Chapter 5: Breakout

Shinji's hands settled around the induction levers – all of his readings were within tolerance, harmonics in resonance. Synchronization holding at a measly 53.1%. A full eight points lower than Asuka's.

"Well, well, look who decided to join us," she said, popping up on his Plug-HUD as if summoned. "The Mighty Third Child, too good to bother with sync tests, is going to sortie with us."

Misato spoke as his mouth opened. "Keep the battle circuit clear unless necessary."

Asuka turned her nose at that. "Hmph." Then, with a pointed look at him, threw out her tongue. To which his upper lip tugged in a silent snarl – though her feed winked out before it could be much of one.

He stared at the spot her face had been. Eight points. Shinji imagined she was over the moon about that – not that Asuka needed a reason to belittle him in front of people. Really, the sad state of his rate was just icing on the cake, he was sure.

Shinji opened a private link to Rei's plug.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, more to say something than because he didn't already know. Several cuts still cracked the white of her face and the rims of her eyes were dark. She leaned forward in the command chair and winced.

"Your bruises?"

She shook her head. "They are not so severe," she said.

Shinji hummed, looking off into Unit-01's cage. At least the LCL was usually kind to injuries. Although from the few times he'd had to test after a fight, he knew they soured with synchronization. At least her sync-rate was low. That might help some.

"Ready?"

Another nod, which he returned, slicing the feed and settling back in his seat. As Unit-01's systems rolled further into their startup, the concert of the Eva grafted him to the chair, his arms extensions of the induction levers. A wandering hum of chords slithered tighter in rhythm at that, playing on his nerves, giving them a solid density.

LCL thrummed in his lungs.

He could do this.

Their pre-launch checklists complete, a shudder ran through him as the Eva's platform jarred into motion – taking him to the launch pads alongside Units-00 and 02.

"Civilian evacuations have been completed."

"Good, then we'll move to engage the target."

Asuka's audio came in. "What exactly are we supposed to be attacking?"

Misato appeared on their displays, the buzz of mission control bleeding through her feed. "Here's what we have."

Several panels sprang up, one of them a live feed. The thing was hard to make out in any great detail as it swam through a sea of storm clouds. What he could see – a glowing sphere, perhaps no larger than the pyramid of Headquarters – moved at what seemed a fixed height over the mountains of Japan. Surrounding it in a protective cocoon were wide, flat sheets of silver that spun and jerked in an erratic orbit. They moved like cloth might, but also bent and pleated at random, shining as though made of metal.

"The target was first spotted crossing the Sea of Japan by Chinese SSF, and then detected by MAGI a few minutes later. It's already made landfall and will be making contact with the Nagano Defense Line shortly."

Asuka's tongue clicked. "Can you make it any clearer?"

"We've tried getting closer, but it's maintaining a strict Exclusion Zone. The JSSDF has already lost a few fighters that skirted too close. As far as air support is concerned, they've pulled out of the op indefinitely."

"Is there any other data on the target?" Rei asked.

"Nothing relevant to the operation. We'll have to proceed with our usual wait-and-see approach."

"Got it."

"Roger."

At last his Eva reached the launch bay, locking into its berth with powerful tremors. He felt the tethers run sharper through him, taking the pieces of his consciousness that drifted in the link and yanking.

A shrill siren sounded in the bay as the launch routes were cleared. Unit-02 shot upward. Followed by Unit-00.

Then him.

Unit-01 thundered topside in short order, an AW MK II sniper rifle rolling up the deployment chute beside it. He snared it in the Eva's grip and entered Tokyo-3's deserted streets, out by the northern slopes of the caldera. The targeting system linked with his plug and he did a brief system check, glancing again at his sync gauge on the command console. Stable, for now. Harmonics in resonance.

Doctor Akagi came into freq. "Be advised, PWM concentrations have been steadily increasing since the Angel's approach. Proceed with caution."

"Understood." Rei said.

"Screw that," Asuka huffed under her breath.

His plug cable cleared, he maneuvered Unit-01 through the city blocks. Command, with their bird's eye view, highlighted the desired position with a waypoint. While en route, he keyed the system commands and patched into The JSSDF IFF network. The Air Force had cleared the skies alright, not even VTOL craft dared patrol the outskirts of the Angel's mass. Only the drones pinged on his display, far off.

Thunder rolled over the hills, on the unfriendly side of the mountains. Dark clouds bulged and cracked.

Once at his post, Shinji sat Unit-01 – its back braced against a highway bridge – in a firing position like he'd been taught: ankles crossed, knees out wide and elbows resting atop them, stock at the crease under his shoulder. Unit-01's shoulder.

"Ninety seconds to contact."

His lips pursed. "Here it comes."

Shinji found Unit-02's marker, dead center of the projected attack vector, and followed it up. Ripples traveled through the stormy sky. Targeting markers sparked across it, erratic and confused – TARGET DESIGNATE: SANDALPHON(?)

"How's our barrier?"

"Still holding. The MAGI can't seem to get a target tag."

"Open the conditions, have it grasp onto the highest output."

"All units expand your A.T. Fields, shrink the Exclusion Zone."

Shinji did so, leaning forward and focusing himself outward, as if an unseen part of him were being thrust into being. The pressure of the Eva at the base of his skull became lighter. Warmth beat from the plug-depth, the command suite sinking into it a little more. Shinji watched the gauge flutter.

Outside his Eva, temperatures spiked. Trees crashed and bristled. Heat waves shook the air, and beyond the mountains the Angel breached a swell of clouds – its metallic ribbons fighting an ethereal wind.

Rei watched the distance tracker on her target fall rapidly, the computer imaging of the Plug-HUD blurring every so often while fireflies danced in rhythm with her heartbeat. Every inch of her tingled, caught in the nebulous feeling of being stretched out, plying pressure to the bruised tissue.

Soon, the Angel would be in range.

"Aoba, roll out the welcome mat."

From behind her, cruise missiles launched in swarms towards the Angel and Tokyo-3's horde of heavy caliber artillery guns let loose a drumroll of fire, long seconds between each salvo as auto-loaders filled them for the next shot. Most impacted, leaving visible scoring that dissipated seconds later, and others missed due to the unpredictable twists and folds of its ribbon.

Unit-00 stayed locked, the onboard computer making the slight adjustments needed to keep her weapon on point.

Then, the barrage stopped.

"Target in range."

"A.T. fields have made contact."

"All units, execute."

The frame of her rifle trembled as she released a controlled burst. Across from her, Rei caught a stream of light, followed by the buzz of Unit-02's rifle. Her bolts impacted the burning core. Shinji's rounds splashed into it a moment later. Smoke dispersed in the wind, revealing the core without a scratch on it.

"What?!" Soryu balked, sending another hail of fire. "Isn't that the core?"

The Angel encroached unhindered.

"Unit-two, keep expanding your field, Unit-zero will move in to support you."

"I can do it myself!" Unit-02 advanced, tossing an empty mag. Earth cracked at her feet. "There, I'm at maximum."

Rei started to move, carefully so as not to lose the unit's footing on the ridge. Two more bolts came from the other side of the caldera, Unit-01's marker shaking. One round glanced the top of the orb, the other ricocheting off a plated tendril with an ear-ringing 'twang'.

Light speared at them as a tendril snapped in Unit-01's direction, catching the sun in its silver surface. Pointed to a blade-like tip, it dragged through earth and trees and ripped into Shinji's position.

The marker stayed green as the ribbon arced around, making a dive for Unit-02, which rolled from the path.

"My rifle's gone." Shinji snarled.

"There's another coming your way, marked on your HUD. Get there."

"The Angel is about to cross over Muradake!"

"All units, fall back to your secondary positions! FPF-one inbound!"

Over another frequency, an operator called in the fire barrier. Clouds of flame burst over the form of the Angel as artillery batteries on the other side of the lake rained down their payloads. The ones that missed threw up fountains of earth, the rattling 'whumps' of the gun pieces reaching them moments after.

They dispersed a cloud of black smoke over the retreating Evas, so thick that Rei didn't see the Angel's tendril until a proximity warning told her it was right on top of her.

"We've lost contact with Unit-zero."

Shinji's fingers ran cold, but he had to keep moving. The Angel's ribbon was arcing around for another pass.

"Her suit is still transmitting. Vitals are green."

Gun fire reports reached him in the plug, all with the same result – an unscathed core. Shinji glanced at his A.T. field readings: high output, but fluctuating, no exclusion zone, and the bubble was declining fast, collapsing in isolated pockets.

There was a tug on his spine as he pulled the induction levers, swinging his Eva around. He was on the outskirts of the city now, and braced Unit-01's back against a deployment block, foot planting firm into one of the taller buildings. Shinji let the targeter lock and hurled another two rounds at the core. Deeper in Tokyo-3's central blocks Asuka fired a burst, six rounds, which arrived simultaneously with his second shot.

Again, the core was pristine.

"Why can't we damage it?!"

"My rifle's no good."

"So do something about it!"

Reflected light bit into his eyes before a retort could answer, the proximity alert sounding on his left. Unit-01 twisted and pulled back, the Angel's ribbon crashing through the building he'd been using for support. A stabbing pressure hit him as his Eva completed its fall and caved-in an apartment complex, sniper rifle rolling into a public park and dashing the stone fountains.

Unit-01's prog-knife came free as he stood, gripped back-handed, just as the massive sheet of metal turned and closed on him. Shinji's heart tried to hammer out of his chest. Timed against the impulse lag, Unit-01 pivoted back and to the side as the ribbon would have cut into him, meeting his blade instead. A screeching like nails on glass blew out his audio-receivers as the blade sliced clean into the tendril. The thing diverted its course, but not before the prog-knife managed to cut through a quarter of the sheet.

Audio returned at the tail end of a shriek – and the ribbon withdrew sharply, its length squirming as it returned to coil around the red sphere. The Angel wrapped its metallic arms around itself in a ball. By now, it had come to sit over Tokyo-3 proper.

Light shifted, descending with the harsh burn of twilight. As though pulled by strings, the buildings tugged into the sky, their towering forms inverted.

Shinji wasn't sure when, but at some point, command had ordered another fire barrier. Hatches burst open along the skyscraper rooves and missiles streaked from their chambers. Autocannons fired from inter-city railway mountings and sent HE rounds barreling skyward.

Following their path, Shinji looked up – and there was Tokyo-3 above him. The buildings stretched seamlessly from the peaks of the city, with nothing but a blazing afternoon sky in place of any ground floor or an Angel.

Proximity alerts blared, just before the city works around Unit-01 shattered into small pockets of flame. They rattled him in the plug and Shinji braced, searching for a target above. Unit-02 disappeared from his Tactical, the word LOST flashing over the way marker alongside Rei's.

"Fire Control–"

"All of the solutions MAGI gave us were correct!"

"Is it using its A.T. field to repel attacks?"

In a wash of color, the reflection vanished – and the Angel's silver armored unfurled, the ribbons snaking back and forth like a viper might. They lanced out, streaking for Unit-01 and pile-driving into concrete and metal as the Eva threw itself out of the way. His Plug-HUD locked onto a weapons depot, not far – armament inbound.

Gunfire rattled. Another splitting scream. Then the ribbons yanked back, coiling once more. The reflection returned.

Shutters sprang open as a fresh pallet rifle arrived. Targeting synced with his Plug-HUD as he took it in Unit-01's grasp. Shinji aimed down the narrow corridor above, where he remembered the Angel last, and opened fire. No sooner had the burst left the nozzle than bolts came plowing into Unit-01's armor. Shinji dropped to a knee and on thought impulse lifted the Eva's right arm to shield its head, the uranium depleted rounds pounding slag craters across the forearm plating.

Damage indicators flared.

"Where is it?"

The sky returned, streaks of silver snapping at sunlight as they sliced for what he assumed to be Asuka's position. Or Rei's.

Shinji hurled a volley at it, three of the rounds striking a distant tendril. Resistance from the umbilical pulled at his back. With a curse, he doubled back down his previous route, wondering if he'd run the umbilical line – only to find it buried in rubble several blocks down. "Damn." Ejecting the jack, he moved Unit-01 for the nearest connection port along his route. Another stream of fire punched the Angel's red core as he jammed in a new umbilical, smashing two of the connection prongs in his haste.

A yellow triangle sprang up on his left, followed by the five-minute battery timer – Warning: Low-Pwr. The numbers ticked down, but slowly. Afternoon spilled over the air again, the inverted city glaring down at him.

"The target has reestablished an Exclusion Zone – our grid is maxed."

"We're not making a scratch on that core!"

"Hang on!" Shinji tried to envision where he'd seen the Angel, over what cluster of buildings, bounding his Eva to the central block of the city. When he felt he was under the Angel's position, he planted Unit-01's feet wide.

"Expanding A.T. field!"

The gauge shot up. His command suite sank ever further into the plug-depth. Forces moved against each other, hexagonal waves flashing in brief optical tears. A sound like shattering glass fell over the valley, a ripple washing through the sky. The reflection stuttered.

Whether by trust or instinct, or simply out of any other ideas, Misato was quick on her order.

"SAMs - now!"

Guided missiles packed with HE charges streaked for the opening. Veins bulged along his forehead, ready to pop, weight pummeling down on his neck and shoulders. A shower of dizziness fell over him. His A.T. gauges made frantic pings at the height of their trackers, and when Shinji dropped – grasping his chest because it felt like all of him had been spilled out – so did his field.

The sky mended. A warbling hum vibrated the air, the buildings tugged in a reflection – just before the SAMs would have made contact. They were swallowed in the reflection, raining down on the city a moment later. Shinji hunkered Unit-01 between a weapons depot and industrial block, just as the missiles impacted.

When the smoke and debris settled, all remained still for a moment.

"Any eyes on Rei?"

"On your six, Unit-one."

Shinji could barely make out the words, as though she were speaking to him underwater. Unit-01 turned to find her there, a rifle still in her hands, though it didn't look like it could fire another shot. Her unit was a bit torn up, but otherwise intact. His vision swam.

"Misato, what should we do?"

Red blurred across his field of view as Unit-02 dashed by, a fresh positron in its grip.

"Asuka, wait!"

Her unit took the same stance he had moments ago, positron muzzle aimed skyward. A pulse of nausea struck him as her A.T. field washed over his, expanding. When that reached its threshold, the reflection started to crack – but it didn't break. Asuka didn't wait, spitting two beams of light skyward.

Those two bolts came back to split clean through her shoulder and leg. A holler. Unit-02 collapsed to one knee. Lying in wait, the reflection dropped, ribbons already unfurled and sweeping towards them. Unit-02 caught one in the leg, the Eva's movement stuttering from the shot that had just burst its knee to hot pulp. The ribbon sliced through its upper thigh armor, just about shearing the appendage off.

Damage reports piled on top of each other.

Shinji stood Unit-01, stock of the pallet rifle braced into its shoulder as he walked the Eva and held the trigger. A line of rounds peppered the Angel's ribbon. Shinji was close enough that most of the mag hit its mark. The silver arm recoiled.

"Rei, take my rifle," he said. Unit-00 laid her damaged weapon at her feet and took it, turning to keep an eye on the sky, now deep red with their reflection.

Shinji came around the other side of Unit-02, which was struggling to haul itself up. He hooked his Eva's hands under the Unit's arms, interlocking them around its chest to start dragging. "Sorry, Asuka," he said. There was a catapult terminal nearby.

"Quit being useless and get me a weapon!" she bit out, trying to keep her voice from breaking.

"No. All units, withdraw. Retreat and recover to the Cages."

"Well, what's the damage so far?" Sub-Commander Fuyutsuki said, put upon, as always. The glow of the tactical table lit up their faces, Hyuga on one side monitoring Bridge communications, jotting down time stamps for status markers on the Angel. Misato, standing to his right, pointed at Aoba's station and held out her hand. The preferred report dropped into it.

"Minor damage to infrastructure: some highways, rail lines and a few hundred residential homes in the suburbs. Downtown–"

"Spare me the civil assessments – that's for the city councils to figure out. The Evas?"

Misato gave the stack back to Aoba, who was ready with another report. She scanned the sharpie highlighted lines. "Both Unit-zero and one suffered superficial damage to their armor systems, with exception to zero's communications array – totally blown out. It'll need to be gutted and replaced. Unit-two took extensive structural damage to the left leg. Full LCL bath and grafting, but the bio-layers won't be in optimal condition for at least eleven days, which will produce negative feedback during synchronization."

A corner of Fuyutsuki's mouth twitched and he searched the topographical map between them. "And what's our ability to intercept?"

"Through the floor. It's right on top of us. We can still deploy topside, but any attacks will be reflected by what Doctor Akagi has dubbed an 'inversion' field."

"Explain."

Ritsuko stepped away from Maya's terminal to join them. "So far, the Angel has been completely reactionary," she plied a few commands at the table's console, several recordings springing up. "The core has an independent relationship with the bands of material we see surrounding it, almost like they don't exist on the same wavelength at the same time – except for when this happens." She had the table display a clip of the ribbons wrapping around the core. "Here, they become one and the same. Harmonized."

"But we've made solid hits on the core," Aoba said.

Ritsuko shook her head. "Without neutralizing its field. Which only becomes possible when it folds into this defensive posture."

Fuyutsuki was half listening, mind split elsewhere. "And thus far our weapons have proved insufficient for penetrating this armor?"

"Which finally brings us to the inversion field. It isn't fault with the weapons so much as the window of time they have to strike the Angel in this state. As soon as it enters this protective cocoon, since the ribbons can clearly be seen to sustain damage," images of Unit-01's prog-knife attack and scouring from rifle fire peppered the display, "it uses its A.T. field to erect a field that reflects anything that enters, at any trajectory it chooses. Once a volley of something passes through, the field falters, but by then the Angel is ready to launch another attack. There have already been two observed instances where it has dropped the field prematurely."

"So it uses this field as a screen to recover... how long is the target window?"

"Approximately sixty-eight milliseconds according to the MAGI. Even with an opening like that, we still have to punch through its A.T. field."

Misato folded her arms. "We have to be weakening its A.T. field already, right?"

"That's not how A.T. Fields work, unfortunately." The Doctor said, her lips making a flat line.

"So why can't we breach it?"

"If we've learned anything about the Angels, it's that their A.T. field strength isn't static. The Eighth Angel's field is too strong for one Eva to neutralize the phase space – the buffer gap we call an Exclusion Zone – on its own. At least, not with the current synchronization rates."

"What would they need to be at?" Fuyutsuki asked, clasping his hands behind his back.

"One-hundred percent, but none of our pilots are even close to that."

"So they'll have to focus their fields in one area – together."

"At least two of them."

A hum of external noise engulfed the TACWAR room. Misato asked the question that was bubbling on everyone's thoughts. "Do we even have anything that can fire at that speed?" She already knew the answer, but it needed to be out there.

Aoba shrugged. "The closest we had was the US developed railgun, which is marginally better than scrap at this point."

"No chance of making it operational again?" Misato asked, nodding to Ritsuko.

"It's possible," she said after some hesitation. "Even firing at mach seven, our timing must be perfect."

"Let's assume this is our plan," Fuyutsuki released his hands, one coming up under his chin, "how do we deploy to the surface?"

"Also problematic." Ritsuko jabbed a command on the tactical map, showing NERV's network of catapult lines. "We've tested this a few times the past couple hours, launching dummy payloads. It enters a Theta State before the catapult even reaches its threshold speed – a state of wakefulness."

"Then if we launch another sortie, it will have to be outside of the Angel's operational awareness?"

"Yes. The MAGI have already calculated a series of routes we could utilize, depending on load-out."

"It looks like several of the linear carriage lines have been severed. How recent is this damage?"

Misato answered. "Only one of the lines was cut during the attack. The rest are from previous engagements we haven't been able to prioritize for repairs."

"The Committee undercuts our budget and manpower and then wonders why nothing works. The Evas can't operate without support systems." The Sub-Commander sighed, meeting her eyes. "Well, we'll just have to make do, as always Captain."

"Yes, sir."

"You made a good call pulling the units out. For now, we'll maintain Condition One alert status."

A wash of relief poured through her. Misato had taken it as a bad sign that the Commander wasn't there. He was on base at the moment, but then, he wasn't expected to be a part of mission planning – they just needed his stamp of approval. It was just anxiety getting the better of her.

"Captain," Hyuga called, turning every head in the room, "you should take a look at this."

Misato made it to his side, followed by Ritsuko. His fingers worked across the keys. "For the past hour the MAGI have been signaling cut-off errors from outlying sectors of our defense grid. Five minutes ago we received a series of disposition reports from the Ministry of Defense, and the MAGI spat this out."

Readings and analysis rolled down the screen.

"A barrier?" Ritsuko said.

"Communications seem to flow freely, but nothing physical can pass through. The MAGI surmise we've essentially been encased in a bubble."

"That's why it's entered this pseudo-dormant state," the Doctor said, facing the Sub-Commander again, "it doesn't need to do anything more than protect itself and wait us out."

"This city has enough in surplus to function on rationed portions for six months."

Misato stood straight. "Can it afford to wait that long?"

"Considering that an Angel's S-two Engine is a source of unlimited power – it could wait as long as it likes."

"So we have to deploy inside the perimeter."

A gap of humming terminals filled the space between them. Fuyutsuki straightened, releasing another sigh through his nose. "I have to go contact the civil committee, and every other government official within a thirty-kilometer radius." He smoothed a hand through his gray hair and clasped his hands behind his back, turning to Misato before he reached the door. "I expect a full assessment and operation briefing in the next four hours."

The he was gone.

Everyone waited, having done enough mission planning with her by now to know – the first few minutes of silence were vital.

Misato went back to Hyuga's station, gripping the back of his chair. "Get our head of engineering on the line."

It was three hours later that Misato briefed them in one of the Ready Rooms and gave them each mission packets to study for the op. Asuka flipped through the pages, expression blank, harder to read thanks to the aviators she had pilfered from Misato's apartment while they were cleaning. A trophy, it seemed.

"Where are we going to stay?" Shinji asked.

Misato's teeth attacked her lower lip. "At home, like usual. Ritsuko says the Angel has entered a dormant state, and only becomes reactionary when Evangelions enter its field of awareness. Someone needs to look after PenPen anyway."

Shinji nodded. They had only thirty minutes ago been allowed to leave their entry plugs so the pit crews could begin proper repairs on the units. The suit sticking to his skin was revolting. It felt like LCL clung to every part of him, even after drying off. Everything smelled and tasted like metal.

Once dismissed, they returned to the lockers. With the exception of Rei, who was scheduled for the first shift in the standby rotation. Shinji dwelled on how her bruises had fared during the battle. Maybe when he came to relieve her, she would tell him how it went.

Asuka was out in the corridor when he left the lockers, getting her things together in a small duffel bag. Damp hair clung to her bare shoulders. Next to her, a fig-leaf stamped stack of papers sat at the mouth of a trash bin. Shinji stepped closer and peered in.

"You threw it away?"

"Duh."

"You barely read it."

She tossed her hair. "What's to know? I pilot my Eva and kill the Angel."

Shaking his head, he retrieved it between two fingers. "How are you going to do that?"

"Weren't you listening? I'm going to have a railgun."

"That's not what the packet says."

"What?" She spun and snatched the stack from his hands, slipping the sunglasses to the top of her head. She scanned for the right section.

"You?" Her face scrunched, and she shoved the packet against his chest. "Ugh!"

Shinji stood there as she started off, looking rather stupid as the packet flopped to the floor. Or at least, he felt stupid. Asuka had that effect on him.

"Are you coming, or what?!"

He had to jog the last stretch to catch the elevator. Asuka watched behind her aviators, unsympathetic as he jammed his hand between the closing doors and bustled in when they parted. She settled in the back corner, arms crossed, and his gut folded in on itself. The girl was upset about something. She was always upset about something. His very existence seemed to be upsetting.

At least most of the time he didn't feel like he did it on purpose. Still, it didn't seem fair to let the silence stand. It wasn't wrong for him to have the railgun position.

"I've always been a better shot than you," he said, at first to the doors.

He turned as she came at him, glasses sliding up again. She jabbed him in the chest. "That doesn't matter when a computer targeting system does all the work for you, so that can't be why. And it certainly can't be because of your sync rate. Any luck getting that back up?"

The words stung him.

Levels clicked by, and Asuka stepped away, facing the door. Her arms crossed tighter and to Shinji she looked small – at least standing between his shadow and the door.

She tossed a glance at his feet. "Just spar with me, okay?" It sounded like a plea when she said it, and though she seemed tired of him today, he trailed behind her to the gym. They hadn't sparred since he nearly broke her fingers.

After some stretching, they squared up on the mats.

Shinji stepped, fore-blocked, and sliced, but his heart wasn't in it – and she was agitated already, so he gave it to her. Several rounds went by with ease, and then several more. Red marks appeared on his arms. He made a sloppy parry and slipped in for a stab that he kind of knew he wasn't long enough to reach. Asuka stepped in, sliding his stab away, jabbing the blade into the base of his neck and then shoving him – hard.

"Come on! You're not even trying. It's pathetic."

"I am trying."

Her foot slapped the mats. "Bullshit! I don't need a pity win. If that's all you're gonna do then just go home."

Shinji sighed through his nose, picking up the blade. "Why are you so angry?"

"Just forget it," she snarled, tossing the knife. It thumped against his chest.

Asuka went to the benches, stuffing everything back into her duffel before dropping her rear on the bench to shove her shoes on. All with her back to him. Shinji took another deep draw of air, his head shaking. Bending down once more, he retrieved her blade from the floor.

There were things he thought he should say, or that might have been better off said. They vanished as soon as he remembered how much more she'd rather throw them back in his face. He thought of how she was at school, how no one ever saw her like this. Only him. If they saw her this way, they probably wouldn't be so keen to flock around her and shower her with their praise, friendship and adulation.

It seemed she was only ever this difficult when in his immediate orbit. He did something to her that no one else did, and if it was so awful, he couldn't fathom why she stuck around. He might have known why, if they'd still been friends. As it was, he couldn't tell one way or the other.

Asuka was just sitting at the bench, bag sagging limp next to her – hands holding onto the edge of the seat. Her head was hanging, and still she was facing away from him. Again, she seemed small.

Shinji swallowed, a thumb rubbing over her knife.

Every step he took was like walking through wet concrete, a familiar dread rising to choke him.

"Just go already," she said, noticing his shadow over her.

Shinji squatted. "Sorry."

"Shut up."

Again, the scalding need to keep his anger burned him. Air beat from the vents, settling over Asuka's silence. Letting his head slide, he found her bag easier to look at, lying just near his arm. A faded line cut his skin down its center, leading to his palm, where he held both of their knives.

"I just... didn't want to make you mad after today."

Asuka took in a sharp breath, then calmed, leaning back on the bench. He could tell her eyes were closed. "Please, shut up."

Shinji stood, offering the knife. "Come on, let's just spar some more."

Her head swiveled, regarding the blade, then she turned fully and snatched it from him. "Fine. But if you lose on purpose again, you'll regret it."

Shinji decided to take the threat seriously, despite the lack of any real conviction behind it. At least, conviction as he had come to recognize it from Asuka.

He won the first few easy going matches as they settled into a rhythm again. Then she became serious, and the sight of it filled him with as much exhaustion as excitement. Bouts lasted only seconds as they traded wins and losses. Asuka was impatient for a streak, growling with each defeat. They seemed to feed her, to lump more coal on whatever fire she used to fight through her fatigue and win. There was no rest between matches. It wasn't long before each were taking ragged gasps. Another scuffle like the last seemed inevitable.

"Last one?" he breathed.

She nodded. "Loser buys drinks."

Starting out, they circled one another for a time, occasionally jerking with false movements – to see if they could draw a reaction out of the other. A real fight didn't really look like this, they knew. But both of them just so happened to really want to win – and winning meant playing around with the other, until they made a mistake. One big enough to hurt.

She switched to an ice pick grip, because it was the easiest way to hook and cut at the same time. Shinji kept the hammer grip, where he was comfortable, and where he had a bit of range. He flicked his blade out several times, trying to catch her on a hand or wrist. For once, Asuka was patient, and timed one of his jabs – hooking it with her right arm before he could draw it back in. His knife-hand was drawn down as she scooped it, her other hand grabbing his while her wrist snapped down on the flat of his blade – knocking it out of his grip. But she'd slipped up: instead of taking the chance to cut him, she'd disabled him.

Lashing out with his left hand, he snatched her knife arm while it was down. Asuka twisted out, but Shinji pulled her with his right hand, still in her grasp, and made her stumble in front of him.

Still, he was weaponless, and Asuka's blade came back up, even though he was still right on top of her. Shinji used his left forearm to scoop her knife-hand away, right hand shooting out to push her and create some distance. It landed on her chest, soft.

By then he was dead.

He'd frozen, a fatal pause that allowed her to jab him in the gut. Her other hand planted itself on his face and pushed. Shinji stumbled, wondering when she would implode, if his hand had landed where he thought it had landed.

Asuka ambled away towards the benches with a simple, "I win," and nothing else.

Shinji bought her a coke and himself a green tea. The bitter taste had grown on him.

"You have the next shift, right?"

They were out in one of the lounges, cooling down. Shinji slipped the packet from his bag, flipping to the stand-by rotations. "Yeah, in... nine hours."

"Hm." Asuka found other pieces of the lounge to look at while upside down in her chair, hair nearly touching the floor. Really, everywhere but him. "With the city on lock-down, I don't really have anything to do."

Shinji took a long draw of tea. Asuka's feet kicked. He leaned back and let his head fall, giving himself a view of the magnificent egg-white ceiling.

"I can ask–

"I just let Misato know."

Shinji shot up, finding her still upside down, but with a phone in her hands. "Oh, alright." He stood up then, tea can emptied, and slipped his duffel bag on. "Text me when you're on the way over."

Asuka rolled upright. "Just come with me to my place so I can grab some stuff. I don't need a lot."

This turned out to be the greatest lie Shinji had ever been told.

What should have been maybe a 10-minute excursion to her apartment turned into an hour. During which Asuka talked the entire time. Or it felt like it, packing a pair of suitcases, washing up in the bathroom, sending him on an impossible search for a hairbrush and a particular lip gloss she was always misplacing.

The place was about as dysfunctional as Misato's room. Nothing had a secure home and was tossed about as needed. Were all girls this messy? Asuka's room had always been so prim and clean when they were kids. This couldn't be the same girl – and she had the gall to call him messy.

Tempted to goad her over it, he glanced around the living room again, settling on the closed door to her room. A shadow cut the small sliver of light at the bottom as she changed. He turned away.

Beside him on the kitchen counter top, just by the fridge, were cases of coffee and energy drinks. Dirty dishes were piled up in the sink – on both sides. Most of the cabinets were empty. Across the way in the living room, magazines and even some manga were sprawled over the coffee table, neither looking like they had been touched much. Empty noodle cartons sat stacked atop them. The place was... stifling and ached of something. Thoughts of his apartment, dark and bloated with trash, returned.

She was living here all on her own.

That was something Shinji had known, ever since she had come to see him in the hospital after their first battle together. Still, seeing it made his heart sink.

She'd been alone in Heidelberg too.

Shinji shook his head.

No, she had Kaji while she was there, right? Asuka liked spending her time with him. Meanwhile, he was just sort of there. But perhaps that was better than no one. That's just kind of the way it'd always been.

"Are you ready, or what?"

Shinji jumped. Turning, he spotted her down the hallway by the front door, unsure when she had passed him. Asuka handed him the larger of the two suitcases, which he took without complaint, though she caught the face he made.

"Oh, shut up. You're a boy, aren't you?"

He shuffled out behind her. "I just don't understand why you need all this stuff."

She flicked his nose. "You don't need to."

Once back at his apartment, Shinji brought out a spare futon and some blankets, trying not to remember that there was an Angel floating over their heads. While Asuka made a space for herself in the living room, he closed the blinds. Save for street and support lights – winking at the tops of buildings – the city was dark.

So they sat in the dark too, until the quiet began to bother Asuka and she told him to turn the TV on. Harsh light splashed the room, a late-night game show making enough noise that they didn't feel alone, and he lounged on one side of the futon. His shift started in seven and a half hours, so he set an alarm on his phone for 5:20, trying not to mourn the utter lack of sleep he would be getting that night. Maybe they would let him nap in the Cages while he waited for something to happen.

"You ever think about home much?" Asuka asked. He looked at her, the flicker of the TV screen lighting up her face.

"I haven't for a while," he said, laying his head back to take in the ceiling. "But I think I miss it."

"You think?" She asked, glancing down at him. The offense in her tone was unmistakable. His mouth twitched with an almost-smile.

"I do." And it was true. He probably felt more at home back in Germany than he ever would in Japan. Hearing the language was something he missed, more than he thought possible when he spoke it again for the first time in a year. He missed the feel of Berlin, how every brick and lamp post carried a history – and quiet, sleepy Bernau. Traveling down the dirt roads to the train station. Riding it with Asuka to the Kloster in the mornings. The musty smell of the churches. Cool shade under the trees.

They talked about what they might do once the war was over, though neither were so inventive that they suggested a life without the Evas. Until Asuka took it off the table.

"Let's just say they defund NERV and put the Evas on ice or whatever. That wouldn't happen, but what would you do then?"

"I dunno. I might join the military, become a fighter pilot or something."

"Didn't you want to play in concerts? You've still got your cello, right?"

"Yeah, that's true." Even though he hadn't played for over six months.

"Besides," she went on, "being a fighter pilot requires study and, you know, hard work. Something you obstinately refuse to do."

Obstinately. What a very Asuka word. He might have even laughed, but he couldn't deny that her observation brought with it an inflection of truth. Nor did he want to confirm it. For a while, he just watched the wheel on the TV spin, until at last it stopped.

"I just don't care," he said, letting out the deep breath he'd been holding in. She didn't seem to know how to respond to that.

The live audience cheered.

"Of course you don't," she said.

They succumbed to the bright cacophony of colors and faces on the screen. The wheel spun and spun. Blinking became a chore, commercials lasted longer than the show and at some point, his head had fallen off the hand he'd propped up on an elbow. The futon was inviting and soft. Asuka's legs were in view, hugged close to her person.

"Hey... Shinji?"

"Hnh?" Eyes heavy. Could sink into his breathing. Indistinct images ballooned. She asked him something, or his mind was beginning to dream – he understood the words, and they made sense, but he couldn't have told anyone what they were.

Because by then he was already well on his way to sleep.

Misato wasn't sleeping at home again and she saw in his expression that was worrying him. Were the towering weight of her career not teetering on the edge of a knife with this mission, that might have been a nice thought. Especially after the last few months.

Shinji set two cold coffee cans down on her commandeered desk within TacWar Room 1. The very same space she and her team had briefed Sub-Commander Fuyutsuki days earlier. That was just the routine, at least when an op lasted longer than the initial sortie. Misato wasn't one to leave or sleep soundly while others worked, not when she was expected to direct it all. Otherwise she wouldn't be caught anywhere near Headquarters while off the clock.

So Shinji's delivery of caffeine blasted with sugar and B12 was a sweet gift. Though a beer might have been better.

"Thanks, kiddo," she said, cracking one open and taking a hefty swig.

He squatted, folding his arms on the table and resting his chin atop that. "Want anything else?"

A shake of her head, accompanied by a smile. Dressed in his plugsuit, she was reminded of his testing days with Gehirn at Lichtenburg – spinning in the control room chairs when he was bored, or trying desperately to decipher the readings from a tech's terminal. It had been so easy to tease him then, before he'd gotten all moody and serious.

"How is she?"

One of his eyebrows quirked. "The... Eva?"

"Huh? No, Asuka. Why would I be asking about the Eva?" She laughed, nudging her head. "Ritsuko is right there."

Shinji made a grimace and shrugged, thoroughly embarrassed. From another corner of the room their technician on observation duty, Hyuga, offered him a sympathetic smile. The man's eyes met hers and she nodded.

"Hey, Shinji," he said, standing from his terminal, "it's about time for my cage inspection with maintenance today, why don't you come with?"

The boy blinked, standing. "Sure Makoto."

Her tech shrugged on a bright orange nylon jacket and tucked his PDA under one arm, while Shinji jumped up to join him.

"Hey, you finished that manga I loaned you, right?" Hyuga asked, nudging his arm as they made for the door.

Shinji's face lit up. "Oh, yeah! I wasn't expecting it to end that way. I thought Keiji and Rita were going to figure some way out together."

A shrug. "There was no other way to end the loop. One of them had to die."

"Yeah, I guess... I just didn't think he would actually do it. Though I like that he painted his exoskeleton blue to remember her by."

Misato leaned back in her chair. "Don't forget to fill out your post-watch checklist before you leave!"

Shinji waved a hand. "Yes, ma'am!"

The door hissed shut after them, closing the two women in darkness again, which glowed with isolated civilizations of keyboard and terminal light. Wasn't that selfish of her. She'd rather have him whisked away than have him around for more than a few minutes. Even if it might've been in silence. There was too much work to be done, even if she was sitting in during her off hours, unpaid. Maybe neither of them was quite ready for casual conversation anyway. The trust wasn't there like it used to be.

Misato turned right into Ritsuko's eyes. The woman had been able to read her since the first day they met. If she wanted, she could pay Misato back for the underhanded comment she'd delivered before the Angel attack. It was well within her right.

Ritsuko's hair swayed as her attention withdrew, one hand typing at her terminal, while the other held up a PDA for reference.

"It seems you two are on better terms. You've made up, then?"

Misato smirked, leaning back as far as the chair would allow. "I think. I don't really know."

"He's started bringing you gifts. Peace offerings. That's a step in the right direction."

It would have been nice to agree, but she kept the thought to herself. Their attentions drifted apart for a time.

Ritsuko sighed, setting her PDA aside. "Well, I've just finished speaking to the Crew Chiefs. There's a problem."

"There always is," Misato said, priming a pen and taking a gulp of coffee. Back to business. "What is it?"

Ritsuko let her glasses drop on their beaded lanyard. "We don't have the resources to fully restore the armor to pre-battle condition."

"What do you mean? We've always done it before." Her pen clicked.

"We've always had access to the other branches before." Ritsuko paused, anticipating another question. There was another click. "Evangelions are sheathed in an ablative weave, with more vital areas encased in titanium alloy, and a tungsten alloy over the chest plating for additional protection to the core unit."

Misato leaned her head against a fist. "Yeah, I know the specs."

"Then you know how expensive it is to utilize these metals in such obscene quantities, not even counting production of the rest of the series."

"Right, but Section four has their own manufacturing plants."

"Raw materials are still limited. From what they've told me, under normal circumstances they would submit material or parts requests with our support branches depending on what repairs need to be made before putting in an order with a manufacturer. It's a waste to dump time and money into casting armor that may never need to be replaced. Especially with a metal as expensive as titanium. So I'm told."

Misato would have liked to rip all of her hair out. "The armor always needs to be replaced." She folded her arms on her desk and let her head fall on them. Deep breath, then a sigh. "What do we have on hand?"

"Enough spare pieces and materials to patch up Unit-two's chassis and Unit-one's arm."

"Well, that's just perfect." The former had sustained the most damage out of the Evas, aside from Unit-00, the repairs for which would have to be pushed back even further because of Unit-01. Zero's Cage crew was going to have a fit. She picked herself up.

"Well, on top of that wonderful news, I've got to go meet with Yamazaki so he can give me the latest update."

"Have fun," Ritsuko sang. Misato chugged her coffee in record time.

"We're thirteen percent ahead of schedule." Yamazaki's hands slipped along the hips of his jumpsuit, startled at not finding pockets. A frown tugged at his bulldog face, sagging with age, and he folded his arms as they walked the command deck.

"Power supply is still our biggest constraint," he said, pointing to pieces of data on the PDA in Misato's hand. "We've had to cannibalize some of the spare batteries for the Evas."

"How many is some?"

"Do you really want to know?" Her expression told him she didn't, not now at least, and he shrugged. She had, after all, given him leave to appropriate whatever was necessary. "If it's going to fire as fast as you need, there must be as much electrical energy moving through it as possible."

Misato nodded, unable to hide a grimace. A skeleton crew of technicians manned their stations, many others dark for the night.

She fixed him with a look. "And?"

Yamazaki stared somewhere across the command deck; his voice hushed. "The gun will likely only survive one shot," he said. They kept their pace, slow and easy. "It will fire again, but not at the necessary muzzle velocity. It'll just get worse after every shot until the rails push each other apart because the electric currents are melting the damn thing."

"Why did you leave that out of your assessments?"

"Would it have made a difference? You wouldn't have taken this up if it wasn't our most viable option. Morale is low enough as it is."

As much as she wanted to be annoyed, she could agree with his reasoning. Everyone just needed to believe the gun could work. That meant there was another layer of pressure resting on Shinji's shoulders, a weight he didn't even know was there.

"Whatever it takes," she said, and handed Yamazaki the PDA. "We'll adjust the operation guidelines. Have it ready."

Her senior by a number of years, the man held himself back at her tone. They were all tired, and NERV wasn't the place for bickering over showing proper deference. He nodded and made his way off the deck. Checking her watch, she would only be ten minutes behind him before Deck Officer Mibu came to relieve her. It would be about time for Asuka's rotation too.

Looking up, a sliver of red caught her eye, peeking out at the edge of the command tower.

"Asuka?"

The girl managed not to flinch, head turning away, before she spun out of cover. "Just came to check-in, as usual," she said, hands knitted behind her back. She looked off at the maps projected beyond the command deck, a somber pout playing on her face. A mind like Asuka's needed to be occupied.

Misato studied her. "Good timing. I'm just about out for today."

There was no reaction beyond a slight nod as Asuka walked with long, playful steps, eyes still somewhere else. In fact, they were not looking at her at all. Perhaps because the girl knew that Misato had the ability to see something there she might not want her to. The girl wore everything in her eyes, ever since she'd been just a little red tumbleweed of fury. It seemed she hadn't grown out of it.

Misato decided to leave whatever secret she was keeping be and dismissed her to the Cages. Ever punctual, Mibu arrived a few minutes later and Misato was careful not to let her shoulders slouch as she left. Not while others could see.

His apartment became the meeting place. If Asuka wasn't there, then Rei was, and vice versa. Always there was someone in his apartment. Always there was a girl.

Asuka, like she did with every place she inhabited, traipsed around like she owned the place. Eating their food, using their bathroom, pouring through the few manga he owned and even hijacking his SDAT – blowing through his tapes all day while he was on shift.

It wasn't different, her being in his space and lording over his things. It was more that she was different. He wasn't entirely sure how to approach it, or why it was so estranged and daunting. Asuka had grown slender. Every part of her was slim: from her lips, her fingers, and even her toes. Not that she didn't have muscle – he knew from experience that she did, built up from their training. What was there wasn't pronounced, just lean. And then there were parts of her that had... grown.

Even thinking about it swallowed him in an ocean of embarrassment, and he'd end up going for a walk or taking a long, cold shower trying to empty his mind and think about nothing like the monks did.

Beyond all that, he was tired. They were five days in and Shinji couldn't remember being quite so exhausted before. There wasn't really a moment to himself unless he was sleeping. Asuka, left to her own devices, found any myriad of things to occupy her time – and then there were times all of them absolutely had to involve him in some way.

On a day like that, the only moment he had time to himself was when she was sleeping or in the shower. And today had very much been one of those days. Just that morning she'd woken him up by pinching his nose closed until he coughed himself awake.

This Asuka was not the Asuka he'd seen off the plane a month ago, or the one who'd sat by his hospital bed, or the one who argued with him incessantly at school – and yet she was. It was more like someone had moved into her skin and was very much trying to act like the Asuka he remembered, slipping up here and there with their inconsistencies.

Lost in this internal crisis, he didn't quite hear her when she said, "hey, Shinji. Could you brush my hair?"

She plopped down on his left, turned halfway so she could still watch Super Sentai on the TV. Handing him the brush, she threw her hair over her shoulders. Still a bit damp, it came down to the middle of her back and he scooted closer to reach all the way. He'd done this a few times before already, and plenty more back when they were kids. The first time, he'd asked her why she couldn't do it herself – to which she thwacked his knee with the flat of the brush, sat down with her back to him, and held it over her shoulder.

This was not an offer to be refused.

As usual after around ten minutes, Asuka growled – impatient with his slow pace – and snatched the brush from him to rip the remaining knots out.

"I'm thirsty," she said, wandering to the kitchen and sliding the fridge open. "Hey, what does Japanese beer taste like?"

Shinji turned. "Like most other beers, I guess."

"Have you tried these?" Asuka wiggled one of the Yebisu cans.

"Nope." He held out his hand and she grabbed a second one for him.

Much like when he'd run amok in Berlin with Swina, having Asuka there made Shinji care less about any rules he might be breaking. In fact, he felt more and more like he wanted to get away with breaking them, so long as he had a partner in crime.

Asuka snapped her lid open as she sat down, and they both took a sip at the same time. He'd had alcohol enough times before, they both had. It was just a natural part of growing up in Germany. Little glasses of wine, every so often beer, given to them on holidays and special occasions and more often than not after dinner.

So Shinji was sure he'd never tasted anything so sour in all his life.

Asuka made a face and shuddered. "She actually drinks this garbage?"

"Like water."

She looked at it, pained, then her expression tightened. Asuka took another gulp, face fouling again. Shinji laughed, standing to dump his in the sink.

"What the hell? You're not gonna finish it?"

"Nah, this stuff is awful."

Sitting beside her again, her expression became rueful. Outside, he could see the shadow of the Angel from where it hovered in the sky.

For the next hour Asuka made further attempts at her beer while they wondered how to break the siege, though Shinji could figure no other way out. Those brilliant ideas he'd had as a child to fix the world and save it were just an absurd fantasy. He was embarrassed for even remembering them. Really, he knew next to nothing about anything, and felt all the more stupid for being where he was.

"Do you think we'll have to stay this way?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Like, what if we can't beat it?" He watched her hands hover over manga pages. Clean and pink nails. Her beer can was between her legs, still half full.

"That's dumb. Of course we can." she said. Then, in a whisper. "We have to."

On the TV, explosions burst, throwing the heroes in their bright power suits across the ground. Not a scratch on them as they jumped to their feet. Bad guys came running in, swinging in wild arcs. Sparks flew.

"You should give me the gunner position."

Shinji sat straight. "Why?"

A shrug. "Because you can't miss," she said, not looking up from the book.

"It's up to a computer targeting system, remember? I actually can't miss."

She chewed on her words. "Well, if you blow it, then we might not get a second shot."

"So I guess I'm just a screw up no matter what."

Asuka was unphased. "Don't be so dramatic."

Humiliation rippled through him. He was on his feet then. "That, or you can't stand not being in the spotlight. You've always been like that."

Her eyes flashed, mouth tight.

"You must get a kick out of seeing me lose all the time."

Asuka didn't blink. "Take that back."

"Which one?" He huffed, moving into the kitchen, searching for some chore or another. Asuka wouldn't let him win that easy and gave chase, catching him by the fridge.

"All of it. Take it back."

He backed away. She pursued. Her cheeks were flushed, he assumed from the beer, and she was right in his face. There was nowhere to go with the fridge at his back.

"Fine. Whatever," he said, glaring at the TV instead of her.

"Say it!" A hand pressed him against the appliance.

"I take it back."

Asuka took her hand away and stepped back, almost covering a stumble. She stood there in the kitchen, arms folded, not looking at him.

Shinji went to the door and slipped his shoes on.

Several heartbeats passed. Asuka appeared down the hall. "Where are you going?"

"Out," he said, sliding into the corridor and turning his phone off as he entered the stairwell.

Emergency NERV lines were still running to the GeoFront, and he took one of these down to Headquarters. It seemed like the most logical place to look first. However, Shinji found her office empty and dark. Everything in its place and undisturbed. The closed lotus flower drifted on the windowsill.

Standing in the desolate halls of Headquarters, a trickle of thought suggested it might be easier to go and see Rei instead. She was on shift after all and was likely sitting on the grated platform beside her Eva in the cages, Pale Fire splayed open in her hands. Yet the idea hesitated and trembled in his chest.

What if his father was there too?

Rei had never flaunted that special bond she had with him – and it was special. It was something he didn't have, maybe might never have. The First Child, at least in his father's world, was elevated. Worth his attentions. Despite that, they got along alright, though the more Asuka invaded his life, the less he could say he understood it.

Then there was the bike, and her growing and changing collection of injuries. Rei had taken a step somewhere away from him, or maybe they'd never been that close. Maybe she'd always been away from him, but at least now he felt the distance. Ever since they had buried the wolf-dog together.

After wracking his brain, and warring with his indecision, a new destination came to mind.

Shinji took a dirt maintenance road leading west of Headquarters, out to the hills where the GeoFront level shelters were buried. None of the transit shuttles were running because of the lockdown order, but that was fine with him. Sand crunched under his shoes, bits of broken seashells scraping as he walked. Much like his hikes topside in the mountains, the thick scent of pine burned his nose. He filled his lungs with it as the breeze picked up.

On the other side of Headquarters, crooked cracks crept up the GeoFront wall, still draped with an elaborate network of scaffolding and lifts. Even from where he was, he could catch the flash and waterfall of sparks as pieces of it were cut away and replaced.

Shinji came 'round a bend to an open clearing and stopped.

Off the road, there were four patches of dirt spaced in meticulously measured squares. A tiller and hand shovels, along with bags of fertilizer, were piled nearby. In boots, jeans, and a white tank top, a man was hunched over at work. Dark hair hung free over his shoulders, the rest of it covered by a white towel draped atop his head like a nun's habit.

He had a small pallet of plants beside him, ready to be kneaded into the moist earth, though Shinji couldn't tell what kind they were. Brown tubes crept through the dirt sporadically, like a burrowed snake. At some point he'd hooked up a drip line and half-buried it to water his garden directly.

Shinji moved closer, knowing he was somehow privy to a hidden moment. At least until the man's head lifted, perhaps sensing another's eye on him. Turning, his face came into full view, a face Shinji had seen many times before. Bitter recognition cut into him.

Kaji smiled. "Well, well, Shinji Ikari, we cross paths again," he called, standing straight.

Unsure of how to respond, he merely stood there, hoping his silence and his stare conveyed enough how little he appreciated the sight of the man. When Kaji began to speak, Shinji turned and started walking.

Even when he was called after, he stayed forward, his shoulders stiff. Rapid footfalls punched the gravel, getting louder.

"Hey, wait," Kaji said, thumping to a halt next to him and taking a few ragged breaths.

"What?"

An odd look crossed Kaji's face as he studied him. "Oh, that's funny," he said, a grin spreading once more. The man's dimples were pronounced. He must have smiled a lot. "You have the same look Asuka does when she's angry. In your eyes – it's exactly the same." He said, a finger poking at the bridge of his nose.

Shinji jerked away, blinking. "Okay," he said, moving on again.

Kaji followed. "So, what brings you out here?"

"It's private," he said, wishing the man would just go back to his planting. Out in the GeoFront, of all places. He wondered if that was even allowed. "What are you doing out here?"

"Oh, it's private," Kaji answered, a smarmy grin in his voice. "But really, I'm just out here planting watermelons. Used to love 'em as a kid. The soil is rich and the climate is perfect. They can't get enough of summer."

Shinji grunted, trying to pick up his pace, which the older man matched.

"Why watermelons you ask?"

Shinji didn't, but Kaji carried on.

"Back when I was going to University in Tokyo-two, I had this nineteen-seventy-seven Toyota Celica." He took his time saying it. 'Sell-ee-caa'. "It's Latin, meaning 'heavenly'. It didn't have nearly as much horsepower as the next gen models – real racing cars. And by the time I got my hands on it, I was basically fixing something every week. But it was stylish. Had a fat engine that made lots of hood space. There wasn't much sitting room, so that was great for, uh," the man considered him, then glanced up, scratching at his chin. "Well, me and Misato used to drive out to the coast, no one really used the roads there anymore. We'd find a place along the beach to park and collect driftwood for a bonfire. We'd drink beer and slice up watermelon, listening to the crash of the waves. Ah, I do miss that car."

A deep sigh. "But unlike cars, I can always grow more watermelons."

"She's... never mentioned stuff like that."

Shinji couldn't help but feel a little betrayed. There was a Misato he didn't know. Maybe wouldn't ever know. Who wasn't yet a Captain of NERV, or even a soldier. Who had different hopes and ideals and... sat by bonfires on beaches eating watermelons. Not that he had any delusions about where he resided in Misato's world. Even so, it seemed everyone knew her better than he did. Worse, this man especially so.

"I'm not surprised," Kaji said, his tone wistful. "And how is the intrepid Captain?"

"She doesn't want to see you."

That made him laugh. "So Ritsuko tells me."

"You know her?"

"Yeah, we were all in college together. I used to flirt with her all the time – it was the best way to get Misato's attention."

Kaji just knew everyone then, didn't he?

"So, this top-secret mission of yours."

"I'm looking for someone. In the shelters."

Thoughtful, the man gazed skyward. "Why don't I help you look?"

Shinji shrugged, clinging to hope that he would just get bored and leave. To spur this on, he made no conversation as they followed the road, despite Kaji's attempts to draw more out of him.

"How has Asuka been? You two getting along?"

At that, Shinji sighed. "Why does everyone ask me that? Shouldn't you know?"

A quiet came over the man's face. "I suppose I should."

They closed on the hills in short order, adorned in bright silver from the vast complex of greenhouses and aquacells. They stood in the face of it for several minutes while Shinji gained his bearings. He had been made to memorize all the emergency routes, entrances and exits – and participated in mandatory evacuation drills like everyone else. The way was easy to find. On the eastern end of the complex, out into the grassy foot hills, an concrete bunker jut out of the landscape. Its walls stretched out across the smooth pavement like arms open in welcome – massive, thick steel doors barring the way in.

GEOFRONT SHELTER 11 – it read at the top.

Shinji stepped up to a small panel nestled into the wall beside the doors, a camera watching him from above. Sliding his I.D. card, the panel chirped, and a thundering crescendo of clangs sounded as the doors parted.

Inside, a pair of N-Sec guards were waiting. An impromptu checkpoint with metal detectors had been set up. Perhaps for any non-essential staff that were requested topside for one thing or another. He could only guess.

One of them spoke into the radio strapped to his vest, while the other waved them up and down with one of those wands they had at airports.

Clearing them through, Shinji and Kaji boarded one of four escalators that funneled into a wide, dark tunnel, lit only by the tiny lights bouncing off the reflective sides of the escalators. They winked and shimmered as a river splashed with moonlight might.

When they walked off at the base, the tunnel opened up to an expanse that was perhaps the size of a stadium, filled as far as he could see with folding cots and bobbing heads. No one there knew the next op was only in a few days. Better to tell them to hunker down for the foreseeable future, just in case they failed again.

Just in case he failed.

Medical personnel patrolled the cots or waited by care stations, and everyone wore filtered masks. A few NERV Security stood by exits and entrances. Wooden partitions had also been erected in rectangular blocks along the walls.

Shinji paused a moment to take in the sheer amount of people. "I had no idea there were this many civilians in the GeoFront."

Kaji made something of a laugh. "Well, yeah kid, all of that support has to come from somewhere, right?"

Shinji hadn't given that much thought before. Sure, he knew the technicians and the pit crew mechanics, but only because they worked on the same thing he did, just in a different way.

"What do they look like? The person you're looking for?"

"Uh, brown hair. Like, really light brown. Almost sienna." He leveled a hand to his shoulder. "It goes down to here. Straight but a little wavy at the ends. Ah... definitely older than thirty, but probably not forty."

It took an invasive amount of searching: pausing awkwardly by cots or groupings, stepping into areas they were clearly in the way and probably shouldn't have been. That was how they found her, by one of the water stations attached to a large kitchen like the ones at the food courts along the outer walls. She was wearing the typical workers uniform over her clothes – white apron and bandana. Water boiled on one of the four stoves, next to which sat a glass teapot. From a silver container labeled English Rose, he watched her take spoonfuls of dried leaves and slip them into the filter.

"Miss Okinoshima."

Her hair swayed as she turned, expression placid – but wary. Maybe that wasn't the right word.

"Hi there," Kaji said, leaning against the wall and delivering a wink. Okinoshima took him in at a glance before pausing again on Shinji.

Water gurgled on the stove top.

"The tea will be ready in five minutes," she said.

If it wasn't for the hair, he might not have recognized her at all, since he'd never seen her dressed in anything but dark business attire. Here, she was wearing slim blue jeans that hugged her legs and a pale pink long sleeve shirt. There wasn't any jewelry on her, or any of the other things people donned to make themselves stand out. It reminded him a bit of Rei.

So they stood there and watched the tea turn from gold to pink.

Okinoshima filled two cups, looking at him upon pouring the second one.

"Plain is fine. I've never had this kind before," he said, and she took both cups in hand.

Then, to Kaji she said, "you may help yourself," before leading them out.

Guiding them behind one of the partitions, showers steaming on the other side, she sat in seiza while he just crossed his legs, two cups of tea between them. They made all the kids at school sit that way for special presentations, for good posture or something. On the other side of the walls, someone was between humming and singing... Shinji listened a moment, whispering the words to see if they fit.

"And when you smile at me that way, you can warm the coldest day... it's magic..."

"Hm?"

"Magic Ways," he said, "from Tatsuro's album Big Wave. I know a lot of them."

Okinoshima's eyes didn't lift from her cup. "He's married to Mariya Takeuchi."

"Huh? No way."

"Nineteen-eighty-two."

"Wow."

She took a sip and cradled the cup in both hands. Shinji did the same. It was black tea, well-steeped, and richly bitter – but with a sweetness from the rosebuds that made it easy to drink more. Not unlike the olives he'd used to eat as a kid.

Okinoshima was staring off into the shelter, where people milled about, resting in their cots, entertaining toddlers, reading, pacing, boring themselves to death with mahjong and cards to keep from being buried in nothing.

"How is your lotus?" Shinji asked, wishing he could see it. Perhaps he might on the way back, but it seemed wrong to enter the place without her in it. Seeing the flower didn't really mean anything if she wasn't there anyway.

"I think the container you have it in is too small," he went on. That, or she wasn't giving it enough fertilizer. Sunlight wasn't an issue. Really, the only thing he could imagine was that the bowl was too tiny. Flowers like that wanted to spread out and be seen.

Okinoshima didn't respond, occupied by the NERV non-essentials and the tea in her hands. Shinji followed her gaze again, seeing if he could home in on what she was seeing. They all just became a blur of movement and noise, and he ended up staring into his tea.

"I'm worried," he said, watching thin bits of leaves swirl, "about the operation we're going to be doing to kill the Angel. I've been given a really important position."

The tea was warm and he took another sip, holding it closer. "I'm not really sure I can do it. Asuka doesn't even think I can do it."

Even though she hadn't come out and said it, he knew it was what she was thinking. Why else would she want it? Bright white eyes from a shadow saw him. He shook his head, dispelling the image. "I can't even kill the wolf in my nightmares."

"What could you do about that?"

Shinji blinked. Then looked up. Okinoshima's eyes were still out in the shelter, away from him.

"What?"

"The wolf," she said, facing him again, her head falling in a slight tilt. "What could you do?"

"Well, I can't... can I? It's just a dream."

Okinoshima took a sip from her cup, tantamount to a shrug. "Then it is just a dream, and you are powerless."

They sat a while longer with their tea. The person in the showers was still singing Magic, and other than the murmur of the shelter, all else was quiet between them. She'd never spoken to him like that before. Or at all, really. He didn't know what else to do besides leave. Shinji thanked her for the tea, leaving his cup there as he stood.

Okinoshima stared at it and said nothing more.

Walking back into the water station, he found Kaji side by side with a woman in front of the stove, also taking the opportunity to make tea. The former was leaning in rather close and speaking softly through a grin, while the latter wore a blush and had a hand up to cover giggles.

"I'm leaving," Shinji said, making the woman jump, and walking away before either could say anything. Kaji called after him a few times, before catching up at the escalators. They boarded and rode up through the dim-lit tunnel without a word.

Once topside and out in open air again, they saw the day had quieted to afternoon. Waves crashed through the grass, crickets chirping. They took the dirt maintenance road back to Headquarters. When they reached Kaji's watermelon patches, their paths parted, though the man turned while stepping downhill.

"Well, Shinji, it's been fun. Let's do it again sometime," he said, ever smiling.

"Yeah. Thanks," he said, and actually meant it, no less suspicious of the man.

His smile softened as some severity came to him. "You should probably check your phone while you're at it."

Kaji's back faced him as he returned to his melons, and Shinji decided he would check his cell after all. It'd been a few hours. His phone began to chirp and buzz with missed calls and messages. All of them from Asuka.

"Seriously... who does that?"

Still, on the way home, Shinji erred on the side of picking up two cokes from a vending machine. Taking the offering, Asuka stretched out on the futon in front of the TV, leaving him on the carpet.

Later, he was given the gracious duty of brushing her hair.

She didn't bring up the operation again.

It had taken Asuka a few days to get used to the penguin.

A dog or a cat might have been understandable, but maybe Misato was the only person in the world who would think a penguin, genetically altered, made an appropriate pet. The thing reeked of fish, which made sense, and she supposed smelled no worse than a wet dog.

Still, it took a while before she got used to her shins bumping into him around every corner. PenPen seemed to take pleasure in being near or around their feet when he wasn't asleep in his fridge. So much so that Shinji had to take him in one arm and carry him around like a baby, which she suspected is what he actually wanted. Asuka couldn't bring herself to hold him yet. Her skin crawled every time she even thought about it.

Most days at the apartment were uneventful, which drove her mad – which meant she drove Shinji mad.

She wanted to drag him down to Headquarters when it became particularly still. To spar, to swim, to move around – to see anything other than the plain carpet and kitchen and drapes. Except she never hounded him on it, only thought of doing it, which built this wall of thrumming anxiety in her. Because he'd become... weird since a few days ago.

She'd come out of the shower, freshly changed: a slim yellow shirt and short-shorts. Comfortable. When he'd turned around, maybe to ask her something, his mouth clamped shut – and his eyes moved down, then up, pausing, until he fell right onto her stare. That didn't last more than a breath before he got up and said he had to take out the trash.

In the dead echo he left behind, filled by a wash of sounds from the TV, all she could think to do was go to his room and snatch his SDAT for herself. It didn't feel the same being in there, as though she were an unnatural, even unwelcome presence. So she laid down in Misato's, listening to the music, her head poking out onto the living room carpet from the doorway.

There, she decided it wasn't a normal glance at her. This was different. It was the kind of look all boys just sort of had, that she'd first noticed at university and saw every day now at school – whether it was catching their eyes on her in the halls or watching them leer at a gaggle of girls during track.

Shinji had looked at her like she was a real girl.

That moment, though small, maybe insignificant her mind said, crept over her at odd hours of the day. While they were sitting together on the futon, she might notice how close they were, how their knees sometimes touched. Or his proximity to her in the kitchen when she helped him prepare a meal for the night. In her space. Invading her senses.

Two days before the operation – Misato canceled the standby order for the pilots. No one explained why, but Asuka knew it was probably just someone higher up complaining about money. That's all adults ever complained about.

So Asuka was left to figure out how the hell to entertain herself until the operation, an endeavor in which Shinji was absolutely useless. Mostly, she monopolized the TV.

Then he would invite Zero over. Or she would just show up. Asuka couldn't tell which. Maybe she'd already been coming over while Asuka had been on her shifts. The result was the same either way – that girl was there. Then Shinji would put on these old black and white American films with bad dubs. Zero, her legs crossed on the futon with PenPen in her lap, became absorbed in the movies, but without any real expression. It just looked more intent, like when they'd buried the dog. Except for the moments she would smile. Shinji would smile.

In those moments they looked as comfortable and at ease as...

Asuka made a show of exiling herself to the balcony, with chips, sweets, and maybe a beer to try and drink while reading a stack of his comics. Out in a dark city with no one in it, light from elsewhere reflecting off the Angel's gently swaying form high above.

It went like that for hours, and not once did he even knock on the sliding door to check on her. Or peek his head out and ask what she was doing or send her a text. Not a word!

When Zero eventually left, either to Headquarters or for something else, Asuka wouldn't look at him, wouldn't speak to him, or acknowledge him in the slightest. Until he did something so ridiculous, she couldn't help but laugh. Like when she'd found him just standing in the kitchen with a huge pot swallowing his head, waiting for her to walk in. He was so stupid, and annoying, and an asshole.

But it made it impossible for her to stay angry after that, much as she tried. And he knew it. She knew he knew it. Like it was one of their bets. 'I bet I can make you stop being mad at me'.

Those weren't bets she could win. At least, not the other way around. She couldn't make him laugh like that. Why should she have to anyway? What the hell did he have to be so mad at her for? For being honest about certain things? For getting him to do anything besides sit around and be boring?

She could win, if she really wanted, but it would mean they wouldn't talk again. That's what winning meant. Some days she thought that might not be so bad. All Shinji did was drag his feet when she was around, as though she were a weight clamped to his ankles.

Just thinking it set her in an ugly mood.

Really, it just made her feel stuck, like in Bernau those last two weeks she'd been getting ready to go to college. She would finally be able to live on her own, in a way. Be free of her father and step-mother. Of the dresses and dark curtains and high walls.

She would be free.

What she didn't know was that she'd be left behind. No, that wasn't right. She did know that, and that's why she left the way she did. Was that so wrong?

It hadn't quite felt that way, not enough to be real, until the Christmas she'd come back home.

Walking the gardens had kind of been like stepping back in time – or the closest thing to it. She hadn't been gone that long, though it could've been years if she didn't know any better. The place was hardly recognizable and finding her way took the better part of a day. Most of the flowers had died, overgrown by wild ferns and greedy vines. The birches had rotted away, their grove nothing but broken pillars of mold-ridden wood standing like grave markers.

Though it took some time, she found it at last – their old olive tree, encased in a thicket of thorns. She'd discovered something else out there with it. A red sash she'd given him once, left tied to an arm of the tree.

Asuka still had some of the scars on her legs from the many cuts that'd ripped through her skin getting to it. The dress had been ruined too. Stepmother insisted she dress like a lady when visiting. It took some climbing, the thorns nipping at her all the way up, until she was able to untie the sash. Exhausted, she sat in the crook of the olive tree's wide trunk, clutching it tight and resting her temple against the sandpaper bark. Next to her was the spot she had carved her name years back, in kanji too, just so Shinji could know for sure that it was hers. She'd made him teach her the characters of her name. "Tomorrow" and "Fragrance". Even the memory couldn't make her smile.

Was she really so awful?

She lay on her bed in the dark of her room that night, holding the red sash to her chest. His half-formed shadow, etched in charcoal, sat on the wall beside her.

His shadow was there now, right in front of her. On the other side of the cloudy plastic sheets drawn to split the locker room nestled just beyond the Cages. She watched him. Today was mission day. They would be going out to kill the Eighth Angel.

Asuka still wanted to ask him. But she couldn't figure out if he was ignoring her, like he always did. Either that or he didn't remember. She'd been sitting in the aching silence after...

"Hey... Shinji?"

A band of hurt wrapped around her and squeezed. Asuka couldn't fathom what had possessed her to even voice it.

His silhouette became fainter on the other side as he drew further away. Asuka knew she was falling behind, because she was standing there like a dunce, and he would make it out to the cages first. She didn't care about that right then, clutching her plugsuit. Zero had changed and prepared long before they arrived. It was just the two of them. Her eyes found the duffel bag sitting in her locker.

"Hey, Shinji."

The squirming and creaking of plastic stopped. A wave of heat bowled into her, constricting. She frowned.

"Yeah, Asuka?"

God, what was wrong with her?

"Nevermind."

Donning her plugsuit became more of a chore than usual as she shoved her legs and arms into their sleeves with clumsy force. The door to the boy's half of the room squealed as he left, while she was still struggling to get her right foot all the way in. Tiny pockets of fire burst in her chest. She cursed and struck her leg out, foot slamming into a locker face. It did little more than leave her unbalanced and she fell hard on her rear.

Asuka set her hands flat against the cold floor and eased herself onto her back. One deep breath through her nose, then two. A third. It was the one thing she had taken away from the counselor at university, out of the few scheduled visits she'd actually attended. An exercise that was seeing more and more use as the days went by. Perhaps most after the battle with the Seventh Angel.

A week spent drenched in the floods of her own pitiful performance. Everyone at school asking her about Shinji, and lying through her teeth to all of them. Because how could she admit to anyone that the Angel had swallowed him whole and there had been nothing she could do to stop it? Not a thing. She was a pilot of the most advanced weapon system mankind had ever developed, and she couldn't even handle that. For all the difference it had made.

Even now, remembering that knocked the wind out of her.

"Come on, Asuka."

She took her time, inching into every nook and cranny of the suit before toggling the vacuum seal. By then she was standing again, facing down her duffel bag once more.

A decision then.

Entering the Cages, sharp smells of oil and grease welcomed her. The restraining walls for the Evas hadn't yet been peeled away. She checked the watch nestled into her suit. Still ten minutes before they had to be plug-ready. Asuka gripped the fabric in her left hand a little tighter and found the grated stairwell to Unit-01's plug dock. Shinji didn't notice her come up, leaning forward on the railing and staring hard at the Test Type's face plating. Even though she couldn't hear his thoughts, she could see them etched in the creases of his expression.

"You think too much," she said, though he didn't jump as his head swiveled 'round to her.

"About what?"

She made a face at that, catching his lie. Then he spotted the fold of red in her hand, almost blending in with her suit. Eyes alight with recognition, his lips parted.

"I know it's stupid," she snapped. The last thing she wanted was for him to talk today. "Just let me do it, okay?"

Really, it wasn't a request since she'd already stepped up to his right side, unfurling the sash – frayed at the edges, while its bright apple red had faded to burgundy. Shinji watched her hands wrap it around and tie it off.

Thankfully, her disposition was enough to convince him to keep his obnoxious mouth shut. At least he wasn't a complete idiot some of the time.

She spent the last five minutes before Op leaning on the railing next to him. All too soon, the timer on her watch started beeping, signaling her departure. Asuka sensed him hesitate as she broke away.

"Don't lose it this time," she said, descending to meet her Unit-02 – patiently awaiting her arrival.

The Second Attempt

Rei and Asuka launched ahead of him by just a few minutes – enough that the Angel wouldn't attack him outright once he arrived topside. Not if they were in its field of awareness first. All they had to do was delay the target until the railgun was ready. The weapon itself was waiting in position on the slopes of Mount Mikuni, with Unit-01 being taken there via catapult line.

Floating in the LCL beside him was the red sash. It couldn't have been the same one.

The route from launch bay to mountainside was longer than the main lines, having to detour up and under the range rimming the caldera. It was just enough time, shooting through the lighted tunnel, to think of Misato standing by his entry plug in the cages. Just before they'd been called to man their entry plugs.

She'd come along the restraining wall, pausing a few more steps before she would have met the platform. He watched her, not knowing what to say, if there was anything he should have said. A minor detail to brief him about? She could have done that through the Battle Circuit.

His CO, his guardian, hung onto the guard rail, lingering on a thought. He saw it stuck behind her lips.

"Take us home, Shinji," she said, giving him a smile he had learned to tell wasn't real. Hanging over the front half of the plug, Shinji in turn gave her a thumbs up he didn't feel, before dropping into the command chair.

A clearance marker beeped from the command console. Sixty seconds to arrival.

Ritsuko appeared on his left. "It's just like we went over in the mission packet: you have to wait until the MAGI confirm the Exclusion Zone is gone and the Angel's field is cleared – otherwise the shot won't make it through."

"Understood."

She nodded and her image winked out.

Unit-01 eased to a halt at the open shutter beneath Mount Mikuni. The inversion crept over the caldera as he did, and on the other side of the lake Tokyo-3 stood in the blood colored light, his plug-HUD locking onto Unit-00 and 02's IFF.

Modified with an umbilical cable hookup was the railgun, sitting on a platform that had extended from the catapult line and flattened. From the tunnel entry, he took the plug waiting for Unit-01 and jacked in. A wash of green flowed over his power gauge.

Shinji took up a firing position, his onboard computer connecting to the railgun to monitor energy flow. Sweeping back to reality, the inversion drained and the battle in the city began again. Towering over everything below was the Angel, the largest he'd ever faced.

"Unit-one, in position, ready to fire."

"Roger, wait for the MAGI's signal. Unit-zero and two will be moving into position."

As Maya spoke, an optical assist headset deployed from the rear of the command chair and settled over his head, its visor snapping to life. Contained in a yellow box in the left corner, the word -STANDBY- sprang up. Shinji watched it, not even daring to blink. A reticle flashed as it lined up over the Angel's core, maintaining tracking even as the inversion folded. It would be on the next wave. His hands flexed around the induction levers. Then they stilled, he let his shoulders fall, trying to force his nerves to calm.

Unit-00 and 02's markers had come into proximity. They were fighting off an onslaught of the Angel's tendrils.

Any moment now.

A shrill scream.

-FIRE-

Instantaneous and all at once – a blast split open the left side casing as its armature plowed out of the barrel, black smoke spilling from internal fires. Shinji's shot was shaken off its firing track, the projectile sinking just shy of the core as the inversion gap closed.

"Damage readings – we just lost a third of our capacitor banks."

"Rail integrity down by thirty-four percent!"

A crescendo of alerts pined for his attention. With a decisive thought, he silenced them.

Shit.

Below, the round had burrowed a deep crater at the crest of the mountains, shattering windows and collapsing some of the weaker structures with its impact. A third of the capacitors gone–

"Misato," he said, heart trying to rise and envelope his throat, "how much slack does this cable have?"

It was Yamazaki that answered. "Not enough for your next shot to make it in time!"

Aoba spoke next. "I've marked the nearest umbilical line. Captain?"

"Do it."

Shinji jettisoned Unit-01's cord and then the railgun's. Once cleared, he maneuvered the Eva down range along Lake Ashi's western edge, attentive not to let the excessive weight of the gun tip him over. The auto-loader clanked as another armature was primed between the rails. At least it hadn't jammed.

Misato updated Rei and Asuka. The red armband jittered with the external tremors of his movement shivering through the LCL.

A cascade of weapons fire turned the Angel's ribbons away once more.

Unit-01 reached the outer blocks of Tokyo-3 and Shinji took the waiting plug from its port. A glance at his battery timer – 4:10. There wasn't time for him to jack-in from another location. He'd wasted enough botching the first shot. If it got down to a minute, he could just use the railgun's umbilical. If he had to do that, they'd be in bad shape anyway, because it meant he would've missed the second shot.

Shinji took up a firing position yet again while they waited for the inversion to fade. Except the sky dropped almost as soon as it had been erected, the Angel's massive form lording above them. A silver streak lanced for him. Unit-01 turned, hauling the railgun out of the way. The Angel's ribbon crashed into a stack of buildings, mere feet away from cleaving the Eva in two.

As the face of its ribbon twisted for him – the tip of a spear pierced through. Pulling by the flat of the blade, Unit-02 hauled the end of the ribbon off its line of attack. Then she twisted and shoved the haft upward, letting the prog-spear slice its way free.

The tendril withdrew and the discolored reflection returned.

Asuka moved Unit-02 down the road, enough so that his line of sight was clear. Rei came in alongside her down an adjacent street corridor. Their A.T. fields were already unfurled, waiting to be forced outward again. The Field sickness rolled through his stomach as he felt their erratic pulses, haggard from the last push.

Shaking it off by feeding his field out a little, Shinji took a kneeling position with Unit-01 and let the optical assist headset roll over his head once more. All sensors live, the computer locking onto its target through the illusion. The yellow box appeared.

-STANDBY-

His eyes darted from reading to reading, checking for some error he might have missed last time. Rail temperature was still high. With the blast from the overloaded capacitors, some of the heat exchangers had been torn to shreds. Nothing he could do about that. Even now, black smoke leaked from the gun's frame.

What happened next was too fast.

The sky dropped. Only one of the Angel's ribbons flew towards them – and then it split. Like a stream of missiles, each streaking for their own targets. Three strands went for Asuka, one piercing her right arm before she even had time to react. Unit-02, its pilot trained to cope with the pain, made a diagonal cut with its prog-spear, slicing a strand off. The third slipped out of the blade path, cutting into the armor at its neck.

The scream that answered it was filled with a wretched anger. Unit-02's prog-knife sprang out as she dropped her hold on the spear, the offending strand cut loose as it was swiped free. Unable to reach the first one trying to pin its knife-arm, Asuka grabbed it with the Eva's left hand. Whipping the strand upward, the Angel sheared through half the arm and four of Unit-02's fingers.

The red Eva staggered, half collapsing atop a building for support.

Two more strands went for Unit-00, who was beyond his field of view, rifle fire rattling off with rapid cracks.

All of this happened as a lance tore into Unit-01's left shoulder and the brain-casing – straight through the left eye and out the other side. His aim went off line. The targeting display screamed – LOCK LOST. Sour, ripping pain blurred his senses, like someone had driven a rail spike through. Even then, he fought the urge to lift his hand and touch his eye, shoving the assist headset up instead. It wouldn't help, just drop his sync-rate lower. Shadows danced in splashing orbs around his left eye, throbbing and bloating with sensory overload.

Unit-00 bulldozed a small city block to get into the street with him, taking the tendrils in its grasp. It yanked, blue blood splashing the metal as some of its fingers were lopped off, but freeing him. Unit-02 was there a split second later, slicing the strand in two.

Shinji muttered something that might have been curses. He couldn't tell. The other Evas hunkered down, to make what remained of his shot clear, their fields torching a sloppy, wild path to clear the way. All he could think about was lifting the railgun, aligning the targeter again.

Too late.

Shinji took it in his sights –

LOCK LOST

This was his last chance.

-FIRE-

He pulled the trigger.

Flame erupted from the muzzle of the gun. There was enough damage to the frame that a rail managed to propel itself free in the firing – a white hot bar of metal slamming into the road at Unit-01's feet. It didn't matter, because the round had already left. In a split second, as that wave of crimson came to shield the Angel – the armature ripped into the sky and shattered through the core.

What was left of its field became visible, cracks splintering over the flickering image of its inverted Tokyo-3. The façade collapsed into shards that fell and dissipated into wisps of ash, while the Angel's form turned black and seeped as it descended with its torn projection. Light twinkled from the splintered remains of its smoldering core, bright and wild with fury, before the decay of death snuffed it out.

Metal crashed as the railgun hit the ground. Unit-01 sank forward, the careless weight behind its fist collapsing into a subway tunnel. Shinji's hands shook, damage indicators fading to a shrill whine of white noise.

An hour later, he boarded a medical VTOL, Unit-00 watching over them as it was secured to the lifts behind Unit 01 and 02. Ash rained from the darkening sky. Paramedics checked him over, Asuka too. Their Evas had both ended up in a bad way.

They took his blood pressure, checked his heartbeat. Deep breath in, and then out. His temperature was measured and a few sensory tests were performed. Shinji's left eye was still coloring the world in neon paints, so they taped an eye-patch there to give it time to readjust. Even though his sync-rate hadn't been high enough for him to suffer more than a few popped blood vessels, he was sure he would be feeling the ghost pains for at least a week.

When the paramedics were done checking him over, he shuffled seats – much to the brief dismay of their escort – to where they had set up Asuka. They'd fit a compression glove over her left hand, probably so she didn't feel like her fingers were falling off every few minutes, and her right arm was in a sling.

She was sitting on a stretcher, kicking her legs, and scooted away when he sat on it with her. There wasn't a protest when he touched his hip to hers anyway.

As they lifted off, Shinji stared at the red sash still knotted to his bicep.

A/N: This wasn't supposed to be a 17k word chapter. But here we are. I don't believe the remaining chapters in Act II will be quite this long, I know they can be tedious to read, but we'll see where we end up. Also, I can't really afford for them to be this long if I want to make updates in a reasonable amount of time, haha. My son, he's 2 and half months old now, and requires quite a lot of attention.

I am very much looking forward to writing this next chapter.

Take some time, let me know what you think, and take care.