "No, we have it under control, Dr. Soryu. Come on. Our 'viewing party' is waiting for us."

She motioned Kyoko along the gantry. She saw many familiar faces among the group there: Kitakami, Kestrel, and Ibuki stood off to one side. Standing by some consoles in the very center was Dr. Yoizuki, chattering to a crowd of technicians surrounding him. Kyoko eagerly scanned the crew for the massive frame of her quarry, but saw nobody matching Ikari's description.

One of Yoizuki's technicians pointed out the Commander as she approached. He broke away from his conversation and hurried to meet the pair.

"Commander! Welcome to the big event," he said smoothly, with a deep bow. "I trust you're looking forward to this as much as I am!"

Misato smiled tightly back at him. "It's certainly been a long time coming, Doctor. I wish you the best with the display." She paused and quickly scanned the crowd. "If you'll excuse me, I need to chat with Dr. Kestrel for a moment."

She hurried away. That woman can find an out when she wants to. I don't think I'll be so lucky…

Yoizuki looked a bit miffed, but perked up again when he noticed Kyoko.

"Well, well, well! I'm glad to see you, Dr. Soryu. I was hoping you might come! It's an important day for all of us, after all," he smirked. "Lucky you: you can have a front-row seat here on the gantry!"

He motioned for her to come along to meet the rest of their group.

Along the way, Kyoko made a split-second decision. It's not as if I can get too much information.

"So, Dr. Yoizuki, you've been working with Ikari, haven't you?" she asked politely.

He flashed another oily smile, but this time her eye also caught a subtle note of…pain, discomfort?

"That's right. He's lent me 01 to test my system on. He believed in my project from the start. If all goes well today, he'll ask for a complete installation."

Kyoko tilted her head a little. "I'm curious, what's he like? As a person, I mean."

Dr. Yoizuki maintained his smirk, but his eyes narrowed.

"Let me tell you something, Frau Soryu. Everyone has their opinion on what Ikari is," he said, shooting her a knowing glance. I should've been more subtle. "I don't speculate about peoples' personalities. But I wish you had clearance to see the recordings of his sorties, to see him in action."

He held her gaze sidelong and motioned with his chin off to the side, in Kestrel and Misato's direction.

"Then you'd wonder if someone like him could really want nothing more than to retrieve Mother dearest. No, you'd see why he's the perfect one, the only one, to wield my weapons."

His eyelids drooped a bit. He clutched at something underneath his shirt.

"You have to be brutal to survive nowadays. And Ikari…nobody's survived like he has. He's no perfect little lamb. No, people are right to be afraid of him," he finished with a chuckle. "I look forward to seeing what he does with my new system."

I don't.

———

Soon after Kyoko joined the rest of the Commander's entourage, the clock struck 1500. Yoizuki rushed to his place of pride at the front and center of the gantry, and motioned to the control box high above them. Kyoko craned her neck to see if any massive figure was up there, but still no dice.

The intercom system clicked on and boomed throughout the cage.

"Attention! PWM Demonstration #1 is about to commence. We request that you turn off and secure all electronic devices for the duration of this test. Recording of any kind is not permitted. Thank you."

Powerful floodlights clicked on in the upper corners of the cage, their stark beams converging in the middle of the cavernous space, quite close to Unit-01. Though the room was still dim, now everything caught in the path of the lights cast long shadows. The Evangelion, near the epicenter, had four weak ones.

Down on the floor below, Kyoko could also see the silhouettes of the gantry and those standing on it, including herself, as well as the upper walkway behind them.

As they adjusted to the strange new lighting situation, Yoizuki turned to his prized audience and tilted his head a bit. "Are you ready, Commander? You're about to see the cutting edge of our entire arsenal."

Misato coolly nodded at him and crossed her arms. Kestrel and Ibuki both looked nervous next to her, shifting in place a bit. Kitakami seemed absorbed in her own anticipation, gazing at Unit-01, and hardly even noticed that Yoizuki was speaking.

He strode forward to the railing and lifted his head up.

"Start the preliminary procedure!" Yoizuki called out to the cage control box.

From the ceiling a few meters 01, a pair of colossal circular constructs was lowered down on cables. A huge dark-grayish, metallic sphere floated between them. Kyoko recognized the devices as electromagnets similar to those used in particle colliders; they were probably keeping that orb suspended in midair.

When they lowered down to the true center of the floodlights, about level with Unit-01's core, Yoizuki quietly intoned a passcode of some kind and relayed his next orders through a tiny radio device in his hand.

"Internal magnetic anchors powering up!" a voice called over the intercom.

"Control program online! Schematics database green!"

A low hum resounded from the sphere.

"Deactivate storage magnets and set the PWM to Configuration 1!" Yoizuki commanded.

"Ionizing to Configuration 1! Power flow regular!"

Instantly, the metallic orb, which was apparently the Particle-Wave Matter, melted, fell onto the floor of the cage by Unit-01's feet in a massive puddle…and did nothing else. Choruses of whispered, incredulous conversation sprang up all over the room. The Commander's expression, however, was stoic and unchanged.

…This is their new weapon?

"Electron orbitals holding steady in Configuration 1. Readings are stable!"

"Good! Alright…Fully engage the electromagnets and input Configuration 5!" Yoizuki ordered gleefully, apparently amused by the confusion of his audience.

"Input confirmed!"

The humming from within the mass of melted PWM increased tenfold. Suddenly, seemingly by its own power, it pooled back together. The center of the conglomerate hardened and the rest miraculously began flowing and piling onto it, rapidly solidifying meter by meter. It was like reversed footage of a pillar of ice melting. After a few mere moments, the puddle molded itself into a perfectly smooth, freely standing column nearly as tall as Unit-01 itself.

The murmur along the side galleries gave way to shocked gasps at the apparent defiance of the laws of nature.

Yoizuki turned and grinned at the Commander and the others crookedly.

"A real wonder, isn't it? Fluxmetal! Particle-Wave Matter, the stuff of the Angels, in the form of a metal that makes titanium seem heavy and graphene look frail!" he exclaimed, reaching up with his hands and pantomiming ripping something apart.

"But add a bit of very targeted magnetic induction and it flows like quicksilver and builds itself into just about anything you like. Just wait and see what it can really do."

He looked back to the control room.

"Status report!" he called into his radio.

"Electromagnetic field holding! Configuration 5 is stable! Material readings still match original Lance samples."

"Run through the rest of the basic configurations, six through thirty!"

Over the next fifteen minutes, the wonder-material shaped itself into increasingly complex solids, culminating in an impressively detailed sculpture of a soaring bird—surely a function purely for showing off. It worked; the onlookers in the upper gallery applauded appreciatively at the display of control and precision.

But eventually, it seemed that Yoizuki had had enough. After ordering his team to turn the "weapon" back into a massive column, he suddenly gestured to Unit-01 itself, standing as silent and stalwart as ever. Out of the corner of her eye, Kyoko saw Misato give a start.

"Alright then. Enough playing with shapes. Let me show you all what you came for. Dr. Ikari, would you please take hold of the fluxmetal?"

What?

Suddenly, 01 moved its right arm, the one with the cable attached, with perfect fluidity toward the column of metal. Its movements were smooth but organic, neither clumsily automated nor inhumanly efficient. The rest of its body didn't move an inch.

Gasps rang out from the side galleries and especially the walkway behind Kyoko. Her focus was now entirely locked on 01.

Is he in the Evangelion?! Has it been active this whole time and he's just been waiting there? But its eyes are still dark, and it's making no sound…

Unit-01 took the bar in hand and held it steadily in front of itself.

Next to Kyoko, Misato gritted her teeth. "I didn't give him clearance for this," she heard the Commander mutter under her breath. Clearance for what? An activation?...

"Keep a firm grip! Control, set to Configuration 31 and increase density by a factor of 5."

"Inputting!"

Before the wondering eyes of the crowd, the perfect column of metal melted in Unit-01's hand, gathered itself up, and formed a hilt and guard. The rest flowed into a wickedly curved blade at least as long as the Eva's forearm.

Yoizuki turned in a circle and grinned as he regarded his whole audience staring back in shock. He spoke as loudly and grandiosely as he could.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, witness the next generation of EVA weaponry!" Uproarious applause broke out from all sides, though Misato and Kestrel were conspicuously quiet. Yoizuki soaked it all up.

Oh, he's just having the time of his life, isn't he?

"Now, it's a little away from procedure, but I propose a secondary experiment while we're here: Let's find out if the Operations and Works departments managed to do what I asked them to!"

A laugh from the crowds around him.

"Bring up the test barriers!"

In front of 01, thick concrete and steel walls shot up from the floor. At Yoizuki's signal, the Evangelion effortlessly and dispassionately pierced through each of them with its new knife, sheerly by the strength of its arm and without support from the rest of its unmoving body. The fluxmetal wasn't even scratched.

"Today marks the end of Progressive Knives, and glaives, and whatever else you can imagine, ladies and gentlemen! But we're far from done. Run offensive configurations thirty-one through sixty-five!"

And once again, his team put the fluxmetal through a battery of transformations, this time a whole armory of just about every melee weapon imaginable: spears and halberds, axes and claymores, knives, bucklers and shields. The PWM seemed capable of condensing or spreading out to suit the required proportions, though it lost none of its deadly edge in the more voluminous configurations. The crowd was buzzing as the demonstration progressed.

A stalemate-breaker, Misato called it…If we have a monopoly on it, I could see that.

"And for our last trick…" Yoizuki briefly paused for his joke to land. "We'll show you some defensive configurations. Control, initiate 01's internal armor anchors and cycle seventy through eighty!"

Unit-01's armor emitted a low hum. The PWM melted once more, and snaked up the Evangelion like flowing water, solidifying into armor at various points along the hands and forearms, core and vitals, legs and shins. Sometimes the magnetized armor was smooth and thickly layered to withstand a staggering blow, other times wickedly serrated for a brutal mauling in passing.

Kyoko and Misato shared a glance. There was no telling what this stuff was truly capable of, and now the genie was out of the bottle. All the more reason to hasten the end of any war machines that could use it in such great quantities.

"Alright, let's wrap up here, shall we? Control, disengage the magnets and bring us back home: Configuration 0!" Yoizuki shouted ecstatically.

As fluxmetal flowed into 01's hand and the humming ceased, it took on one last shape…

…and Kyoko recognized this one. She knew it from the files circulated in Gehirn when Dr. Katsuragi's ill-fated Antarctica expedition was ongoing.

A tall, twisting, double-helical shaft culminating in two long and bitterly sharp bident points. Knowing the name Dr. Katsuragi had given it and seeing Unit-01 wielding it, its arm now relaxed at its side once more, only made the situation feel more ominous.

That was the Lance of Longinus, the Spear of Destiny.

Or else it sure looked like it. Her heart froze. It seemed that the crowd was disturbed too; it fell silent all around. No, it's a different color—not the Lance, then?

Sensing the shift in the room, Dr. Yoizuki hurried to damage control. After issuing an order to have the tracks bring 01 back to the gantry, he turned to the crowd to offer his rousing concluding remarks. Kyoko didn't pay attention to them, lost in thought, watching as 01 was brought closer and closer, ever so slowly approaching her. It's…a copy of the Lance? Yet so much more. If this were ever to fall into rogue hands…who knows what it could do?

In the back of her mind she sensed that Yoizuki had managed to rehabilitate the mood. She tuned back in to his words just as 01 returned to its normal station at the gantry and towered over them all.

"...And there you have it! The most versatile material and weapon ever made; an unstoppable force, and no immovable object! The future of EVA warfare, the future of our country and our prosperity, our unbreakable shield and spear!" He bowed deeply. "Thank you for your attention, ladies and gentlemen!"

The crowd was appeased, returning one last round of exuberant applause before breaking into the murmur of individual conversations.

Kyoko glanced over at the Commander, who was now staring up at Unit-01 lost in thought, once more clutching at whatever trinket she was wearing under her uniform. Strangely enough, Dr. Kitakami was also studying the Evangelion very carefully, her eyes lingering on its right arm.

Now that it was back in its regular station, the floodlights in the far corners of the room lent 01 a sinister backlight. Meanwhile, the light from the near corners illuminated its front in great detail, the purple and the occasional blue colorations gleaming brilliantly compared to the black hole of the sable highlights and restraints.

Was the moment finally coming? Kyoko watched the ejection apparatus near the Evangelion's neck, waiting for it to descend onto 01, waiting for the Entry Plug removal sequence, waiting for him to finally emerge, waiting for that haunting ghost to finally stand before her in the flesh.

Next to her, Yoizuki called out toward the crowd above them once more.

"Well, Ikari? What do you think? Good enough?!"

As he spoke, Kyoko's eyes were inexplicably drawn lower. The silhouette of the gantry was either down on the floor or else crossing over Unit-01's legs; but the shadow of the upper walkway leapt across the Eva's arms and chest. On the purple portions of the armor she could plainly see the many heads and shoulders of the crowd above her.

But near the center of the torso, a gap in the figures appeared where only empty railing was projected.

And on Unit-01's unsearchably deep, glimmering, ruby-red core, one single shadow rested.

It was noticeably taller than any of the other silhouettes cast onto Unit-01, and it stood perfectly still. Next to the outline of the torso there were the vague, lumpy shapes of arms and hands resting on the railing.

Kyoko now registered that the excited chatter in the room had abruptly died off when Yoizuki triumphantly asked his question. Misato, Kestrel, Kitakami, and Ibuki had all turned around now, too.

For the answer to Yoizuki's question came not from Unit-01, but from behind and above Kyoko. From the upper walkway. From the–

"It will do."

Even in the cavernous room, the solemn, almost ceremonious affirmation of that calm and steady baritone from on high carried far and wide. A pin could have dropped and resounded loud and clear in the reverent silence that pervaded the cathedral-like space.

Kyoko's eyes widened, and she whirled around. Has he really been…

White gloves clutched loosely onto the railing, meeting a pristine lab coat at the wrists. From the right sleeve, a long cord snaked out and vanished into a nearby console on the walkway.

The lab coat was slung atop tall and thinnish shoulders, and framed a simple black sweater. And finally, Kyoko's gaze was drawn all the way up.

Some features were hard to discern, since Kyoko was quite a few meters away. Nonetheless, she could recognize her two former colleagues in that long, lean, and sharp face. Yui generally won out in the frame of the clean-shaven jaw, the skin tone, and the dark brown color of the somewhat messy hair; but the higher cheekbones, heavier brow, and slight ruggedness of the chin were all Gendo's.

A single eye, its color indiscernible to Kyoko, peered down at those assembled, piercingly focused even at this distance. Where its twin, the left eye, would have been, there was a gray adhesive patch over the socket. Light scars nicked the bottom edge and the temple above it.

As he surveyed the key audience below him one by one, Shinji Ikari finally looked at Kyoko. She clenched her teeth nervously. He was utterly inscrutable, judging and weighing her from on high. The pressure she had been feeling the whole time from Unit-01 doubled under his gaze.

But like the Angel of death…it passed over her for the moment, and Kyoko let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. At length, he locked onto Misato.

"Commander," he said simply. Once more, despite not noticeably raising his voice, he seemed perfectly audible to everyone in the colossal room.

"…Yes, Pilot Ikari?" Misato steeled herself and looked up to meet his scrutiny.

"I request full and permanent installation of this system in Unit-01."

The two stared at each other for a long moment. A little contest of wills, a silent test of resolve.

…

But at last, Commander Katsuragi, despite the steel in her uniform and in her glance, gave way.

"...Granted."

He nodded ever so slightly. "That will be all, then."

———

As the minutes passed and the crowds filtered out of the room, Kyoko, Yoizuki, Misato, and Dr. Ikari stayed in their places. Eventually, the floodlights in the near corners clicked off, while the far ones stayed on. The shadows of the gantry and walkway died off, while Unit-01's twin silhouettes waxed in strength.

Ikari seemed absorbed in Unit-01, leaning his elbows onto the railing, his eye now studying different pieces of its armor and core bulwark, now examining the Lance in its hand, now gazing into its darkened eyesockets.

Yoizuki was happily chattering at the beleaguered Commander about official permission to proceed with his installation. But Kyoko could neither tear her sight away from the massive frame of her quarry nor gather the nerve to call out to him.

Suddenly, he straightened up, turned away, and started walking. As Kyoko remembered, he favored his left leg. She gave a start, ready to run after him if need be. She hadn't come all this way to be frustrated here too.

But it became clear as he reached the side gallery that he was merely descending to the gantry. He came down the stairs, holding onto the railing as he went, and looped around to the central walkway.

He approached the trio still standing there in the middle, hands in his coat pockets, his steps soft and nearly silent, belying his enormous height. His impediment was only given away by the unevenness of his pace; he used neither crutch nor brace.

Step—step…step—step…step—step…

Chilling anticipation and fear flowed through Kyoko's veins as he neared. She could see his eye more clearly now: it was deep blue like his father's. No, he passed under 01's silhouette and it was—green? But then he was nearly upon her, and her train of thought died altogether. She craned her neck a bit to look up at him.

He stopped a couple meters away, returned her stare with total calm, and nodded at her glacially. They both stood in the middle of Unit-01's all-encompassing shadow.

"Dr. Soryu," he said softly. "It's been a while. How have you been…adjusting?"

Chapter Text

Just as children dread and tremble at everything in murky shadows,

Even so do we sometimes fear in broad daylight

Things that needn't worry us any more than what little ones

Shiver at in the darkness and make up in their minds.

Therefore, to dispel the soul's terrors and shades,

We do not need the sun's rays or the day's bright darts,

But an examination of Nature and its laws;

A task I will eagerly undertake to explore in my words.

-Lucretius, De Rerum Natura

Act One Finale: Exchange

As she loitered underneath the staircase of Unit-01's antechamber, Asuka finally heard a pair of descending footsteps above her.

Yoizuki had been hounding her to attend the demo, so she'd settled for watching from the upper galleries. His toy seemed promising, she had to admit. The sleazeball himself was annoying as ever. She idly wondered how flammable his hair was with all that grease in it. For no particular reason.

But that was all forgotten when she saw the crowd give way for him to take his place mid-demonstration, plug something into his arm, and move 01 like a puppet. It was creepy. How did he even do that?

After that, people around her started circulating the old rumors about him and his Unit. That something was off, that he seemed like more than just its pilot, that his last battle at old NERV Beijing had scared the remaining world powers into signing their truce.

He made her work with Unit-02 look downright tame, as usual.

…All that aside, since she'd seen Mother down there, Asuka figured they might as well talk and smooth things out. Nothing sappy, but drama would be impractical. Asuka hadn't really meant to snap at her, but those particular words…

As the two latecomers turned into view at the bottom of the stairs, Asuka took a breath, only to freeze just as she was about to call out. One of them was indeed Kyoko.

But it wasn't the Commander who was with Mother; it was him. Unmistakable with that gait. The irregular rhythm of his stride, always right behind Asuka, always throwing her tempo just a little bit off. She scowled and backed further underneath the staircase.

As they passed by her unnoticed, she picked up snatches of conversation.

"…ask you about something in Unit-02…"

Ikari made a subtle silencing gesture and Mother trailed off.

Still looking into that thing, huh?

Kyoko still seemed worried about the piloting interface. As far as Asuka was concerned, it was good enough as long as it worked. But now Mother was collaborating about it—without checking in with her, the project lead?

That irked her. Especially those two of all—

As they crossed the room and moved away from Asuka's somewhat concealed position, he glanced right back at her, and her heart froze. She had been way out of his peripheral, at his four- or five-o'clock. He was more aware than she'd given him credit for.

Yet the look in his eye was not suspicious or angry, but rather…

At her side, her fists clenched.

Evangelion Cage 3 Control Box

4 December, 2029; 2100 Hours

The door suddenly flew open. Asuka strode across the dark, empty room, past the work stations and consoles, all the way to the observation window at the far side. Pale light streamed in from the cage.

She had finally proven herself enough to get here. She'd come knocking with a brilliant paper analyzing the methodological inadequacies of the previous retrieval attempts and proposing a new approach, and kicked the original lead technician right out.

And when she had finally joined the group last week at the project's official commencement, and Ibuki had briefed them on the true nature of 02…

It had taken just about everything she had to hold it together, especially when she got those irritating, pitying glances from the rest of the team.

She didn't feel ready to deal with all of that. Too much ambivalence, too much pain treasured up over the decades. Was she happy that Mother had survived after all, or disappointed that the past would never let go? Even if she hadn't been herself there at the end, wasn't she just one more absentee when Asuka had most needed help?

She'd figure it out later. There was work to do. After all, this was her upswing. She'd earned her place in this control room.

But the idiots in the JNDA wouldn't make her the director of the whole project, citing "incomplete credentials" in MB (an acronym, in her mind, for 'Mega-Bullshit'). Instead, that privilege was reserved for—

"Good evening, Dr. Soryu."

Her brow twitched as her ruminations were interrupted, and she whipped her head to the left. She wasn't alone.

He was leaning against the wall near the corner, gloved hands folded behind his back, his eye trained steadily on her. His black sweater and dark trousers made him blend in with the half-lit surroundings, compensating for his sheer physical presence. She must've rushed by him without noticing. What was he doing here so late at night anyway?

After the first staff meeting, they had actually briefly spoken for the first time since…God, right after the 15th?

And just like that last conversation all those years ago, this one had been short and ugly. He'd been all detached and silent. Simply the latest expression of his eternal insincerity and spinelessness. It had brought out some of her old fire and vitriol, to no visible effect.

She had secretly hoped that the years would've toughened him up so that they could at least respect each other, even if their old camaraderie had died with the 13th Angel. She did feel bad sometimes, knowing what he'd gone through; but surviving that should've given him a backbone.

No such luck. Deep down, and outside 01, he was just the same tentative, cowardly guy who had left her out to dry when things went sour. Just another ghost of her past. Unreliable. Self-absorbed.

How wretched.

Yet another reason to focus on her career and leave others to themselves.

Except that she couldn't escape him even here. It made her blood boil. Avoiding her was one thing; taking her rightful spot, the respect owed to her, was quite another.

"What are you doing here?" Asuka deadpanned. "Sneaking around looking to scare someone?"

'Why are you on this project at all? Haven't you had enough?' she thought.

He straightened up and limped over to join her at the window, stopping at a respectful distance and looking down at their subject. Light streaked in from the cage, partially illuminating him and making him appear more substantial.

"I came to observe 02."

She crossed her arms haughtily. "Is your Unit not enough? You have to take mine too?"

A long, thoughtful silence.

"There are things I need to learn from this Evangelion. But as for you…"

He briefly glanced at her sidelong and his steady voice hesitated. Eventually, his hand clenched at his side.

"...Don't you think there is more to life than Unit-02?"

A flash of disbelief, quickly followed by rage. What kind of question was that?

"That's rich coming from you," she parried, volume rising.

"..."

"What are you except EVA, O almighty Pilot?" She spat that last word out.

He said nothing. He was doing it again. 'Goddamn it, just grow up already!' She growled in frustration and marched right up to him, fists balled up at her sides.

'I'm not your enemy! I don't know if I hate you or not! Just LOOK AT ME!'

"Why. Are. You. Here."

Suddenly, he turned and faced her. But to her surprise, though his expression was unreadably mixed, the dominant note was—

Grief?

"Find a different life, a different purpose. Be free…Asuka," he said quietly.

She recoiled, scowl crumbling. Of all the things she had expected to hear, that was…

He spoke as if he…

But she recovered quickly. That was a stupid thought. No, it was obvious what he was really angling at.

"How dare you," she hissed. "Hypocrite. As if you know any better."

Her vision was blurring just a bit. Now, of all times, after so long?

Ikari bent his head and drew in breath to reply.

No. No more of this. He wouldn't get to her. She turned and stormed out of the control box. She abruptly stopped in the outer hallway, listening in case he followed her. He didn't.

Shinji of all people couldn't accept that they were bound to EVA?!

No, that was impossible. He just wanted her gone, probably wanted what little glory and solace she had scraped together to cover the everlasting shame of her piloting career. Wanted his perfect, safe solitude, even if it meant taking 02 from her. The man at the top was the loneliest of all. Bastard.

Asuka held fast to her phoenix emblem, her anchor, and focused on her breathing. That promise she'd once made to herself as a little kid, she'd broken it in the old days. She wouldn't ever again. And at her very lowest, what had saved her was her vow to master Unit-02, to bend it to her will, to have her revenge on it. She would not fail.

She and Shinji Ikari had nothing in common. She was a fool for hoping even a little bit and letting him catch her off guard. And one day, he'd regret that.

Trembling in that lonely hallway, it was so hard not to weep at her shortcomings.

Central Dogma Layer 9

January 31, 2032; 1700 Hours

Despite his considerable limp, Kyoko still struggled to keep pace with Dr. Ikari's mighty strides as he guided her to his office nestled in Central's endless passages.

They had exchanged little more than some pleasantries since they met on Unit-01's gantry. He was extraordinarily polite and soft-spoken, but…a little awkward or distracted, perhaps unaccustomed to light conversation. She would direct a courteous question and he would respond in a word or two. Long periods of silence would ensue before he offered anything in return, if at all.

Whenever Kyoko began driving at her real inquiry, Ikari silently cautioned her away from it. She got more and more nervous the longer their trip went on. Her fingers felt jittery with anticipation.

Finally, they arrived at a nondescript, unmarked door, identical to a dozen others along the hall.

His office was hidden in plain sight, not deep in the bowels of Central Dogma as she might have expected, or behind dense security measures and locks. But it still wasn't accessible. It was tucked deep in a veritable maze of empty passages, probably near the outer perimeter of the whole floor. She would have to rely on maps to even find her way back.

The door slid open and he stepped in, leaving Kyoko to follow. It shut and sealed behind her with a crisp click.

The room was plain and barren as a monk's cell, and no more than a few meters to a side. The sparse furniture and ornamentation made even that feel empty. In the dead center, there was a bare metal desk with a chair on each side, a bank of grey filing cabinets along the back, and a small side table and lamp placed against the right wall. The light glowed a bloodless white and illuminated most of the room.

There was only one dash of personality, and it was a shocking one. On the side table there was a small crucifix, perhaps about the size of her hand. The dark, wooden cross was plain, but the corpus looked intricately painted and detailed. Even at some distance, she could see ugly crimson trailing down the face and flowing from the traditional five wounds.

Kyoko had seen more than her fair share of strange imagery and even crosses in her time at Gehirn, but none quite so disquieting or out of place.

Otherwise, the floors, wall, ceiling—all dull metal or unpainted tiling and drywall. Immaculately clean. Hardly a trace of use or habitation. A blank slate which only made Ikari's presence all the more stifling. The dull room blurred together and drew attention to the owner now sitting rigidly at his barren desk. Kyoko took the uncomfortable metal chair across from him.

He leaned forward and put his arms and clasped, gloved hands on the desk. As if a switch were flipped, a focused air replaced his polite almost-shyness. A slight, invisible pressure accompanied his gaze.

"It's good that you've fully recovered, Dr. Soryu. What have you come to ask?" It was less a question and more a signal.

Well, here's the moment, then.

She tossed her printouts before him, swallowing back her anxiety. But the plainness, the void of information, the lack of personality save for that crucifix—it was getting to her. She felt shaky.

"This piece. In Unit-02's equipment. What is it?" she forced out.

Ikari reached across the desk and examined her offerings. Ever so slowly, his eye crept up to meet her intent stare.

"You dislike being deceived."

Kyoko blinked. That was unexpected, but…

"…Yes," she agreed lamely, her faltering momentum now thoroughly subverted.

He rose from his seat, reading the printouts again. They nearly folded in his tightening grip.

"I did not develop this," he said, a slight frown gathering on his face.

"What? But you were listed, and the Subcommander spoke as if you knew all about it…" Kyoko trailed off in surprise. Did she lie? But what a stupid thing to lie about, only to direct me straight to the disproof.

"There is information about the Ayanami project that only I am completely familiar with. I organized and submitted it at the Subcommander's order along with 02's biometrics, and occasionally offered interpretations or advice. This is the result." His brow lowered bit by bit and his lips pursed tightly. The air rapidly grew more oppressive. This was not the same man who had awkwardly let their little conversations trail off. Kyoko crossed her arms nervously.

"So you…don't know what it does?" she asked awkwardly.

Something flashed in his eye as he reread the parts manifest. "I've had my suspicions. She must've known that."

He limped over to a filing cabinet in the far right corner, unlocked it with a key from his pocket, and pulled out an overstuffed black binder almost bursting at the seams. He has something to offer after all?

He strode back over, now partially facing away from his lamp, and intently studied her as he stood before her. His face was more obscured, shadows etching the steep slopes of his lean features and the socket of his lone, deep green eye.

"With my authority over Unit-02 expired, I cannot study this piece directly."

He tilted his head a little. "You have access to it, but lack key information," he said. "It has been kept from you."

I know that all too well.

He placed the massive binder on the desk, opening it to show her reams of raw data: genetic information (some of it recognizably Unit-02's, but much more totally unfamiliar), compatibility tests, blood analysis.

"I propose a deal," he enunciated, as if reading out a contract. "Since the Subcommander will not explain herself, we can cooperate in uncovering the truth. My knowledge, your eyes and skill."

Kyoko gaped back at him. They were way off course now. "But…I don't even know if I can figure this out from scratch; I came here for answers, to know if it's safe or not…the MB stuff seems beyond me," she said, disheartened.

That struck a nerve. The temperature in the room seemed to drop as one side of his face twitched up almost into a snarl. Something different was bubbling up.

"Intimidation and concealment. Favorite tricks of Gehirn and NERV. You should know," he said lowly.

"I do. Even here, I'm being run in circles. I was hoping you might help me out," Kyoko shot back with rising frustration. A bit of fire crept in and steadied her voice, pushing back against the pressure.

Ikari noticed her mood shift and took a moment to smooth himself out, raising a hand placatingly.

"I will help with your study. Put briefly, ADNAE must function in place of a human soul, perhaps through the genetic manipulation Dr. Fuyutsuki once pioneered," he reassured Kyoko, taking out a stack of papers under the old MB's name and laying them out. "If so, you can grasp the principles."

She studied the binder again and cooled off a bit. The nature of the deal was becoming clearer. That would be more manageable. By my own power, too.

Perhaps sensing her relief, Ikari grew more serious. "But we can't be sure. Its true nature has been hidden. So, our exchange: Use this information, study ADNAE in that light, and keep in touch with me."

As he towered over her, he extended his open right hand down.

"What greater thing is there than to break through lies and veils?" he asked, his stature seeming to grow before her, his gravity now taking on an air of solemnity or even grandeur. The stifling atmosphere gave way to…something else, something more. Kyoko thought of Unit-01's cage.

Although she wanted to accept on sheer instinct, Kyoko's steely rationality hesitated. In the past, perhaps pure curiosity would've driven her to agree; but she couldn't be so naive anymore. Ikari was proposing a kind of conspiracy against their superiors.

Can I afford to stay ignorant about this?

But there might still be other ways…

Ikari's face softened and the air relaxed a bit, but he still offered his hand patiently.

"But you aren't doing this for yourself, are you?" he murmured.

No, what other choice do I have? Nobody else can help. I need to be sure it's safe.

"For her," he added, gently answering his own question.

Kyoko gasped sharply. Her chest felt tight.

…For Asuka.

She jerkily brought her own hand up to shake.

His palm and fingers felt cold and smooth as ice through the glove. She shuddered as she stared up at him. He was so much like his parents; his father's implacable spirit and his mother's sly understanding. Yet he was also indescribably different from either. Touches of awkwardness and even shyness, hints of steel. Paradox and contradiction. No wonder people have such conflicting opinions. What are you?

"You are not a blind tool, Dr. Soryu. Knowledge will set you free," he intoned as their handshake ended and their deal was sealed. He shambled back over to his seat.

"We'll meet again soon," he finished.

The look in his blue eye declared that this meeting was over. Kyoko's body seemed to move on its own. She grabbed the binder, rose hastily, and paced over to the door.

But gathering her willpower at the threshold, she turned and managed to push through the dense atmosphere one last time.

"Why are you doing this? Why do you care?"

Everyone has a different idea of what drives you. But what do you say?

Silence reigned. He returned her stare contemplatively.

Eventually, he leaned forward in his seat and offered a simple reply with…a hint of a smile?

"A promise."

That was all. The pressure snapped back into place between them like an iron bar. She backed out of the doorway and it slid shut in front of her.

As she stood there dumbly, Kyoko felt uneasy. Only the immense weight of her new binder kept her grounded in reality. She had come in search of answers and instead walked away now a part of something she didn't really understand.

She turned and looked for a floor map.

She felt lost in this labyrinth.

Commander Katsuragi's Office

Misato cradled her head in her hands as she reread Captain Ibuki's latest assessments of the Auxiliary S2 project.

Trade deals with the US and RF had totally failed since last Fall, leaving them short on critical materials to progress further on that front, much to Ibuki's personal consternation and Misato's own stress.

The Captain was of the sort that had flourished in the peace and cooperation that SEELE once imposed on the world in order to make its technological advances. It was how they had gathered all of the many rare minerals that Evangelions and S2s required, a variety which was near impossible to obtain nowadays.

There was only one solution without the UN or international trade, and it was exactly what Ibuki feared (for good reason): war. The JNDA would just have to go and take what they needed.

They would just barely complete the S2 Engine necessary to sustain Unit-02's new, power-hungry control interface. That would be it. No secondary Drives to supplement their other Evangelions' strength. Unit-01 still reigned supreme. They'd have to deploy it.

Putting the latest bad news aside, Misato turned to her longtime…friend? It was still unclear what she and Ritsuko were, after all the trauma and betrayal back in the day. Necessity had forced them to work together ever since the coup; it had been do or die at every turn from the outset. Their personal distance remained immense.

Nonetheless, Misato hoped her Subcommander, now calmly standing next to her, could hold up for just a little longer.

"We install the S2 Engine and your part, and then Unit-02 is ready to go?"

Ritsuko nodded crisply. "With how everything's coming together, we'll just barely have an edge on everyone else. One last window to win it all."

I think you and I might have different ideas of what winning means, Rits. But for now, we can agree.

The world powers were on the move. A couple were pulling back their Lances to experiment with. Troops were crowding up against the DMZs, almost certainly uniting against the JNDA. Yes, whatever they had learned from the security breach had them all scared and banding together for once.

There was no way the JNDA could hold their international borders against a global invasion. But if they hurried, they might just be able to withstand the inevitable onslaught. A global alliance would be riddled with mutual distrust, and would probably avoid a long campaign, rushing instead for a decisive battle right at the jugular: Tokyo-3.

"As for ADNAE, why didn't you show it to Ikari? If it can tame Unit-02, it could do the same for his," Misato said, narrowing her eyes. Her subordinate's choice hadn't sat well with her, and she still had half a mind to forward it to Shinji anyway. She knew how important this was to him; she'd even bet it was what had kept him going after all this time.

"No point right now. The power demand to restrain 01's evolution factor would exceed even its S2's capacity," Ritsuko replied levelly, her poker face betraying nothing.

"But you will eventually."

"We can see about it after the dust settles. In the meantime, Mrs. Soryu can investigate ADNAE if it eases her mind; better than complaining and drawing more attention to it," the Subcommander said with a nonchalant shrug. "But I'm not handing out important info like candy, especially after the breach."

That doesn't really explain your decision to keep it so secret, and we both know it—but that's still true enough. Who knows who's listening nowadays.

With 02 back on the board, they were this close to rendering Unit-01 nonessential. Achingly close. If they didn't flat-out destroy their rivals, they could at least acquire the resources to put their other Units on par with the JNDA's 'spear.' Then its pilot could rest at last, no longer the cornerstone of their future.

Given enough time, and with improvements to Ritsuko's new system, maybe they could dismantle Unit-01 without any risk of the Eva going rogue and killing them all, and even salvage Yui Ikari in the process. Misato had a thing or two to say to that woman, however hypocritical it might be of her.

But that would have to come later, as Ritsuko said. Storms were gathering quickly.

Dr. Ikari contemplated his own set of Ayanami's data. The whole, uncensored secret of her birth, nature, and history.

Had Akagi been so evasive about her latest work due to caution, spite, or something else altogether? It was hard to say. She was an expert deceiver, and more than a little unstable—

—The enormous graveyard underneath his feet, an eternal, endless field of cyclopean corpses stretching far out of sight—

—In the massive tank, soulless giggles resounded from all sides. Bleeding, crumbling limbs and organs and faces floated in the liquid—

—The faux-blonde pathetically collapsed to her knees and begged for death—

His first initiation.

He winced and gripped his head.

...

Have we come full circle? Have you come up with yet another way of mixing the human and the divine, Dr. Akagi? Another way to chain a god in our image?

His gaze drifted to the crucifix under the lamp.

How blasphemous.

...

Could it be that you fear your new creation?

But it might just make a retrieval from 01 viable. That made it top priority.

Whatever the Subcommander's twisted logic was, she would only let him and Kyoko Soryu meet and investigate ADNAE if she thought they wouldn't be able to crack it. Between that, the increasing hostility of their rivals' posturing and rhetoric, and the EDD's generally frantic pace, it seemed that time really was short.

He put the binder aside. It was of limited use. He had more than raw data to work with. But he would still need firsthand observations.

They would have to work very quickly. The clock was ticking. It might already be just a few minutes to midnight.

He pulled a small book out from his desk.

Central Dogma, Layer 65

June 6, 2018; 1900 Hours

In the dingy, claustrophobic main room, the two sat across from each other at the table. The lightbulb above them was pathetic; somehow, it made the room more depressing than if it were simply pitch black. Rei's crutch rested against her chair.

Rei was terribly pale. Loose, mismatched secondhand clothes hung off her thin but slowly growing frame.

Shinji wasn't much better himself, his lone eye dark and hollow, his shoulders slumped. Bandages encased his left arm down to his elbow. His hand was tightly wrapped as well; no matter what the doctors tried, that wound wouldn't completely close.

Nonetheless, they had survived this long, and finally met for the first time since…well, before everything had gone so horribly wrong. Their hardships, etched deeply into their lean, more mature features, now highlighted their physical resemblance.

Their kinship still didn't make things easy. It had probably been about ten minutes since he'd come in, and neither had said anything yet. They just…sat there. He fiddled with the keycard the Subcommander had given him. He'd been allotted no more than an hour to visit, and under video and audio surveillance. Sensitive, important questions were off the table.

Finally, the silence was too much. He had truly wanted this, and wouldn't allow his apathy or his fear to ruin it.

"...Are you okay?"

She blinked once and, after gently testing her vocal cords, croaked out a reply. Her eyes moved away from him.

"Split…A war outside, a war inside."

He nodded.

"Maybe they'll let us go out for a walk sometime." His eye darted to where she was looking—had she seen something, seen a threat?

No, nothing there.

She shook her head slowly, drawing his attention back. Her long blue hair, now grown out almost to waist level, didn't move much because of how matted and neglected it was.

"I mustn't be vulnerable. Can't be taken to her. End of the endless."

"...You were created for a purpose," he said, leaning forward. One of his legs was nervously jittering a little.

"Obsolete…No finality remains, no purpose." A bit of melancholy crept into her monotone.

"You can find one." Even if only to pass the time.

"In the shoreless sea, little islands rebound forever. A time to gather stones, a time to scatter them."

A nebulous response to his every lame attempt at chatting. Then there was only one real course to take. He took a shaky breath.

"…I've missed you, Ayanami."

That got through. The name. The name that signified the entity Rei Ayanami. The entity which looked back at him and seemed a little more present.

"I am glad that you have come," she whispered.

–––

Quietly, and with many long pauses and breaks in the conversation, the siblings tried to catch up. Besides their natural reticence, Rei was impeded by her labyrinthine mind and brief but powerful migraines, Shinji by his constantly overwrought nerves and paranoia of the dim corners of the room.

Shinji had expected to do most of the talking, but to his surprise, while Rei was confined bodily, she had been quite adventurous mentally. Although complex and often almost incomprehensible, her musings were still vastly more interesting to him than trying to recount all of the bloodshed, or his own strenuous studies in the hard sciences.

When they got to the subject of philosophy, Rei gestured to the plain metal bookshelf on one side of the room, stuffed with volumes of ancient writings Dr. Akagi had provided. Her crimson eyes lit up a little with something like contentment or pride. A bit of warmth and accomplishment in these otherwise barren rooms. That made Shinji feel…happy for her.

"Are any of them…true?" he eventually asked hesitantly.

"True? What is 'true'?"

Shinji carefully thought about how to phrase his answer.

"Something that explains…why we were made, what we are, what our purpose is," he said, giving her a meaningful look.

For a long time, she studied him silently, working over his question, and occasionally wincing or clutching at her head in the pangs of a migraine. She took a corner of her bottom lip into her mouth and worked at it as if deep in thought.

Finally, she seemed to decide upon an answer.

Instead of speaking, she picked up her crutch and shuffled over to the bookshelf, her back to Shinji and to the cameras. Her thin legs quaked as she stood there. Leaning fully onto her support to free up a hand, she took out a slim, beige book from an upper shelf. She bent her head over it, quickly paged through and, after a slight pause, dog-eared a page.

After shakily returning to the table, Rei still ventured no answer. Instead, she took the keycard Shinji had put aside, placed it atop the plain-looking volume, and offered both to him.

"Our time is up. Here is the key, and a book," she said simply, holding his gaze for a lingering moment. At the same time, a sharp knock resounded on the outer door.

As she spoke, he noticed that one corner of Rei's mouth was a little bloodied, as if she'd bitten it.

Shinji got up and accepted the items. But before leaving, he hesitated, struck by a sudden urge.

It would be best to carry on as usual, to keep people at arm's length. Protect them from himself and stay detached so it was easier to do what he had to.

Professor Fuyutsuki had recently explained basic AT Field theory to him. To Shinji, it seemed good. It kept people safe from each other. He just wished his own was stronger, like an Angel's: a true force field. Isolation: painful, but utterly necessary.

But always staying away was just impossible, wasn't it? He was only human. His resolve came and went.

Even if it was only right, it was so hard to be alone…

He reached over and fretfully rested his bandaged left hand on her bony shoulder. It was warm.

"Thank you…Rei," he said, managing a genuine, if subtle, smile. She returned it.

As he left, he looked at his remaining natural hand and remembered the night he burned it on Unit-00's Entry Plug in his rush to see if his sister was okay.

–––

Before he went home, Dr. Akagi checked the book Rei had lent him for any kind of writing. She gave up upon seeing nothing unusual, seeming too exhausted to scan for anything besides annotations or messages.

Despite being entrusted with overseeing Rei, the Subcommander seemed absolutely reluctant to have anything to do with her, or even to touch her belongings.

At home, the first thing Shinji did was crack open the book, no, the 'key' Rei had offered: a translation of De Rerum Natura by Lucretius. It was nicely made, printed on thick pages somewhat like vellum.

Flipping to the page she had marked, his eye lit upon a passage:

"If the living power of the soul only enters

When the body itself is fully formed,

When we are born and cross life's threshold,

Then it hardly seems right that it would need to grow

Alongside the body just as the limbs do.

No, the whole body always thrums with sensation;

And the soul is intertwined all throughout

Its veins and bones and guts."

Upon closer inspection, the earmarked corner of the page was a little darkened. Unfolding the bit of rough, sturdy paper, Shinji recognized the stain as a drop of blood.

...

He did not sleep that night.

Soul intertwined…

Kyoko sat down at her cluttered work station with a heavy sigh and regarded the enormous binder.

There were three things to do now, besides the scheduled work for Unit-02: One, figure out what all this data could mean; two, find the actual ADNAE and at least chart out its parts; third…somehow discover the connection. Hopefully Dr. Ikari would help with that last one.

Despite how conflicted her first impressions were, he was right about one thing: there were too many secrets afoot here. For now, she could only try to uncover a few and pray he didn't have too many himself.

A promise, Dr. Ikari? I've also made a promise. I hope they don't conflict.

The one thing she couldn't get out of her mind was that crucifix…

–––

Across the room, Asuka frowned at her mother and her new reading material. It must've been from Ikari. Something about that new piece that had Kyoko worried?

Then he knew something about 02 that Asuka didn't. And if she was really in charge, that would not do.

…She'd find out about it one way or another.

On the back wall of the lab, a clock tracked the passing seconds.

Tick…Tock…Tick…Tock…

End Act One