StarDestroyer.Net BBS

I would like to thank (blame) the following authors for putting a Neon Genesis Evangelion bug in me.

Chris O'Farrel, for his phenomenal work Once More With Feeling
Charles Bhepin, for being fucking awesome with Shinji and Warhammer 40k
John Biles, for slowly yet surely kicking so much eldritch monstrosity ass with Children of an Elder God

So now I present to you Thousand Shinji, which features Shinji not as an supremely confident and competent bad ass, but as a supremely confident and competent manipulative asshole who inherited all the worst qualities of his father and had some mentoring along the way, which is why this is a crossover and not just a straight AU. Why? Because I'm whacky that way, that's why.

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His name was Shinji Ikari, and he was a quiet, unassuming young man, who kept to himself, seemingly uninterested in the affairs of the world and the people in it around him. He often seemed to lack a spine, and would bend to the whims of anyone more powerful than he, lacking any self confidence or respect. He simply existed, ignorant of others, and they in turn ignorant of him.

It was a lie.

At best, Shinji found the mewling morons about him valuable only as clay in need of moulding at his whims, at worst he despised them for the way they looked down upon him, the way they refused to see beyond the superficial and acknowledge the obvious truth of his supremacy. Shinji only hid his passions and full intellect because it was useful to hide behind a mask. Useful in that the morons could not see that it was not the edge of the typhoon they should fear but the eye.

A word here, a subtle expression there, all little things, like the flapping of the wings of a butterfly, and Shinji would sow the wind so as to reap the whirlwind, cackling within over the destruction of the fools about him. Fortunes rose and fell at his whims, pathetic juvenile relationships engineered and demolished as he saw fit. He was the puppet master, and none saw the strings that bound their motions to him.

Still, his own antipathy for the children around him meant that he only indulged in such masterminding when he sought revenge… or practice. Despite the often long tracks of boredom as his teachers blathered on, he refused to indulge in such pettiness if it did not serve him, which it rarely would. Too much chaos and sooner or later some of the brighter of the idiots would notice that he was the one who always seemed unscathed by the drama swirling about him. Attention from these weak willed fools was not what he sought, was in fact the last thing he sought, for attention brought unwanted questions.

Questions his sensei would not want raised.

Aside from the utility of appearing weak that made others misjudge his true strengths, his carefully cultivated aura of weakness drove others from him, and let him spend large amounts of time “alone” without anyone, even his guardians, asking twice about it. His cello playing was a useful cover, allowing him to wander off into the wilderness of the hills to “practice” without “disturbing” others.

Had they actually known what he was doing they probably would have bombed the area with N2 mines until there was nothing left.

Still, for all his internal self-confidence, he was shaken by current developments, the most recent being the note he had received written by his father’s hand bearing a single word: “Come.”

The brusqueness of the letter infuriated Shinji, mostly because he knew that there were forces at work here that he had no knowledge of, and he suspected that this summons could not be refused. It was not a request, it was a demand. His father had the power at the moment, and Shinji was not foolish enough to defy such power. Yet. When he had greater understanding, greater power, then he would crush the bastard. Crush him for abandoning him, for finding him useless up until this moment.

But he would discuss this first with his sensei.

So he waited quietly at the entrance to an abandoned mining complex, his legs tucked beneath him in a lotus position, for his sensei to see fit to make an appearance. He did not have long to wait before he felt the old man’s eyes upon him.

This was the other thing that had been troubling him of late, for he had come to know and understand that his sensei was dying, and had been since his arrival in this place. It had only been recently that it had become noticeable though, although once he realized this simple reflection on the time they had been together over the years made it clear that the one being he could be said to care about was slipping away and had been since before their first meeting.

Bitterly so, Shinji also knew that his sensei was dying for his benefit, although Shinji gladly would have reversed the roles if he could, although he knew that such things were not possible. If they were, his sensei would have already suggested it.

Thus neither one of them had broached the subject, seeing it as a waste of already precious and fleeting time.

Shinji turned his head and immediately hid his shock behind the masks he wore. Today would be the day to talk of such things. The acceleration of his sensei’s condition had just taken a decided turn for the worse in the two days since they had last met.

Bowing his head respectfully, Shinji says, “Sensei, I came to you with news, but I can see that we both have things to share with the other.”

“Indeed,” his sensei rasped, his ancient voice having grown rough and ragged, the innate noble presence in it eroding away but still present.

“Would you prefer I report to you first, or tell your tale?” Shinji asks respectfully.

There is a long pause before his sensei hisses out, “There is little for me to tell. This lost, forgotten realm has sapped at my strength since my arrival here. With so few as talented as you, I have had little strength to draw upon, so I have been forced to burn my own just to survive.”

“And to train me,” Shinji replies coldly, knowing it is true.

“I have railed against my own doom for a long time, and I still refuse to accept it quietly, but when I found you I knew that even if you were not my salvation, then by imparting my wisdom and knowledge to you, a part of me would always live on. As would my brothers,” his sensei says quietly before pulling out the deceptively fragile looking jars he carries on him at all times and placing them in front of Shinji.

Shinji regarded them coldly before saying, “They are…”

“Bound to you now,” his sensei interrupts. “Whether my own declining strength or the fact that in your training they have latched on to you as a new source of sustenance, they will no longer hear my summons. They are yours and yours only to command now Shinji, to protect and be protected.”

Bowing deeply in respect, Shinji says, “Then I shall ensure to take good care of them sensei.”

“Then that is all that needs be said about this matter,” the old man replies dismissively. “What news do you have to report?”

“My father has summoned for me. As much as I dislike him, it is wiser to bow to the wind when you know that it will topple you if you resist. So I must leave this place, for how long I do not know, but I can see now that this will probably be our last meeting,” Shinji explains.

There is a short, comfortable pause before Shinji says almost happily, “There are no coincidences.”

His sensei eyes him wearily for a moment before announcing too in an almost happy tone, “So this is the final part of the fate my Lord has seen fit for me. I am too old to feel bitter at this point, only the satisfaction at having played my part well. I hope.”

Rising to his feet, his antediluvian joints creaking in protest, the old man says, “Then let this parting be a sweet one, the parting of a teacher who no longer has anything to teach a student.”

Shaking his head ruefully, Shinji also rises and says, “That is a bald faced lie and I am disappointed in you sensei for making it so obvious.”

Shrugging, the old man says, “I know,” before unleashing a torrent of crackling blue lighting from his fingertips. Catching the blast of conjured energy with a flick of his own hand, Shinji grounds the blast and with a twitch of his other hand summons the “walking stick” to him.

Drawing his own weapon, his sensei thumbs it to life, filling the antechamber of the mines with a throaty growl. Raising an eyebrow, Shinji questions the wisdom of such an act while simultaneously swatting aside the mental constructs sent his way in the astral plane.

Shinji knew that even with his sensei in such a deteriorated state he was no match in physical or psychic combat. Absolute victory was impossible. Still they fought, for neither one of them would allow Shinji to use that as an excuse. For years they had relentlessly drilled, seeking a level of perfection that both knew it was impossible for Shinji to achieve.

But if a man could not grasp beyond his reach, then what good was life?

Lightning and telekinetic blasts ripped between the two of them as they feinted and parried, Shinji’s solid metal staff clanging off his sensei’s armour while he dodged the maiming sent his way. Already Shinji could have slain a dozen men a hundred times over each, but his blows were as a babe’s wailings against his sensei.

Normally they would have stopped at this point, but as they continued, it sank in that his sensei had meant what he had said. Shinji would have to win this impossible fight to prove his worth.

Shrugging, Shinji spat forth a word that wasn’t a word, wasn’t even a proper sound, while telekinetically drawing the four jars to him. Their lids flew off and in an instant four whirlwinds of dust formed between him, solidifying into four armoured forms that towered as tall as his sensei, their blue and gold bulks forming an implacable, deadly wall between the two combatants, levelling their weapons at Shinji’s sensei.

For just the briefest moments his sensei knew hurt before he burst out laughing and said, “Oh Shinji, I can see that you truly have taken my lessons to heart! Such exquisite treachery!”

Shrugging without dropping his guard, Shinji says, “If they are truly mine then they are my weapons to wield as I see fit, including against you.”

Deactivating the whirring teeth of his axe, his sensei salutes and says, “Very good. Find another master now that our time is over.”

Nodding, Shinji says, “It would shame your honour if I did not seek to better myself, to change for the better.”

Bowing to one another, not another word was exchanged by the two as his sensei receded back into the mine, to make it his tomb. Shinji gathered his things and kept his guards with him until he was well away from the mine, knowing that treachery was part of his lessons. Only when there was a significant danger of someone seeing his otherworldly guardians did Shinji return them to their slumber within their jars.

Arriving at the home of his guardians, he sighed and wondered what exactly he would pack to take with him.

At the very depths of the mine, where the walls grew unstable, Khnemu, Sorcerer of the Thousand Sons, felt the last of his energy begin to slip away like the last grain of sand circling about the cusp of an hourglass. Ten years he had lasted in this gods-forsaken place where his brothers had been killed almost instantly upon arrival.

For ten thousand years he had kept his four brothers, brothers in blood and in battle, at his side, having modified the spell of Ahriman specifically for those four so that they would ever be with him. The cost had been that they drew energy from him, but with Chaos anything is possible.

Including for his ship to become lost in the Warp and actually end up outside the Warp. Upon re-entry into normal space, the other members of the Thousand Sons had dropped dead; their empty armour now truly empty, their souls torn from them as the power they fed on was nowhere to be found.

Khnemu has calmly marched out of the disintegrating ship, his brothers at his side while the daemons bound to the machines screamed and thrashed as their essence began to evaporate into the void, the five of them gunning down any foolish enough to stand in their way. His was the only escape pod to make it away from the doomed ship.

The price he had paid had been significant though, having to draw upon his own reserves of strength instead of the Warp to fuel his brothers. It had been terrifying, but Khnemu was no follower of Nurgle to give into despair so readily. By the time he had managed to haul himself out of the wine-dark sea of this backwards world, he was nearly dead, his energy reserves depleted.

And in the days of quiet contemplation, he knew that whether he was now, he was beyond the gods. This was a place where even the power of Tzeentch could not reach. And yet, in the still void where psykers and daemons should not, could not, exist, Khnemu had found a sad boy who shone brighter than the beacon of the accursed Corpse God, even when his powers were underdeveloped and locked away behind a thousand barriers. Perhaps he shone so bright because he was the only psychic being that could be found, but about his presence, Khnemu could draw power, if only weakly.

At first he attempted to ensorcell the boy, but he was still weak and the boy’s mind was more resistant to such things than anticipated. He got far enough to convince the boy not to run, and instead chose to befriend the child, to share his secrets and pain. His mother dead and his father having abandoned him, he was ripe for taking under the wing.

As the years past, Khnemu trained the boy in the ways of sorcery and Chaos. As the boy’s power grew, so too could Khnemu draw more strength from him, but it was not enough, never enough. Ten thousand years of service to Tzeentch had altered Khnemu, and without the Warp, his body was slowly deteriorating. The only way to draw enough power to sustain him was to teach the boy more potent and complex arts, which required training that sapped his reserves.

The boy would have made an incredible addition to the Thousand Sons, but Khnemu knew that in the race between the boy unlocking more power and Khnemu facing his death, he had long since known the outcome. Still, was Tzeentch not the God of Change, of hope? Khnemu refused to surrender quietly.

Slowly his breathing faded and his hearts slowed, the last grain of sand suspended like a fly caught in amber across a precipice as he slipped into a coma, a hibernation that might give Shinji enough time to fully awaken his true potential. Khnemu refused to believe he had been abandoned, and in fact suspected that he had been sent here to train Shinji.

So that one day he might lead Tzeentch to this dead zone to claim what was rightfully His. All would be His.


Shinji stood before a phone with an annoyed look on his face. Fat lot of good it did him to try and find a shelter when the damn emergency broadcast system refused to cooperate and actually tell him something useful, like where he could find a shelter. Whatever emergency had left this area had also evacuated the brains of whoever was in charge of organization.

Growling in frustration, he took out the only remotely useful communiqué he had received since his father had sent him his summons, a picture of a shameless woman drawing attention to her considerable feminine assets. What was she to think this would be appropriate for a boy his age, a follower of Slaanesh?

It was at that point that he felt a presence prickling at his senses. Turning his head about like a tank turret, he caught a glimpse of a strange girl with pale, almost luminescent white skin, blue hair, and red eyes staring at him, and he immediately knew that he was seeing an astral construct. Before he could formulate his own attack though, the phantom vanished to be replaced by an Earth-shaking tremor.

A presence so large that he had not noticed it up until this point made itself known in his mind, and Shinji knew fear for a moment before he quashed it. Fear was the mind killer, and the mind was the tool Shinji had honed for a decade to be his most potent weapon. His first instinct was to reach towards the sealed canopic jars sitting in his bag, but he quickly suppressed it. He still did not know what this enemy was, and it would not due to reveal his power unless it was truly necessary.

As the ground continued to shake, the roar of jets became apparent, several gunships backing into view with an enormous creature following behind almost childishly. Shinji’s eyes immediately narrowed and he whispered, “Daemon” in a curse. Such a monstrosity was far too powerful for him, for even his sensei. To summon his guardians now would be futile.

As expected, as the missiles roared overhead and impacted, they failed to do anything to the plague-mask beast. An enormous glowing battering ram shot out from the thing’s arm and swatted one of the ships out of the sky, causing it to crash hard near Shinji. With an unearthly glow the daemon took to the air and landed with both feet on the fallen craft, igniting its fuel and unexploded ordnance in an orange fireball. Shinji instinctively threw up a telekinetic barrier to shield himself from the concussion and shrapnel, but he quickly dropped it as a blue sports car screeched to a halt between him and the daemon.

“Get in!” A female voice shouted out, and Shinji immediately threw himself into the car, more concerned with getting away from the ongoing battle than his own humility at his awkward landing. Putting the pedal to the metal, the woman took off as quickly as she arrived.

Misato noted with a raised eyebrow the loud clank as the boy dumped his walking stick, although since it was nearly as tall as him it was probably better considered a staff, in the back so that he had some room to move to get into the seat properly and restrain himself.

“Ah, Katsuragi-san…” Shinji began.

“Call me Misato,” she said with a smile that made Shinji wince as she had turned away from the road to look at him.

“Ah, Misato-san, I was going to say… you’re late,” Shinji said with some annoyance. If she had arrived on time the whole near death thing probably could have been avoided, and people who endangered his life tended to annoy him.

Misato returned his annoyed look before it broke down into something more sheepish and she said, “We weren’t expecting the Angel to attack when we scheduled to pick you up, so I got stuck in evacuation traffic.”

Taking this in, Shinji lightly probed the surface of her mind and found that she was more or less telling the truth. He got the niggling feeling that she might have been running late anyway, but if he probed deeper she would probably notice and comment. Plus distracting her from the road would be a bad thing.

Nodding, Shinji says, “Okay, apology accepted Misato-san.”

For just a moment Misato wondered whether or not she should be the one asking for an apology over the whole matter, but she let it drop. Shinji was a bit of a weird kid; certainly different from the reports on him she had been forwarded about how he behaved in school. She had been expecting someone significantly meeker, more reserved, although after his annoyed outburst he seemed to quiet up considerably, lost in thought gazing out at the aerial battle taking place far too close for comfort even as they retreated away from the war zone.

Near death experiences had a way of bringing out unexpected character traits in people. Misato definitely knew that.

Of course, unbeknownst to her, Shinji was actually examining the battlefield with his mind, keeping his probes away from the daemon, which radiated malevolence. But it was… unrefined, almost childish in its emotions. With a snap of his head, Shinji suddenly felt a spike of fear rush through the pilots as they receive a very emphatic retreat order.

Misato had just stopped the car and pulled out a pair of binoculars to get a look at the battle when Shinji grabbed and hauled her down, crying out, “Get down!” just as the gunships started to fly away.

An instant before Misato could get out an indignant remark the sky flashed white with the dawning of a second sun, and she reversed her struggle so as to protect Shinji where before she had been trying to get out of his grip. He was actually surprisingly strong for his size, his muscles like tightly wound steel cables.

With Misato’s view averted elsewhere, Shinji also managed to erect a telekinetic barrier against the onrushing shockwave threatening to crush them. The car rocked up on two wheels as Shinji’s barrier failed after a second, but it did not roll, instead landing with a suspension punishing lurch.

“How did you…” Misato began questioningly.

Shrugging, Shinji said, “I saw the gunships start to pull away all at once. I figured that meant something big was coming.”

It was a passable lie, and in the chaos of the moment, Misato bought it fully. He had been paying more attention to the battle than her, and he definitely had the look about him of a quiet, sensitive type likely to notice subtle things like that. He certainly had the lineage for the brains to put two and two together.

“Come on, we’re going to meet your father,” Misato said while starting the car back up.

Several hours later, Shinji could only stare in wonder at what was before him. A Titan. They had built a gods-damned Titan. A Daemon-Titan too by the feelings radiating off the soul… or was it souls… he felt trapped within. It was current restrained and inert, requiring a princeps for activation. Shinji could tell from the surface thoughts of Dr. Akagi that they were expecting him to pilot this thing.

His probes also detected another mind watching from above.

He swivelled his head up and looked at a darkened observation window to say coldly, “Hello father,” just a fraction of a second before the lights came on and his father could address him. Shinji realized he was in something of a precarious position. His carefully crafted mask of weakness would crumble if he pushed too hard, but he was loathe to give any more ground than was necessary to the man who thought him useless.

Gendo for his part was caught off-guard, but expertly suppressed the emotion. He had wanted to get the drop on his son, but the moment had been snatched from him before he could say anything. He might have the higher ground, but Shinji had the upper hand at the moment.

“Hello Shinji,” Gendo replied just as coldly, the two women on the catwalk shivering slightly at the chill passing between the two. The slight temperature drop was also caused by Shinji drawing extra energy from his surroundings to throw a minor curse at his father. It was petty but worth it.

Gendo for his part showed incredible resolve not to show any weakness even as he was suddenly overcome by the feeling of thousands of ants crawling beneath his skin. He opened his mouth to speak only to be cut off again by Shinji saying, “I presume that reason I am here is to pilot this thing against the ‘Angel’ besieging the city above us.”

“What?” Misato began only to see the looks on Gendo and Ritsuko’s faces and realize that they meant it.

Cursing inwardly again at his son’s almost prescient ability to usurp his words, Gendo replies, “Yes.”

Shinji glared daggers at his father while the women next to him argued about whether or not he could pilot it. He was tempted to say yes, desperately wanting the power of this Titan, but he bit his tongue and refrained for the moment. His father’s mind was a dense ball of thoughts and emotions tightly bundled away, and surface probes revealed nothing. But a mind honed on the plots of Chaos told him that he was expected to reject the offer.

It annoyed him greatly. His father thought him a weakling, either too pathetic to deny him or too scared to agree to go into combat with a machine he had never seen before, and he expected the latter. He had a card to play still.

Shinji wanted the card played now when it would be useless, rather than not knowing what kind of trump his father held and hope it was not something he could not resist when it mattered later.

“No,” Shinji said simply. “No, I will not pilot this ‘Evangelion’ as you called it. You do not get to abandon me like that and then expect suicidal loyalty.”

Gendo took this in and then said, “This pilot is useless. Begin preparations for Rei to enter Unit 01.”

Shinji ignored the outbursts from Misato and Dr. Akagi protesting such a decision. If there was someone else who could pilot it but they had brought him here instead then…

He suppressed his desire to raise a curious eyebrow at the entrance of a heavily bandaged girl on a gurney being wheeled in; for she looked remarkably like the astral projection he had seen earlier in the day. He detected a significant psychic presence from her, but it was heavily restrained, similar to the state his sensei had found him in.

Shinji’s head swivelled away from the girl like a gun turret acquiring a new target and he said to his father darkly, “So this is what you use, blackmail? Fine, I’ll do it.”

It wasn’t that he cared for the wellbeing of the girl on the stretcher, although he did admit he was interested in learning more about her, it was that he needed to look like he actually had a shred of human sympathy in his body or they would lock him up in foolish, misguided terror of what he could do to him. That would be a mistake and an annoying snag in Shinji’s plans.

His mask was sorely tested when high above the attacking Angel blew through the armour of the city and blew a suspended skyscraper from his mooring. Debris rained down on the Geofront and a section of the ceiling in the Eva cage was knocked free, falling directly for the girl, who had tumbled out of her gurney upon the initial impact.

Shinji grabbed her to haul her out of the way, having moved with speed just on the lower side of superhuman and intending to use his powers to hold the steel girders at bay for a split second to haul them both out of the way. It would do good to make everyone think that he was truly worried about her, and having a Daemon-Titan princeps in his debt was always a useful thing.

Surprisingly, the killer debris was stopped short of crushing the two of them by the Eva lifting its hand to shield them. And in the shadow of that hand, Shinji looked down at the girl he had intended to snatch away to safety, and he knew rage. There was only pain in her single uncovered eye, and he could feel that her spirit had been broken down again and again by forces beyond her control. It made him angry that this unique individual had been ground down, when she should have been worshipped as a goddess for her power.

Was this what his father intended to do to him? Grind him down until he was but an instrument of Gendo’s will?

Putting the unique creature gingerly back on the gurney, Shinji told her, “Rest, regain your strength,” before turning to the Eva and whispering, “Good… you know who your master is…”

A few minutes later and Shinji was sitting in the entry plug of the Evangelion, enjoying the A-10 clips in his hair, how they amplified his mind, although he had the sneaking suspicion that if he tried anything other than telepathy he would blow them apart. As an orange sludge began to fill the plug, he could feel its additional psychic amplification properties, but it wouldn’t do to let them know that he knew that right away.

“Hey! What is this?” Shinji cried out in horror at the rising tide.

“Relax Shinji, its called LCL and its hyper-oxygenated so you can breathe it just fine. It helps with synchronizing with your Eva, and it provides a shock absorber. So just get over it,” Ritsuko replied dismissively.

Shinji kept the frown off his face as he held his breath as the LCL rose over his head until he could expel all the air in his lungs explosively. The human gag reflex meant that he would have probably swallowed much of it if there was still air to be had, rather than actually breathe it in. The taste and smell was awful, somewhat like blood, but he quickly ignored it as inconsequential at the moment.

Power began to flow from the nuclear reactors buried within Central Dogma through the power cable, and a wild grin managed to escape to Shinji’s face before he ruthlessly suppressed it. Power! Power! All the power in the world, to do with as he wished! It was a heady brew, and Shinji had to exert tremendous self-control in order to keep from drowning in the power he sought.

As the power flowed, it also awoke the savage daemon bound to this Titan, stirring it from its slumber. As he had suspected, it was a raging beast, certainly of the character of the god Khorne his sensei had described. Neither knew if such creatures could exist in this place, but if this beast were to have a god, it would certainly follow the mad deity of senseless slaughter and destruction.

Shinji ruthlessly clamped down on the beast, its soul restrained by the machines and… something else. Another soul perhaps? It was a distant presence, unwilling to share its identity readily, too occupied as it was holding down the daemon bound within. A powerful entity indeed then, one worthy of his respect.

You have my gratitude.

Shinji received back a rush of thanks and… pride? It was almost as if this presence knew him. He would have to learn more about the Evas, especially since from the discussion about him he doubted he was supposed to actually know about these other minds. Apparently they were worried about the way his sync ratio kept spiking up and down and that there was some danger of contamination.

Easing back on his communion with the bound spirits, Shinji waited until those monitoring him seemed satisfied that the situation was stable. And then Misato shouted “Eva launch!” and Shinji found his body pressed into his acceleration couch as the Eva was fired towards the surface on electromagnetic rails.

Shinji exited on the surface just behind the attacking Angel and cursed the stupidity of whoever had assigned this position; he didn’t even know how to make this thing walk… yet…

He started to laugh, a sick, hysterical laugh that sounded more like terrified screaming than anything joyous. If this was how his father wanted to play this game then he would make him regret this course of action.

Down on the command bridge of Central Dogma the staff was frantic as everything started to go out of control, but not in any way they had ever experienced before.

“Sync ratio is climbing but we’re losing the pattern!” Lieutenant Maya Ibuki cried out frantically.

“That’s impossible! That doesn't even make sense!” Ritsuko cried back, but she could see it happening on the display screens. The signal was flowing backwards and forwards, nerve connections were forming and breaking at random, often crossing over, and through it all, Shinji’s frantic screams could be heard over the link.

“Cut audio, the pilot is clearly out of his mind right now,” Gendo orders coldly, to everyone’s shock. They should be recalling the poor boy, but instead they were just going to ignore his cries. The audio line went dead.

Shinji was normally the eye of the hurricane, but there was Chaos within him too. So he inversed the situation and turned the barrier between him and Chaos into the barrier between him and the outside world. He was a tornado; fickle and picky, but infinitely more destructive to that which it was directed. Even the daemon quailed at this sudden burst of madness, although the other presence seemed more… disappointed at this behaviour than anything else.

Cackling with mad glee, he directed his thoughts at the approaching Angel and told them This is that which threatens US; that threatens all that WE are; that WE may do. It must DIE!

The Eva howled in mad glee as the berserker spirit was told to do its thing, to rip and tear at the offending Angel, while Shinji and the other presence held the leash and offered strategic advice. The Eva ducked beneath one of the glowing battering ram arms and slammed right into a glowing barrier put forth by the Angel to shield its body. The Eva simply tore the field apart and plunged forward, tackling the surprised Angel.

The Angel’s eyes flashed the helmet of Unit 01 was blown off in a purple blast that branched off into a giant cross shaped flare. Unit 01 bit into the Angel’s plague-mask face while its hands dug into the flesh of its gut, spraying blue-purple blood and gore everywhere as the two gargantuan monstrosities fought. The Angel tried to get one of its hands around the Eva’s exposed head, to batter it at point blank range. Still trailing ropes of something from the Angel’s guts, Unit 01 intercepted the arm and savagely snapped it along an angle it should not have been at just before ripping the face off with its mouth.

The Angel, seeing its own demise approaching, obviously decided that it would take out its foe with it, and tried to wrap itself around the Eva as it self destructed, but Shinji and the spirits bound to the machine would have none of that, instead punching it in the core so hard the crystal cracked and forcing the Angel back down to the ground just as it went critical in a cross shaped flare that could be seen across much of Japan.

Standing at ground zero, the three souls within the Eva cried their triumph just as the internal batteries ran down, the cable having been severed shortly after it went berserk. Shinji felt that with the right application of will, he could force the machine to keep acting without an external supply, but the strain wasn’t worth it. Their enemy was splattered across them, no need to overdo things.

Yet.


Shinji woke shortly after he was put to bed in one of NERV’s medical facilities, and spent the rest of the night and well into the morning re-centering his mind. A spot of madness now and then was rather cathartic, but he could not indulge too often, lest he lose the calm required to ride the storms of Chaos he created. There was nothing more embarrassing than being ensnared by your own plots because you failed to pay attention to what was happening.

As Shinji sat upon his bed, slowly breathing in and out, he began to sketch out the ties that bound these people together, the flow of power, and all the other bits of information he would need to gain control, even if it was from the shadows. He knew depressingly little, and had almost as much power in this situation.

His first step then would be to learn and build up his power base. That would require short term sacrifices of what power he had, and he would probably have to make some compromises. The bastard Gendo already had him under his thumb, but not as firmly as he thought. Better to play the fool and servant now than be the fool and servant later.

First he would have to begin the acquisition of resources and making contacts. He was quite good with money and had managed to set up a few difficult to trace accounts through which he had stashed away some valuable investments. Not exactly earth-shatteringly valuable, but significantly more than most children his age. With the resources flowing through NERV, he figured he could probably pull some out of his father one way or another. Money in turn would help with building contacts in various ways.

He had already, in his limited contact with them, begun building a friendly relationship with the maintenance crew of Unit 01. It was only sensible that the people you trusted with your life be treated well and taken care of. Shinji was also planning on furthering his relationship with Misato, as her position as tactical commander made her a useful ally to have, although he was rather curious about her personality. The dissonance between her seemingly air-headed natured and her position terrified him on several levels. And while he doubted he could gain Ritsuko as an ally, he would need to do something about her eventually. Her knowledge combined with the monitoring equipment in the Eva would make using his full abilities problematic.

Finally, there was Rei, an enigma to him for the most part, his brief brush with her mind revealing absolutely nothing, although the wall of pain at the time made things difficult to read. Still, there was a vast power beneath the surface, perhaps even greater than his. She was a pawn of Gendo’s, she had enormous psychic potential, and she was a fellow pilot. Individually each of those items was worth further study; in sum total they demanded immediate attention and extensive long term planning.

It would not do to let Gendo control such power, especially when it could be his to command.

There were so many pieces to sort through, so many strings to gather and tug at. A lesser mind would have quailed at such things, but Shinji had been mentored by a sorcerer of the Thousand Sons. He had spent the past decade with plots and conspiracies as his food and drink. And loathsome as it was to admit, he was also his father’s son. He would figure something out.

Feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, Shinji slipped out of his bed and picked up his staff, which despite outward appearances of being made from wood, was actually a ten kilo pole of metal that had some unusual modifications. Despite being a sorcerer, his sensei had still come from a martial tradition and believed that training the body was almost as important as training the mind.

A slow smile crept over Shinji’s face as he went through a series of slowed down motions with his staff. This was actually more difficult than full speed because maintaining the heavy pole in the proper positions put serious strain on his muscles. It was not enough that he be able to use the staff, he had to master each movement. He still had a long way to go, but he managed to perfect a few patterns already.

This was why he smiled. Chaos was all things, including order. Break anything down, and there were laws that governed their actions. Take each individual piece and it could stand on its own, perfect and refined. It was the patterns they made when strung together that confused and terrified lesser minds. By mastering each movement, Shinji could create an infinite series of patterns at will. The next piece of an attack could not be predicted because every tiny twitch of his muscles had to stand alone, a perfect expression of form independent of previous and future states.

This was Chaos, utter perfection of the moment, allowing for action without regard for antecedent or subsequent action. It was freedom in its ultimate form. Despite their outward decay, the disciples of Nurgle were held in a stasis of the moment, able to simply shrug off perturbations to their brand of perfection. The berserkers that followed Khorne made the swirling mayhem of battle their sole focus of their attention, but still they sought perfection of the arts of war. Acolytes of Slaanesh sought perfection in all things, from battle to physical sensation; they pushed themselves to extremes to master anything they chose to pursue.

And then there was Tzeentch, the god Shinji would follow if he could. Tzeentch taught that the ultimate perfection was of the self, the evolution of the mind, body, and soul, and that in the end, such things were impossible, for there was always a way to change, to be better. In a way this limited the freedom of Chaos, for emphasis on the moment was lost, the component of the future added in, but if one controlled all the pieces of the moment, control of the future followed.

Finishing his final kata, his muscles aching pleasantly from the exertion, Shinji does a few stretches before setting his staff down next to the rest of his things and then leaving the hospital room to try and learn some more about his surroundings. It was midmorning already, and a wan, pale light was filtering down through a partly cloudy sky, rolling green hills visible in the distance, their colour washed grey by the diffuse sunshine. It was as if the whole world was numb from the arrival of the Angels.

Shinji felt a strange presence pricking at his mind, and he slowly turned his head down the corridor to find a large hospital bed being wheeled down the corridor. Even before the subject lying still on it came into view, he knew it was Rei. Other than himself and his sensei, she was the only other being he knew of with any psychic potential.

As she passed in the hallway, his eyes locked with her one good eye and for a brief instant their minds connected. She did indeed hold a vast power within her, but it was damned up behind dozens of layers. What little leaked out she did seem to understand, but her usage was mostly instinctive. Thus she was clearly surprised and confused to find another mind reaching out for her own.

What Shinji got through the link was a cold, emotionless blur, devoid of any true desires, her soul broken through unknown abuses. It was an identity without wants, without hopes, defined only by its lack of definition. As far as Shinji was concerned, Ayanami Rei was the most horrifying creature he had ever encountered, the antithesis of his being. He would have to change that.

From Rei’s perspective, she was terrified by the vast mind lurking behind those dark eyes, a mind of frightful complexity that she could only glimpse at. He was a boiling sea of emotions that ran counter to everything she thought she knew about existence. He was strong and confident, and she felt lost in his vastness. And yet, she was also strangely drawn into those eyes, a resonance between the two of them, some deeper connection neither could understand.

And then the moment was over, contact broken as Rei’s bed was wheeled past and turned down another corridor.

Shinji then spent the next few hours wandering the halls, crafting a new mask for himself. The old one, of a meek introvert, still had its uses, but that was unsuited to this task. This was war. War against the Angels. War against his father. He needed a new face for this task, a war face. The empathetic warrior, walking amongst the wounded in the aftermath of the battle, more concerned with the wounds of others than his own.

Inwardly he was laughing, for as with all the best lies, it was true. Shinji was incredibly empathetic, as he had cultivated more than one way to get into the skulls of others. He could quite easily place himself in another’s shoes and see the world from their eyes. But like a good chess player, it was merely so that he could see what his opponents were thinking. He could feel and understand their pain and suffering, and simultaneously not care. They were not him; their problems were not his problems unless he chose to make them so. Shinji was overflowing with empathy, but he had but a few drops of sympathy.

Shinji was about ready to return to his assigned room, retrieve his things, and see if he could sign out of the hospital, when the doors to the elevator in front of him opened up and his father stepped out. Shinji caught a snatch of a thought, of Gendo remembering the path to Rei’s room, and he knew why the bastard was here.

“Hello father,” Shinji says icily, taking the initiative.

“Hello son,” Gendo replies, his voice lacking any signs of paternal warmth.

“We need to talk father,” Shinji states.

“Not now,” Gendo says, attempting to brush Shinji off as if he were some sort of piece of dirt on his clothes.

“We need to talk about my demands for piloting Eva,” Shinji states.

“‘Demands’?” Gendo says, as if the word disgusted him in its basic form.

“Yes father, demands. I do not want you holding Rei’s well-being over my head like the Sword of Damocles every time you want me to pilot. Eventually she will recover, and unless you intend to keep injuring her to ensure my compliance that means that my presence will no longer be so necessary. I feel that a more civilized arrangement must be made. I want a million yen a month as salary and hazard pay, I figure I deserve something to enjoy in life if I am going to rush out and try and end it every time an Angel shows up, and exchange I’ll be the perfect little soldier. No need for threats and blackmail. Bribery will work just fine,” Shinji explains in a simple and matter of fact tone.

There was a long pause as father and son glared at one another, neither quite knowing Gendo’s glasses were blocking or enhancing the vitriol passing between their eyes, before finally Gendo said, “Fine. You’ll have your first cheque tomorrow.”

Before Gendo could leave, Shinji added on, “And it’s poor professionalism to ask for such a significant raise and not request that my co-workers be given similar benefits, especially on the second day of the job.”

Gendo paused for a moment and Shinji managed to steal a few, confusing thoughts that surfaced from his oceanic mind before saying dismissively, “Pilot Ayanami has no need of such things.”

“Why?” Shinji pressed.

Gendo realized he had made a slight tactical blunder by revealing something like that before he said, “She is well taken care of already, and she, unlike you, is unconcerned with petty materialism.”

Touché father, touché. Still, he had given up an important piece of information. Shinji wasn’t quite sure what, but it was important.

“If she does not wish such a salary, then that is her concern, but if she asks for it, you would be obliged to accede to her demands, no?” Shinji recovers nicely.

Damn near everyone in the hospital shuddered at the frigid glare at passed between them before they both parted. Both hated the other’s guts more than ever now, and both wanted to know what games the other was playing.

Shinji left with a smirk on his face. Had his father known his lust for power, he probably could have simply told Shinji to pilot it and Shinji would have complied. He wasn’t about to let a Titan slip from his fingers. But now… now he had sold his obedience, something already free in this instance, for a million yen a month. He probably could have gone higher, but a million was a nice childishly large number and he didn’t want to risk pushing his father too hard. The man was unlikely to haggle.

Upon his return to his room to collect the things that had been left there for him, Shinji found Misato looking for him in the nearby hallway. She looked tired, no doubt from working through much of the night and then getting up early to work some more. Alien attacks tended to create paperwork.

“Good afternoon Shinji-kun,” Misato said to him warmly all the same.

Inclining his head in a respectful demi-bow, Shinji replies, “Good afternoon Misato-san.”

Eyeing his staff and bags, she said, “Ready to get out of here I see.”

Grinning sheepishly, Shinji says, “Well, I ah… don’t particularly like hospitals.” A true statement, although he had no great antipathy for them either, he just embellished his tone to let her fill in the blanks.

Smiling, Misato says, “Neither do I. Now come on, I’m here to take you to your new home.”

“Oh?” Shinji asks. Just so long as it wasn’t with his father, he would be fine, although wherever he went would inevitably be filled with bugs. That would be irritating and troublesome in the long run.

“Yup! Now come on, let’s get you out of this depressing hospital,” Misato says, taking Shinji by the hand and leading him out of the building to her still battered and dented blue sports car.

After Shinji had finished putting his stuff in the back seat, Misato asked him cheerfully but warily, “So why do you have such a heavy walking stick?”

Buckling in, Shinji quickly formulates his response. ‘Because my psychic super soldier sensei demanded that I have a weapon capable of taking a few blows from a chainsaw axe’ just wouldn’t do really. He had an answer after a little less than a second, but he decided to play it out for a full three seconds, even summoning up a little flustered blush before he finally said slowly and haltingly, “Well… I liked to walk in the woods of my old town, and so I started bringing walking sticks… and I guess I wanted to be stronger… so that maybe people would notice me… so I started finding bigger and bigger sticks… until one day I found a metal pole… but I didn’t want people to think I was weird… so I made it look like it was just another wooden one.”

Misato looked at him passively for a little while before smiling and saying, “And did it work?”

“I… I suppose I did get stronger,” Shinji says almost pathetically. Again, he didn’t lie; he just understated just how strong he was. For whatever genetic reasons, he had yet to really have any growth spurts and his muscles were all of the ropey, scrawny kind, but he could just about bench press about half his own body mass. Of course, he could also throw this car across the block with telekinesis, but that was cheating.

Shinji liked to cheat. Or as his sensei had put it, “Win and you get to rewrite the rules so that it was fair retroactively. Then laugh at the fools who complain about this.”

They drove in a comfortable silence for a time, before Misato spoke up again and asked, “So, you like to take walks in the woods?”

Nodding, Shinji says, “It lets me get away from others, enjoy the peace and silence.”

Misato looked saddened by that, and asked, “Why do you enjoy being alone Shinji-kun?”

Shinji frowned for a moment as he formulated the perfect response to that, before saying, “People are always filled with pain and troubles, and it can hurt if I’m surrounded by that all the time… so I just like to escape from that when it becomes unbearable for me.”

Another twisted truth, in that being surrounded by petty idiots who were too weak to confront their problems properly tended to drive him nuts with its obnoxiousness. It was always words like that left out that made people think he was more of a sensitive introvert than was actually true. The lack of words like that also deluded people into thinking that he actually cared for them and their problems.

Frowning at this for several silent moments, Misato finally replies, “Well, you know what they say: Shared pain is lessened, shared joy increased.”

That’s because ignorance is bliss and the intelligence of a group is inversely proportional to the number of people in it Shinji thought in annoyance at the inanity of that statement, but he just replied with a properly melancholy and insincere, “I suppose…”

“Well cheer up, you’ll be at your new home soon,” Misato says, suddenly cheerful, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

Looking out the window of the car to brood for a moment, Shinji says, “I doubt it will be with my father.”

“Oh come now Shinji-kun, he’s your father,” Misato points out.

“Ever since mom died we haven’t got along at all. The two of us couldn’t live together,” Shinji says bitterly and without fabrication or omission. The fact that the reason they couldn’t live together was because they would probably attempt to kill one another the first day if forced to live together was a completely different subject. And as the one who could throw lightning from his finger tips and make heads explode with a thought, Shinji was mostly certain who would win. Only mostly because his father was a clever bastard and there was a small possibility he had some sort of counter to such attacks.

“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad,” Misato says somewhat dismissively, somewhat teasingly, and somewhat worriedly.

“Wait and see,” Shinji says sourly.


By the Gods! How could this have happened? He was this close to living alone with just the expected eavesdropping bugs to contend with, when suddenly Misato got the bright idea to take him under her wing. Subtle psychic persuasion had been insufficient to steer her away from such a course of action, her indomitable will easily shoving aside his smaller probes, and he feared that nothing short of deep, and eye-glowingly obvious, attack would get the results he wanted.

Although he did at least admire the fact that she actually had that much willpower. It seemed that once she set her mind on something, she stuck to it, and damn near nothing could deter her from her chosen path.

Now they were on a highway outside of the city, a bag of groceries on Shinji’s lap, and Shinji wondering exactly what sort of hell he had just been signed up for.

“Where are we going?” He asked quietly.

“Somewhere special,” Misato replies before pulling off the highway to an observation area that overlooked Tokyo-3.

Getting out of the car, Shinji could not help but be unimpressed. The city was so desolate looking, hardly the great work it was often hailed as being.

Misato looked at her watch and said, “Here we go…”

The wail of dozens of sirens arose from the distant city, and with the sounds of great machines rumbling to life, huge covers began to open up and then skyscrapers began to rise from the Earth, the city that had been suspended from the top of the Geofront yesterday rising up into natural light today.

For one of the few times in his life, Shinji could not contain his glee. On one level he was thrilled to see that this city was practically a giant tribute to the God of Change, capable of altering its form so radically between combat and peace. On another level, the fourteen year old boy in him could only think about how cool something like this was.

“They’re rising from the ground! That’s awesome!” Shinji exclaimed excitedly.

Smiling at the sudden change from his often quiet and sullen moods, Misato says, “This city is a fortress designed to stand against the Angels. This is Tokyo-3. This is our city, and it’s the city that you saved.”

With the sun setting in the background, Shinji reached out as if to grasp it all. To Misato, it appeared that he was trying to embrace it all. What Shinji was actually doing was making a silent promise that one day this would all be his.

The rest of the car ride was pleasantly quiet, with Misato making a bit of small talk while Shinji found himself incapable of keeping up his mask of moping after seeing something like that, so he just smiled and made the occasional comment. By the time they arrived at her apartment block, it was night out.

“The rest of your stuff should have been delivered by now. I just moved in myself,” Misato says as they walk to her apartment from the elevator. There were indeed the boxes Shinji had shipped out her waiting for them at the door.

“Come on inside Shinji, this is your home now,” Misato says warmly.

Hesitating for just a second, Shinji steps over the threshold and says, “I’m home.”

“Oh, if you wouldn’t mind, could you put the groceries in the fridge?” Misato says while heading off to what Shinji presumed was either her room or the bathroom.

Stepping into the kitchen and main living area, Shinji had to fight the urge to drop the bags and fall to his knees in agonized screaming. There was Chaos, and then there was this! Bags of garbage on the floor, magazines scattered everywhere, and the crumpled beer cans probably outnumbered the inevitable vermin.

He revised his original thoughts of her being a follower of Slaanesh. She was a damned Slaaneshi daemon princess she was!

Examination of her fridge revealed nothing but beer and instant food packages. Shinji felt less healthy just looking at this stuff. He glanced over at the other refrigerator and asked, “What’s in that refrigerator?”

“Oh, he’s probably just sleeping,” Misato answered back unhelpfully.

Groaning, Shinji wondered again just what he had been signed up for.

Within half an hour, Shinji was staring in mute awe of Misato in a sleeveless yellow shirt, tight denim shorts, and clearly no bra. He wasn’t staring at her feminine assets though, just at the way she demolished yet another beer and laid into the feast of microwavable food laid out on the table.

Maybe if I seal the apartment with Symbols of Chaos I can control this daemon… damn it, sensei only skimmed over daemon summoning! And I don’t know nearly enough about Slaanesh to hope to control this daemon princess!

Finishing off the beer she was chugging, Misato slams it down into the table and lets out a loud, enthusiastic bellow before saying, “Life doesn’t get much better than this, does it Shinji?”

Shinji declined to comment on Genghis Khan’s views on the subject, but rather he said, “Is all this really necessary?”

“Of course it is silly!” Misato exclaimed while cracking open another can of beer. What, did her body think ethanol was water? “This is your welcoming party!”

Sighing, Shinji just shakes his head and tries to find something Misato hadn’t smothered in the thick, sludge-like hot sauce she slathered all over her food. It seemed to be a combination of crystalline capsaicin dissolved in sulphuric acid with raw wasabi added in for flavour. Shinji was fairly certain the stuff could overload the taste buds of an Emperor’s Children space marine.

In his conversations with her, he quickly started to realize that her Slaaneshi traits ran from the obvious towards the subtle. Like with the Prince of Pleasure, Misato’s drinking and party attitude was not solely for its own end, it was merely that once she set her heart towards something, she was going to push that aspect of her character to the limit. While he had been too busy going berserk the previous night to pay attention to what she was saying, the fact that she was the NERV tactical commander indicated that she was an exemplary soldier and commander.

And now she seemed to have set her sights on being a mother to him, although he doubted she truly understood that herself yet. Her attempts were ham-fisted and clumsy, but damn it if she wasn’t going to give it her all. The thought of a Slaaneshi being motherly both intrigued and terrified Shinji, and he knew to his chagrin that he would experience such a thing first hand.

This also required him to further modify the nascent plans he had with Misato. She had pushed the soldier aspect of her personality already, so combining that with this newly awakened motherly facet was a recipe for instant mother bear action. The trick was to ensure that she always thought of him as her cub, which meant that he had to be careful when manipulating her. She could be a useful guardian, but she would demand that he remain loyal to her.

If he did ever find need to betray her, she would have to die instantly, hopefully before she even realized what had happened. That way on the off chance that ‘instant death’ turned into ‘not quite dead’, she wouldn’t know it. Never forget back-up plans for the low probability eventualities. Those were the things that tended to bite you in the ass.

Of course, there was also the part of Shinji that was still four, crying on a beach, all alone in the world now that his mother had disappeared through the veil of mortality and his father had abandoned him, who could only stare in awe as the being that would become his sensei walked out the waves like some ancient god. Despite the plots, the pain, the frequent betrayals, his sensei had actually cared for him, his harsh teaching merely a method of expressing his fondness, such as it was. His sensei came from a harsh place, and he demanded strength. He had shown infinite patience in his tutoring of the young boy to grow him from the weakling he once was, and had never pushed Shinji harder than the boy could tolerate.

And Shinji missed that. A strange paternal bond had grown between the two of them in their secret studies, a twisted sort of love between two twisted individuals. They had accepted one another unconditionally, had known that even if one stabbed the other in the back they would still care for the other afterward.

Who was he to say that he could not care for this messed up woman, to develop a strange maternal bond between them, a twisted sort of love for two twisted individuals?

Oh, that was right, the student of a Thousand Sons sorcerer; a worshipper of the Scheming God Tzeentch.

He would not sell Misato’s life and loyalty cheaply, but for the right price, everything could be sold. For Misato, the price was not monetary, or even necessarily for power, but he could think of a few offers that could be made that he would accept.

Once dinner was finished, Misato proceeded to demolish Shinji at rock-paper-scissors over who got to do what chores. Of course, Shinji was trying to lose and psychic powers made predicting what she was going to do very simple. Had he not tried to blow every single round, he still probably would have been demolished. Misato was terrifyingly good at reading him, and he had to increasingly close himself off to make sure she didn’t pick up to the fact that he was plucking her moves right out of her brain.

Once he had been assigned everything but the laundry, a task that he didn’t particularly care for, he feigned displeasure at having so much to do, and grumbling he began to clean up the table. Inwardly he was overjoyed. This apartment would never be clean if Misato had to do the chores, and the act of cleaning was to change one’s environment, to act against decay and entropy, things that pleased Tzeentch. It was a small thing, but there were small things and big things in life, and the small ones came around more often.

Feeling the length of the day and the day before starting to weigh down on him, Shinji decided to take a bath before going to bed. No need to smell like a Nurgle worshipper, especially since the shower he got after climbing out of the entry plug was better described as a hosing down.

After striping down, he opened the door to the bathroom, only to discover a penguin on the other side. The two of them looked at one another for a moment before Shinji shrugged and they traded places.

He was either hallucinating from Misato’s chilli sauce, or he had just seen a penguin exit the bathroom. Either one confirmed the fact that he was in a den of Chaos. Perhaps not the kind he would have preferred, but he could deal with Chaos.

After enjoying a good long soak in which to clear his mind, Shinji went to the room Misato had set aside for him. His stuff was all still in boxes, but he made sure that before he went to bed he set up a small shrine. Atop a small wooden table he laid out a blue cloth embroidered with the Star of Chaos and the Eye of Tzeentch, and then set down the canopic jars that held the dust of his undying guardians.

He was bowed down in silent prayer to a god that might only exist in the tales of his sensei when Misato stuck her head in to check in on him.

“What’s that Shinji-kun?” She asked curiously.

Smiling sadly, Shinji said, “In my old town I was very good friends with an old man, the last member of his family. Just before I left, he gave me the ashes of his brothers to take care of, for he knew his time was coming soon and he did not want them to sit forgotten, no one to remember their names; who they were.”

Misato nearly rushed Shinji to wrap him up in a bawling hug, to tell him that he didn’t have to be so selfless and noble, that he was just a kid, but instead she just said, “I’m proud of you Shinji-kun,” before turning away to hide the tears forming in her eyes.

When she was safely out of view, Shinji let a snake-like smirk cross his face.

Hot damn I’m good!

An interesting story. I like the way you portrayed Shinji as a devotee of Tzeentch. By the way, will you actually portray Misato as a daemon of Slaanesh, i.e., a hermaphrodite with psyker powers and a desire to take pleasure from all things, including the pain and suffering of others?

Charles Bhepin, for being fucking awesome with Shinji and Warhammer 40k

I haven't read that yet. Do you have a link?

Shinji is mostly exaggerating for effect there, although you can probably figure out the end game of this story with minimal effort.

And here isShinji and Warhammer 40k, also posted in the Fanfiction.net: The good bits thread on page 7. The guy writing it is a machine. An awesome machine that churns out pure awesome in awesome quantities. He's posted 110k+ words in less than a month, and apparently he got the idea on November 9, so he wrote 20-30k words in about 2 days.

*blinks*

This is a very interesting idea. Shinji as a devotee of Tzeentch. Thats an approach I never would have considered. Very very interesting, I would really like to see this continue.

Now *this* is certainly an interesting premise; perhaps one of your best yet. Shinji as a devotee of Tzeentch (incidentally, my favorite Chaos god)? Yes, by all means, count me as a fan of this idea. I like the thought of Shinji behaving like a young Palpatine, and the addition of psychic powers and four soul-bound Chaos Space Marines only makes the situation that much more... amusing, I suppose. Incidentally, what would Shinji's psyker classification be in 40k terms--Gamma, Delta, or higher still?

On that note, may I ask where the NGE Earth stands in overall 40k canon? That is to say, is it actually the Holy Terra of M03 or some other alternate-reality incarnation of the above? I only ask because, if this is indeed the Holy Terra of 40k's distant past, it is possible that the God-Emperor may also be lurking somewhere on the planet, and that Shinji ought not to play his hand too openly, lest he attract some unwanted attention from the future sovereign of mankind...

Dominus wrote:On that note, may I ask where the NGE Earth stands in overall 40k canon? That is to say, is it actually the Holy Terra of M03 or some other alternate-reality incarnation of the above? I only ask because, if this is indeed the Holy Terra of 40k's distant past, it is possible that the God-Emperor may also be lurking somewhere on the planet, and that Shinji ought not to play his hand too openly, lest he attract some unwanted attention from the future sovereign of mankind...

Considering that the Emperor's name, place of birth, time of birth, etc., are all unknowns (statements that he was born in Anatolia in 8000 BC have been declared apocryphal, according to Wikipedia), who's to say Shinji himself will not become disillutioned with Tzeentch and become the future God-Emperor of Man?

While loath to spoil things, I figure I can clear this up since it should probably have been more obvious before.

Khnemu's problem was that, for all intents and purposes, this place is a null warp zone. The ship he was blew up because all the daemons bound to it more or less evaporated without anything to sustain them, and for the sorcerer it was like trying to survive without oxygen on Everest. He expended a lot of energy manifesting his brothers so that he could get the fuck out of dodge.

For all intents and purposes, not only is Shinji one of the few psykers on the planet, he's one of the few sources of Warp energy in the solar system, the others being the Angels, the Evas, and the pilots and pilot candidates.

Interpret that as you will.

Shinji was getting annoyed. He was a being of change, of control, and right now he had neither. It was long past time to correct that situation.

The Eva sized rifle in Unit 01’s hands suddenly switched from targeting the Angel in the distance to a significantly closer skyscraper, hosing them down with 105mm penetrator rounds. The damage would have been mostly superficial had Shinji not pulled up his advanced targeting displays and used them to target the internal struts and shred them instead of sending most of his rounds straight through the structure.

Shinji watched impassively as the building toppled into one of its neighbours, setting up a domino effect that soon reached one of the weapon stores and set off a chain reaction that blew up a good chunk of the Tokyo-3 downtown along with Unit 01. This forced a system reset, ending the current incarnation of the simulation.

“Shinji, what do you think you’re doing?” Misato screamed over the radio.

“Voicing my displeasuring in the only way I could considering no one was listening to me. Misato-san, these simulations are too easy,” Shinji said with a hint of fake childish petulance mixed in with real boredom.

“Shinji-kun, you need to learn the basics first. And this simulation is based off the data from your fight with the Third Angel,” Misato replies, still angry with him but most of the outrage fading from her voice.

“No, it’s not. All the briefings you gave me said that the Angels are supposed to learn and adapt. The data you’re using is clearly based off the Third Angel before it was hit by the N2 mine. Chimps can be trained to point and shoot at something that stupid. This isn’t combat training; it’s a multi-billion dollar first person shooter,” Shinji replied coldly.

At her station, Ritsuko shivered. Sometimes she would forget that the boy piloting the Eva was Gendo’s son, but every once in a while he showed his inner bastard. The boy could be far too clever by half sometimes.

Frowning, Misato says, “Fine. If you’re going to be that stubborn, what is your proposal?”

“Allow the simulated Angel to learn between simulations, allow the program to make adjustments to its strength, speed, and durability based on my previous actions. Add a mutation factor so that there will be growth in unexpected directions as well,” Shinji details out.

Frowning, Ritsuko says, “Increasing the strength, speed, and durability are fairly easy, but actual learning and the mutation factor would take quite a bit of time to program. Not only that, but if we increase the durability too much then the Angel could become immune to conventional weapons even if you neutralize its AT-field first.”

“And that would be unrealistic how Dr. Akagi?” Is Shinji’s response.

A hush descends over the control room as everyone considers the validity of that statement. They knew next to nothing about the Angels, that one of these creatures might be immune to the weapons they were giving Shinji was not impossible. In fact, there was a chance that it was likely.

Nodding, Misato turns to Ritsuko and says, “Begin modifying the simulation. Shinji’s right. If we train him to fight the last battle we’ll lose the next one. He’d already figured out fire control, as demonstrated by his little stunt, he needs to learn actual combat now, against a challenging enemy.”

Nodding, Ritsuko and the other MAGI technicians begin updating the parameters for the next simulation while also working out how to get the supercomputers to do this automatically while not overwhelming Shinji, and to add the mutation factor he asked for. Within a few minutes they had the next simulation prepared so that they could have Shinji continue his training.

Several hours later Shinji was hauled out of his entry plug, physically and mentally exhausted by the training. He hadn’t even realized how hard he was pushing himself he was so exhilarated by exposure to the Evangelion, but when he fainted in the last encounter even he had to admit that it was time to call it quits for the day.

He also knew that the weapons designers were going to have to go into overdrive. A mere 50% increase in the toughness of the Angel’s body and core had made it nearly completely immune to the weapons he had been using, as at that point even without an AT field the Angel could shrug off enough damage to quickly regenerate. They needed a weapon that caused tremendous damage to hard and soft tissue, where “soft” for an Angel meant “tougher than structural steel and thicker than battleship armour”.

Shinji had already made a few queries about how the AT field was projected that would hopefully let him have a force weapon by the end of the year, perhaps even sooner with the speeds at which people worked around here. Maybe with something like that he could start “experimenting” with his AT field. The thought of being able to throw lightning from an Eva filled him with a glee that would terrify most people.

The past week had been filled with long, boring lectures and discussions on the piloting of Unit 01 and discussions of what was known of the Angels, with frequent synchronization tests and the occasional combat simulation. Only today had they finally decided to give him some full training with the weapons. That unfortunately rapidly degenerated into endless repetitions of “Centre on the target and then pull the trigger.”

Now though, he definitely had the respect of a lot of people down here, and better yet, he was learning how not to get himself killed in this thing. The berserker daemon inside the Eva could be rather difficult to handle, and in fact Shinji suspected that he wasn’t supposed to be dominating it, but rather syncing with the other spirit in there so that his commands could be passed on. It seemed like a rather backwards way to do things really, but he made sure to keep a link to the other soul so that he wasn’t moving Unit 01 around with a 12% sync ratio. He had settled in at around a 55% ratio, as that let his commands be almost doubled in strength without distracting him too much from controlling the daemon and being capable of paying attention and reacting to his situation.

Once safely on his feet, his eyes drooping from the strain, he smiled and thanked the ground crew around him, basking in the pride and respect they were beaming at him. He was their pilot, and they were his ground crew. They were useful pawns, but for now Shinji was content for them to simply worship him, such as it was.

People were such simple animals to control. Just show them a sliver of respect when you had power over you, and they would grovel at your feet like dogs demanding more scraps. A kind word here, a smile there, and they were putty in your hands. A little anger now and then when you were clearly and unequivocally in the right, and they would bow down to you as a king. So wise, so noble, so kind they would say.

And then you could tell them to march off a cliff and they would call you glorious.

Already, Shinji had ideas to further cement their loyalty to him. Perhaps he should ask for a rallying banner; a flag around which his pawns could flock. Humans did so love symbols, and if he could somehow get the eight-pointed Star of Chaos emblazoned on his Eva, so much the better. He would have to see if the seeds he had planted would start sprouting soon.

Who thought that painting a giant monster smashing mecha purple was a good idea? Seriously, who? Ah well, he had already heard a few of the techs commenting on how dark blue with gold would look better. There was also talk of how as humanity’s hope for the future, there should be more hopeful imagery on it. Maybe something featuring rebirth or renewal?

Scarabs perhaps? To the Japanese they would seem exotic, and the use of an ancient civilization would give the Eva a timeless, eternal feel. This was the greatest work of man, and it would stand for eternity in opposition to the Angels!

Ah, nothing like word here, an idle conversation there to get people thinking that your ideas were theirs. Another month and Shinji would have the ground crew demanding to redo Unit 01’s armour into something suitably Egyptian during the next refit cycle. And none would ever know where this idea had come from; just that it seemed to have spontaneously arose from the ranks.

Once Shinji had managed to wash the remaining LCL out of his hair and changed out of his plug suit, he went to find Misato. He was particularly glad that he now publicly had enough money to invest in some of the finer things in life, and in what little spare time he had he bought a whole new wardrobe. Gone were the monochromatic white shirts and black pants, replaced by tastefully cut outfits made from the finest materials available, most often Egyptian linens or cottons, dyed a wide spectrum of colours and finely trimmed and embroidered where appropriate.

Updating his wardrobe, and to a degree Misato’s, had actually caused him to dip into his other reserves, but Misato had been so excited by the fact that Shinji wanted to actually go clothes shopping with her that she had not paid any attention to how much was actually being spent. Soon he would begin making discrete investments, none truly realizing how much money he was actually moving about, distracted by his seemingly flippant and childish spending sprees.

Plus the clothes made him look good.

Finding Misato waiting for him outside the locker rooms, Shinji waves and says with a yawn, “Hello Misato-san. Thanks for the advice in that last simulation.”

Grinning, Misato puts her arm over Shinji in a motherly fashion and says, “Hey, you were the one who wanted to electrocute the Angel, I just figured out how to best do it.”

“I never would have done it without you,” Shinji says, leaning happily into her. In the past week he had come to cherish Misato’s life more. She was nuts, but she was the kind of nuts that Shinji liked. He hadn’t realized how much he missed his mother until this… neither substitute or replacement was the right word. Misato was an alternative mother.

“Yes, well, you never should have done that last simulation at all. Look at you! You’re exhausted and it’s your first day of school tomorrow,” Misato says both sternly and teasingly.

A sudden irrational jolt of pain shot through Shinji’s heart. His rapidly growing feelings for Misato were suddenly juxtaposed with a decade’s worth of pain and loneliness. Oh, how he had longed to hear his own mother say those words!

Shinji was drained mentally and physically and his normally perfect mask crumbled under the internal emotional storm. Before he could help it, his lower lip was trembling and tears were welling up in his eyes, and the harder he fought against the rising tide of suppressed pain, the worse it got.

Misato paused and looked at him, asking worriedly, “Shinji, what’s wrong?”

His nose flooding with moisture diverted from his eyes, Shinji says, “I… I… you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear someone say that.”

“What?” Misato asks, clearly confused about what statement he was crying about.

“‘It’s your first day of school tomorrow’,” Shinji replies before burying his face in her shoulder to hide his tears.

A look comes over Misato’s face, one part embarrassment, one part concern, and one part just plain confusion. Before she can chide him for being a boy and crying he responds with a muffled voice, “I saved humanity from a forty metre tall monster, so I think I deserve to be allowed to cry every now and then.”

The rebuke dying on her lips, Misato can only strengthen her hug about him and guide him away, saying, “It’s alright Shinji-kun, it’s alright.”

Shinji spent the rest of the trip home brooding, looking pensively out the window, annoyed with his lack of control. He was also brooded over the fact that he was brooding. He hated brooding, it was so unproductive.

Damn it! Damn it! How did I let such a simple, stupid thing get to me? I’m better than this! Damn it! How did I… damn it! I’m going in circles! How could I let myself go in…? DAMN IT!

Flopping down on his bed, Shinji found that his exhaustion had been replaced by angry, restless energy. He had to work out the emotions in his system before he could fall asleep. After trying to meditate for a time, he gave up in frustration. Meditation would not purge him of these feelings.

So he pulled out his cello. He had taken up the cello originally to blend in, but the capacity to make music gave him a valve to vent all the emotions and frustrations that would have been impossible to allow form in any more easily translated medium. Rage, loss, and the desire to commit atrocities against others were much harder to pin down when you expressed them across the strings of a cello.

Shinji had a taste towards the stranger uses of the cello, especially the way it had been developing into popular Western music in the years before Second Impact caused global culture to come grinding to a halt in the name of survival. Frenetic, angry notes flew in ordered discord from Shinji’s bow as he poured all his hate into his instrument.

Eventually he was finally as emotionally drained as he was physically and mentally, the works of vanished Finns having sated his desire for destruction: destruction of others, destruction of the self. He had no idea where he would be without his sensei, but he doubted it would be a good place. Self-loathing was such an easy trap to fall into, especially once one began to hate that aspect of the self. Disgust and abhorrence would breed and in-breed, becoming a mass of pathetic tumours about the heart and mind.

Shinji fell asleep happy that he was still in control.

Waking bright and early in the morning, Shinji went about making breakfast for all three members of the household. He tended towards being quick and with little ambition when making breakfast, saving the experimenting for dinner when he couldn’t accidentally ruin his day by doing something wrong. Or screw up so badly that Misato decided to take over the cooking.

By the time Shinji had eaten, cleaned up, and had everything ready for school, Misato was just rising and opening her first can of beer of the day. Shaking his head, he says, “Are you sure I have to go to school? Isn’t learning how to save the world somewhat more pressing?”

Waving her hand dismissively, Misato says, “We have no idea when the next Angel will show up. It could be tomorrow or another fifteen years from now. And this is Japan; you don’t get to miss school just because you pilot an Eva. Besides, you already have the basics and it’s going to take a while before we figure out a good training regimen for you.”

Shaking his head again, Shinji just says, “Fine.”

Waggling a finger teasingly, Misato says, “Don’t give me guff like that Shin-chan. You’re going to go out there, have fun, make friends, and meet a bunch of cute girls. Got that mister?”

Rolling his eyes, Shinji says jokingly, “Yes mother,” before even thinking about the consequences of that. Realizing his mistake at the last instant, he bolts out the door before additional commentary could be made.

Damn it! Damn it! DAMN IT! You’ve got to get your cool back dumb-ass! You’re forming an emotional connection with her! Stop it, now!

But he knew that it was too late. A bond had formed, one he had not been expecting, one he would not have invited. Sensei had cared for him, but had always been distant, physically and emotionally. Misato was so accessible and they were together so often at home and at work that the bond had snuck up on him. He would have to tread more carefully from now on, lest he grow more attached to her or others.

Attachments made it hard to sell people out, something Shinji was still quite willing to do.

Annoyed that he was starting to fall into more brooding, Shinji cheered himself up by plotting out impractical plans to off his father. By the time he got to his new school, he was grinning from ear to ear at how he had managed to perfect the plan involving a car battery, a geisha, a metric tonne of boiling ramen, and a rubber chicken. A true classic he had been working on for years.

But where would I get that much tapioca?

Shinji’s pace slowed as he entered the building and he began to feel an itching, scrabbling sensation from all around him. Cocking his head to the side, he tried to discerning the source, until eventually he arrived at his assigned classroom, a confused look on his face. What was going on?

And then he opened the door and he realized what was happening.

He was surrounded by psykers! They were all weaker than he had been when his sensei had found him, and just as suppressed, but they were all about him, the whole school filled with dozens of untrained psykers, their surface thoughts broadcast strongly enough that Shinji could pick up on them. He had to retract his senses to avoid going insane from the random, inane chatter, but without his warp senses active it was like intentionally blinding or deafening himself.

As he was standing there shutting out the background thoughts of so many twittering idiots somehow given powers they did not know of or even understand, a serious looking girl with pig tails came up to him and said in a business-like tone, “You’re the new transfer student, right?”

“Ah, yes. My name is Ikari Shinji, I presume you are the class representative if you were expecting me,” Shinji says smartly.

“Yes, I am Hikari Horaki. Good to see you here, so many people have been transferring out since that giant monster attacked,” Hikari says with a smile.

Shinji smiled back, having already subtly appraised her. Clever and business-like, this girl would probably be only moderately difficult to manipulate to his will. The trick would be in making her think she was doing the “right” and “proper” thing.

“I had to move here because of my father’s job,” Shinji says in explanation.

“Ah. Well, when sensei arrives he’ll assign you a seat, but for now any of the ones along this row will be empty,” Hikari says, indicating a section of seats.

Bowing respectfully, Shinji takes a seat and looks about the other students. Not many at the moment. He quickly catalogued Aida Kensuke as an overly intelligent idiot who would be so pathetically easy to manipulate it was mildly amusing, especially with his rapidly evident fascination with all things military. He would make a good pawn at some point.

And then Rei showed up, still heavily bandaged but now wearing a school uniform rather than a plug suit or a hospital gown. His eye caught hers for a moment before she turned away, no emotion on her face but a twinge of fear clearly radiating off her. This quickly made the other students rather uncomfortable.

Interesting. None of them are even aware of why she scares them. This should prove… amusing.

Shinji enjoyed the first half day at school, in that while he remained a quiet introvert, there was no need to maintain the meek part of his mask as that was really not a face he felt he needed to project anymore. Aside from being a transfer student when everyone else was fleeing, he was a damn fine snappy dresser with an air of confidence. He didn’t speak up much because he didn’t need to.

And then lunch time came and the first thing Shinji did was approach Rei and say, “If you would care to join me for lunch, I will be on the roof Ayanami-san.”

That surely sent the rumour mills into overdrive, but Shinji cared not for the buzzing of insects. He left with a sly smile on his face.

Rei did not join him for lunch on the roof that day. Or the next day. Or the day after that. He ate along on the roof, a smug smile on his face, for a full week, before Rei finally approached him.

Setting his bento box aside, Shinji clapped his hands and smiled, saying, “Thank you for joining me Ayanami-san.”

She blinked her unbound eye once at him before saying flatly, “You have asked me to come here every day since your arrival. Why?”

Lounging back, Shinji says, “It was merely a suggestion Ayanami-san. We share the same profession, no? We shall be working together, no? I merely felt that it would be good policy to come to friendly terms with one another.”

“That is unnecessary Ikari-kun. That we do our duty is sufficient,” Rei replies flatly.

His eyes still half-hooded and his mouth still smiling, Shinji says in a direct and serious tone of voice, “Why do I terrify you so Rei?”

The sudden change in tone and manner causes Rei to stiffen up as much as the direct question, but she says, “You do not terrify me Ikari-kun.”

“No? Then let us try some less emphatic adjectives. Scare? Spook? Frighten? Worry? Make to feel anxious? Go ahead, tell me which ones fit, Ayanami-san,” Shinji replies coolly.

They stare at one another for a long time before finally Rei blinks, turns, and walks away.

Still smiling, Shinji picks up his bento again and calls out to her, “I’ll be here tomorrow, ready to answer your questions.”

Rei did not show up the next day, but she did the day after, sitting down next to Shinji. There was silence for a long time before finally Rei says, “Ikari-kun, you are not like other children.”

“No, but I am like the other Children,” Shinji says, using the English word used by NERV to designate the pilots.

“You…” Rei begins.

Raising a hand for silence, Shinji says, “I merely received training from one who knew how to… better utilize our gifts. It is something you could learn too, although I fear that I am now the only one who could teach you such things. Well… perhaps you could learn them. You are… incomplete. Such things are impossible for you right now.”

Rei absorbs this information before saying, “I am… made anxious by you Ikari-kun. You are… different.”

“I embrace different Ayanami-san. Get used to it. When you are ready, ask me why I think you are incomplete,” Shinji says coolly, detecting that Rei was already reaching her tolerance of his mere presence. The Chaos in his soul was surely disturbing to her obedient, broken spirit. And yet she was still drawn to him.

Ayanami left and did not return to the roof for several days.

Before she returned, some interesting events happened.

The first was the arrival of a face new to Shinji, although not new to the rest of the class. A boy named Toji; he wore a track suit in defiance of the school uniform policies, although they seemed rather lax in enforcement anyway. While clearly aiming for the dumb jock look, Shinji found a perceptive mind hiding behind the muscle. Still relatively stupid, but not as stupid as he looked, which Shinji supposed was fairly easy to do.

“Where’ve you been Toji-kun? You haven’t been to school since the giant robot incident, and when I went to your house it was rubble,” Kensuke asks his friend.

Oh ho!

Smacking his fist into his palm angrily, Toji says in a murderous fury, “That stupid robot crushed our home and my little sis got caught in the rubble. She’s been in the hospital since then, and with dad and gramps working overtime for NERV, I was the only one who could be there for her. If I ever find out who the pilot of that thing was, I’ll pound him flat.”

Oh, this will be fun!

Once class had started and no one was listening to the teacher drone on and on about Second Impact, Shinji found a message for him on his computer, asking if he was the pilot of the giant robot. The rumour mill had been stewing since his arrival two weeks ago, but with Toji now intent on discovering the identity of the pilot, someone had finally worked up the courage to ask the quiet young man directly.

Shinji replied with a message that read, “What do you think?”

The chat room instantly exploded into activity as everyone in the class interpreted that as either a confirmation or denial and reasoning for why they thought so. Watching the deluge of messages, Shinji finally added in, “That was a rhetorical question. It required no answer.”

“Are you the pilot then?”

“Yes.”

The whole room exploded into activity as everyone mobbed about Shinji’s desk, asking questions about the robot that he deflected with quiet remarks of, “That’s classified.” Hikari tried to regain control, to which Shinji could just say to her, “The Chaos has been unleashed, best let it die down on its own.”

Soon after that the bell rang for lunch, at which point Hikari managed to shoo the crowd away from Shinji, who calmly walked out of the room and down to the courtyard, barely even paying attention to the furious boy following behind him or the nerd trailing in his wake.

Once outside, Shinji turned to face Toji, who was cracking his knuckles. “Sorry new kid, but for my sister I’ve got to pound you.”

Shinji caught the fist approaching his face in the palm of his hand, his natural strength enough to halt its momentum and hold it fast. Toji was bigger than him, but he had not trained most his life under the expectation of having to go hand to hand with a superhuman in power armour, and his sport of choice was basketball, not a sport known for practicing punching.

Shinji caught the other fist aimed for his face, and pulled Toji’s arms apart while Kensuke could just stand in the background and stare in mute awe at the display of strength Shinji was displaying. Tears began to form in Toji’s eyes from rage and pain as the bones of his hands creaked from the strain.

Finally, in desperation, he tried to kick Shinji, but just as his leg was leaving the ground Shinji shoved down violently, causing Toji’s other leg to buckle and forcing him to the ground on his knees, his fists still held in Shinji’s iron grip.

Yes! Bow before your lord, your superior!

He did not let these feelings escape to his face however, but merely stared impassively down at Toji and asked, “Are you calm, or will you try to hit me if I let go?”

Toji didn’t answer, his head hung in shame.

Shinji released Toji’s arms, livid bruises forming on the backs of Toji’s hands already from where Shinji had placed his fingers. His arms flopped uselessly to his side, and then Shinji squatted down low to be level with Toji’s face.

“I know you must hate me for what happened to your sister, but let me tell you something: that was my first time in that war machine and I didn’t even learn how to make it walk properly until two days later. And it is… shall we say temperamental? I short, the commander of NERV wanted it to go berserk. He’s the one you should be mad at, not me. Do you want me to tell you his name?” Shinji whispers slyly and hatefully.

Silence.

“The director of NERV is Ikari Gendo. Yes, Ikari. So if you want to pound him, get in line, because the bastard is my own father and I hate him for what he has done to me,” Shinji says before rising.

The phone in his pocket then rang and he pulled it out to discover that he was needed at NERV immediately. The rising of sirens told him all he needed to know about why he was needed.

Shinji left Kensuke to gather up his fallen friend. Toji would soon come to worship Shinji for the same reasons all men worshipped terrible, cruel deities: fear. Shinji could squash the boy and everything he loved like bugs, but he would not, for was he not a merciful deity? If he crippled his sister, did he not also, in his compassion, spare her life?

Rei was soon at Shinji’s side, their destination the same.

“A new Angel has been spotted,” Rei says flatly.

“Indeed. Time to see if practice will pay off,” Shinji says dryly.


“Hmmm… looks like Shinji was right to be worried, this Angel is nothing at all like the last one,” Ritsuko comments as visual data is fed to them. Long and low like a centipede, it floated above the Earth serenely despite the fact that it was cruising at near the speed of sound. Two stubby arms projected from its side near its spade shaped head, and its red core seemed to serve as a giant, cyclopean eye for the Fifth Angel.

“Looks like it’s a lucky thing we started adding flight capacity to the combat simulations,” Misato notes before asking, “What is Unit 01’s status?”

“Shinji has been loaded into the entry plug and is has stabilized at a sync ratio of 55%, as usual,” Maya reports. “All systems are nominal.”

Nodding, Misato looks up at Vice Commander Fuyutsuki, who merely nods before she says, “Eva launch!”

In the entry plug Shinji was expanding his awareness, pushing his psychic sight into the shifting currents of time, looking for snippets of moments yet to come to give him any advantage he could in the coming battle. Even knowing a second ahead of time what was going to happen could be precious in such a conflict.

Emerging from a hollowed out building, Shinji armed his assault rifle and moved to take a look at the enemy, keeping his AT-field tight against his Eva. A split second precognitive warning was all he had to move his head out of the way as a glowing pink tendril sliced through the building he was using for cover and nearly cut straight through his AT-field, only the angle preventing full penetration.

Rolling out of the way of the follow up strike, Shinji unfolded his field to neutralize the Angel’s, continuously moving to avoid the whip-cracking strikes, although he did take several glancing blows that melted away strips of his armour. Finally, after what felt like eternity but was probably only three seconds, the phase spaces neutralized and Shinji let loose with his weapon right at the bright red core.

The Angel took all of three hits on its core before it dropped its “head”, at which point the 105mm depleted uranium rounds began bouncing harmlessly off the creature’s unnaturally strong flesh. A precision tendril lash neatly dissected the rifle in Shinji’s hands, cutting it along atomic force planes.

“I’m going to need a bigger gun,” Shinji understates in agitation.

“Send him a rocket launcher immediately,” Misato commands the bridge crew, her orders rapidly being relayed. Then to Shinji, “The building marked on your map will have a rocket launcher for you in 30 seconds.”

“Affirmative,” Shinji notes while hopping and rolling about downtown Tokyo-3 in order to avoid being bisected by one of those energy tendrils, the various buildings taking a tremendous beating while Shinji concentrated on staying alive.

A light flashed on Shinji’s pop-up map display to show that the rocket launcher had arrived at the designated building. Getting it under these circumstances would be a bit difficult thought.

And then Shinji had an idea.

Dodging behind a particularly large and dense building, Shinji watched as the Angel sliced off the top ten floors before he built his AT-field into a wall, which he then shoved forward several metres in less than a second.

The Angel tried desperately to counter the attack, but its slicing did nothing to counter the overall momentum of the incoming object, and was subsequently bowled over by tens of thousands of tons of metal, glass, and concrete.

Floating back up off the ground and shaking off the offending debris, the Angel had just enough time to spot Unit 01, rocket launcher in hands, kick off from another building and approach from above, landing feet first on the Angel’s projected AT-field, driving it back into the ground.

Shinji opened up a hole in that field and shoved the entire rocket launcher through it before remotely triggering the launch command. The both missiles were already armed, and thus when the first one rushed down the tube and met Angel flesh, the back blast triggered the remaining missile and set off the hundreds unexploded munitions the Angel was lying in from the destroyed combat buildings.

Both Angel and Eva disappeared in the explosion.

“Unit 01’s cable has been severed,” Maya reported as the five-minute countdown timer kicked in automatically.

“Where is Unit 01?” Misato cried out as the image cleared at a badly mauled Angel could be seen rising from the rubble, its right side melted nearly beyond recognition by the blast and its belly oozing blue-purple blood from numerous wounds.

Only one camera caught what happened next, and it was in the awed hands of one Aida Kensuke.

“Holy shit!” He whispered, dredging up the only profanity that seemed appropriate for the occasion.

Shinji had used the AT-field and the explosions to jump nearly a kilometre into the air and had performed a tuck and roll to gain control over his tumble before drawing his progressive knife. Now falling spread eagle, he was directly above the confused and disoriented Angel and plummeting at a fantastic speed.

Only a disciple of Tzeentch would be hopeful enough to think this would work and skilled enough to try it.

Shinji hit the Angel like the hammer of a god, it’s only warning the sudden neutralization of its weakened AT-field before Unit 01 slammed into it like a hunting falcon at the bottom of its stoop. The prog knife slashed straight through its head and slammed into its core, the knife going in to the hilt before momentum ripped it out of Shinji’s hand. His other hand grabbed hold of some of the creature’s flesh, which quickly tore under the uneven transfer of inertia.

Shinji smacked hard into the ground and dug a crater all the way to the first armour plate, but he held onto the Angel enough to bleed some of his energy to it, the off centre impact and its lack of ground contact causing it to be flipped across the city and collide with another munitions building.

Inside his entry plug, Shinji hurt all over, some of his pain from the Eva, some from his own body not appreciating the sudden acceleration. Fortunately the LCL matched human tissue quite well, so Shinji was insulated from shock to a large degree. The bound daemon wailed in fury and pain, but did not go berserk seeing as it was now terrified of Shinji.

That… was stupid.

On the command bridge, everyone, including the normally unflappable Vice Commander, was staring at the screen in open mouthed shock and amazement. Finally Misato snapped out of it and demanded, “Status of the pilot?”

After a moment of looking dumbly at their instruments, everyone started scrambling about and reports started flooding back. “Shinji appears mostly fine… Eva has a broken right arm and several ribs have caved in. Armour integrity is at 30%.”

Sighing, Misato fingered her necklace and said, “At least that’s over…”

“Blue pattern still detected!” Someone shouted out.

Shinji heard that in his cockpit and could only groan, “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

Floating out of the burning wreckage of where it had landed, the Fourth Angel floated lopsidedly over to Unit 01 and used its remaining tendril to grab hold of one of the legs by the ankle and physically pick the war machine up, spinning it a few times before releasing it like an Olympic hammer thrower. Shinji landed several kilometres away in the hills, gouging a deep impact trench in the soft earth before lying still.

Reaching up with a tendril to the inert prog knife, the Angel pulled it out as best it could. The energy whip quickly burned through the handle and thus left a good chunk of the blade still imbedded in its core. It then proceeded to begin regeneration of its battered frame, starting with the burned off arm, such that in a few seconds it had both tendrils active again.

Before it could begin rejoining its “head”, one of the special autocannon cars flew through the air to smash into it in an impressive fireball that sent shrapnel everywhere, gouging new holes in its body.

Now it was the Angel’s turn to go, “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

Limping down out of the hills like a prize fighter coming back from a corner after the ref had nearly counted to ten, Unit 01 moved to finish the fight. One of its arms hung uselessly at its side, and its armour was cracked and coming off in places to reveal browned flesh that was bleeding, but it was still moving, still pissed.

The Angel started to back off, terrified for the first time in its mostly mindless existence.

Unit 01 bellowed and dropped its head in a charge.

The Angel squealed, making a gurgling, aquatic sound in terror as it retreated, trying to skewer Unit 01 with its tendrils. Unit 01 took the blows to the chest and kept coming despite the energy whips punching straight through its armour and flesh and out the other side. The Eva rammed its head into the centre of the Angel, its horn gouging out the Angel’s guts before snapping off, while the burnt hands tried to dig into the core along the crack created by the prog knife.

The Angel attempted one last trick, setting up an electric current between its tendrils. Unit 01 screamed in agony as tens of thousands of volts and hundreds of amps surged through it, but the circuit only lasted for a moment before the strain overloaded the Angel’s core. Lightning burst from it along the crack before everything went silent, its tendrils losing their glow.

Unit 01’s internal power clock hit 00:00 a second later.

Over the radio, Shinji said, “That… really hurt.”


Shinji came to class the next day with an arm in a splint, ironically because as he was being hauled out of his entry plug he had slipped on a puddle of LCL and sprained his wrist, which aside from some massive bruising was the worst of his injuries. Everyone was silently respectful of him, although none more so than Kensuke and Toji, who had actually seen him fighting.

At lunch Toji approached and bowed low, saying, “I apologize for my behaviour yesterday, it was unacceptable.”

One of his eyes closed from a swollen bruise about his face, Shinji smiles and says, “You just wanted to defend your family, there is nothing wrong with that. Just make sure you know who the right target is next time.”

“Of course,” Toji says smartly.

After a few moments of silence, Shinji asks, “So did you get any good footage?”

“Wha…?” Toji asks.

“I saw you two in the hills yesterday, which was why I decided to get up and attack before that thing could recover and come to me. I didn’t want to squish either of you,” Shinji explains with a darkly humorous expression, leaving out the part about him being almost out of energy at the time.

“It was awesome! Especially that jump you did. I mean, how cool was that? You’ve got to let me try that some time,” Kensuke says before both boys go silent at the cold shivers they suddenly felt down their spines.

“Ayanami-san, come to eat with us today?” Shinji asks cheerfully.

“Yes,” she says.

“Uh… we’ll leave you two alone,” Toji says; the two of them still crept out by Rei’s presence.

“Suit yourselves,” Shinji says with a shrug as the two of them leave.

Sitting down next to him, Rei waits for several seconds before saying softly, “I wish to know why you think I am incomplete.”

A smile washes over Shinji’s face as he clears his throat and says, “Let me tell you a story about two gods, one named Tzeentch, and one named Nurgle…”

---

I feel that I am fairly justified with this combat sequence in the fine tradition of making everything involved with WH40k ridiculously over the top.

AN EVA. ROCKET JUMPING.

That's so ridiculously over the top that it comes back around to becoming completely AWESOME again!

Once again you manage to surpass yourself, like any true disciple of Tzeentch. I think you made the right decision on this one--when it comes to 40k, there is no such thing as "over the top." Now if only we could get a power sword or force staff made for Unit 01...

Oh, I did indeed find the mental image of Unit 01 painted in blue and gold and clad in Egyptian iconography priceless. Shinji must be aware that these are the colors and iconography of his would-be adoptive Legion... after all, there are no coincidences.

Considering that he's seen Thousand Son's armour, he is definitely doing it intentionally. And yeah, I made this fight significantly harder than canon because:

a) Shinji is a hell of a lot smarter here
b) I needed an excuse for an armour redesign because I find the image of an Eva garbed like a Thousand Sons CSM amusing

I'm not sure where the idea of Shinji rocket jumping with an Eva came from, but it was too kick ass not to include.

I found the new chapter entertaining. Good job.

Academia Nut wrote:b) I needed an excuse for an armour redesign because I find the image of an Eva garbed like a Thousand Sons CSM amusing

Will the other Evas receive redesigned armor, e.g., will Unit 02 end up looking like a Khorne berserker?

And what about the dummy plugs? Will Thousand Shinji's psyker powers allow him to override the dummy plugs, or will he be as useless as the canon Shinji?

I have yet to decide on the dummy plugs, but you bet your ass Unit 02 will get a redesign. I can't imagine Asuka letting the others get away with what I have in store, it would make her Eva look plain in comparison, and she wouldn't tolerate that for long. I'm thinking of Shinji saying something along the lines of:

"Red... it suits you... but it still needs something... more bronze, yes. The Evas are testaments to mankind's will and defiance of the Angels, and as the most experienced fighter, you should look the part, striding the world like an ancient Titan of myth, a demigod warrior of old like Persus or Hercules, gleaming like burnished gold in sun, terrible and beautiful for all to behold."

I have a sudden vision of Asuka deploying against the MP-EVAs as in canon, once more being torn to pieces. . . and then resurrected as a daemon of Khorne because that fight was awesome. Now for round two. . .

Hmmm... may need to use that idea. Of course, the fight will probably be even more awesome if an Eva sized chain-axe with progressive teeth were included...

That makes me curious: how do devotees of Khorne and devotees of Tzeentch get along, i.e., will Shinji and Asuka end up trying to kill each other? And is Rei also going to end up a devotee of Tzeentch, or do you intend to have her pledge her soul to Slaanesh? (I get the feeling you don't think much of Nurgle.)

You'll see... oh, probably tonight or tomorrow, I think this will be a bit of a shorter chapter. I think I'll save the actual battle with Ramiel for a seperate chunk.

Plus the laughter of thirsting authors makes it hard to concentrate at times. If you'll excuse me, I need to go get a drink.

You freaked me out there Dominus by deleting your last post, I was all like, "What? I didn't post in Fanfics recently!"

Anyway, enjoy.

---

Gendo had returned to a situation… somewhat outside his scenario. He had expected his son to be forced into a situation where the only options would further serve to break his psyche, make him easier to control in the future. Instead he had arrived to find a growing pro-Shinji camp in the NERV staff, especially amongst the technicians who worked directly with him and Unit 01.

“What is your post-battle analysis Captain Katsuragi?” Gendo asks coolly.

“After running simulations both with and without Shinji-san on the MAGI supercomputers, we have come to the conclusion that he performed at 92% efficiency of the optimal scenario, given what we knew. Part of the problem is that we badly under-estimated the Angels’ ability to learn and adapt. In essence, because of Shinji’s initial actions the Angel Shamshel marked him as an immediate threat and attacked as strongly as possible from the beginning, limiting Shinji’s options. Damage to Tokyo-3 and Unit 01 is thus considered to have been less than most probably outcomes, excluding losing scenarios,” Misato reports.

Gendo took a moment to digest this report. This was not what he wanted to hear.

“Recommendations?” He asks.

Misato pulls out a thick folder and replies, “We have several, a few of which have already been implemented. We have updated the pilot training programs for both the Second and Third Child to include much more difficult scenarios than previously generated under the assumption that the Angels will adapt at a rate 25% greater than we have previously seen and that each subsequent Angel will have learned from the mistakes and failures of the previous ones. The biggest issue though is that we need more effective weapons and armour for the Evas.”

“And where would we get the money for this?” Gendo replies coldly.

Raising an eyebrow, Misato smiles and says, “Corporate sponsorship.”

Gendo was not expecting that response.

“Nike is willing to pay us fifty million USD for permission to use this in their next advertising campaign,” Misato says, passing Gendo a picture from her folder. The picture is a black and white silhouette of Unit 01 in mid-air above Shamshel, with the English words “Just Do It” in red letters beneath the image. “They are also willing to pay a considerable amount towards the repair of the Eva’s armour if allowed to put their swoosh on the soles of Unit 01’s feet. Several other large corporations are clamouring to be allowed to donate to the Eva program money, resources, and expertise and desire to make statements of solidarity.”

“‘Statements of solidarity’?” Gendo asks incredulously.

“For once they all seem to be looking at the long term, big picture, in that if humanity is destroyed by the Angels then there won’t be anyone to make a profit off of. Short term, being associated with the people trying to save the planet from alien invaders will do wonders for their public relations,” Misato explains.

Gendo considers this, and then deciding that since he plans on initiating Third Impact within a year he might as well take advantage of the potential resources. The Old Men would probably have their fingers in things anyway, but a line of resources that they didn’t directly control would be useful.

“Very well, begin sorting through proposals from the corporations. And have we figured out how that video of the fight leaked to the Internet?” Gendo asks.

Ritsuko shrugs and says, “The film was edited so that the original makers are still unknown, and the initial release was done from a public terminal here in Tokyo-3 as a global e-mail spamming. The initial terminal was destroyed by a dormant virus that erased and then overwrote the hard drive shortly after the release, which was probably done with a time delay. What little we found was all amateur script kiddie stuff, which means that there are no fingerprints in the coding to trace as it is was publicly available. The MAGI might be able to crack it if we devote considerably more processing time and power to the problem, but there is not a lot of evidence to go by.”

Frowning, Gendo says, “Unless there is a repeat of this sort of leak, forget about it then. Have public relations clean up the rest. Let us return to the discussion on combat capacities of Unit 01 then Captain Katsuragi.”

Nodding, Misato says, “We already have several plans for updating the weapons and armour for Unit 01. Of particular interest is to use the AT-field amplifiers we have to produce an effective close combat weapon that will not rely on neutralizing an Angel’s AT-field first.”

Passing over a set of documents detailing the initial proposal, featuring an Eva sized staff that would warp the AT-field produced by an Eva and wrap it around its length while altering the field’s harmonics. It would theoretically be impossible for any single opposing AT-field to nullify the field around the staff and around the Eva simultaneously.

“Is this proposal possible Dr. Akagi?” Gendo asks.

Shrugging, Ritsuko says, “I’ve reviewed it and it is theoretically possible, and we already have most of the individual components realized. We would have to build one and field test it to know for sure though.”

Nodding, Gendo passes the document back and says, “Very well, begin full engineering and design. What other proposals do we have?”

“We have already moved up the time table for completion on our positron rifle, but it is rather large and bulky so considering the speed of the last Angel, it may not be as effective as we hoped. There is some research being done to miniaturize the weapon somewhat. That said; we are working on a weapon designed to have both armour piercing and explosive properties in order to cause maximum tissue damage. We also have several other proposals, although they are all less practical or achievable than what I have already detailed,” Misato explains.

“Then go with the most achievable options,” Gendo says before declaring, “This meeting is adjourned, the Vice Commander and I have other business to attend to.”

Once everyone had filed out, Gendo turned to Fuyutsuki and cries out, “What the hell happened?”


Rei was for the first time in her life, confused. Pilot Ikari had been telling her things the past few days, things that scared her with the sense they made. And now Rei found that she had questions. Questions like, “Who am I?”

Pilot Ikari told her that he had learned meditative and focusing techniques that allowed him to expand on the same potential that allowed him to pilot an Eva. The man who had trained him also introduced him to a strange religion featuring four rather strange deities, with Pilot Ikari only worshipping one of the four, if acknowledging the other three.

He worshipped the god of change and evolution, of hope. For him, nothing was impossible; everything was achievable if one was smart and strong enough. He saw the world and saw limitless potential in everything.

Rei did not share that point of view.

Strangely, Pilot Ikari did not mind the fact that she did not share this opinion. In fact, his insistence that she was incomplete was over her lack of strong emotions. The conversation still played out in her mind.

“The gods are beings of emotion, just as humans are. If you wish to touch even a fraction of their power, you must open up to the raw veins of feeling within you,” Pilot Ikari said.

“Why?” Rei had asked, not grasping the reasoning behind his words.

“Why must you open up, or why do it in the first place?” Pilot Ikari asked back.

For a moment Rei considered this before saying, “Why would I do it in the first place?”

Pilot Ikari grinned and said, “Power, what else?”

Rei blinked a few times before asking, “Why would I want power?”

“Why not? Power is freedom. If you have power, you can choose how to do things, when to do things, and all the other little details. If I had more power the other day, I would not have fought the Angel the way I did, and it would have been easier for all involved. I especially would have been at less risk of dying,” Shinji explains.

Frowning now, Rei says, “I am not afraid of death, so why should I seek more power?”

Pilot Ikari twitched an eyebrow at this remark, and Rei immediately hid away all thoughts relating to her “sisters” lest he pluck them from her mind. Still smiling, he said, “Not afraid of death are you? Why is that?”

“I am replaceable,” Rei said.

“Oh? So you’re a piece of trash then, a mass produced consumer item to be used and discarded when no longer needed?” Shinji asked mockingly.

Rei frowned deeply at him.

He smirked and said, “What? Those are the only things that are even remotely replaceable: cheap copies made on a large scale. You use one up, discard it, and there’s another one waiting, like facial tissues out of a box. Are you a facial tissue, to catch someone else’s tears and snot and other less pleasant things and then be tossed aside?”

Rei did not answer that question.

“So you do consider yourself replaceable,” Shinji says, the smile not leaving his face. “Does that make you angry?”

“No.”

“Do you want to change the situation?”

“I have no need to.”

“Does it make you happy then?”

There was a long pause.

Pilot Ikari broke the silence by saying, “Curious reaction to a curious question, no? If you are replaceable as a person, then your death is inevitable, no? But neither is death the end to your work. So why not be happy? Inevitability is the antithesis of hope, for hope is defiance of the seemingly inevitable. When you have no hope, you have no fear. When you have nothing to be afraid of, why not enjoy your life. Live and love and be joyful while you can, for death will come for us all.”

There was a meaningful pause before Pilot Ikari said, “I don’t believe in the inevitable, but then again, I’m not you. Believe what you want, just believe.”

Pilot Ikari’s words had badly shaken her. She had lived without emotions, without attachments for so long under the assumption that they didn’t matter, and now he told her that if nothing mattered then why worry?

She picked up the broken glasses she had acquired when Commander Ikari saved her, trying to find meaning in the only item of sentimental value she kept with her. They were shattered… useless… the Commander had discarded them and acquired a new pair… just as he would discard her and obtain a new Rei if the time came.

If the glasses could feel anything at all, surely they would feel despair. They had served well and faithfully, and then, through no fault of their own, they had been damaged and cast off. But they could not feel. They were inanimate objects. If Rei did not feel, did that make her inanimate?

But she did feel. She felt affection and loyalty for Commander Ikari. She felt drawn to Pilot Ikari and simultaneously scared of him. But why should she be scared? She had known her whole life that there were other clones capable of taking her place should she die. She had already perished once. Death was not an end for her, so why should she fear it?

Why should she fear anything?

Because even if she could not die, others could die or get hurt. And if NERV failed against the Angels, then there would be no more clone bodies to take her place. The mission to defeat the Angels was thus the most important thing to her. That was the only thing that was not inevitable, that was the only thing to fear. Everything else could be endured.

A sudden epiphany struck Rei. She could endure any level of physical pain, so why not emotional pain? If she could endure, then she had nothing to fear. If she had nothing to fear, then why limit her contact with others?

So this was what Pilot Ikari, what Shinji had meant that power was freedom. Power and strength was freedom from the chains of the self and from the chains of others. She also now understood when he said that she was incomplete. If she felt nothing, then she was no better than the broken glasses in her hands. And how could an inanimate object do anything?

Rei fell asleep smiling for the first time.


Shinji was humming to himself happily while reading the newspaper. The announcement of Nike’s newest advertising campaign had led to a sudden jump in their stocks as investors worldwide noted the marketing coup of getting the image of Unit 01 performing a “Shinji Suicide Special”. Overall, it was a good day to have already invested in Nike stock.

Or Mitsubishi Heavy Industries, who had been allowed to announce that they were the primary supplier of heavy machinery to Tokyo-3 and had even been involved in some of the armour production for the Evas.

Or any one of a dozen companies that had proclaimed their association with NERV and the Evangelion program.

Shinji’s net worth had tripled in the past four days, and he was already covertly moving to expand that wealth further still. Money attracted more money, and within another two to three months his income from his investments would start exceeding his income from his NERV salary, to say nothing of his net worth. Within a year he could easily become one of the richest individuals in Japan.

And no one would know just how much money he had. Off shore accounts were a wonderful thing.

The doorbell rang and Shinji said, “I’ll get it Misato-san.”

As he had expected, Toji and Kensuke were waiting for him at the door, and they immediately said, “Good morning Shinji-san”

Misato smoothly reached her arm about the doorway to the room she was in and said silkily, “Good morning boys.”

“Good morning Misato-san!” Both said enthusiastically and in a sing-song voice.

Rolling his eyes at their predictable response, Shinji throws on his coat and picks up his book bag and says, “Come on you two, if you stand here too long not only will we be late, but you’ll die of dehydration from all the drool.”

Practically dragging the two horny teenagers away, Shinji then quietly waits for the daily, “Ah man Shinji, you’re so lucky, getting to live with such a major babe like Misato.”

“Hardly worth it when there’s no way in hell I would ever get anywhere and I have to clean up after her all the time. Woman is an absolute slob,” Shinji replies in annoyance.

“But still man…” Toji begins before trailing off into a hormone fuelled day dream.

Shaking his head, Shinji says, “Trust me, reality is never as good as dreams.”

Unless you force reality to be like dream, but that’s a little different.

“Oh come on, you’re just trying to discourage us so you can Misato all to yourself,” Toji complains.

“Just as I’m sure you’re trying to get us all after Misato so that you can grab the girl who is actually making googly eyes towards you without anyone noticing,” Shinji replies.

Had there been a soundtrack to his life, there suddenly would have been the sound of a needle scratching to a stop across a record.

“WHAT?” Toji cried out.

Grinning slyly, Shinji says, “You heard me. I see and hear things you guys don’t because instead of staring only at girls chests and mouthing off, I’m actually paying attention. Thus it’s not that hard to tell who likes you Toji-kun.”

The psychic powers don’t hurt either.

“So who is it?” Toji demands.

“Well…” Shinji says, dragging out the last syllable before saying, “No. I could tell you, but where’s the fun in that? Tell you what, if you don’t figure it out by the end of the day today I’ll tell you… but you’ll owe me.”

“Like you need more money Mr. Only Egyptian Cotton Will Do,” Toji says.

Rolling his eyes, Shinji says, “I can’t help it if unlike some people I have refined tastes. And obviously I wouldn’t be asking for money. It would be a favour.”

“Oh. Well I suppose. I bet you I’ll figure it out real quick,” Toji says arrogantly.

Deciding to come back into the conversation at this point, Kensuke says, “Oh? You mean now that you know that there’s a girl with a crush on you, you can figure it out?”

“Shut up Kensuke,” Toji grumbles while taking a half-hearted swing at his friend, who easily moves aside.

Shinji was about to comment when he felt a strange mind approaching. It was… was… bubbly. Shinji was suddenly rather worried.

“Shiiiiiiiinji-kun,” a strange female voice called out, causing the trio to turn around and find a very strange, very terrifying image.

“Toji… are my glasses busted or is Rei running towards us? And smiling?” Kensuke asks rather worriedly.

“She is,” Toji answers fearfully.

“I’m… I’m scared. Hold me Toji,” Kensuke asks.

“Only if you hold me back,” Toji demands and the two of them grip the other in abject terror.

Her bandages now mostly off, Rei approaches the three with a huge grin on her face, but it looked like she didn’t know how to smile properly, and instead it came off as some sort of psychotic killer grin.

“Good morning Shinji-kun, I thought about what you said, and you were right, I can endure. I am much happier now,” she says, before bowing and continuing on her way.

Toji and Kensuke watched her go until she turned a corner, at which point they realized how closely they were hanging on to one-another, at which point they leapt apart and brushed themselves off in as manly a manner as possible given the circumstances.

That was… not quite as planned. Thank Tzeentch for back-ups!

“What the hell was that about?” Toji asks while glancing back and forth to make sure no one saw what had happened.

“I’m… not quite sure. I think something that I said to her may have clicked and now she won’t be as quiet anymore,” Shinji says with a shrug while continuing on.

“I liked quiet Rei! She was creepy, but at least she wasn’t… that!” Toji points out.

“I can’t control how people will react to my words,” Shinji says theatrically to help cover up his believable lie. Controlling people directly was just too obvious and a pain in the ass to maintain for an extended period of time.

“Well then be more careful with them. What the hell did you say to her anyway?” Toji asks.

“Oh, just talking philosophy with a fellow Pilot,” Shinji says.

“Rei pilots an Eva?” Kensuke asks, excited about anything to do with the Evangelion program.

“It’s how she got hurt. You can try talking to her about it if you want,” Shinji says, and Kensuke suddenly got a look on his face that suggested that was probably a bad idea.

The rest of the day was fairly normal, although the sudden change in Rei’s character was well noted. She didn’t say a whole lot more, but she smiled a great deal, and seemed more animate, more interested in others in a sort of bizarre, mute puppy dog way. The effect was extraordinarily creepy for the rest of the class, although Shinji enjoyed it to an extent as it helped soothe out the psychic background noise. When everyone was thinking along the same lines you could sort of tune out that channel of thought.

As they were walking home afterwards, Toji smacked Shinji in the arm and said, “Hey! You lied! There aren’t any girls making googly eyes at me.”

Smirking both at Toji’s denseness and at the way the jock was covertly shaking out his hand after punching Shinji’s wiry muscles, Shinji says, “Oh really? Because I could swear that you noticed that there was a girl looking at you all through class today.”

“What? No. The only one who kept looking at me was… no way! Dude, you do not have your head screwed on right,” Toji cries out in protest.

“You’ll note between the yelling at you to shut up, Class Rep Hikari tends to shoot you little glances that aren’t authoritarian in nature. She likes you Toji,” Shinji says, making a childish face to accent his words.

“But… but… what?” Toji says stumbling over his own words as he suddenly begins reviewing his own interactions with Hikari.

“I think you broke his brain,” Kensuke says helpfully.

“I don’t think it was in very good repair to begin with,” Shinji replies.

“I… uh… I… what am I supposed to do now?” Toji asks desperately.

“Hmm… well, I suppose I could impart to you my somewhat limited sage knowledge on matters such as the heart, but you’re already down a favour with me Toji. Want to go even deeper into debt?” Shinji says.

“Yes! Anything! You’ve got to help me out here man!” Toji cries out.

Shrugging, Shinji says, “Well, first you should ask if you like her back.”

Toji struggles with this suggestion for a while before saying, “I don’t know!”

He did know, consciously too, he just didn’t want to admit it. Shinji would enjoy reading off the list of things Toji found attractive about Hikari.

“Well, let’s see what you think about these things. Don’t you think that those pig tails of hers are cute? Or that look on her face when she gets annoyed with you? Or the way her skirt flips to the side when…” Shinji enumerates before Toji holds up a hand in protest.

“Alright! Alright! I like her, I like her. No need to make me all jealous now,” Toji says, annoyed.

“I am as observant of you as I am of her, and I know how your eyes light up and your ears perk when she does something you like,” Shinji explains.

“I’m not a freaking dog!” Toji protests.

“I don’t know, you whimper pretty well when she starts chewing you out,” Kensuke adds cheekily. He was still cheeky when he dodged the retaliatory punches.

His frustration vented a little, Toji asks, “So now what do I do?”

“Well, if you like her, and she likes you, then isn’t it obvious?” Shinji says.

“I can’t do that!” Toji cries out in horror.

“I was talking about asking her out,” Shinji says with a frustrated sigh.

“So was I!” Toji replies.

Holding up his forehead with his thumb and index finger, Shinji tries not to throw about the term ‘monkey’ too much before he says, “Okay, if you can’t take the direct route, be sneaky. Doesn’t Hikari have a younger sister?”

“Yeah, and?” Toji asks.

“Don’t you have a younger sister?” Shinji asks.

“Yeah, and?” Toji asks.

I will refrain from mind crushing him, even though it would feel so good right now. I will refrain from mind crushing him…

“So, don’t you think a good way of getting closer to Hikari is to see if your sisters know one another? And shouldn’t your sister have as many friends as possible in the hospital?” Shinji suggests.

“Isn’t that rather… deceptive?” Toji asks worriedly.

Shrugging, Shinji says, “Perhaps, but who gets hurt by it? Your sister will feel better, and you and Hikari will be closer. Plus, I hear she’s a really good cook, so I bet you could convince her to help bring a smile to your injured sister by getting her something better to eat than hospital food.”

“I… err… ah… that second one might work better than the first,” Toji says.

“You do what you think is best,” Shinji states before saying, “Well, I have to go. Dr. Akagi is coming over for supper tonight.”

Ah, love was a beautiful thing. Especially when it allowed for extra avenues of manipulation of both Toji and Hikari. And Shinji had managed to extract two favours owed out of Toji. Small favours really, but Shinji knew how to take small things and magnify them into big things quite quickly.

Arriving at the apartment, Shinji was assaulted by the smell of instant curry and chilli powder.

By the gods NO!

“Hey Shin-chan! Rits-chan said she would be coming over a little early so I decided to start cooking despite the fact that it was your night to cook. Nice, huh?” Misato called out from the kitchen.

Shinji went and curled up on the floor next to an equally frightened Pen-Pen. The penguin just let out a pained, “Wark!”

“I know Pen-Pen, I know. I thought the dark times were over too,” Shinji replied.

“Wark.”

“At least capsaicin is an analgesic for birds,” Shinji replies.

“Wark. Wark-wark.”

“True. The allyl isothiocyanate in all that mustard can’t be pleasant for birds either,” Shinji concedes.

Ritsuko, who had walked in on this, wondered if she should flee from this den of insanity now, but unfortunately by that time Misato had arrived and hauled her off into her den of horrors.

A little while later while they were all “enjoying” their meal, Ritsuko sudden snapped her fingers and said, “Oh! I just remembered! I keep forgetting to give Rei her new security card. Could you do that for me before you go in tomorrow Shinji-kun?”

“Of course Ritsuko-san,” Shinji says, accepting the card. “There’s a test of Unit 00 tomorrow, correct?”

“Yes, we believe we have isolated the error that occurred last time, although… uh… well, we also intend for you to be in your Eva this time Shinji. If Unit 00 were to go berserk again, we would prefer for you to be on standby to help restrain it and retrieve Rei… less violently than last time,” Ritsuko explains.

“It would be my pleasure,” Shinji says. Bonus points either way. He also got the idea that this last part had only recently been added on. “How goes the refit plans for Unit 01 by the way?”

“The engineers are mostly done with the redesign of the armour so we should have it manufactured and installed within a month; maybe less if we get extra funding. The weapons are complete though. The AT-staff will be ready for testing with the Evas next week, and APHEGSRB system is ready for combat trials,” Ritsuko explains.

“APHEGSRB?” Shinji inquires?

“Armour Piercing High Explosive Gyroscopically Stabilized Rocket, Boosted. Quite ingenious really. The engineers were having trouble combining an armour piercing profile with the high explosives, or rather combining both with the demands for combat against Angels. Eventually someone came upon the idea of using an old idea for rocket pistols called Gyrojets. The rockets provide a smoother acceleration profile than a standard bullet while achieving armour piercing velocities, and as added bonuses they give better long range accuracy, and better penetration and explosive properties within the range of their fuel. The only problems were low initial exit velocity and feed rate, but they added a small initial propellant block to get around those problems. The ammunition costs a fortune, but they tell me a five round burst would have blown Shamshel in half,” Ritsuko explains, wondering idly why she was so interested in the subject.

“Hopefully the Fifth Angel won’t be expecting that sort of thing,” Shinji says with a smile. He had wanted to make sure that an Eva sized bolter was being produced properly, but the design teams were being tight lipped about it all. “Do they have a simpler name for it?”

“I think the engineers like to call it the boom gun,” Ritsuko says with a somewhat annoyed smirk at the childishness of her colleagues.

Both Shinji and Misato shrugged and said, “It works,” simultaneously before bursting out into a fit of giggles.

The next day Shinji found himself at Rei’s apartment, wondering why it had taken her so long to find the name of her deity. The building was a squalid prefab structure that had mostly been abandoned for the newer structures, despite the fact that Tokyo-3 was only about a decade old. Garbage was scattered everywhere, the elevator had an “Out of Order” sign on it, and the stairwells stank of stale urine.

Shinji could feel Rei’s mind on the other side, calm and… bubbly. It was like her new found outlook was reacting badly with something already inside her. At least she wasn’t quite as bad as yesterday and seemed to have settled down significantly.

Going to knock on the door after trying the bell to find it was not working Shinji noted that it just swung open when he pressed on it, indicating that both the lock and handle were broken.

“Hello Ayanami-san,” Shinji said while walking into the equally squalid apartment, although it was apathy that had made it this way, not the active despoilment present outside.

“Hello Pilot Ikari,” Rei answered from somewhere in the apartment.

“Where are you?” Shinji asked.

“In the bathroom contemplating the utility of taking a shower,” Rei replied. Shinji noted the clothing on her bed and figured she was probably naked.

“Oh?” Shinji asked, waiting in the hall connecting to her room.

“Yes. I will be performing a test with Unit 00 this afternoon and will thus be exposed to LCL. Therefore I will be required to take a shower later. Taking a shower now seems… like an inefficient use of my time,” Rei replies.

“Did you shower yesterday?” Shinji asked.

“No,” she answered.

“The day before that?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I was otherwise occupied.”

“What with?”

“Living,” Rei responded.

“You picked Nurgle, didn’t you?” Shinji said with a sigh.

“That deity seemed most in-line with who I am. Are you displeased with my choice,” Rei said.

“As a follower of Tzeentch, a little, but frankly, Nurgle is better than where you were before. Nurgle is the god of despair and love, of decay and endurance. All the Chaos gods are many things, for Chaos is all things,” Shinji answers.

“I… I feel more connected to thing Pilot Ikari,” Rei states before walking naked into view.

Shinji did not flinch, did not stutter, and did not become embarrassed at the sight of her body, for he had more self-control than that. Rather he just said, “Then you can begin learning. You will have to learn much yourself though, for I know little of Nurgle’s deeper theology, and the methods of the Changer of Ways often stand in opposite to those of the Lord of Decay.”

“What you can teach me will be sufficient. I shall find a way to endure my own lack of knowledge,” Rei replies while getting dressed.

Nodding, Shinji says, “Perfect. The first lesson is that emotions are power. Mine are hope and ambition and fear. Yours would be love and acceptance and despair. Learn them, know them, and master them. Make them your servants, your allies, your friends. Know when to control them, when to follow them, and when to let them run wild. Know what they mean, what they are telling you, and what you should do about them.”

Now fully dressed, Rei sat on her bed and gestured for Shinji to join her. “We have little time before we must report to NERV, but teach me what you can until then.”

Sitting down next to her in this den of decay, Shinji smiles and says, “Very well. First you must find your centre, the part of you that defines you. Do not worry if you do find your centre right away, you will often find false ones. But like a misbalanced top, you will soon know if you are off centre. Embrace these false starts, for they move you closer to the truth.”

“What is your centre Pilot Ikari?” Rei asks.

“Me,” Shinji replies curtly. “For a time I thought it was my father and my hatred for his abandonment of me, but then I realized that I was letting myself be controlled. Now I know that for me, control over myself is the most important thing I have. Control within produces control without, makes me the master of my own destiny.”

In another universe, Rei would have probably slapped Shinji for his candid remarks about his father, but instead she asked, “Do you still hate him?”

“Yes, but it is not a definitive hate. A reckoning will inevitably come between us one day, but he shall be the initiator, not I. I have better things to do with my life,” Shinji replies.

Rei nods and says, “I can accept this. I can endure this.”

“So what do you think defines you right now?” Shinji asks.

“Piloting Unit 00,” Rei replies.

“Very good, run with that, use that. How do you feel about it?” Shinji asks.

“I… I must pilot it. There is no choice for me in this manner,” Rei says flatly.

“Oh? There is always choice, always things that can be done. You could refuse. You could run away. You could throw yourself off this building,” Shinji points out.

Rei shakes her head, “I would be replaced, and my actions would be pointless. Piloting is inevitable. Death is inevitable. These facts must be accepted.”

“Does such responsibility without choice not crush you down?” Shinji asks.

“Yes,” Rei replies.

“How does that make you feel?” Shinji asks.

“It must be accepted. Despair… despair is inevitable. There is no hope to escape this crushing weight, it must simply be accepted and endured. There is no use… no use despairing over despair,” Rei says, a light going off in her head.

“Did you just make a joke Rei?” Shinji asks.

Tilting her head to the side, Rei replies, “Yes. Yes… and now I understand. Despair is inevitable, for all things fall apart, all things come to an end, and nothing can stop that. But love is also inevitable, as is joy. Even the most crushing weight will not prevent that. Even if all else is gone, ground to dust, then memories remain, and in those memories are love and joy. If memories vanish, then the bad go with the good, and then what is there to be sad about? All can be broken and destroyed and ruined… and there will still be nothing to be sad about.”

Laughing, Shinji says, “Now you are coming to understand. Understand the meanings of your emotions, and they are powerful. Love binds us. To be bound is to be restrained, but it is also to be strength, for it reinforces us if we try to move out of line, even if that motion is involuntary breakage. Acceptance means that we have given in, but is that truly such a bad thing all the time? Just because we may not like the rain does not mean we must defy it, and in accepting it, does it really do us more harm than if we rage against it? And despair, that merely lets us know our limits, no?”

Rei looked at Shinji and said, “You do not believe these things?”

Shrugging, Shinji says, “I can believe that you believe them. I fear that which I do not understand, but I have ambitions to learn, and thus I can hope for a better future. I may fear what you are and may become, but I am ambitious enough to teach you, to guide you, and hope that you and I become something greater for it.”

Rei absorbed this knowledge and finally said, “I can accept that.”

Glancing at his watch, Shinji notes, “We must get going now.”

Far, far away, an Angel began to stir, realizing it had its own appointments to keep.

My apologies, Academia. I figured that answering a question that had been addressed to you in your very own fanfic thread was the height of presumption on my part (this isn't a 40k discussion thread, after all), and as it was a bit of a non-sequitor in any case, I did away with it. You already answered (or will, in any case) the gist of Sidwinder's question, anyway.

As for the chapter itself, magnificent work all around. I'm glad that you decided to address the subject of the Angels learning from the experience of their predecessors--this was something that was brought up by Ritsuko several times in the anime but never really seriously explored or addressed, and it's refreshing to see an original take on that idea.

And it is so delightful, somehow, to see Gendo getting his just desserts.

Gyrojets. Oh my, Shinji, you have been clever.

Ugh. Nurgle. You had to pick the most disgusting, loathsome, and otherwise putrescent Chaos god for Rei, didn't you? As a would-be Tzeentchian myself, I cannot help but think that Shinji may be shooting himself in the foot by encouraging this process, given the fact that Nurgle and Tzeentch are literally the antithesis of one another. But who knows? Rei might prove useful, and loyal, for a time. Admittedly, Asuka is probably the greater danger here--Khornate berserkers do have a somewhat contentious relationship with Tzeentchian sorcerers, after all.

I'm surprised to learn that Nurgle is the god of love as well as despair. I thought love was an emotion Slaanesh controlled?

By the way, real-life Gyrojets had HUGE problems with accuracy, apparently due to quality control problems that had the rocket nozzles oriented improperly in the bullets.

Overall, an interesting chapter. I imagine the Armisael is in for a suprise when the Angel tries to become one with Rei.

I checked online, and that was the second batch that had the quality control problems. The fact should be pointed out though that these rockets will be significantly larger than modern tank shells, so the issues with precision machining the rocket holes would be significantly less important because the vents would be much larger and thus have much better tolerances.

Oh, and don't you know that Papa Nurgle loves all his subjects equally? Including the bacteria and viruses. Slaanesh controls lusts and the desire for perfection in all things. Slaanesh could be considered to have more of the romantic aspects of love, but Nurgle has the familial and platonic versions securely locked down. He's got the kind of love that lasts even when you're a pus and bile spewing pile of cancerous tumours wallowing in your own filth.

Ah, Warhammer 40k... how can't you horrify me?

Was that a good horrify or a bad horrify?

Academia Nut wrote:Was that a good horrify or a bad horrify?

It's 40k. Does it matter which way?

Shinji worships Tzeentch, Rei is about to pledge her soul to Nurgle, Asuka is likely to become a Khorne berserker...

Does this mean Toji will become a devotee of Slaanesh?