Adeptus Evangelion: The 13th Hour (IC)

[Spartan Altego]

http://s21.postimg.org/rd4brqrjb/c9mpm_Z8s_W3k2.jpg

“And the Lord came down to see the city and the tower, which the children of men builded.
And the Lord said, Behold, the people is one, and they have all one language;
and this they begin to do: and now nothing will be restrained from them,
which they have imagined to do.”

- Genesis 11:5-6, The Bible, King James Version

[Spartan Altego]

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
Golgotha Base, ???, ???
[4:18AM]

The smell of cigarette smoke hangs heavily in the air, lingering above the heads of the sleepy men and women like a thin, oppressive smog. The lights have been dimmed, allowing a few of the dozen night shifters to catch moments of rest between the constant workload that was given to them daily by their superiors. A red light bathes the eastern half of the room, the source emitted through a large, wall-spanning observation monitor, uplinked to another room miles below them. It has been muted, but the screeching, thrashing shape exhibited can still be felt through the vibrations in the floor.

A chocolate skinned man scratches his curled beard with a tired sigh, the noise unheard in the dull whine of tapping keyboards and vibrating floors. "I can't believe it." He sighs again, wearily gazing at the ceiling, eyes tinted pink from the long hours spent awake; signs his brain was calling for rest that wouldn't come for...he checks his watch. Another two hours. Lovely.

A woman looks over at him from her own desk, hands typing continuously ever without her gaze. Blonde hair frames her features, and pale skin, tinted a bit yellow, greets him alongside her brown eyes. "Can't believe what, Jacob?" She asks, the tiredness in her voice not showing in her attentive stance or lightning fast keystrokes. Jacob admired that...it was kind of attractive, honestly. He found a lot of things about Ritsuko Akagi attractive. He sinks into his chair, deciding to stare dully at his computer screen, reports finished and completed, and hands pulsing with the pain of carpal tunnel.

"I've finally had the day where I can work without so much as being a little worried about the Angel they've got right beneath our feet," He replies, feeling some grim amusement creep up in him. "Damn, isn't that something? A giant, multi-ton creature is being dissected down to it's bones, here. I mean, we've got it down to tatters. But it's still thrashing about, still capable of totally blowing this place to smithereens, and I could give a damn less. I haven't even thought about the concept at all today. Or yesterday, now that I think of it."

He turns, seat swivelling around to face Ritsuko, who he notices has stopped typing. She's looking past him now, at the monitor. Jacob, deciding his words had probably brought the matter to her attention now as well, continues. "I mean, how the hell jaded do you have to be for that to-" He trails off as he notices Ritsuko's eyes widen...surprise bleeds into fear, bleeds into panic. Feeling a cold, squirming ball grow in his empty stomach, Jacob whirls in his seat as well to face the monitor, sleeping coworkers still oblivious to the crisis that had just arisen, had crept by them with nary a word.

He feels the exhaustion, the dark humor, being drained out of him and into the darkening fabric of his pants.

The 3rd Angel had vanished from its cage.

[Spartan Altego]

http://s22.postimg.org/iupvdwr81/13th_Hour_Episode_One.png

Opening Theme (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZYpg8a8yvu8&list=PLZGOTkHPGMpE5-0BYZLIodh-_QJRYM39)

[Spartan Altego]

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2I05_M726Jo/UP89PWKZEmI/AAAAAAAAA-0/95kPdrv4DfQ/s1600/Helicarrier+Ideation+19C_Web.jpg) 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
[1:00PM]

Enroute to Neo Valencia, AKA The Pit...

The room is quiet (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j8-E-Wjc7eU), the five sole occupants in the room quite at attention as the black haired, red eyed woman appears on the conference screen, her form backlit by a blue, twisting haze of light. Nasr wonders if that was some sort of theatrical effect, or if the woman really was standing in front of some sort of aquarium, sitting half in his leather seat, reclined back for comfort. His brown skin reflects the light of the conference ever so slightly, giving his complexion a richer tone and appearance than it truly had. Beside him, another, friendly looking boy with an eyepatch and ginger hair listens as well, eyeing his peer with an air of curiosity. His name is Felix.

Behind them, a woman stands, clad in a black combat uniform. A curly brunette, with hands clasped behind her back, and her eyes alert. The leaned-back nature of her stance highlights the black carbon fiber handgun holstered at her side. The children recognize her as their escort to the airstrip where they boarded this flying behemoth, which had also picked up their Evangelions and held their combined weights with little complaint. According to her, it had been designed for that sort of thing.

"Major Archer," The woman addresses the man sitting opposite from the children, and the female bodyguard, brown haired and brown eyed. Pale skin, his chin and mouth masked a bit by the thin brush of beard hair he had grown in the last month. It itches a bit, but he resists the urge to scratch at it. Better to wait until the Director of Seventh Heaven had finished speaking with him, first. "As you know, at 0400 this morning, Golgotha base had a breach of security, and the Package therein escaped, with no trace. By the presence of the children here, and now, I'm sure you've already guessed as to the nature of the Package. The 3rd Angel is currently crossing the South Atlantic from the readouts of the last Pattern Blue spike. By our estimates, it will arrive at the Pit within the next three hours."

Her neutral gaze turns into a hard frown. "This will not be allowed. The Helicarrier is currently being moved into position to intercept the target on the inner shoreline and disable it before it can enter through the Pit's barrier. The EVAs," Her eyes quickly flicker over to the children, listening attentively. "Will be airdropped down to the land, and will engage the target. The MAGI are at your disposal, as are a portion of our conventional forces for this mission. Weapons have already been loaded aboard the carrier, and umbilical stations placed in the designated zone." She blinks once, finally, after a solid five unflinching minutes. "You'll notice I said capture, not destroy."

Her frown deepens. "SEELE has ordered that the Angel be disabled, and stored within Seventh Heaven to continue research until such time as its usefulness has been outlived. The Angel's core must be captured intact, by whatever means you can. The rest is just waste, and may be targeted at your leisure."

Archer stands, and salutes his Commander, Saya Naveros. Behind him, his bodyguard, Kira, smirks a bit. Lorena, the children's bodyguard, simply watches impassively.

"These order have come from the council itself, Major." Says intones grimly. "Failure is not an option."

The monitor clicks off. Archer scratches his beard.

[jaybird]

Failure is not an option.

Failure.

Intolerable.

Major Archer, formerly of the United States Army, now of NERV, drops his salute and turns to his tablet, eyes dancing as he flips through the MAGI tactical analysis of his target. Satisfied with the conclusions drawn and unable to make any headway of his own, he nods. Idiots at Golgotha let it escape the full Hannibal Lecter treatment? I'd be appalled, but that's what you get for letting scientists run a war operation. Looks like NERV needs their Agent Starling.

Giving his scruffy beard one more scratch, he looks up, catching the eyes of both teenage boys sitting in the briefing room and clearing his throat.

"Alright, kids. I've been hearing about ass-kicking, dog-kicking, and s***-kicking living legends for months now. Time for you two to live up to the legend." Eyeing the two-

Chatham, Joan. Private. Age 16. KIA May 2, 2010. Nguyen, M-

-he shakes his head, wondering how he blanked out for a second there. With a shrug, he attributes it to tiredness, and taking a sip of his coffee, he continues.

"Golgotha's managed to mess the big bad beastie up something good with their scalpels and syringes, so we're at an advantage for now. Hit fast and hit hard, because there's no telling how quickly this thing can regenerate itself. In even better news, it's got a 12th-degree A.T. Field, but it can only use about half that strength to defend itself." He sips more of his coffee. Just as the cavalry's steel mounts ran on gasoline, the men inside them ran on caffeine. "Now for the bad news. Despite its weaker Field, it can deploy it in a particular configuration that's likely to significantly reduce damage from explosive weaponry. That means the big bada-boom hardware is no-go for this mission, unless you like exercises in futility. On top of that, it's got a short-range teleport." Looking up, he grins wolfishly. "Basically, it's good at hitting the deck and running away. No threat at all. Our job is to drag it back to NERV on the high horse we rode in on. Bring the Core back intact, and try to not blow up too much sand along the way."

His eyes focus in on the tactical map display. "Nasr, you're up first. Drop in and engage the Angel in a gunfight. Limb shots if at all possible, we want it alive. Once it's focused on you, Felix will assault the Angel at close quarters. I wonder if big space monsters like it up'em? The loadouts you're both most familiar with have already been prepared, and 2nd NERV Airborne Regiment will be deploying in support. I'll coordinate operations from here, call sign The Don. We've got a few hours still, so I suggest the two of you get some food or rest. Questions?"

-itchell. Corporal. Age 17. KIA May 2, 2010.

He scowls into his coffee. He'd get some rest too, only if he didn't have to brief his battalion commanders and supervise final Evangelion preparations. This was not the time to blank out.

[Fernosaur]

Aerial deployment. Aerial deployment! Those words shot through his veins in a flash, sparking a kind of excitement he had never felt before. Of course, he had never actually been in a real mission. A real mission! This was the REAL thing!

Felix had been a bit nervous during the whole day, what with being suddenly summoned into action. Before he knew anything, he was already aboard a carrier with a stern woman and a stern pilot, not to mention a stern man who apparently was going to be running the operations. Mayor Archer; he had heard a bit about him, but not enough to know what to expect.
Heh, of course, he always expected the roughest out of people.

The first thing that came to his mind was discomfort at being called a "kid" by his superior. Definitely not how he had hoped to be adressed, although, of course, he had been called worse before. Much worse.
Managing to ignore that petty detail, he kept on listening to the officer attentively, and memorized the details Archer shared about the angel. 12th degree strength, 6th degree defensive capability. A teleporter would be challenging, but exciting. The boy couldn't help a confident and eager smile from forming on his lips while the Mayor gave his briefing.
It all came tumbling down as soon as he started giving orders, though.

I'm going second? Felix thought to himself. You gotta be kidding...

His smile turned into a slight glare aimed at his fellow pilot, but he immediately controlled himself and his more amicable look returned, then nodded at what the Mayor had reserved for him. "Calm down... you can't enter a gunfight, you can't shoot right. It's okay..." he told himself in his head while his right eye fixed on the Mayor's.

"We're going to mutilate his body completely, then." said the red-head. He might as well reconsider his regular equipment and switch to slashing weapons. He nodded and stood up, saluting firmly and proudly. "Permission to access the Evangelion deployment bridge, sir. I'd... like to spend a little time with my unit before heading out."

He didn't really like to call Armstrong a "unit", but he knew how the rest of the personel thought about the Evangelions. Fighting machines, pure weapons, that was it. No one actually understood what was under it all. No one but him.

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

Despite the briefing, Nasr is distracted. Earth's gravity sure feels weird compared to the stations, or even the moon's... he thinks. Ah well it's another environment to dominate, that's good enough. He takes a big gulp of his second energy drink this flight, hands still steady despite all the caffeine rushing through him. The long fingers of one of the boy's hands play lightly with the richly jeweled Hand of Fatima medallion around his neck. Wearing comfortable yet fashionable clothes under a high-collared jacket and having arrived 'down-well' only a few hours before, Nasr listens to the woman. He silently tenses and releases his major muscle groups, from his feet ascending to his shoulders and neck. He watches this woman--apparently their new Commander?--impassively, noting with a certain displeasure how unprofessional she is to wear her feelings on her face suchly before her subordinates. When the monitor clicks off, Nasr extends his legs straight in a stretch and sighs.

"Capture it?!" his eyes widen and he sits up straight."Sounds like keeping it in a cage started this whole mess. I bet we'll be doing all this again in six months if that's the OpDir." That thought aside, Nasr gives a little shrug and returns to his lazy position. He can't help but roll his eyes at the 'kid' comment. Typical pre-Impact American, he thinks before he starts talking at the major.

"Hmm, sir, I get that the enemy can probably stand up to a coordinated armor strike for days, buuuuuuut that's only if it's prepared for that to happen, right?" Nasr grins wolfishly. "What I mean to say is, it takes us a couple seconds to get our Fields up, it should be the same for them, right? Explosive weapons could be a good way to kick an ambush off. One missile round could do a good deal of damage before the enemy could deploy its Field. And, uhh, sounds like the same kind of A.T. Field projection that I've used with her in some of the field tests..." he turns to the other pilot. "I'm sure you know this, but just in case, it's a pretty good trick. If you picture your regular field like a big robe of mirrors, just imagine shifting it into the shape of a bunker. Little shots don't bounce off as well, they find the cracks and eye-slots. But big bombs just splash all over it without penetrating. With even low A.T. strength, you can basically stand up to on-target ICBMs without so much as a by-your-leave! But if you're not expecting an ICBM to the face, well that's a bit trickier, I'd think." He continues to smile, propping one booted foot up on something, looking quite laid back and taking another drink.

"In any case, if it's so harmless, this should be a piece of cake. I don't think a grade-six Field is going to be hard for me to shoot through, but a little help from you tearing its Field up would be great!" he offers a big grin to the other pilot, but the smile doesn't come close to touching his eyes. "So, how're we going to drop in? A-type equipment or something easier? Ambush it along its flight path?"

[Fernosaur]

A slight surprise was apparent in Felix's expression at his companion's rather... disrespectful behaviour. That wasn't a way to talk to a superior, specially not a NERV superior. Staring at Nasr with an eyebrow up, although attentively, he supressed an impulse to roll his eyes all the way at the A.T. Field lesson the other pilot was attempting.

"Yes. Yeah, I'm familiar with it..." he said shooting an unwilling but friendly smile at the arabic boy. "BUT, in that case", he continued, quickly switching looks to the Mayor, "If I go up to it and Neutralize his field completely, the Air Force could just bomb it down. I can spread a 6th degree field myself with no problems" says the boy in a cocky manner, taking his hand to his chest. "If they aim for the head or the arms, they could make it easy for us to strip it down to the core. I can forego the full protection from my AT field if it's necessary. I'm sure Armstrong can take more than whatever this thing can shoot at us, anyways."

He stared directly at the other pilot for a moment, not erasing the friendly grin from his face, and then sighed a little, continuing his words with a very slight chuckle. "Or, you know, if you think the angel's up to shoot you, I can try to cover you up with a distortion of light around my Eva. I'm sure you know how to do that, right? It's kind of like the robe of mirrors, but it's more like an outward projection than a means of defense. That way I can cloud the angel's sight of Unit Beta and keep her safe from harm if you're in a pinch."

He finished that sentence by smiling more notoriously at the other boy, as if trying to reassure him that he got his back. All of this, of course, while having reassured himself that AT Field manipulation was not something he was going to be left behind on.

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

"The Air Force has precision...like carpet bombing. And even the Air Force's best weapons aren't anywhere near Eva-grade. First generation Pallet technology is still basically a semiautomatic battleship cannon after all! I'm just talking about exploding it open so the core is better accessed. After all we basically have to strip all its appendages and everything off so it can't try to choke us when we take the core back!" He shrugs at the latter comments, eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Well I don't really need the help on getting through its Field, but if we have allied air and ground support, it could really help them. Don't worry about me too much, just keep it open and I'll line up the shots. Really though expending yourself completely like that is dangerous when we don't know how much madder and nastier it got since it escaped." He turns to look at the Major. "If you don't mind me asking, what was this Angel like before it was captured the first time, do you know? Sir?"

[Fernosaur]

"They may not be accurate, but unless the Angel's field is down there is no way the arial support can do anything for us save sending down equipment. And since the angel is regenerating as we speak, bombing it with everything we got could make things not only easier for us, but safer too."

He grinned at the mention of the danger the angel posed. Yes, it could be dangerous, that was precisely the point. Who else was willing to put his butt on the line? Him? Apparently not.

He didn't reply to the last his partner had to say, and instead opted to look at the Mayor and wait for his input on the angel. At that moment he realised he had been letting his pride get the best of him, making him forget he indeed was in the presence of his superior officer.

Way to make a first impression, stupid he thought to himself, still standing, and now leaning with one arm on the carrier's seat.

[Spartan Altego]

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
[1:08PM]

"If I may," Kira speaks softly, raising a single hand to draw attention. When the eyes of the room are upon him, he lowers it. "The Angel was captured in an embryonic state, and as such has been monitored throughout its development. All the information available has been provided to you; in a very literal sense, this is the first battle we have had with his creature." He leans back into the wall, folding his arms. "That being said, the creature was originally captured with an array of Enochian hex seals carved into a diamond-weave titanium cage. No," He smiles wryly, as amused by the ridiculousness as he is serious. "That is not a joke."

"However, as we currently lack those devices, we're going to need to make do with a regular cage, and whatever the research team onboard can make up. If the Angel is stripped to the very core, the EVAs can suppress whatever else it cooks up while we move it to Seventh Heaven." He directs a cursory glance towards Archer. "If that line of planning works for you, sir."

Lorena says nothing, but her dark eyes meet Archer's own questioningly.

[jaybird]

Raising an eyebrow, Archer contemplates the back-and-forth between the pilots - his pilots, now. They certainly didn't lack spirit, not with the way they were already competing with each other. Still, they had raised a few good points, and he opens his mou-

Draper, Ashley. Corporal. Age 16. KI-

A cough interrupts him before he can say anything, and he takes a few breaths before addressing the pilots. "Good points all around, and I'll address them in turn. Felix, after the briefing is concluded I don't care where you go, as long as your butt is firmly planted in your Entry Plug by Zero Hour." He couldn't really fault the kid for wanting to spend time with his...well, vehicle, he supposed. He had done the same with his IFV back-

-A May 2, 2010.

"Nasr - I am pronouncing your name correctly?" His lips twitch slightly. "For what it's worth, you're making a sound assessment on the dangers of keeping this thing captive. That's why I'm going to time how long it takes the two of you to bring Big Ugly down," and the twitch erupts into a full smirk, "and in six months, I'll expect Big Ugly down twice as fast. Hooah?" Waiting a few seconds for their response, he proceeds forward with the briefing.

Now, to address their little teenage measuring contest...even though he really didn't want to. Saya would probably yell at him again later if he didn't. "Look, kids, I know we all want to whip it out and compare who's bigger, but trust me, Agent Duwait here would be the only winner." Ah, who's he kidding, Saya would probably yell at him anyway. With a wink towards the Section 2 agent, he points at the two pilots. "Fact of the matter is, mission comes first, and that means the two of you work together. You aren't going in together or setting up an ambush because it's a teleporter - and the last thing I want is Space Godzilla taking a leisurely stroll around two trillion-dollar glorified turrets. It's a good point about the airstrikes, but they'll only get one shot before the Angel's defenses come up. Nasr, that means you'll have about a squadron of fighter-bombers coming in hot in front of you. Try not to bump into them. Felix, when you're in the air you're going to be a sitting duck. Let Nasr dictate its range of engagement, then hit it when it's off balance. He's the anvil, you're the hammer." Time for a little ego-stroking, he decided. Didn't the eggheads say confidence correlated to piloting capability or something like that? "The two of you are awfully confident, for fresh meat. Tell you what...get me that thing's Core in five minutes or less, and I'll take the two of you out for dinner for a week."

[Fernosaur]

That reply definitely caught him by surprise. In a positive kind of way, of course. A smile soon formed in the young boy's face as the Major kept talking. He nodded and shot a "Yessir" at the expectations his new superior had of them in taking the Angel down a second time.

The Director now had his complete attention, although this turned out to be a little counter-productive to Felix, as the hypothetical and figurative prospect of them "comparing sizes" in front of the agent sent a shiver down his spine, and he could feel cold sweat slowly coming out of his forehead as flashing imaginings of what that could entail started striking his mind. He managed to keep under control, gulping a bit loudly while eyeing agent Duwait timidly and taking a few steps away from the woman, then leaning his back on a wall while the Major kept briefing them.

Archer's words were enough to pep him up a little, though, and after a sigh and a quick and a mildly anxious nod, the kid shot a once again confident smile back at the veteran.

"We'll bring it back to you in three, sir." said the youth after a sigh while staring directly at the Major's eyes.

"Permission to be dismissed, sir". After waiting for the man's approval while in saluting position, he then turned around, giving the other pilot one last look before leaving the room, but this time it was a much friendlier one, followed by a smile and a nod.


Walking through the cramped and steely halls of the helicarrier was a bit reminiscent of older days, mostly of the times he had gone exploring through the labyrinthian streets of the London Geofront's less fancy areas. The memories of his master and the place he guessed he could call his home distracted him slightly from the other less relaxing thoughts that had assaulted him during the meeting.

His mind flashed a glimpse of the Section 2 agent slowly unbuttoning her shirt, and a goosebump made him tremble. He could feel his hands getting sweatier, and as he tried to look for a lavatory he kept wiping them off on his pristine Nerv uniform.

He finally found what seemed like the most beautiful place in the world: a bathroom with a sink and fresh, clear, running water. He rushed towards it, got soap on his hands, and started scrubbing his palms rapidly, feeling as if those disturbing thoughts were being washed away into the carrier's draining system.

Once he was done with his hands, he put his face under the faucet, letting the cold graze of the water soak his forehead and hair.

He got up after some seconds, looking at the mirror in front of him, and letting out a big sigh. There was actually no one around him.

Lowering his head a little, he then slapped himself soundly, as if that would make him 'man up' from his little crisis, which he hoped no one had actually noticed. He sighed once more, and started walking firmly towards the Evangelion cages.

"It's our big day, my friend." he whispered, confident that, somehow, Armstrong would be able to hear him.

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

"Nasr, yes sir, correct," he responds, slightly taken aback at his superior's response. Not...the way Father or Uncle would have reacted... he muses. Whether that's good or bad has yet to be seen. He sits up straighter and listens to the Major outline the plan, casting a couple glances at his fellow pilot. While clearly Nasr is superior, he can't help but feel something positive for this other pilot whose job is to get up close with the Angel and keep it off of him, and the other young man seems positively ready, eager, and nonchalant about the whole thing.

Then the Major starts into a lewd idiom. Nasr swallows, flushing slightly. He glances at the women in the room before his eyes return to the Major. Yes, this one is quite unprofessional too, he thinks with exasperation. And rather quite American, unfortunately. I suppose it can't be helped for now though. In Von Braun City, the command team hadn't been Muslim, but they had tried to motivate him properly, keying into the values that he found important. They had realized his true nature, had honed it for specific purposes, found channels for the violence lurking below the surface and cultivated those channels like irrigation ditches, sending the rage along established pathways to produce known results.

This commander was obviously new, did not have years of experience with these pilots, and yet it seemed strange he didn't know this, as if it all weren't carefully documented and passed along. Unless it wasn't. NERV may have a fancy airship, but no telling if they put that attention to detail into their personnel, not like the UN facilities proper. He can't help but notice the other pilot not reacting positively either and feels thankful that he's not the odd-one-out with this.

"We'll get it done, sir. Um..." he glances around. "Just so I am in the right place when deployment time rolls around, where can I find my plugsuit? I think it would be a proper idea to change and prepare in advance and," Nasr takes a deep breath, unsure of what the response to this next point will be, "And I require time to practice my faith before battle," he adds.

[Spartan Altego]

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
The Briefing Room
[1:13PM]

"The lockers aren't far from this room," Lorena speaks, voice sharp, and chilled. She seems less angered by Archer's comment and more mildly disinterested. Curtly, she continues. "Take a right out of the room, go down the hall, and take a left. You'll find your plugsuit in the only other locker in the room, marked by your Evangelion's designation. The Cages are connected to the lockers as well, so you can just walk right in once you're finished."

"Not one for mincing words, are we, Lorena?" Kira wryly asks, face still blank.

"No." Lorena replies simply, and stands upright, looking at Nasr. "Follow me, I'll take you there." Without waiting to see if he follows, she makes for the door, opening it and slithering out soundlessly.

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
The Evangelion Cages
[1:13PM]

If his Unit heard his message, it gave no visible response in turn. The cool metal of the armor plating chills his hand through the fabric of his plugsuit, a sign that the EVA was inactive. When the umbilical was plugged in, and all systems activated, the metal would grow warm...full of life. And power. And it was those moments that Felix cherished among the many perks of his job. Muted footsteps tickle his ears.

"Um, who are you talking to?" A curious voice questions from behind him. Felix turns, eyes meeting the emerald ones of a gray-uniformed, red haired woman (http://postimg.org/image/ir6h6f6ul/). She looks at him questioningly, long hair dropping past her shoulders, black hat perched on her head. "Oh!" She exclaims, looking much less puzzled, now. "You're one of the pilots. That makes sense." Nodding to herself, she offers a hand. "Naomi Jerald, at your service. I'm one of the engineers who works on your EVA."

"You would be...Felix, then, right?"

[jaybird]

Well, that explains why Nasr didn't like the joke. Leaning against the tactical map display, he watches as the irritated Section 2 agent escorts his Eva-scale marksman to the locker rooms. At least Felix had a normal reaction for a teenager...if a bit too nervous.

He turns, eyes meeting those of the only other person left in the room. "Thoughts on the kids, Kira?"

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

The Arabic boy jumps up, gives the Major a salute, and follows Lorena out into the hallway. He can't help but flush if he thinks she's going to go into the locker room with him.

Before changing, it's time to pray. Stripping off his boots, Nasr selects an appropriate location and then makes his way to a sink, washing his hands, face, hair, and feet. That being done, he shakes the remainder of wetness off, glances at the clock and quickly at a compass app on his phone to roughly discern the direction towards Mecca.

"Allāhu Akbar," Nasr intones quietly, raising his hands to his face, flat with the palms out. He then crosses his arms over his chest, right over left.

{Arabic} "I declare You free and far removed from all imperfections, O Allah, and all praise is for You. Blessed is Your Name. Great and Exalted is Your Kingdom. None has the right to be worshipped besides You.

O Allah forgive me, and have mercy upon me, and suffice me, and raise my rank, and grant me safety and well-being, and grant me provision...In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful."

Nasr begins the prayer for 'Sura Al-Fatiha.' He knows the words by heart, rising and falling and kneeling in the way his people have done for a thousand years. After reveling in the moments following the prayer, he returns to the locker and opens it, hanging the loose plugsuit nearby, a vibrant bloody red with white accents, quite appropriate to the work at hand.

Nasr strips off his clothes swiftly, spending scant seconds naked before his legs are in the suit. Once the floppy suit is at least held firmly above his waist and sealed to the small of his back, he takes his time fitting and sealing the rest of it, the Hand of Fatima medallion dangling from his neck. Nasr pulls this out from the neck slot to hang against his chest before pressing the pressure clamp to expel the air and tighten the suit to his body. Again, he flushes slightly at the immodesty of it all and glances around as he starts to fiddle with the A-10 clips. {Arabic} "In Your name, grand me the rights and privileges as your Sword, O God, and in Your name, wieldingYour chosen weapon Ḍū al-Fiqār, I shall smite the ruination of this false Herald upon Heaven and Earth," he murmurs as he fixes the clips in place, bowing again in the direction of Mecca.

Finally securing his belongings in the locker, Nasr wonders where his 'tour guide' went off to as he exits the locker room, looking for directions to the hangar and his Evangelion.

[Fernosaur]

Felix smiles at the new-comer. He wasn't surprised by her presence; after all, it was only natural that the cages were filled with the technical staff. Nodding in response to the last question, he takes her hand and gives her a firm and warm shake. He then smiles at her and laughs a little. "I wonder what gave me away." he says jokingly, making a hand gesture referencing his plugsuit. "Felix Cavaliere. Nice to meet you, Naomi."

Ever since he was 10 or so, he had become accustomed to refering to the Nerv staff -specially the techs- by their first names. Oddly enough, most of them seemed to be completely comfortable with it. So, you're going to be working on Armstrong from now on? I don't remember you from back in London."

And he WOULD remember her. Felix was in great terms with all of the tech-staff from his former home, and he could still recite everyone's names and last names. Of course, he planned to do the same inside the Seventh Heaven.

"You have to talk to her if I'm not around, you know? Otherwise she might start feeling lonely." The pilot gently caresses the bright blue metal plating once again, not helping an affectionate smile form on his face.

[Spartan Altego]

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
The Briefing Room
[1:16PM]

Kira tilts his head, considering his words. "The Felix boy seems stable enough, although that doesn't mean much at all, given his history." The air of...alienity around the child didn't help, either. His features seemed set at just the slightly wrong angles, giving him the impression of a imperfectly drawn portrait of a person. It was almost disturbing. Almost. "He's got a better attitude than I'd expected, although it certainly won't last long. The other kid, Nasr? He seems more like the type you'd get from the Neo-Spartan program. Definitely one of SEELE's boys."

Sometimes, Kira wished he had a cigarette on hand to smoke when giving speeches like this. All the better to appear aloof and mysterious. He resists a sigh, adjusting his position. "Lorena seems to like them, so I think they're okay kids, despite what the psych reports imply. As for what kind of soldiers they'll be..." He shrugs. "Well, I suppose we'll see, won't we? You'd know better than anyone what battles do to a person." Certainly better than himself. He'd killed his first human being when he was fourteen, and all he felt was a strong thirst for a cola. Granted, killing a person and killing a massive, reality-warping monstrosity were two very different things.

"Whatever the case, there's little to be done about any flaws they have for now. There's work to be done, and little time to do it. We should head for the command center."

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
Outside the Lockers.

Lorena's waiting just outside the line between the halls and the lockers, alertly watching either side of the area for potential hostiles, threats. She answers his question with an irritated frown. "I told you already; the Cages are through the other ends of the locker room. Just go past the showers, and through the big steel door. Your partner's already in there." She turns to face him, eying him up. Whomever designed those plugsuits needed to be imprisoned.

"After you," She gestures back into the lockers levelly. She didn't quite feel like leading the boy again. Having him find his own way would only benefit him in the future.

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
The Evangelion Cages

"Oh, I was only recently assigned." Naomi clarifies. Her eyes wander past his own, settling on the great blue-red beast behind him. "What a magnificent creature, huh?" She asks rhetorically. "Don't worry, I'll be spending pretty much half my days around Alpha. I mean," She pauses. "Armstrong. Plenty of time for chatting."

The door to the lockers swings open, Nasr striding through, with Lorena, the bodyguard, trailing behind. Naomi tilts her head, waving slowly. "You must be the other pilot. I was just getting acquainted with your partner, here. Naomi Jerald, nice you meet you." She offers a hand sincerely.

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

Not really caring for the Agent's tone, Nasr just goes ahead and sets off silently toward the "big steel door."

The hangar of this aerial monstrosity doesn't disappoint: it comfortably holds two Evangelion, with seeming room for at least a couple more, plus boxes of gear, armor parts, and (apparently) full load-outs of Special Type Armor. Nasr notes this, having come through the door to see Unit Alpha outfit with A-type equipment, and Unit Beta's conversion still ongoing. His mouth forms a flat line at the other Eva. Why's it so big and bulky? he wonders. Oh well, having a bigger target for the False Heralds to fire at can't hurt my position.

Nasr turns his eyes to Unit Beta: the same basic shape but shorter, much slimmer, in a much bolder (in some ways) color scheme than Alpha's red-and-blue. Beta's broad chest and long, spindly wings give way to a positively gaunt torso and muscular yet wiry legs. Nasr can't help but relax a little seeing the Unit.

Then someone comes up. Another woman, seemingly clad in an engineering outfit. Nasr is momentarily taken aback, though it's hardly the first time he's seen a female engineer; more that it seems like everyone here is a woman, or white, or both.

{Arabic} "So much for diversity hires," Nasr mutters. He looks at the extended hand and after a moment gives the engineer a firm handshake. {English} "Nasr Abd al-Aziz ibn Abbas al-Rashid Al Saud," he deadpans, holding back the eyeroll that usually follows saying his full name to someone who isn't Middle Eastern. "Are you the Chief Engineer?"

[jaybird]

Archer shuts down the room's projector table and steps out into the ship's corridors, waiting for his bodyguard to follow him to the elevator. "Battles do different things to different people, Kira. In my case, it made me stronger. Better at my job." He briefly thinks back to his Silver Star, awarded a few days before his 19th birthday. "These two?" He shrugs, gesturing for Kira to enter the elevator cab taking them from the briefing room, situated near the armouries and hanger bays, to the bridge. "There's a reason we stopped fielding child soldiers in the Army as soon as we could. Not all of us were as suited for it as I am. We'll see soon enough, regardless."

Their elevator stops, and Archer strides forward, ignoring both the tradition of asking the captain for permission to enter the bridge and the glares fired at him for ignoring said tradition. "The pilots are preparing for drop. What's our ETA to the DZ? Someone get me a line through to 2nd Airborne's commander." Grabbing a passing Ensign by the shoulder, he hands him his empty mug. "And you have been commissioned with the most difficult duty of all. Get me more coffee. No sugar, no milk. Hop to it, people!"

[Spartan Altego]

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
The Bridge

The Ensign mutters under his breath, but quickly complies with the Major's orders and hurries out of sight. Captain Palmer eyes Archer with a mixture of amusement and authority. The man's tall height, and significant bulk, made him an intimidating physical force, to be sure, even as the wrinkles across his dark skin, and salt-and-pepper hair, show his increasing age against the blue of his uniform. But the true power Palmer held, Archer knew, was not in his muscles, or his features. It was the power he held over his crew.

If Palmer ordered it, every single worker in the room would kill Archer and Kira with naught but plastic knives. That was the power the man held in his brown eyes, and in his soft voice. And it was that power that was now directed towards him. "Major Archer." He greets cordially. "ETA is currently measured as forty-three minutes, twelve seconds. Communications with 2nd Airborne have already been established; you are free to command as you need."

Palmer gestures to the panel beside him, the audio link already activated, and turns on his heel to gaze that the view-screens linked to the front mast of the ship. Unlike what films had the Post-Impact populace believe, having wide, grandiose windows to gaze out from at the front of your battleship was not a tactically sound measure to take. The staff work in unified silence as they await further orders from the Captain, the Major a passing fancy at best in their thoughts.

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
The Evangelion Cages

"Nice to meet you, Nasr Abd al-Aziz ibn Abbas al-Rashid Al Saud," Naomi replies, pronouncing his full name with a smooth, almost authentic accent. "{Arabic} Diversity does indeed hire," Naomi smiles, shaking his hand equally firmly. "{Arabic} Most of the crew is back in Valencia, at the base. You'll be more pleased with the range of people back there, I'll bet. Just gotta get the Angel, first, right?"

Switching back to English, she queries. "Nah, I'm not the Chief. Just a regular engineer, here." She tilts her head, demeanor relaxed. "So, any special names for your EVA, Nasr? I gotta make sure the crews keep them in mind when they work on them." She looks back at Felix for a second, then meets Lorena's neutral gaze. She pauses for a moment, then takes the hint. "Ah, well, I'd best be going. Let you guys get ready and all. Nice meeting you!" She hurries past the Section Two agent, who regards the twin children aloofly.

"Well? Get ready." With those parting words, Lorena turns on her heel, and strides after Naomi, the door to the lockers closing behind her...leaving them alone, with only the distant engineers and machinery fitting Unit Beta, and each other, for company.

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

Nasr flushes slightly as the woman perfectly pronounces his name, with all the proper inflections and tones. He's puzzled enough by that when she starts to respond to him in Arabic, and the flush makes him blanch white, embarrassed that she understood him. "I, uh...pleasure to meet you, uh, other name? Um, I call her--it--Zulfiqar, for the sword of Ali," he manages. Then it seems like it's time for the pilots to be alone.

"Psh. 'Get ready.' As if she knows what it's like," Nasr says scornfully, with only Felix to hear. This one-eyed guy is the only person on this ship, maybe the only other person in the whole world, who knows what it's like to synch with an Eva. And what a mess, at that.

He takes a look at the nearby plug gantries before walking towards his own. "Good hunting," he adds to Felix.

[Fernosaur]

Did he really just speak Arabic in a room full of people who don't?, was Felix's first thought when Nasr started complaining in his native language. When the other boy introduced himself, he wasn't sure if he was just mumbling again, but THEN Naomi also followed. The redhead looked at both intermitently, with a childishly confused look on his face while the pair shared such foreign words, and then pouted slightly. There better be some French people on board as well..., he thought. Like hell was his companion going to be the only one mumbling stuff he wouldn't understand.

"See ya later, Naomi!", Felix shouted to the girl just before she crossed the door. He didn't really mind the agent's words, he had something else on his mind that was uncomfortable at that precise moment.

He glared slightly at Nasr once he started walking towards his Evangelion, slightly offended at the way he had adressed his own companion. "You didn't really mean calling her an 'it', did you?". His voice sounded firm and somewhat blunt when he spoke, loud enough for Nasr to hear him through the sound of the carrier and the Eva crew.

From anyone else, Felix would have taken that comment with a grain of salt. From anyone but a pilot. It just didn't seem right that someone else who knew what it was like to synch with an Evangelion could be so cold to it, but he was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He himself had done similar things in the past, knowing that other people didn't really understand how things actually worked, and they would just shoot wierded-out looks at him for talking about a "giant robot" like it was a person.

[jaybird]

Archer nods at the Captain, stepping up to the provided communications panel and focusing on the face of the 2nd NERV Airborne Regiment's commander. I wonder what the stiffs in the Army would have thought about putting a Major in charge of a Colonel and his regiment? Who am I kidding, they'd probably be too busy having aneurysms to think about it.

"Colonel Ramirez? Archer speaking. Good to go?"

"As always, Major. What is the mission?" In contrast to Archer, Colonel Santiago Ramirez is heavyset, dark-skinned, and utterly devoid of any sense of humour.

"Glad to hear it. Bridge crew here tells me we've got forty-three minutes before drop, so your boys and girls can get some last-minute bathroom duties sorted out. At zero hour, your attack helos and fighter-bombers are going in with Unit Beta as an alpha strike. Their missions is to do as much damage as they can before Big Ugly's defenses come up. Once that happens, I want them to withdraw and stand by for targets of opportunity. No point wasting ammo on something they'll never punch through."

Colonel Ramirez scowls at Archer's estimation of the effectiveness of his forces, but nods, accepting the Major's threat assessment. "Understood. Alpha strike, then stand by. I assume my lift helos will provide support to the Evangelions?"

"You got it, Ramirez. All Evangelion equipment not dropping in with the kids will be in Hanger Bays 5 and 10." The two stern-most hanger bays on the helicarrier. "That thing is headed straight for The Pit, Colonel. We are not gonna let some big space monster stomp all over one of our few surface cities. Hooah?"

"Hooah!" Ramirez grunts, already turning from his viewscreen to call out orders to his battalion commanders. Nodding in satisfaction, Archer picks up the fresh cup of coffee the Ensign has delivered him and activates communications to the Entry Plugs. Alright, kids...let's see if you really are all that my files say you are.

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

Nasr gives the other pilot a long, hard look which ultimately breaks down into a softer gaze before he begins. "Look, I did it for her benefit. And when I say 'her,' I mean Engineer Jerald and also Agent Duwait since she was listening in. Other people have never reacted well to me calling Unit Beta 'her,' as if Beta's nature something I shouldn't know or at least shouldn't acknowledge like that. Which is absurd, right? As if I could help it, being connected to her body on that level, so often."

The other pilot shrugs. "You of all people should know that they just don't understand what it's like. Not even the technical people on the engineering and science teams who can intellectually get how it works. They keep it dry because they've never once felt what it's like. They know the Evas aren't pure robots, of course they know they're biological, but they don't think of them as..." he trails off. "Well, you know what I mean, I'm sure of it from how you just prickled up. I said 'it' so I wouldn't get any grief from Engineering or Operations later about me being 'too nostalgic about my Evangelion' or whatever. So just relax."

Not waiting for a response, he turns his back to the other pilot and heads for his plug.

[Fernosaur]

Felix's expression rapidly changed to a slightly annoyed one once Nasr started rambling again. Jeez... this guy sure loves the sound of his own voice, he thought while his eye rolled to the side.

"Yeah, I do know how it is. You don't have to give me another lecture about it." Switching his gaze from the Arab to Unit Beta, he crosses his arms on his chest and lets out a sigh "But I don't think you're giving these people enough credit. I know some of them can be very annoying about the whole 'aww-the-kid's-so-attached-to-it' thing." while he mentions that last part, he moves his hands to the sides of his head, making a silly "dork" gesture and rolling his eye. "But some of them are actually pretty smart. And I don't mean that because of their PhDs. It wouldn't hurt you to get to know them better sometime. That way they could let you in on the bridge every day once we get to Seventh Heaven. They're all really friendly people too."

Making a short pause to take a look at the crew working on Unit Beta, or Zulfiqar, more appropiately, he smiles and then looks at Nasr once more. "We're gonna be living inside the same walls as them from now on, after all. And they're the ones that will take care of her most of the time, you know? It might take a while, but most of them can really come to understand the true nature inside of her."

He took one more look at the other boy, and somehow felt like he was just talking to a wall. Frowining a little bit, he unfolds his arms letting out a sigh. "But anyways, you know? Happy hunting too."

Turning round, he finally started climbing the metal ladder onto the Entry Plug access bridge. The crewmen all stepped aside for him to climb in, and he greeted them all with a smile. "Hey, guys!" he casually started "I... don't think we have much time for introductions, but we can do that once we come back, okay? Hope you took good care of 'er while I was gone!"

With a quick gesture, he saluted the tech crew, some of whom smiled back at him, one even saluting as well, and with a fast, almost joyful hop he got inside the metal tube.

Ah... the smell was so nice. So nice. With the help of the tech guys, he closed the hatch and breathed deeply inside the darkness, the dim light of the auxiliary LEDs being the only thing guiding him to his seat. He quickly sat down and put his hands on the controllers, closing his eyes with a smile on his face.

"Okay, buddy... here we go. We can do it. We sure as hell can do it." he whispered to himself. He then prompted the holographic user interace for the pilots and opened the communications channel with the bridge by sliding his fingers on the suspended display in front of him.

"Evangelion Test Unit Alpha reporting to bridge. Awaiting orders and ready to roll, Sir!". Gallantly smiling towards the camera, he shot a thumbs-up to his superior officer.

We're going in. We're going in!

[Spartan Altego]

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
The Bridge/The Cages

GRMM (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=or0QrZ92OYk)

"Evangelion Test Unit Alpha reporting to bridge. Awaiting orders and ready to roll, Sir!"

"Evangelion Test Unit Beta reporting to bridge. Awaiting orders."

Archer's Ensign returns with his mug of coffee, steaming hot, loaded with sugar and flavoring. The man hurries to his post, an amused glance from Palmer the Captain's only comment.

The status lights of the two Evangelions turn green on the combat monitor, and the EVAs are moved into position on the rail track beneath their feet, metal whirring and sparking with the exertion of moving their combined weights. The two Units are settled across the Cages, facing one another with dimly glowing eyes. Unit-Alpha, standing with a proud crimson sheen, pylons and gauntlets highlighted with sea blue. Unit-Beta, ivory white, and dashed with bloody marks of its own.

The pilots wait within while the Helicarrier accelerates to tops speeds, descending in altitude. Dozens of Air Force jets ascend up past the white layer of clouds that the carrier so gracefully glided above, darting about around the beast of NERV in tiny clusters. The sun hangs high above even these soaring crafts, scorching the metal black with its heat, even against the chilled winds of the endless blue skies. Major Archer stands beside Captain Palmer, hands clasped behind his back. Kira and Lorena stand behind either superior, their bodies relaxed, but their eyes still alert. Kira hums lightly, feeling some dredges of anticipation welling inside him for the first time in months.

Finally, the first battle between EVA and Angel. If nothing else, it was sure to be bloody interesting.

- - - - - - - - -

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
Above the DLZ
[1:56PM]

Unit-Alpha's communications ping, followed by Unit-Beta's. They had arrived at their destination, half a kilometer below, where camouflaged tank squadrons and attack helicopters awaited their arrival, ready to assist at the orders of the Operations Director. A countdown begins, T-minus ten seconds. Nasr and Felix feel the bliss of their EVAs fogging their minds, reinforcing their will, the strength in their arms, in their hearts. The thrusters on Unit-Beta's shoulders warm up, a dim orange glow slowly growing from within the dark tubes. The glow of the thrusters matches the glow induced within Nasr.

T-minus five seconds.

The hangar floor beneath the EVAs' feet slides apart with a groaning of gears and machinery, leaving them hanging suspended over the long, stretching sands of the desert below, masked by the wisps of cloud that hung between them. The locks on Unit-Beta's shoulders begin to loosen.

T-minus one second.

The towering figure drops from the hangar bay of the helicarrier, and comes falling, falling down from the heavens, to the scorched Earth below.

[jaybird]

Archer barely even notices the taste of the coffee as he sips at it, eyes boring holes into the tactical display. As the last flight of fighter-bombers takes off into the holding pattern around their mothership, he sets the mug down, nearly missing the table entirely so total is his concentration.

"Diamondback Lead, engage Target Alpha." One of the attack helicopters in the combat zone waggles from side to side, before abruptly banking towards the Angel. A split second later, the rest of its formation follows, three dozen in total. One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand, four-one thousand, now! Archer counts off the seconds in his mind, allowing time to ensure that the faster jets will be able to strike at the same time as the attack helicopters. "Maverick Lead, engage Target Alpha." Engines howling, the fighter-bombers under his command roll down, afterburners beginning to flare as they make their attack runs. "Unit Beta, conventional forces have deployed in support. As soon as they fire, you are cleared hot. Unit Alpha, stand by. You are cleared to engage once Unit Beta has opened fire."

Enei, Shawn. Private. Age 17. KIA May 2, 2010.

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

Nasr takes a deep breath as the plug locks into place between Unit Beta's vertebrae, tons of armor sliding into place over it. Even before the LCL flows in, Nasr is already feeling better - almost giddy. He fingers the medallion as the LCL rises to cover his face in the red light of the plug, blinks as the interior monitors run through thousands of tests and fade out to reveal the hangar.

Steady professional eyes flit across the head's-up display, noting the weapons locked into the Eva's hands--Someone gave me a missile launcher?! Ahahaha best make the most of it before the Angel turtles itself under that Field!--and various storage points.

On a wholly other level, Nasr feels the cold air below as the hangar doors slide open, feels the strong grip of shoulder restraints holding him in place. The Eva's fingers twitch slightly, its myriad of eyes blinking in unison beneath their armored viewports. Even that is a strange sensation still for Nasr, but a welcome one. Nasr takes several deep breaths, zooming in on various visible points to check the range-finder. And then the floor falls out from under him.

"Confirm shoulder locks released. A-Type board is all green. Controlled free-fall holding steady, thirty decameters per second."

The pilot pauses as his range-finder beeps, casting Unit Beta's head left and right and looking for---

"Target sighted, range: just short of one point three klicks. Descending to altitude seventy decameters," the altimeter ticks down, and Unit Beta brings her gyrojet launcher up in both hands to sight along the focal point of her eyes. "Tone," he murmurs, sighting the crosshairs along the target, waiting to fire so the massive warhead hits at the same time as the small fire of the conventional forces.

The HUD flashes as IFF identifiers pick up multiple swarms of small aircraft: low-flying helicopter gunships and descending fighter bombers, already releasing their (comparatively tiny) payloads at the target, many of which are already splashing harmlessly--not against the target's A.T. Field but simply against its exposed but armored core... The crosshairs flash from white to red, centered on the where the target's head should be. "Headshot lock. Unit Beta, Rifle!" Nasr pulls the trigger on the control wand, the Eva mimicking the motion in its own fingers, launching a massive rocket at the approaching Angel, grinning widely as the projectile explodes right in its face, bathing its head in fire and smoke. "It's a hit! Continuing rocket volley until enemy immunity confirmed."

[Fernosaur]

With his eyes closed and a confident smile on his face, Felix just awaited for the activation proceedures. After the LCL flooded the cabin and was ionized, he brought the holographic display up again and began playing around with the entry plug configuration. Sliding his finger through the screen, he was disappointed at not finding the movement-tracing program. It seemed like equipping the A-Type equipment had reset some system configurations. Ah well, we'll have to do it the old-fashioned style, my friend.

As soon as the monitors finally revealed his surroundings, he eyed the other unit, rising one eye-brow and flashing a cocky pout. He was a bit sour towards Nasr for leaving him talking to himself in the hangar, but he didn't really want that to be an obstacle during their first mission. Although it was so tempting to call the other boy some names... something he wouldn't really do outside of his Evangelion.

He watched unamused how Beta was released, and waited for the fire report with his eye closed. The sound of the wind entering the carrier was sharp, so he had to pay attention to the pilot's words. He felt the floor beneath his feet open up the way, and with an air of impatience finally listened to Nasr's fire confirmation.

"Unit Alpha, releasing shoulder locks. Dropping in, Sir!" he spoke loudly, grinning widely, as his Evangelion started the free-fall, his armor glowing bright red in the sky. "A-Type equipment nominal. Falling speed is 3 decameters per second." The boy looked down, looking for the smoke trail of his partner's and the conventional forces' fire, which lead him right to a bunch of explosions quite close to his calculated landing coordinates. "There you are, b*tch. Unit Alpha, engaging hostile!"

Through the dissipating smoke he could see the monster's figure, although thanks to his physical limitations, it was kinda blurry. He squints his glare, concentrating on the so-called "robe of mirrors" to be projected around him, and prompting the air surrounding the Eva to glow warm as his A.T. Field was spread. "A.T. Field up. I'll try to get the target's attention."

In a second, the characteristic octagonal shape of the field started shining brightly in front of him, sparkling through the sky as the unit fell. "Over here, you ugly motherf*cker!!" In a quick move, he raises the Pallet Rifle at the target, holding it steady and trying to aim as best as he could from that distance. It was hard telling if he was dead on or not, but the bullet storm might as well just confuse the target. Here goes nothing... the boy thought, pulling the trigger on the controls and releasing a barrage of metal onto the angel.

[Spartan Altego]

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
The Bridge

"Confirmed hit! The MAGI report significant damage done to the enemy!" A tech reports from across the bridge, to a small murmur of acknowledgement and raised cheer. Captain Palmer remains blank-faced, hands clasped behind his back as he watches the explosive round soar into the Angel's glowing head-crest, snapping the onyx head backwards with an audible cracking noise, the forehead sizzling red with the heat of the impact, flakes of armor chipping off and littering the sand beneath. The cranium hangs back for a moment, and the Angel's jagged mouth opens. A terrible hissing slithers out from its mouth...followed by a glowing red light.

"Energy spike detected! The Angel is retaliating!"

Garzardiel (http://s24.postimg.org/w1wba7whx/scathebeast.jpg) roars, a great fiery red ball forming just outside it's mouth. A white sigil, almost too small to be spotted, is drawn across the orb; a crucifix. The ball shoots forward with a crack if displaced air, morphing into a bloody lance of sizzling, crackling energy that arcs towards the falling Unit-Beta...

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
Above the DLZ

...But Unit-Beta was ready, and Nasr smirks as he dodges around the beam with a short left-ward thrust of his rockets. The attack detonates behind him, the EVA a shadowy figure against the crimson light of the cross. It continues to drop through the air, the ground soldiers cheering from within their heat-proofed tanks. With a slight burst from his thrusters, Nasr corrects his course, and continues downwards. Unit-Alpha fires repeated bursts at the angered foe, but the shots miss, littering the ground around the target.

[jaybird]

"Diamondback Lead, Maverick Lead, break off, say again, break off." As the pilots acknowledged his orders and banked away from the battlefield, he stares into the tactical display as if interrogating it for answers. I wonder how much damage that blast would have done against Nasr if it had hit? With a few flicks of his fingers, he focuses the tactical display in on the Angel, both deployed Evangelions hovering at the periphery of his screen. "Good shooting, Unit Beta. Keep at it. Unit Alpha, close the range and get in its face. I don't want that thing getting a second shot off."

Eyeing the screens set around the bridge, Archer's eyes narrow. "Replay me the last fifteen seconds on Diamondback Five-One's guncam, half speed!" He snaps out. There! "Unit Alpha, Unit Beta, listen up. Whatever Golgotha was restraining the thing with, some of it's still there, and the Angel hasn't been able to regrow its armor sheath on top yet. MAGI analysis indicates that there's about half as much armor on those weak spots as there is on the rest of the target. Highlighting specified areas and forwarding to you now."

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

Having dodged the incoming A.T. attack, Nasr surveys his handiwork and frowns, willing a video window to pop open, connecting him to Archer and the helicarrier bridge. "Castle, are you seeing what I'm seeing? That rocket should have done more damage,a lot more damage, based on where I dropped it and the lack of an A.T. Field protecting it," he complains.

"I mean, that's annoying! But I also think this thing is a lot tougher than it looks, even being all cut up and exposed like it is. I know it's a monster that defies physics but still, your eyes are closer than mine are, are you seeing the same thing? In any case..." he trails off, eyes turning away to another window on his HUD. "Felix, try to keep it off me while I bring my defenses online. I'll continue bombardment after that!"

As Unit Beta continues its descent, Nasr pushes outward against the boundaries of the world, crafting a bubble, an immaculate, invisible bunker of armor visible on the A.T. spectrum as large, interlocking hexagonal plates made from no known particles at all.

[Fernosaur]

A grin lit up Felix's face as he saw the Angel's mouth glow bright red. He gripped the controls tightly, waiting for the incoming attack...

What the--?...

But the Angel shot way past him, towards Unit Beta. Looking back in surprise, Felix watches as the other Evangelion dodges the shot with impressive agility, clenching his teeth in annoyance.

"Hey, I told you to look over here! You motherf*cking pile of--"

"Felix, try to keep it off me while I bring my defenses online. I'll continue bombardment after that!"

Looking up at the display of his fellow pilot, the redhead glares at him with immature demeanor before shooting his gaze back at the Angel bellow him.

"Alright, as you wish, your Majesty. A.T. Field, full power!"

As the words spurred bluntly and sarcastically from his mouth, the cushions of distorted light form around the Evangelion, octagonal shapes still sparkling and blinking around Unit Alpha and leaving a multicolored trail through its descent.

"Let's see if this at least gets me any attention from your ugly mug..." Bringing the rifle up to align with his eyes, he fires another barrage of bullets, all of them dissipating and hitting the burning sands of the desert.

"Tch... I'm still too far away for this to work... Argh! What a waste of time!"

[Spartan Altego]

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
Above the DLZ

The Angel's throat begins to glow again...but this time, it is accompanied by a second glow, and a dull roar, building up in the empty space between the rounded curves of the beast's head-crest, light and heat from the sun being sucked in and contained into twin brilliant white balls of power. The desert grows cold around the beasts as it vanishes, blinking out of sight. Panicked cries come from the conventional forces retreating on the ground, and the workers in the helicarrier above. Where had it gone? Where was it-

The Angel reappears with a crack of displaced air, jaw spread wide, and head tilted back. It fires, white energy jetting through the air towards the descending Evangelions.Unit Alpha and Beta are undeterred, however, and the energy washed over the invisible shields that surrounded their Units with all of effectiveness of an air-kiss. Untouched by the heat, they continue to descend, the ground rising up to meet them.

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

"The proper term is 'Your Highness,' technically," Nasr corrects with a very serious air. notes the incoming cross coming from the enemy's new position just a second too late to react, and he seems to be engulfed in glittering white fire...which does absolutely nothing, the hexagonal tiles of the Bunker Field shining white-blue as the attack harmlessly splashes over it. "That worked like it was supposed no, not that I particularly wantd to test it," he mutters.

Nasr drops the remaining distance to the ground next to one of the umbilical supply stations and releases his grip on the rifle long enough to connect the cable into Unit Beta. "The cord is sixty decameters long, still enough to get back to the high ground as it were," he considers. "But for now..."

Taking a moment to steady his breathing, Nasr patiently quells any tremor in his hands and eyes, precisely lining up the shot against the Angel as his mouth splits into a wide grin, pupils dilated. "Got you. Fire in the hole!" he cries, pulling the trigger, sending another rocket toward the enemy.

[jaybird]

A thin smile crosses his face as he watches Nasr send another rocket into the Angel, seemingly staggering it as it stops its advance and sways on the spot. "Good shooting, Unit Beta. Keep at it. Further weak points on its armour are being forwarded to your targeting computers." One of the four supply truck icons on his tactical display turns blue, indicating that it's successfully been connected to an Evangelion. "Boxcar Three, confirm connection on Unit Beta." A green light briefly flashes affirmative over its icon, and he nods, turning his attention to Unit Alpha.

It's too far to engage... With a scowl, he activates his comm channel through to Felix, before pausing. His entire body anchored in place, his eyes slowly track towards the screen, rapidly calculating vectors and response times in his mind. If Unit Alpha...risky, I could lose Boxcar One outright...no, it's dazed, doesn't matter, attack! "Boxcar One, move to Waypoint Echo at top speed. Prepare umbilical cable for rapid deployment." His fingers flash over the command console, designating the point that he estimates Unit Alpha will land at. "Deploy umbilical on my mark. Aim for Unit Alpha's umbilical jack using retro-thrusters. Unit Alpha, proceed towards Angel at top speed and engage in close combat. Prepare for umbilical attachment on my mark." He stares down at his viewscreen, as if he could physically will the supply vehicles to move faster. Second after second ticks by on the mission clock.

"Mark!"

[Fernosaur]

The flash of light from the angel's attack didn't phase him much, but he couldn't help putting his shield up as a reflex. In any case, the angel had already given his position away. It was too far away, and there was almost no time left on his battery. It would take too long to land, plug in and charge for the Angel. And it could regenerate before he could reach it.

The incessant ticking of the timer to his right was sound, the descending countdown lighting the entry plug in red light. It was definitely starting to become bothersome. Until...

"Unit Alpha, proceed towards Angel at top speed and engage in close combat. Prepare for umbilical attachment on my mark."

With a wide grin, the boy chuckles and tightens his grip on the controls. "Yes, sir!! Initiating A-Type thrusters, full speed ahead. Activating burners!

Large flames shooting out of the thrusters, Unit Alpha begins gliding forward as it mantained its descent. The propulsion made the cabin a bit shakey, the vibrations making it a hell of a rough ride, but it didn't make him flinch one bit, nor did it take away from his concentration. He was a little bit closer to the ground than seemed safe, as he could see the sand flying up from the sheer speed of the 80 meter tall monster darting through, but he had to take the chance if the Major was up for it. He took a glimpse of the supply truck and the Umbilical Cable being prepared. His eye squinting to focus better, he prepared to spin at the right time. It was a one-time chance. One mistake and he'd come crashing down and be left out of power.

"Mark!"

With a grunt, Felix pulls the right controller in the pod, one of the wings opening up to let the Evangelion spin round, giving its back to the ground and the supply truck. He could feel the centrifugal force pushing him to the side of the cabin, but he didn't let out.

Soon, the lights in the entry plug came on normally, all systems working nominal.

It had worked.

The umbilical cable was a perfect fit, and as the unit kept spiraling forward, the wire danced gracefully around it. The Evangelion finally normalized its trajectory and the whirling line came to a stop, getting tangled slightly around the Eva's body . The boy let out a loud cheer, throwing his fist up in the LCL-filled cockpit.

"Hooah!! Bullseye, sir! Now, excuse me while I go rip this sh*thead a new one! Full speed ahead! Unit Alpha, engaging target!"

Once more, the thrusters lit aflame in dancing reds and blues, the sparkling AT Flare of Unit Alpha shattering in shimmering pieces. In one swift move, he let go off the Pallet Rifle, leaving it behind to land somewhere in the desert, and the wing holster opened up to reveal the trusty Prog Knife. Snatching it from his shoulder, the boy takes notice of the weak spot indicators in the monitor, this a**hole was coming down.

With a loud growl, he charges directly towards the Angel, thrusting his arm with brute strength right at the monster's head.

[Spartan Altego]

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
The Battleground

Garzardiel screeches as Unit-Alpha's knife draws across its head, tearing through knotted black muscles and sending a spray of ichorous fluid into the air, staining the sands. The blade continues to dig in, and a flailing arm from the Angel forces the EVA to back off, but not before tearing out an eye from the monster's face, leading it impaled halfway down the shimmering blade. The Angel screams, the world seeming to darken with its agony, its fury.

Within the entry plug of his Unit, Felix quails, feeling some nebulous, twisting fear come crawling up his throat. This thing, this god, was beyond him. He wants to scream, to curl up in a ball and beg for the beast's forgiveness. His arms tremble, and he grits his teeth as he fights the urge to run screaming in the other direction, as far and as fast as Armstrong could take him. And all the while, Garzardiel continues to roar, the world shimmering and pulling in on itself.

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

"Tch," the pilot makes an irritable noise as Unit Alpha slams into the target, plunging a knife into its face. Nasr leans back in the chair, not remembering leaning forward as he had. "Castle, target appears to be stunned, but confirmed friendly in the blast area." He sighs. No telling if his Field is still strong enough to repel a rocket, or if he's Neutralizing. As much as I wouldn't care about shooting that foul-mouthed prig in the head, best play nice for now.

Unit Beta unceremoniously drops the massive gyrojet launcher to the desert sands, drawing a sniper rifle from the small of its back. The barrel telescopes out as Nasr raises the gun to his shoulder in a fluid motion, Unit Beta altering its stance unconsciously to account for the change in center of gravity. "Negative to LOS or LOE on target's head with current weapon. Switching to the Dimmer, I'll disable as much as I can before it can respond again."

Nasr zooms the sights in as far as they go, still barely catching sight of the Angel's grotesquely-carved visage between Unit Alpha's legs. Barely have LOS, but barely is enough in this case. If he gets shot it's his own damn fault.

Nasr takes a deep breath and at the end of his exhalation, at that moment where his muscles are loosest and most relaxed and least likely to offer resistance...he pulls the trigger. "Gotcha," he whispers with a satisfied affectation as the target's head erupts in gore. "Castle, confirm, target is---" Nasr breaks off and then frowns as the world seems to shift and change, the ubiquitous scorching sunlight seeming to diminish for the first time in decades on this blasted waste. "Wait...what's going on?!"

[Spartan Altego]

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
Venezuela, South America
The Battleground

Garzardiel continues to roar (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5LilcKJcbZI), angry red light emanating from the ragged cuts drawn in its flesh, and from the maw that it so brazenly opened to the skies. The flow of ichor from its body slowed, then ceased entirely, the wounds sealing themselves into bumpy, mottled black flesh. Its arms jut out, clawed wickedly at the tips, and it buries its hands in the sand. The giant trembles, than heaves itself upwards, revealing thick, exposed pillars of muscle that terminate in taloned feet, still dripping with gore and sand from where they had burst from the Angel's torso.

The orb of light floating between the Angel's horns goes dead black, a gaping wound in the space where a piece of the world once stood. The wind begins to pick up as the colossus howls to the heavens, warmth, life, and light all drawn into the unceasing, hungry void it had opened. The sun sputters in the sky above...and the void above the Angel splits itself into two, a second orb of death hanging above its head. The orb jets into the sky, settling itself in the sun's position.

The desert grows cold...and pitch black. Whispering shadows and figures looming ever out of direct sight grow and twist around the Evangelions, and around the retreated military forces over a mile away. Nasr feels his throat clench up as he watches the titan eat the light of the world, his stomach churning as the shadows whisper to him dark, terrible things. He groans, and he feels the weight of the Angel's A.T. Field meet the weight of Unit-Beta's Field. The EVA responds, its shield thickening and his link with it tightening as it attempts to defy the will of a god.

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
The Bridge

"S-sir..." A bridge tech reports. "All the damage done to the Angel has healed. And...it appears to be draining the light and heat from everything within a two-mile radius. The MAGI are in a deadlock as to what this means, but..."

"But it looks bad." Palmer finishes for him. Kira frowns, Lorena's face remaining impassive.

The boy nods. "Y...yes."

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

An app on the HUD beeps in distress, popping up a technical synch-graph, Unit Beta's core-synch wavelength in red and Nasr's neurological framework overlaid in green. Where the two sinusoidal curves were closely aligned moments before, they seem to separate and then grow even closer. The HUD, somehow satisfied, drops that display even as Nasr's pupils collapse to pinpricks, his heart racing and hands shaking as he watches all the light of the world, the sun ignited by the love of Allah, grow cold and dark and covered by this malicious

Fallen jinn, beasts of smoke which defy God and renounce the Prophet, his higher functions recall even as his reptile brain freezes, hoping to not be noticed if still enough.

Nasr takes shallow, gasping breaths as his A.T. Field is buffeted by the soul of some smoke demon, watching the great black beast devour the sky, and next to it, the glowing figure of Unit Alpha standing defiant.

[Fernosaur]

"Sh*t!!" Suddenly, the Angel's head explodes in a bloody mess, sending him reeling backwards and falling on the sands. Getting up fast, he angrily turns back at Beta's pilot, opening a visual communication channel with the Arab. "Hey, watch your fire, Majesty! You almost... got..."

"Wait...what's going on?!"

"...Me?"

Seeing his partner's terrorized expression, the redhead slowly turns around, noticing with nervousness how his surroundings grow darker and darker every passing second. What was once a waste of flesh and blood was now a towering beast made of darkness, the eclipse caused by the angel's power reflecting in his eye, up until the moment in which he could barely see a thing.

"Sir...I think it's angry..." whispers the boy as he turns his head side to side, looking for a light source of any kind. "Sh*t, I can't see a thing. Nasr, shoot him or something! Nasr!"

Seeing the lack of a response, Felix gives up on trying to call for his partner's help. Tch, he's useless! Dammit, unless I can light the way I will be a sitting duck. Think, stupid, think! His mind racing fast while Unit Alpha is visibly searching for the threat in its surroundings, the boy suddenly comes to a realisation. "That's it!

With a tight grip on the controls, he leans forward on his seat and glances at the darkness. "Sir, I'll try to light him up with my A.T. Field. Requesting air support units to guide my attacks if you can get a visual on the target." He sighs deeply. "Waiting on orders, sir."

Unit Alpha's A.T. Field soon starts glowing bright in the deep darkness, forming a beacon of red light along with the Evangelion's shimmering armor, as the howls of the angel echo through the desert.

[Spartan Altego]

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
Venezuela, South America
The Battleground

The light does more than attract the eyes of the military; the light of Unit-Alpha's soul shines like a flare in the eyes of the Angel, and it quickly responds in kind, regurgitating a wave flames upon the insect before it. The EVA remains steadfast, the flames licking at the edges of its A.T. Field, but not penetrating it. The Angel leans back, eyes sparking white. An invisible beam shoots forth, trailed by an incandescent white line of positron particles.

Felix reacts rapidly, willing the EVA's arm to raise the thick, multi-plated shield it held in front of it, deflecting the beam from the course it was riding to his head. The white line streaks off into the distance, detonating and lighting the area for all of a second in a cool glow. Felix raises his arms reflexively, the EVA following his movements to block the bright beacon. When they fall...the Angel is gone.

It had teleported again...right in front of Unit Beta.

[jaybird]

"Not good..." Every biometric indicator in Nasr's plugsuit fluctuates wildly, screaming alarms out to the medical officer monitoring them. Archer scowls, grinding his teeth as he watches one of his pilots hyperventilate into his LCL. The kid looks this close to losing it from shell sho-

Milo, Connor. Sergeant. Age 19. KIA May 2, 2010.

-ck. Clearing his throat, Archer opens a comm channel to Unit Beta. "Pilot of Unit Beta, re-engage. I say again, you are ordered to re-engage." A brief pause, as Nasr continues to hyperventilate. "Re-engage, damn you!" Archer howls into the comms, throwing what remains of his coffee against the carrier deck, a vein ticking in his temple as he watches half of his firepower just standing there, useless in the face of the revitalized threat. Deus ex goddamn Machina...how in God's Green Goddamn Geofront did it do that?

"You don't say, Unit Alpha? Think we could maybe draw a big frowny face on it to make it any more obvious? You've got flares coming down now, kill that thing until it's dead." A flick of a finger swaps his comms frequency. "Santa One, move to Point Foxtrot and deploy flares." New cries of alarm draw his attention, and he wheels, eyes going wide as he spots the Angel's icon somehow having moved adjacent to Unit Beta in the blink of an eye. Sonofa- "Unit Beta, now is the time to start shooting!" Slamming one fist on the console in frustration, Archer growls, looking for all the world like he wishes he could teleport to the battlefield and personally strangle the Angel.

[Fernosaur]

The impact of the angel's beam was strong. Very strong. If Armstrong's armor wasn't so reinforced his arm would have probably fallen off from that, and he could feel it. Felix was getting ready to counterattack when...

...It was gone. The motherf*cker was gone!

"Where...?!" The boy desperately starts searching for his foe, noticing then the change of position on the monitors.

It was right next to Beta.

"Sh*t. Hold on, Majesty, I'm coming!!" In a swift maneuver, Unit Alpha takes off from the ground using the thrusters from the A-type equipment, blindly heading towards the coordinates in the monitors. Thankfully, the angel and Unit Beta were suddenly lit up by the flares from the support units. But they were both TOO far away...

"Dammit, this a**hole is gonna have me sprinting around the desert like an idiot if he goes on like this. But, why didn't he just blink towards another GeoFront if it's bent on destroying it? His AT Field hasn't flickered either..."

The boy talks out loud as the vibrations from the flight shake him inside the entry plug. After well over 100 meters, he touches land, sending a massive cloud of sand flying through the darkness, and keeps on running forward, sprinting as fast as he could to reach the target, and his ally. "Sir! Requesting a MAGI analyisis on his teleportation patterns. My energy storage won't hold up for too long if I keep darting around like this."

He wouldn't be able to reach them... he needed to find a way to keep the angel's attention on him and have Beta's shots go unnoticed. He would need to be the biggest pain in the a** he could be. And, while he wasn't a very good shot, he could definitely be annoying with a gun. "Unit Beta, hand me a gun and retreat. I'll try to keep him pinned down and away from you once I get there!"

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

"Sir...I think it's angry..." Felix is visible through the comms window as he turns his head side to side, looking for a light source of any kind. "Sh*t, I can't see a thing. Nasr, shoot him or something! Nasr!"

{Arabic} "It's a jinn," Nasr murmurs, unable to take his eyes off of the massive monster softly lit by the glow from Unit Alpha's skin.

"Pilot of Unit Beta, re-engage. I say again, you are ordered to re-engage." A brief pause, as Nasr continues to hyperventilate. "Re-engage, damn you!"

{Arabic} "How do you shoot a jinn? It's smokeless fire, it's lies-made-flesh..."

He watches silently as the Angel sprays a gout of fire all over Unit Alpha, following up by lancing the other Eva in the face with a brutal beam of dazzling light. "Unit Beta, now is the time to start shooting!"

{Arabic} "Smokeless fire...what can a gun do against that?"

Then the great massive shadow cast by the hard glow of Unit Alpha's blood...evaporates into the greater darkness.

Nasr's eyes cast around wildly, looking for the foe, and it's only after several heartbeats that he feels its presence more than sees it, a monstrous pressure manifesting so near to him, his bunker-shaped A.T. Field seeming to creak and spark against the presence of Something Else so close to its infinite boundary.

There's a faint chopping noise in the air, the sound of a shattering object through the comm to the helicarrier, and the sound of propellant, and then the area surrounding Unit Beta lights up with a harsh, bloody light. Flares, Nasr thinks, but he's still too stunned by the proximity of the Angel, the effortless flex of its soul that delivered it so close to him...

There's a commotion over the comms, the IFF tracker for Unit Alpha is closing with the Angel at a rapid pace, flashing over the darkened sands.

And, finally, Nasr is able to see the transformed Angel close up. But something about it...

Nasr blinks several times, as if finally seeing through some layer of mud across his eyes. Then he snickers. {Arabic} "T-that's it? What a cute trick, but," Unit Beta's rifle, dangling at its side, snaps up to its shoulder, the barrel almost touching the Angel in the process, "But you're a sham! 'Jinn,' huh? Up close it's more like a rotting frog. Only in the dark was your little trick so scary, but in the light...!"

In a flash, Nasr leans forward and Unit Beta's massive finger pulls the trigger on the DMMR, not hesitating another moment. That being done, the A-Type thrusters kick up a mass of sand as Unit Beta flits to a new firing position, flying along Unit Alpha's course. In the process, one of Beta's wing pylons slides open and ejects its contents--a sleek pistol with few moving parts--towards Unit Alpha. "Keep calling me 'Majesty' and I'm going to start calling you 'Cyclops,' and be glad I brought plenty of spare guns. Try not to bugger up that maser pistol, huh? It's apparently a prototype."

[Fernosaur]

Letting out a sigh of relief from seeing his partner taking flight and going far from the angel, Felix keeps riding his Evangelion at full speed. A wide grin flashes across his face as Nasr leaves the gun behind. Cyclops, huh? He's going easy on me.

"Alright, alright! As you wish, your Majesty! Just keep the bullets coming!" the boy spurts back with a playful smile on his face. So long as he could keep the angel from shooting Unit Beta with that invisible particle beam, they had a good shot at bringing its core back to Seventh Heaven. But how do you battle for the target's attention when the other party keeps shooting it in the face? He had to think of something better to be the priority...

The Eva's legs were fast and long, but they weren't enough if he wanted to do something. He'd have to use the thrusters again to reach the angel quick and nag the sh*t out of it, so he put the Prog Knife into the holster and made a run for it.

With a blast, the wings of the Eva lift it once again across the sands, its A.T. Field sparkling red once more, and flying directly towards the now well-lit abomination to the front. As he closed in, Felix could finally take a careful look at the Angel. It was hideous, and enormous. VERY enormous, actually. Its fleshless legs were a disgusting sight, and just served to add to the eerieness of the creature, but if they were as harmed by the research done to the angel as he thought they were, they could be a good place to hit and shake it off balance.

"Alright." The boy breathes deeply, somewhat intimidated by the massive build of the creature getting closer and closer. "Unit Alpha, closing in and engaging target!"

A veil of sand gets thrown up in the air as the Evangelion clashes against the monster's legs, sinking its fingers into the live flesh, pitch black blood staining the arms of the cyborg. The thrusters were still pushing forward, the boy grunting and trying as hard as he could to make his dear friend tackle the creature down. But the controls were resisting, and he could feel the steel giant's arms giving in. He could feel a nervous, acid sensation growing in his stomach.

"No, no, no, no!! Come on. Come. On!" Desperate, the boy tries to push the right control with both hands, leaning forward, even bringing his head down between his arms, as if trying to channel all of his strength to the Eva. But it wasn't enough.

It wasn't enough. He was flunking. He was right under the angel and he was flunking. "We can...do it... buddy. God! Dammit!"

[Spartan Altego]

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
Venezuela, South America
The Battleground

The Angel snarls, looking down at the feeble attempts to topple it over with menacing crimson slits where eyes should be. It's mouth opens in a wide roar, ichorous fluid and curling wisps of smoke jetting forth. Felix prepares himself for another torrent of fire, taking two quick steps back to brace himself. The Angel's horns flaite white, glowing in the twisting, gibbering darkness that swamped the desert like a beacon. Ovals of crackling energy begin to orbit the horns, growing in size and brightness until half the desert for a mile was covered in searing, blindingly bright light.

And then a pulse shivered out, sending the hairs on all the skins of those in the area up, even as a far as within the Helicarrier a kilometer above. The orbs blasted forth, barreling towards Unit Alpha with deadly velocity. The pulse accompanied with it a burst of electricity through the EVA's systems, Felix's eyes widening as his power counter went down a full minute, and his EVA's armor boiled away from within. Even so, it managed to duck the first of the four orbs, but the remaining trio struck home.

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

The other pilot's exasperated exclamations turned to pained cries through the comm, and Unit Beta's HUD gamma tones far down to protect the pilot's eyes from the Angel's pulsing lights. "More smokeless fire," he murmurs to himself, but the DMMR is still at his shoulder. His breathing is steady despite seeing the other Eva wither under a torrent of arcing electricity. I know what you're feeling, he thinks, Just hold out a little longer. Slow and steady. If I rush this...

Nasr takes a moment, looks at his right hand shaking slightly on the control wand, and just this little bit gets him even angrier. His hand steadies and Nasr moves the crosshairs slightly from the center of the Angel's 'head' right onto one of its glowing eyes. "Five fingers in your eye!" he growls, pulling the trigger again.

[jaybird]

"Keep at it, Unit Beta, you're hurting the thing. Continuing to stream targeting data to your HUD." Unit Alpha's status indicator on his console flashes warnings at him, and Archer grunts. That attack looked worse than it is. Doesn't look like Felix is really hurting...and Unit Alpha is more or less intact. The power drain it inflicted is worrying, though...

"Unit Alpha, continue to press the attack. You just took its hardest hit so far on the chin and it barely scratched your Evangelion. If that's all it's got, you've got nothing to worry about. I saw the power drain from up here, we're daisy-chaining one of the unused power supply trucks up to the one you're currently connected on. One more minute to get me that core if you want fancy dinners for a week." Reminding Felix of the consequences at stake, Archer flicks his comm channel over. "Boxcar Two, link up with Boxcar One and supply them with power. We're daisy-chaining you to Unit Alpha."

[Fernosaur]

His efforts of pushing the Angel back futile, the young boy turns his head upwards, with dread shooting from his eye. He's gonna spit fire again...? the boy thinks with innocence.

Suddenly, bright lights start flooding the plug, going from complete darkness to almost pure white in a matter of seconds, the air vibrating around Unit Alpha and producing an overwhelming, almost metallic sound from the atoms concentrating into pure energy. "Sh*t!!" His heart racing faster, the young boy clenches his teeth with a scared expression on his face. Two steps back was the only thing he could think of, suddenly feeling a powerful streak of energy flowing and grazing his face. His instinctive reaction was to put his shielded arm up, and he could feel the blow of the energy spheres, then another to the torso.

"Ow!" He grunts and squeezes his eyes as a slight but sharp burning sensation takes ahold of his chest.

Then it was gone.

He opens his eye with strange curiosity, only feeling a numbed pain in the place his hand was unadvertently gripping. "HAH! Was that really it?! So much for such a sh*tty attack, you pansy!"

The boy laughs at the colossus, having recovered his confidence in himself and his Evangelion, as a sudden streak of bullets impacts directly into the angel's eyes, goring them and causing a gigantic stream of black blood to rain over Unit Alpha, steam rising from the Eva's armor at its contact. A bone-chilling wail of pain comes from the monster's mouth, sending shivers through the crew's spines, and forcing Felix to cover his ears with an audible snarl.

"One more minute to get me that core if you want fancy dinners for a week."

A smile returns to his face in that very moment. They were doing it. The were actually doing it! They were felling a supposed GOD that could bend reality in a whim, that could stain the skies pitch black and deprive them from their perpetual sunshine.

He was finally going to do what he was born to do. His superior's words sending a shiver through his body, excitement starts taking over the redhead, nearly forgetting his rank in the operation.

"Heh... you're on! Uh... I-I mean, YES SIR!"

The wing holster opens up and he draws the Prog Knife on his right hand once more. Sorry, Majesty, I guess I'll save your toys for the next time...

He gives a stern look to the writhing monster in front of him, squinting his eye in amused disdain. "This one goes for scratching the paint on my shield, you a**hole.

With a jump, Alpha starts climbing the angel's face, even as the monster convulsed in agony. He grips tightly at the live flesh, feeling the intense heat of the creature's muscles, and finally leading the knife right into the Angel's skull, feeling a crack that was followed by blood shooting out at high pressure.

But it wasn't dying yet. The bastard wasn't dying! He looks back at Unit Beta, taking a glimpse of the reflection in the rifle's barrel. Tch, like hell am I letting you get the kill...

Trying harder and faster to cleave the angel's bones, the boy keeps butchering its head in an attempt to finally bring it down, its remaining eye popping out in black liquid. But just the knife wasn't enough... "Drop dead already!!"

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

Keeping his eyes on the bloodied Angel, Nasr talks to the open comm window to the carrier. "Castle, target's gone silent--for now at least. I'm going to keep shooting but how do you want us to contain the core if it can just jump away anytime it wants, body or no?"

Before the response comes through, Nasr puts another bullet in the Angel's head. "Go down, damn you," he mutters. "Reloading!"

[jaybird]

Archer taps at his console furiously, eyes dancing over estimates, models, and at points, raw guesswork. Finally, the MAGI come to a consensus, and he reads over Technical branch's recommendation with growing disbelief. You've got to be kidding...this is what they're suggesting we do? Shaking his head, he sets up the equations for himself, working through what could only vaguely be called math for a few seconds. I mean...I suppose there's no reason why it shouldn't work...and that's a glowing recommendation if I've ever heard one.

"Unit Alpha, Unit Bravo, I'm patching in NERV Technical to you, they've got an idea as to how you two can keep that thing contained.

"Is this thing on? Right, okay. So, the Anti-AT field is described as a "reversed AT field". Now, if we can get two Evangelions together, invert the polarity of your Barriers, then have you synchronize frequencies in such a way that you get "stutter" in the resulting field, it'll constantly alter the surrounding A.T. Field conditions and be sufficient to continuously disperse the Field that the Core generates natively. By dispersing it periodically, we can prevent a field buildup that is sufficient to regenerate the Angel, such as the incident at Golgotha. Normally, even with two pilots, without a specialist in A.T. Field manipulation you wouldn't be able to generate the combination of precision and strength needed. However, because your units will be constantly powered by an extremely powerful reactor, we'll be able to pump enough power into them for the pilots to focus on control enough to generate this interference pattern in a small area. Basically, they'd be sending false signals to the Core using their own A.T. Field and interfering with its regeneration. Jerking it around, so to speak. On top of that, the inverted A.T. Field will effectively cancel out the A.T. Field that the Angelic Core generates, rendering it inert. Theoretically."

"And that's about as reassuring to me as it should sound to you. However, I've run the numbers myself, and I don't think there's a better way to do this. Just don't generate a singularity and eat my desert while you're at it."

[Fernosaur]

The angel was indeed silent. Even more so after the bullets gave the final strike. Somewhat disappointed, Felix sighs and takes the knife out of the bloody mess that was the creature's head, putting it back in the holster.

"Wouldn't deploying an inverse AT Field be dangerous to the technical staff, though? Leaving aside the risk of a distortion, -cause there won't be one-, raising our AT Fields in that way could harm unprotected personel, no? Even the carrier's equipment could be affected if there's any irregularity, A.T. induced or otherwise."

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

"Hey Cyclops, it's silent right now, but we don't know for how long, and it's still completely in one piece. Hack that head off if you have to, decapitation should buy some more time for us to do whosit-whatever with our A.T. Fields!" Nasr says loudly over the comm, his Eva moving with a practiced fluidity in ejecting the empty magazine and loading a new one. "Reloading!"

[Fernosaur]

"Right, right. Worry about butchering the thing first, transportation comes later, right?" Once more, the knife comes out of Alpha's shoulder, and the boy gets on the job, leading the shining knife into the Angel's nape.

"Just... stay still, okay? It can't possibly hurt more than it already has. Plus, you kinda earned this, you know? What with trying to blow us up and all." Pressing the edge of the blade into something hard, he pushes forward, making a disgusted frown as a stream of blood shoots upwards. "Whoa! Well, I'll give you that: I wouldn't like to go out like that."

Although...having been tested on and reduced to this state...I wonder if we were the ones who deserved to be blown up.

As he continues to dismember the creature, a sympathetic, somewhat nostalgic smile forms on the boy's face. The colossal head falls to the ground, sending tremors throughout the desert.

I'll be looking forward to seeing your real form when you get better one day.

A chuckle comes out of him unadvertently. Was he really thinking that? Why would anyone in their right mind be empathizing with this abomination? The kind of creature that had reduced humanity and the world itself to a crumbling mess. The kind of creature that could literally wipe out a whole city in the blink of an eye. And that wouldn't even hesitate to do so, evidently. Yet, there was something strange gushing inside of him. Probably something that only he, and perhaps the monster lying silent on the sand, could understand. The thought made him sigh deeply, and he could feel the hair in the back of his head stand as a shiver ran down his spine.

But there was no time for that. "Hey, Majesty. Want to come give me a hand over here? Maybe we should make away with its arms too, just to make sure he won't try anything funny up there."

[jaybird]

"We're clearing a hanger out for the two of you right now. Just remember, the Angel regenerating inside the helicarrier is going to do a lot more damage than either of you could do with your A.T. Fields short of full-on blowing the entire place up."

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

Nasr fires off another round at the Angel's head even as Unit Alpha is still carving at it. It's somewhat satisfying to see the other Eva just get drenched in blood, with all the smack-talk coming out of the other pilot's mouth. "Yeah, okay. Incoming." Nasr flares Beta's thrusters, swooping into melee range. He collects his discarded weapons, including the pistol, and then draws the prog knife, ready to begin the process of butchering the Angel, but pauses a moment. "Hey Castle, pretty sure we silenced it in time for that free week of dinner, don't you think?" Nasr grins through the video link.

[jaybird]

Archer glances at his mission clock, reading 00:04:49:41. "Cutting it real close, kids, another ten seconds and you'd have lost that one. Still, not a bad first impression. Bring Big Ugly back aboard, your techs are breaking out the champagne already." He turns and nods at Captain Palmer. "Compliments to your crew, Captain. I'll be collecting my pilots for a debrief." Gesturing for Kira and Lorena to follow, he steps out of the bridge, heading to the Evangelion hangers to supervise re-loading the giant war machines.

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

With the Angel properly subdued and excess biomass hacked off, Nasr holsters his weapons covered in Angelic gore and takes a deep breath. "Ready to try this anti-A.T. thing?" he asks. "All right. I...I think I might have tried it before. Under orders of course. And it's weird, like turning your skin inside out. Kind of. Just...well, I'm sure you'll get it," he finishes. "Anyway, I'm going to start before the core tries to jump away again."

It's a terribly uncomfortable and mentally-fatiguing process, as Nasr maintains the projected outward Field but starts flipping the 'inside' and 'outside' sections of the Field, piece by piece, as if slowly pushing the Field along a Möbius strip. He can feel his breath grow hasty and the LCL seems cold. But that's ridiculous, it's body temperature. This is all just a response to that time, it's not really happening.

Yet perception certainly feels like reality. It starts as an aching cramp in his guts, and proceeds to slightly blurry vision. Nasr rubs at his eyes with the palms of his hands, trying to maintain focus, though it really feels like taking all of his innermost thoughts and feelings and hanging them in the air around himself for the world to see and judge. Still, when the last bit feels like it clicks into place, the discomfort subsides, though not entirely.

"I think I have it on my end," Nasr says slowly, pressing his spine into the plug's chair and feeling the vertebrae pop. The noise is strange and all-encompassing in the fluid surrounding him, like the clicking of some great underwater beast. Still, Nasr's muscles seem to ache all over, his skin feels tight, his eyes feel swollen, and to top things off the other kid still isn't done inverting his own polarity. "Hurry up, will you? I don't want to have to chase the core down on internal battery power after all this." The fingers of his right hand unconsciously play with the hamsa medallion, rubbing along its smooth, jeweled surface.

[Fernosaur]

As Nasr begins inverting his A.T. Field, Felix just stares at the image of his fellow pilot in the monitor. The heat of the battle having gone, he was starting to feel a strange sensation of nostalgia, and looking at Nasr, for some reason, just made that feeling broader.

"Okay, okay, let's just wrap this up..."

Somewhat hesitant, he closes his eye, trying to focus on the feeling. Truthfully, he had never tried reversing his A.T. Field, so he just hoped it would work well. He always thought of it as a mirror in which, strangely enough, he could see himself. His piloting, his skill, his strength, all of them covering his fears, his anxiety, and his desires in a veil of security, and a big panel filled with nothing but static. That was always how piloting Unit Alpha felt.

He tried to focus on each and every aspect of the wall of mirrors, and made an effort to turn them all inside out. A sudden flow of emptiness and dread reached at him and pressed his chest, feeling as if he was falling into a pit in which he knew no one was waiting for him.

Loneliness.

It was loneliness. And anger. So much anger.

He didn't notice as his hands started squeezing the controls, the familiar need to be praised by his peers as a hero and a great pilot suddenly fleeting away and changing for a blind rage. A blind rage fueled by impotency.

As the thin walls of mirror turned around one by one, his breathing accelerated, his heartbeat intensified, and at the peak of his fury, he could finally see the image of a young boy sobbing alone in a hospital room, a white eye-patch on his eye. All. Alone.

Then it was gone.

With a loud gasp, Felix opens his eye, taking a look at the desert around him, and the comparatively short figure of Unit Beta standing to the other side of the angel's silent body.

Still panting, the boy lets out a deep sigh, trying to regain composure from that disturbing experience.

"Y-yeah, sorry. I think I got it too...Let's just take it back to the carrier, your..."

The word 'Majesty' just didn't come out.

"Erm...I mean, Nasr".

[Spartan Altego]

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
The Angel Hex Cage
[2:35PM]

The EVAs stand side-by-side in the black, cavernous expanses of the hex room, forms lit by the faint magenta glow of the seals carved into the walls, and of the blood running through Unit Alpha's veins. They are unbound, and fully active; umbilical cables connected into their ports, and running through the walls of the room to the power stations of the carrier itself. The room seems hazy and unfocused to those within and outside, as if a heat wave was passing through, blurring visages and melting colors into smears.

The truth was, the Anti-A.T. Field pulses being generated by the EVAs and Garzardiel's impotent, seething rage were playing merry hell with the laws of thermodynamics, and there was, in fact, a heat increase of several hundred degrees in the room. The core, round, dark crimson, lays shackled to the room's center on a pedestal that glows blue with sigils and markings of its own. Neither pilot has recognized them, yet, but Major Archer, who is hidden behind twenty meters of electrified titanium walls, knows them to be Enochian symbols. The language of Angels. And, according to the Golgotha techs, they were useful in suppressing spontaneous regeneration or A.T. Field usage from Angels...at least, in some manner. To say their faith had been shaken by its escape would be an understatement.

Within their entry plugs, Nasr and Felix are tense, but their nerves are soothed by the warm embrace of the LCL, and the immobile state of the Core within arms reach of them. Their faces are only occasionally marred by frowns as their sense of self is eroded by the exertion of producing the Ego eroding field that kept the Angel at bay.

------------------------------

The view-screen of the Cage cuts out, replacing by a feed of Seventh Heaven's Commander, Saya. "The Third Angel's more permanent quarters are finishing construction now," She begins without preamble. "By the time you return, it will be ready for the subject's insertion. Well done, Major, reports have shown the core received less than a scratch."

Kira is quiet, as is Lorena, and the two turn their backs on the Commander and Major, allowing them to converse without interference. Says continues. "Furthermore, you managed to do so with minimal loss of life, equipment, and resources. Funding is being wired to your pool to direct as you wish."

[jaybird]

Archer tilts his head back slightly and lets a satisfied smirk play across his lips. Hands tucked in his pockets, he cuts a perfect picture of confidence, relaxation, and insolence. "You wanted the best, Commander, and you got him." Multiple proposed projects pop up on the screen in front of him, and he browses through the budget, stopping at a few entries to mark them down for funding priority. "That Angel's armor was rock solid. If we're going to stick with our current tactics, Felix needs some better protection. Getting beaten to hell until the Angel dies worked today, but against something with a better offensive, he's going to get wrecked. I want the MAGI focused on analyzing how to build Unit Alpha better armor. We've still got pieces of that thing everywhere, use those as a starting point."

He continues flipping through the proposals. "Lorentz Rail System Improvements, yes. Rapid deployment is key if something gets into The Pit. Repair Bay Expansion, yes. If Felix keeps fighting like he fought today..." His sentence trails off and he shakes his head. "We've already got Recessive Buildings, good. Nasr seems to like his explosions. Ablative Umbilical Cables, yes. They won't stand up to any sort of blast attack like the ones we say today as is." Finished with assigning his budget for now, he looks up at Saya. "You've already got my assessment on the kids. What's your take on today?" He pauses for a moment, before sighing in exasperation and turning to address the Section Two agents. "Also, I'm going to need a guide on restaurants in The Pit. I honestly didn't expect the fight to be over that fast." Those kids sure are something.

[Spartan Altego]

Archer

"The children performed admirably," Says replies curtly, voice devoid of any true sincerity. That was fine; she was usually cold, from Archer's experience. "Although their performance against an opponent incapable of actually harming them is not as telling as you may hope. Especially against a crippled one, at that." Her tone isn't quite dismissive. "Your selections have been noted, and preparations will begin shortly. In the meantime, Major, you may enjoy your afternoon. By night, you will arrive."

The screen cuts out, and Kira gives a light sigh. "Ah, always an icy one, that Commander. Still, she's a peach compared to her sister, from what I hear." Kira actually shivers a bit at that sentiment, something Archer had never seen him do before.

Lorena gives a short nod, in agreement. "She is."

Kira gives a quick, curious glance at Lorena, clearly interested, but returns his gaze to Archer. "Well, I know a few fast food restaurants we could take them, but beyond that, I'm rather short on expertise. That said, South American cuisine is to die for." He pauses. "Perhaps a poor choice of words, considering our profession."

[Fernosaur]

It was dark. Real dark. It almost felt lonely in there, and the swaying feeling of discomfort wouldn't let go. The adrenaline from the battle having completely vanished, Felix was starting to feel anxious, mainly because he knew what was coming.

Soon as they were in Seventh Heaven, they were gonna pull him out. Of course, they had to, he couldn't live in there forever, even though he wished he could. And these moments were always the hardest. He could take hours upon hours of training on simulators, he could take shock inducers to accustom his body to massive amounts of pain, he could take additional nerve connections for shady experimental technology. All of that was a walk in the park, but the minutes right before unboarding the Evangelion... Man, those were the real deal. They were filled with so much nostalgia and melancholy that he couldn't stop sighing. They made him remember, and that's something he didn't like to do.

Most of the time at least. Fortunately for him, more recent memories paid a visit to his mind, memories that were much more welcome than the ones he constantly tried to avoid.


The very first day of the year started with a downpour, not that it was something new in London, but at least he didn't really have to be in the midddle of the rain during New Year's. This time it was special, though, real special. He had finally gotten an official call to action. He was finally fighting, giving it all for Nerv!

He wished his master was there, though. He had woke him up in the middle of the night, and told him to dress up, cause he was finally jumping in. And then he pretty much disappeared.

A woman had escorted him on his way from the base to the airport, and although she had been real polite and official, she didn't seem the kind that talked too much. It's okay, he remembers thinking, we'll have time to soften her up later. Talking to this woman was the least of his concerns at that moment, though. As they both standed under the roof of the boarding port, avoiding the rainy weather, he kept eyeing his surroundings, looking for a sign of the man that had raised him when he was alone in the world.

But he wasn't there.

The small sigh of disappointment coming from the boy's mouth was muffled by the sound of the water hitting the concrete. Then, the rushing sound of superheated air could be heard, announcing the arrival of the helicarrier from among the clouds. The ship landed right in front of him, and he could feel his nervousness increasing more and more. He was about to go into real combat, and while he was excited for it, the current moment made him so, so very anxious.

The gate of the ship opened, a small set of stairs coming down from the metallic access pod, and his escort finally ordered him to follow. In silence, the boy nods, walking behind the woman, who had opened a black umbrella to shield both of them from the rain. His head hanged low between his shoulders, as a feeling of solitude started gripping his chest. He hadn't had time to say goodbye to the tech crew, to the bridge crew, not even the janitorial staff, and, even though right now he was surrounded by people, even escorted by one, he felt the weight of loneliness heavy on his shoulders.

Once in front of the ship's door, he stops hesistantly, and without actually thinking of the reason why, he takes one last look back at the city he had called home for so long.

And there he was.

The familiar figure of a big man, wrinkles and scars across his face, water pouring down from his thick eyebrows and running through his ungroomed beard, as he standed impassive in the rain, looking at the boy with a severe air to his eyes. Yet, a wide smile formed on Felix's lips.

"You better beat the bloody sh*t out of that thing, boy. Or I'll beat the incompetence out of you."

Stern, the man raises one fist up to chest height, as a sign of victory. The boy answers with a big nod, taking one step towards the ship without taking his eye away from his master, and finally walks in, the anxiety all gone, heading towards his new life.



Inside the entry plug, and surrounded by the eerie, dim magenta lights of the seals, a tender smile appears on his face. His eyes had been closed for a while, and he wasn't sure how much time had gone by, but, for some reason, the liveliness of that memory helped him calm down a bit. He took one last look at Nasr through the comm. The other boy had his eyes closed as well, and a stern expression on his face.

Did I do it right, master?

Recollections of the fight come to his head once more. In the end, had he really beaten the bloody sh*t out of the angel? He impaled it a couple of times, yeah, and he took care of keeping the angel's attention from Unit Beta. But, in the end, he hadn't really done anything by himself. So much wasted amo, so much wasted power from the thrusters. Was he really a hero after not doing anything to the angel? He could only hit it once it was already down, how heroic was that? He couldn't shoot like Nasr, of course not, not without his depth perception issues. In the end, was the accident that made him a failure in the eyes of his father going to stain his future even further? The only thing he could do is just be a living shield, he had the bigger Eva for that too. The only way he could be a hero was to expend himself...

Maybe dying for Nerv was the only hope he had.

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr

Unit Beta's pilot sits in the plug quietly, lips moving slightly as he recites a mantra. Clamped securely in the carrier's bay, Nasr once again ponders the strangeness of natural Earth gravity. It just felt more right with the A-type equipment, but I had better adapt to this nonsense quickly, he thinks.

The past few days had been a blur: the initial excitement of deployment orders, the final tests on his Eva and outfitting her in the standard armor packaging, loading onto the re-entry craft, the furious fiery plunge back down the well to the planet bifurcated by light and heat.

His fingers idly play with the medallion around his neck, made of jewels birthed from this planet, given to him on this planet such a long time ago.

That 'Angel,' kept weak and cut up, and still, without both of us being able to generate A.T. bunkers, how much worse might it have been? Certainly for Alpha. A cold feeling enters Nasr's guts as he recalls being up-close with the transformed Angel, feeling it more than seeing it, as it blot out the sky above him.

Nasr's stomach growls unexpectedly and he sighs, opening his eyes to look through the Eva's at their monstrous captive. His eyes turn to the sigils on the pedestal holding the core in place; his mind tries to place them somehow. The HUD reports a massive temperature spike outside and he feels the heat through Unit Beta's skin; though hot, it's more comparable to standing out in the desert under an open sky for the Eva, as opposed to being inside a pre-heated convection oven.

The video feed to Unit Alpha's entry plug is ongoing, which makes Nasr feel like there is at least one other person on the planet, even if that person is that strange boy wearing an eyepatch. Better than nothing. He shudders at the notion of being alone in this room with the core and no other human contact, just him and the unrighteous alien thing that still radiates menace despite its utter lack of flesh.

Nasr's stomach rumbles again, and he checks the time: plenty remains before his next prayer, but hopefully not much before he can eat something. Though that requires ejecting the plug and...ugh. His skin crawls at the thought of leaving the Eva, the one place he has true power unfettered by adults or politics. It's never pleasant, and has occasionally been violent, and being this hungry surely won't help his mood when the plug slides free from its connections. Nasr crosses his arms and tries not to think about it, concerned his anxiety will bleed through into the Eva and cause some unpleasant event to occur again. He breathes slowly, reciting his mantras and thinking about food.

[Spartan Altego]

Felix/Nasr

GRMM (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Izmajs7zGr4)

The temperature in the room continues to remain uncomfortably hot, the warmth beginning to seep even into the entry plugs housed so deep into the spines of the Evangelions. Nasr is beginning to find it difficult to concentrate on keeping his Field inverted, much less reciting his mantras. Beside his EVA, Felix is having troubles of his own, much similar to his. They were told that Major Archer would inform them when they had arrived on base, and that they were to keep their fields up and inverted until then...but that had been a while ago. And, as children were wont to do, they began to find themselves rather...stir-crazy. Bored, even.

Nasr frowns as he continues to murmur prayers, feeling more and more like he's in a soup. What's worse is he can feel himself sweating, the LCL system's recycling and cooling system proving woefully inadequate to keeping him cool. Finally his eyes snap open with irritation and he forcibly jams a button on one of the control wands. "Bridge, what's the ETA back to base? It's getting really hot, even in the plugs." He glances over at Felix, trying to register the other boy's reaction as well.

"Approximately two hours and eighteen minutes," A female voice replies curtly. "You'll be informed when we've arrived."

Nasr sighs, closing that connection. "Yeah, easy for you to say, you're up in air conditioning, UN standard sixty-five-degrees Fahrenheit," he grumbles.

Felix takes a look at Nasr through the comm. Oh boy, the guy sure looked in a bad mood. He was right, though, it was getting uncomfortable, although, for some reason, he didn't actually feel hot. He knew it was hot, it just didn't have any visible effect on him. His Highness sure is pushy it seems. He smiles a bit ironically, then takes another look at the pilot. Well, after all, they were gonna be fighting together from now on, right? Why not?

"Hey... you were real good out there, man. You're, um... a pretty great shot".

"Oh, uh, thanks. You…really took a beating."

Felix seems surprised at the response, then pouts childishly. "Naaah, not really. I mean, we can take much, much more than that." He runs his palm over the control bar with affection, then takes a look at the sealed core in the middle of the room. "Plus, this guy over here wasn't all that cool. He was all tricks."

The core seems to shiver with wrath, as if it could hear his words. The boy jumps at the feeling the core gives out, getting a shiver down his spine and a funny-looking startled expression to his face. He then grunts at the core, sticking his tongue out.

"Yeah, I noticed. It would have been a lot more dangerous if we hadn't both been able to bunker our Fields."

Nasr and Felix's Units seem to sense the oppressive aura the red core was emitting, as both pilots can feel some surge of comforting warmth rise from within the Units, a heat that wasn't. In its passing, Nasr feels cooler, and Felix feels more at ease.

"Whew, maybe the LCL pump went into overdrive or something, I feel like it's getting cooler."

Felix sighs pleasantly and just leans back on the entry plug's seat. "Yeah. Maybe the tech crew heard you out." He takes both hands behind his head, crossing one leg over the other and swinging it back and forth, trying to think of something to talk about.

"So... where did they pick you up?"

"I don't understand what you mean."

"Yeah, where were you based before they called you in for the mission? I had been training in London for a while. Were you in one of the GeoFronts?"

"Umm…not exactly, though you might generously call it a GeoFront."

He takes a deep breath. This is going to be weird, he thinks. "My initial training after gaining asylum from NERV was conducted on UNSS Archimedes. Once Unit Beta moved past the conceptual stage and the E-Type armor had been properly tested, we were transferred to Von Braun City on the moon for initial gravity trials."

"You're kidding. You lived in the Moon?! That's wicked!!" The boy smiles wide, leaning forward on his seat with excitement. "What's it like up there? Do you float around in zero gravity all day? I spent like a year nagging my master so that we could go there to get some training, but he just told me off."

"On, mostly, not in, I suppose," he muses. "Oh no, the moon has its own gravity, but it's a lot…lighter than here. Archimedes generates a gravity field to a degree but that's mostly contained for the Eva testing grounds. The other members of Newt…I mean, the Program…we mostly lived in zero-G to condition us to fighting in any terrain, but they made sure our bones didn't get brittle or anything like that. It was…an experience," he admits. "And being able to look down at the Earth every day, at the place I was born, it really put in perspective what I was fighting for." And what I'm going to reclaim, and who I have to kill to do it, he adds mentally.

"I came down-well in Russia, took a heavy convoy to Spain, and was retrieved there, we did an in-flight transfer of the Eva, I assume you were already on board? Where did they get you from?"

"Well! Agent Duwait picked me up in, you know, London, heh." He pauses in uncomfortable silence. "Yeah, that's not very exciting, I know. But, hey! If we ever come down to London, I can show you around. It's one of the few cities that is inhabitable in the world, and it's -not- underground, so you can actually see the sky!"

"Is it dark all the time there? Or is it on the light side? Sorry, it's hard to keep track of where we are, not looking down at things."

"Well, it's neither dark, nor light. The city got stuck in a perpetual dawn, so the sky's pink and purple all the time." He smiles at Nasr through the com. "You know, once the missions are over, I'll ask the Major if we can go to London, you really have to see the sky from there. But in exchange, you have to show me around on the Moon one day! Deal?"

"Ha, deal," Nasr offers a slight smile. "You have to be the one to ask the UN for two Eva-capable shuttles though!"

He grins. I can finally see a smile on that face!

"Pff. Piece of cake, man. Plus, how hard could it possibly be to lift a 60 mt high, fully armored cyborg to the moon?"

Nasr shrugs. "I never was involved in getting anything up there, just getting her back down." He's got some clear snark in his voice.

"Hehe, well, I better come up with something good, then."

The redhead leans back once more, taking a lazy and relaxed posture. "Hey, how long have you been piloting? You seem like a bit of a veteran to me."

"I've been involved with Eva Project for a long time, since before I left Earth. Since I was a kid, I guess, but I didn't really know what it meant until I was in space. You?"

"Well... same here, I guess. My father and I knew I was a candidate for the project since I was real small, but I got around to actually being inside Armstrong after they took me to London."

He stays silent for a while.

"Do you... think we're the only ones?"

"Be pretty stupid for the UN to put all their hopes on two people. If they're smart they'll have reserves."

"Yeah... I guess you're right." He takes his eye off the comm for a couple seconds, his eyes becoming harder. "Guess we could drop dead at any time, huh?"

"Don't be so dramatic! We're not going to just drop dead! If we go out, it'll be choking one of those wannabe angels!"

Felix smiles at the other pilot. That did seem confident enough.

"Yeah...you're right."

"Plus, it's not like I'll let them get you. You think I'm just going to stand around while one of those things eats you or whatever? Dream on, kid! As far as I'm concerned, I'm the record-holder and I have a reputation to maintain."

"HMM. Alright, we'll see how the next fight ends, Mr. Record-Holder. Just, don't get too attached to that title, you're gonna miss it soon." He grins at his fellow pilot.

"Haha, well, I wish you good luck and we'll see," Nasr touches his medallion at the mention of 'missing it.'

Felix seems surprised at the reply. He didn't really see such a friendly choice of words coming his way. "You know, after today's fight? I think we don't even need luck. Let's just stick to what we did today. You shoot the crap out of their faces, and I'll hold them in place for you."

"I don't think it will be as easy as it was today. This one had been whittled down a lot. In the future, we won't have that advantage."

"Hey, I didn't say it would be easy! I just... you know..."

His eye strays away from the comm link.

"I think we can make a pretty good team. If we keep that up, the ones coming won't stand a chance."

And the UN won't have to replace you, at least...

"Yeah just don't get cocky. Not all of them are going to throw up fireballs that we just bounce right back."

"Right, right." He smiles and leans back again.

The adrenaline of the battle gone, and the calmer, more social moment had started to drive away the hot-headed, blind confidence Armstrong used to provide in his head, and suddenly, a worrying thought crossed his mind.

"Um... hey. Did you, uh... get angry because I called you 'Majesty'?"

"Well, it's not the proper term, is all. I'm a prince, not a king."

Felix is just left with a completely blank stare. "Ah..." he replies in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean? You heard my name, right? 'Al Saud.' You know what that means right? I mean. you took world history class didn't you?"

Felix stays in silence for about ten seconds, completely confused by what the other boy actually meant, before it finally hit him. A loud gasp is clearly audible inside Unit Beta's entry plug.

"Oh my GOD, you're a PRINCE!" he exclaims, leaning way forward towards the comm link. "T-that's... I... Wow. Wow! I didn't think you were... Wow." He stays in silence for a couple seconds, completely dumbfounded. "Well, that's wicked, I guess. Sorry, man, it didn't actually hit me until now."

Nasr just sighs when the other boy gets all excited. "Yeah, it's alright," is his response. "Not that the Saudi state is in any…heh…state to receive me right now. I mean…" H breaks off, hands idly touching his necklace. "I mean I'm here now, not there," he simply adds.

Felix stares at him for a moment. He looked so... nostalgic. "Do you want to go back?" He asks shyly, not really sure of what to say.

"Of course I do! I don't…I don't even know how much of the royal family is still alive, after Impact and after all the crazy oil crises going on. I want to go back and fix my country and…" he bites his tongue as the last thoughts come to mind. "It's my birthright, at any rate…depending on who's still around that is."

"What about you, what do you want to do? Or where do you want to go?"

With a mix of sympathy and admiration, Felix watches Nasr, realizing how... big the other pilot was, how important. And how small he was in comparison. "Well, I, uh..." He stays in silence for a moment, lowering his head, and finally letting out a big sigh.

"I don't really have anything else, I guess. My... my father passed away a while ago, and I never met my mom. You could say that Nerv is my life now. I just want to be a good soldier and keep on protecting the world, I guess..." He looks at Nasr and shoots out a very slight smile.

"It's…not a bad goal, but tell you what, how about I hire you as a security consultant?" the Arabic boy grins back. "What's the worst that can happen?"

Visibly surprised by the offer, Felix stutters for a couple seconds, finally smiling wide. "Heh, that would be wicked, Your Highness."

"Hey, but I have to earn that title! I can be your bodyguard until we get out of here, huh? Not gonna' lie..." he leans closer to the com and puts a hand to his mouth, as if sharing a secret. "I don't think that Agent likes us that much, so you could always use an extra someone to look out for ya."

"Yeah, don't think it's just open for grabs forever because you guarded me in one fight…." he breaks off. "Oh, you think so? Hmm…maybe. Guess we'll see, huh?"

"Well, I don't know, but whatever she's up to, don't worry, I got your back, Your Highness!" He proudly takes his thumb up to his chest. Then, a loud growl can be heard through the com link. Felix blushes a bit as he takes his hand to his stomach instead. "Man... when are we gonna get there?"

Nasr checks the time just as his stomach lets out a matching growl. "Not soon enough…and the Major better make good on that restaurant promise…as long as there's halal restaurants here…"

"Do halal restaurants have vegetarian food?"

"Halal is just a way of preparing food, in line with the teachings of the Qu'ran. It's…it's like kosher but not the same," He admits.

"Oh...I see! Well, so long as there's something without meat in it, I'm all in."

Archer

GRMM (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ojXiSLFjvA)

"You know," Archer grumbles, leading the team out of the briefing room and towards the Evangelion hangers, currently occupied by the ground crew after party while the Pilots continue containing the Angel Core, "I don't think I'm ever going to get used to how much of a bitch she is. Opponent incapable of harming them, my ass. Did she see what that thing nearly did to Unit Alpha? If that shot had hit Unit Beta..." his voice trails off.

He calls up a few searches on his tablet, glancing over the city information. "As the best cavalry officer in the world said," a smirk crosses his face, "our job isn't to die for our country. Our job is to make the other bastard die for his. Now...cuisine restrictions. Felix is apparently vegetarian, and Nasr won't eat...whatever the hell isn't Halal." A confused look crosses his face. "What's Halal?"

Lorena blinks. "It's a way of preparing food in his culture, from my understanding. There are certain things he is allowed to eat, and things he is not."

"Pork, alcohol, food that isn't prayed over," Kira lists off. "Oh, and blood. Because otherwise we'd be giving it to him by the gallons." He tilts his head. "...Didn't you read his profile? It's mentioned in there."

"Do I look like I care about the minor details of the Pilots?" Archer demands, rounding the corner and stopping at a coffee dispenser. "His job is to pilot, and apparently, I have to feed him Halal food to keep him a happy pilot. What Halal actually is..." Taking a long draught from his fresh mug of coffee, Archer flicks at the rank insignia on his uniform sleeve. "That's what the chain of command is for, lady and gentleman. So, praying over food. Does he do that himself, or am I getting Section Two to hunt down one of his clerics to mutter for help into the air for him?"

"No," Lorena shakes her head. "He can do it himself, it just needs to be done. In fact, so long as he eats food at NERV, we can simply tell him it was made especially his way, and he'll believe it. And there are plenty of Halal restaurants in The Pit. It's quite a diverse place."

Kira orders a coffee of his own, but doesn't drink from it. "You'll find that the minor details are often the ones that creep up on you later, Major. The pilots are incredibly sensitive individuals, combat effectiveness or not. It wouldn't really do to walk into social traps that could otherwise be avoided and antagonize them, now would it?"

"Excellent!" Archer claps. "Congratulations Lorena, you've just won the Grand Prize of preparing a restaurant selection list for our lucky boys! Coffee?" Gesturing at the cup in his hand, he looks at her inquisitively.

Lorena frowns. "..."

"Kira, what teenager isn't sensitive?" He asks half-rhetorically. "Hell, I remember one-"

Asaria, Azfer. Corporal. Age 16. KIA May 2, 2010.

"-." His sentence trails off for a bit, and Archer's face goes blank. "Hm. Maybe I don't. Never mind."

Lorena stares blankly at Archer for a moment...then sighs. "Fine, I'll get some listed up. Give me twenty minutes." She turns on her heel and walks away, leaving Kira staring amusedly after her.

"I think she likes you." Kira notes, taking a gulp of his coffee. "Normally she'd tell you to go f*ck yourself."

Ignoring the rest of Kira's commentary, Archer looks up into one of the ceiling lights, a puzzled look on his face as he tries to recall the voice, the face, the person seemingly lingering at the edge of his memory. A blink, and the Major suddenly returns to the land of the living. "You sure it's not the other way around? Cause I always thought she seemed the voyeuristic type to me, you know, gets off on watching other people? Sounds like telling me to **** myself would be right up her alley. Heh, up her alley."

Kira snorts. "No, she's more of the 'hands-on' type. As in, gets her hands on voyeurs and beats the daylights out of them. Many a Section Two agent has tried and failed to see her naked. It's kind of a rite of passage, now." Kira smirks, eyes thoughtful. "Now that was a hell of a day."

"Anyways," Kira looks back at Archer. "The Director's not as bad as she seems. Lorena wasn't kidding when she said that the woman's sister was far worse than she could ever be."

Archer stares at Kira, one eyebrow slowly raising. "How much worse could the Director's sister possibly get? What, does she physically abuse her subordinates or something?" He shrugs, before gesturing at his tablet. "I know NERV is better surveilled than Cheyenne Mountain, even after they moved what remained of the Pentagon there. You're seriously telling me none of your techies has tried taking advantage of the cameras?"

"A: Much worse." Kira raises a finger. "B: They have; she disables them and knows who is on what shift when she is on break, so she can and has always made clear she would hunt down anyone who sold pictures of her." He drops the hand. "Keiko Meguro, the Director's half-sister? She's apparently SEELE's liaison in NERV HQ...and was their top interrogator for a few years prior to that. So, yeah, I'd say she's worse than the Director being rude."

"Ugh. Spooks." Archer makes a face that's somewhere on the spectrum between disgust and contempt. "About as close to a necessary evil as it gets." Unconsciously, his hand shifts to the grip of his pistol for a few seconds, before it gets stuffed into his pocket. "Hm. So I had a thought. If she's that good at observing and memorizing schedules..." An evil smile crosses his face. "Think the Pilots will ever be able to get away from us when we hit The Pit?"

Kira smiles back innocently.

"Excellent. All Section Two agents now have standing orders to burst in on both Pilots at the most embarrassing moment possible, should they be engaged in intimate physical activity, with the reason 'I thought you were being kidnapped'. Understood?" Against all the laws of biology, Archer's teeth seem to sharpen as he grins.

Kira's eyes gleam as he scoffs, putting the half-full coffee cup to his lips. "You got it, Major."

[Spartan Altego]

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
NERV Helicarrier 343: "The Key To Victory", Venezuela, South America
"The Pit" DLZ
[4:53PM]

GRMM (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DTdmi5D2gSI&list=RD024W7MNjfX9xw)

The core is immobile within the pedestal by the time the Key To Victory touches down across the landing strip on the outskirts of the Pit. NERV personnel armed with machinery and clipboards pounce about the scientific treasure trove, the seals around the crimson orb keeping the Angel's power at bay. Even the sweltering temperature has dulled, a relief for the pilots whom had been forced to deal with it for over two hours. In the distance, fields of green grass surround a vast network of towering (http://s2.postimg.org/ljw299h15/Future_Cities_by_bobstardoe.jpg) spires, neon lights, and smooth steel...all set against a high, glistening sun.

The pilots in question had been allowed to disembark from their Evangelions only minutes previously, and were being herded by Agent Lorena past the applauding crowd of workers and into a limousine, wherein Major Archer and Agent Kira are sitting comfortably, the latter flipping through a copy of the Canterbury Tales. Felix and Nasr get in, followed by Lorena, and they're speeding away from the outpost, away from the Evangelions...and towards their new home. Lorena crosses her legs, eying Archer oddly as she addresses the children. "So, Nasr, we've found a couple of Halal practicing restaurants on the west side of Valencia that will fit just perfectly for you. In addition, we've already instructed the chefs at Seventh Heaven to prepare food in your custom."

"As far as living conditions go, dear Lorena here," Kira gets a frown from the woman in question. "Will be taking care of you at her home. You'll go to school, interact with other kids, and all that fun teenager stuff they tell me about." Kira smirks, looking deviously at Archer. "Oh, and the Major will be living with you as well, from what I'm told."

[jaybird]

Archer grins right back at Kira. "So that means, kids, that whipping them out and comparing will be banned from your lives for the foreseeable future. You can decide who wants which available room between yourselves." Leaning back, Archer contemplates the ceiling of the limo. "Good hunting out there today. Nasr, fantastic shooting, really top-notch. Felix, you never let the bastard slow you down, and that takes real guts. Don't get over-confident, but remember that you can hurt them, and you can kill them." He flicks a few images from his pad to an inbuilt screen on the limo walls, and detailed pictures of the luxury apartment that the pilots have been assigned to. Another flick, and the list that Lorena compiled appears on the adjacent screen. "I don't know about you, kids, but Kaiju fights work up a real appetite. Pick one, we'll do our debrief later tonight. You both look like you need a break."

[Fernosaur]

Diagonal fold. Then a straight fold. Horizontal fold. Another diagonal. Pull this edge inside...

For the last hour, Felix had been constantly folding a piece of paper to form a small, even-sided cross, his eye gazing at the white form in his hands as if it were a hole in the fabric of reality. Then he'd unfold it, iron it against his pants, and fold it back in the same shape. He had received it from Naomi after getting ejected from Armstrong, it was probably some battle report or whatever. It didn't really matter.

Sh*t, it was such a cold feeling. Every. Single. Time. It was as if suddenly nothing mattered. And in a way, it didn't. Whenever he wasn't aboard Armstrong, the whole freaking world was a dump. A big, horrid, putrid dump. And it was all his f*cking fault. His fault for being so damn useless.

He takes a quick look at the distant-looking boy sitting to his side. He was a motherf*cking prince, he had such big goals, such a big future, and he was also such a freaking skilled pilot. He hadn't missed ONE shot, and what had he done in comparison? Taking a beating? Congratulations on being the sh*ttiest hero on the planet.

He hadn't been paying attention to the Major's words until he heard his name. He instinctively looked up at him, his military training responding in the place of the young boy.

"Felix, you never let the bastard slow you down, and that takes real guts."

He opens his eye a little wider, not really expecting a compliment from the officer. Stuttering a bit, he finally lets out a weak "Thank you, sir."

His gaze lowered again with a faint smile showing up on his face, as he kept on folding the piece of paper in his hands. He took quick looks at the screen on the limo's panel, looking at the list of restaurants.

"Anything Nasr wants is fine with me, sir..." he replies quietly, eyeing the prince sitting by his side. "I just can't eat meat."

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr felt the absence keenly from the moment he was ripped from the warm, safe plug. It seemed like everyone wanted to take a moment to congratulate him, insisted on taking his space and making it their own for his purpose, but the pilot simply walked straight to the locker rooms, deep in thought.

Nasr strips the plugsuit to his waist, piles a couple towels near the shower area, doublechecked for anyone else and, satisfied that he was alone for now, slipped out of the plugsuit and into the hot, steamy water. He scrubs at his skin and hair, vaguely aware of his surroundings, caring only to get clean. He hardly notices when Felix also enters the locker room, but resolves to be out and dressed before the other buy leaves his shower. Swaddled in towels, Nasr makes a beeline for his locker, quickly changing into civilian clothes before stepping back out into the hallway, saying not a word.

Getting in the car with Archer just feels like a chore, compared to the high of winning a meal out for the rest of the week. Felix appears preoccupied with some piece of paper; Nasr is more aware but just feels...off. He bites back a sigh at the Operations Director's continued use of lewd imagery to make some point or another. Really, it's exhausting, but Nasr just tries to brush it off for now. He takes the latest set of compliments without comment, merely looking around at the apartment, which seems nice enough, and the surrounding menus, until...

His stomach loudly rumbles. The boy flushes with annoyance, hands gripping his belly as a wave of nausea and hunger washes over him. "That Uyghur-Szechuan place looks great," he points at one of the screens for an upscale Chinese restaurant . "I haven't had that kind of food in forever."

[Spartan Altego]

"Sounds good." Kira nods, pulling back the slide that separated the passengers from the drivers. "Omar's Xinjiang Halal Restaurant. It's on Westboro, off of Saints." The driver nods, and the slide is closed up. The rest of the drive proceeds in silence, Nasr staring out the bulletproofed windows at the passing crowds of civilians, all agape at the fancy car driving past. Lorena watches Felix with growing bemusement as the boy continues to obsessively fold, unfold, and refold his scrap of paper.

Lorena and Kira both take deceptively casual positions around Archer and the children as they disembark, hands in their pockets, eyes sweeping the area. Archer knew the building had already been triple checked for possible threats, up to and including food poisoning, but he let them work. After all, better safe than dead. He leads the party into the establishment (http://www.newyorkmarkt.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/Futuristic-Restaurant-Nobu-Interior-Design.jpg), Nasr and Felix getting curious looks from the exiting folk. The cashier, a young, round-faced woman of Brazillian descent looks up at them as they enter, glittering ear-rings complementing her features. "How may I help you?" She chirps, looking Kira over appreciatively.

The agent simply smiles politely. "A booth, non-smoking, please. We're having the buffet."

She nods, leading them over to their destination, appropriately set some distance away from the other customers and out of the line of sight from windows...and with a clear line to the exits, if need be. The cashier gives Kira a wink, handing them their menus...and Archer spots a slip of paper inside the charming agent's item. From the sigh Lorena gave, she did as well. "Third time." Is all she says.

Kira simply crumbles the paper up discreetly. "Fourth, actually. I got another one after you left to pick up Felix, here. Speaking of whom," He looks at Felix, seated opposite himself and Nasr. "Are you enjoying your little activity there?"

[Fernosaur]

"Yes?" the boy answers blankly, reacting more to the mention of his name than the actual question. He just stares at the agents intermitently, thinking they maybe had something else to say, but the silence finally made him realize the last thing Kira said was probably aimed at him.

"Oh. This. I, uh... it's nothing important, I'm just..." He pauses.

Tired? Come on, you don't get tired. You can't seriously be tired after a fight that barely gave you a scratch.

"...I was thinking. Yeah, you know, about the city and so on."

He takes a look at the paper cross again. The edges were already really, really soft, and the paper was so wrinkled that it was hardly a piece of paper anymore. He had probably been doing that for hours now, without even thinking about it. It was then when he noticed how intense the light coming in from the windows was. Of course, it was mid-day here, he was definitely not used to that. Even if the artificial lights in London helped people carry on with their daily chores, that was definitely nothing like actual sunshine.

The redhead blushes a bit, thinking about how the others probably caught his little obsessive folding, and lets out a small sigh. He looks around the place, trying to flash a smile at both agents, and the Major.

"Um, so... it's a nice place." He nods, eyeing his surroundings. Are they, uh, bringing the food soon?"

His hand was still anxiously folding the paper against the table, with much less care than before this time.

[Spartan Altego]

The agent gives a short 'heh' of amusement. "It's a buffet, Felix; you go out and get your own plate of food. As much as you want. One of the many you'll like about Valencia, I'm guessing."

Kira's prediction is proven correct when the group's drinks are served, and the lot of them are free to mill about the establishment, picking from the various rows of delightful food; Thai chicken, brown and white rice, grilled fish, and more. The sheer smell of it all is intoxicating to the food-deprived NERV staff, and they quickly dig into their respective meals with unmatched feveror. Lorena, whose plate was loaded up with incredible amounts of meat, gives a muted belch, before blushing faintly. "Excuse me." She mutters, before returning to her dining.

The television set for their particular area of the buffet is on, subtitled in American English, conveniently enough. A news broadcast, probably not local by the pale sheen of the anchorman's skin, giving out climate estimates and other trivialities, although Kira notably perks up at the mention of rain storms for the next two days. The report continues. "In other news, there has been some controversy stirred up around the world as of late on the religious front, as a small group dubbed "The Followers of Tabris" has recently been denied the right to abstain from taxation in North America-"

Kira's phone rings (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kvpyz6MUa1w). Looking midly surprised, he answers. "Yes?" A pause. "Indeed? Has the Director been notified of this?" Another pause. "Ten minutes, then. We're finishing our dinner at the moment." He hangs up. A rather thin man shuffles past, plate filled with a mixture of rice, potatoes, and sprinkled with some orange flavoring that gave the food a delightful tint, settling into the booth behind them.

"Alright, a bit of a change of plans. Security's getting a little antsy about not having this place sealed off while you're here, and they want to get you to your new home as soon as possible. Grab whatever food you wanna take, and let's-"

A muted crack! Kira's eyes go wide, then droop, glazing over. He falls face first into his empty plate, a smoking hole through the cushioning of his seat where his head rested...and a gushing hole in the back of his neck spurting blood into Nasr's face and Archer's eye. The thin man rises from his seat, the tiny suppressed handgun trained on the elder NERV staff. "A bit of a change of plans." The man smirks, gray eyes mirthless. He calls out to the cashier, the pretty woman who has so salaciously looked over the now cooling Kira. "Mira, grab the kids and get them to safety! I'll clean up here once you're gone."


Closing Theme (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNMKVdxFoS4)

[Spartan Altego]

http://s14.postimg.org/uaozjgikx/Part_II.png

Opening Theme (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZYpg8a8yvu8&list=PLZGOTkHPGMpE5-0BYZLIodh-_QJRYM39)

[Spartan Altego]

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
Neo Valencia, Venezuela
Omar's Xinjiang Halal Restaurant
[5:11PM]

GRMM (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=imD72UL8NCw)

The thin man keeps his gun trained on Lorena, who glares at him fiercely as the Brazillian girl, his accomplice, rushes up with her own handgun, her dress having been replaced with a sweater, jeans, and a black combat vest. She keeps her eyes on Archer and Lorena as she extends a hand out to the children. "It's alright, you're safe now." She says soothingly. She frowns at the man. "You shouldn't have killed him like that. We agreed, remember?"

"The kids'll be fine." The man shrugs. "NERV's probably made them see worse. Just get them outta here before the goon squad rolls up; I already called for pickup, they'll be out front."

[Fernosaur]

Felix frowns at the prospect of having to leave the cozy restaurant. It was starting to get really comfortable, despite him still feeling somewhat... hazy.

He sighs, looking at Nasr as the agent speaks, trying to get a supportive look from his fellow pilot. "But we barely started eat--"

The sudden crack of Kira's face against the white china and the red droplets staining Nasr's face make the boy's eye go wide open, his stomach suddenly aching at the realization of what was happening in front of him as the empty plate started filling up with the blood of the young man, dripping from his mouth.

He could feel the adrenaline rushing, his hands trembling, and the pressing urgency of danger taking over his body. He was dead? Dead?.

He was dead.

As if everything had suddenly become slow-mo, Felix shoots a look towards Nasr, his heartbeats accelerating. He had to keep him safe. He was his bodyguard, right? But he felt an intense fear creeping up on him, the safety of his Eva long gone and the naked danger of human iron almost palpable. But a real hero shouldn't feel fear, and if an 80 meters tall demi-god couldn't keep him back, a meek 3 grams of metal wouldn't either.

Because he had to get him out of there.

One hostile. Another one. Gun, gun. As he eyed Lorena and the Major, he noticed the later was already drawing his gun. The other woman was closer to him now.

In two quick movements, Felix plants his feet on the seat, jumps on the back of the chair, and then pushes forward, flying through the air towards the woman aiming her gun at Lorena and landing his arm on her neck, twisting her hand with his body and pulling her backwards with the momentum. He spins around her back, finally grabbing her other arm and landing beside her.

"Major!!" he shouts, urging his superior to take care of the other assailant before they could put a finger on the prince.

[jaybird]

The world stands still around Archer, as spots of detail jump out at him. Lorena standing next to him, still comparatively frozen. The - Green and brown? - table, his subordinate's blood spreading across it. His pilot leaping at one of the hostiles - With his hands? Where's his bayonet? - screaming the battle cry of the 7th Cavalry.

"Lieutenant!!" He hears him shout - Seriously, WHERE was his bayonet? - and his body snaps into action, trusting that the crazy private would be able to handle himself. The kid was young, conscripted at age 15, but Hell, who wasn't? He was only 19 himself. Springing up from the earthworks, he draws his pistol - From inside his coat? Why wasn't it on his hip holster? - and lines it up against the slaver who just shot his platoon sergeant, gray-blue eyes the warmth of Atlantic waves in November.

"Al-Saud, Duwait - New transfers just before the battle? He didn't remember those names. - haul ass! The war's gonna be over by the time you two gold-brickers get there! Where's your rifles?"

His pistol barks one, two, three, four shots - And that DEFINITELY wasn't the sound of his M1911. - and he blinks, staring down at the two bodies in front of him, Kira's sprawled over the very blue table and the assassin's on the floor, a mess of blood, muscle, bone, and brains where the left side of his face used to be. The compact NERV-issue pistol, all slick black resin and high technology, rests in his hand, smoking from the barrel and definitely not the big, ugly, brutal hand-cannon that had been his service pistol in the Army. What in the HELL - no. That didn't happen, I imagined it, I don't have time to think about it now. Mission first!

"All Seventh Heaven Section Two assets, this is Major Archer with both Pilots. We are under attack. I want reinforcements here YESTERDAY!"

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr blinks at the muffled shot, eyes on Kira as the man falls forward, his impact splattering food all over the table, followed by the squirts of blood that fade to a slow trickle.

Nasr's eyes move down to his own plate: half-eaten at this point, a veritable conucopia of food, real food. Real meat, not some flavored soy product that never quite gets the texture right. Vegetables grown in living soil under the sun, not hydroponics labs. The food was excellently spiced, not generally-bland MREs. And, most importantly, it's real food, not some flavored nutrient slurry that keeps you alive and healthy and builds muscle while being the exact opposite of real food. Nasr's real food now has bits of skull in it, and blood.

He looks from his plate to Kira's head, fallen into its own dinner. He looks back to his plate. He looks up to the two people standing near the table, guns trained on Archer and Lorena, insisting he come with them. He looks back at his plate.

"How dare you," he says, flat and cold, the monotone belying that he's slipped well beyond any state of reason. "Who do you think you are?"

Then the world explodes. Across the table, Archer draws his sidearm and opens fire while next to him, Felix launches himself at the woman. Did they share a look? Nasr thinks. Why didn't they include me in on it?!

Nasr's hands are empty. But then they're not. In the blink of an eye, he grabs his dropped fork with his left hand and flings it at the woman under attack from Felix. The tines screaming through the air towards the hand still holding a gun, despite Felix's grapple.

At the same time, Nasr lunges laterally out of the seat, his right hand sliding up into the air. That hand effortlessly catches the gun being dropped by the attacker whom Archer has just so expertly shot in the face twice. Nasr comes down into a rolling crouch, gun up and ready. He takes a moment to evaluate his cover options.

[Spartan Altego]

Nasr's improvised projectile passes directly through the upper portion of Mira's hand and out of the other side, whizzing through the air with flecks of blood and crashing through a window. The woman gasps in agony, dropping her gun and allowing Felix to tighten his grip on her further. She looks at the boy, eyes wide and full of confusion, before her left temple explodes open, spraying Felix with further gore. She goes limp in his arms, Lorena's gun smoking. "Assh*le." She hisses.

Archer's call receives no response: his communicator is dead. Either it was broken, or the transmission was being blocked...or ignored. he can hear car wheels screeching up to the restaurant, and the sounds of rifles being readied. Through the recently shattered window he can see six men armed with assault rifles and body armor piling out of trucks and taking cover between the parked cars and screaming pedestrians. One of them lines up their weapon on Archer, vulnerable and open, unleashing a hail of automatic fire on the man.

[Fernosaur]

Startled, Felix closes his eye as the woman's head is splattered across his face. He could feel the dead weight pressing on his grip, life escaping quickly out of the assailant.

"No!! Wait! S-she didn't... I..." the boy stutters, not letting go of the dead body, feeling his heart beating faster and faster as the blood ran through his cheek and dripped from his chin. He looks at Kira's corpse, then the man lying on the floor, his face burst open by the bullets, and then the lost stare of the woman in his arms.

No, this wasn't supposed to be it. They were supposed to be piloting and protecting the world, right? why were they even attacking them?! He didn't want people to suddenly start dropping dead all around him, like Kira and this woman had. It wasn't supposed to go like this. But the screams and the sound of the people gathering outside of the restaurant made him realize this was only beginning. He turns around, his teeth clenched, barely in time to see the men aiming at the Major inside.

"Stop!!" The boy roars, dropping the corpse at his feet and putting himself in the way of the bullets, his arms held firm in front of his face. The iron's impact with his flesh sends a stinging sensation through his body as droplets of blood fly through the air, but it was no different than being inside Armstrong. It was actually the exact same feeling.

He slowly lowers his arms, looking right at the agressors outside. He wasn't going to let them, he wasn't going to f*cking let them harm anyone else.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" he shouts, starting to move towards the broken windows with sure steps, as thin trails of blood ran down his arms and into his clenched fists. "We're here to protect you! We're here to save you from the f*cking end of the world!!

[jaybird]

His eyes track away from Nasr's dive for a gun and towards the newly arrived shooters, and Archer's body blurs into motion - too late for a clean dodge, he already knows. Twisting to one side, he shifts the pistol holster inside his jacket into the path of one bullet. The copper-cased lead round smacks into the tough synthetic material, sending Archer spinning back the other way. The second bullet skims his head as the impact jerks him forward, only taking off a few strands of his hair on its way, and the third leaves a clean hole in the shoulder of his jacket. His face contorts into a snarl as he realizes that he's twisted himself into a corner. This is going to hurt.

"Stop!!"

Making a desperate dive for the steam table the buffet had been set out on, Archer grunts as he hits the ground. That didn't hurt as much as the last time I got shot did. He pulls a gas cylinder from under the table, and a triumphant grin crosses his face. A few swift blows from his pistol and a cartridge jammed into the valve mechanism later, he turns around, a makeshift bomb in his arms. Perfect positioning, Felix. "Felix! Eight seconds, throw this at them!"

Only then does he notice the lack of blood on himself, and the blood streaming down his pilot's arms.

[Fernosaur]

The mention of his name makes him turn around quickly, not having any time to even notice what was being tossed at him. The boy catches the gas tank with his hand, and trying to take advantage of the momentum, he shoots his arms forward.

Then he noticed what it was. The boy stops mid-launch, realizing he was about to throw a freaking bomb at the people outside. He tried to stop it, thinking he could perhaps run with it somewhere else and keep the assailants from dying.

Oh, but the blood that had dripped from his arms made his hands a little bit too slippery...

The gas tank just flies a couple meters away from the boy, landing in the middle of the restaurant.

Sh*t.

It was gonna go off. There was nothing he could do about it.

The prince. The thought blew up in his head like a flash grenade, as he quickly turned around and made a dash for the other pilot, who was saying something by the window.

[Whiskeyjack]

"Felix, you idiot, get down and into cover!" Nasr shouts. His left hand snatches out to retrieve Kira's gun from its holster. The booth's not going to stop APDS rounds but it's better than nothing, he thinks, checking each gun and eyeing available cover.

"Section Two really dropped the ball. I doubt the Blue Helmets would've been so careless," he sighs, checking the safety on the silenced pistol and opting to use Kira's larger, deadlier, higher-caliber weapon for now. He looks around the small amount of cover provided by the booth. "Through the window to cover behind cars, or back into the kitchen, or...I can move behind the buffets and flank them..."

"Felix! Eight seconds, throw this at them!"

Nasr's head twists to see Archer, and his eyes get big. Clever one, that American.

Spying the eastern window, Nasr aims carefully and puts a round from the silenced pistol through it, shattering the glass. "Felix, you bin'nt himaar, that thing will...if the rest catch, it...just follow me! We'll cover behind the cars and pick them off!" He starts to move for the window...and feels lifted from behind. How did... he almost lashes out at his would-be kidnapper when he realizes it's Felix.

"What...what the hell are you doing?! When I said follow me, I didn't mean... Put me down at once, this is so undignified!" he whines as the other pilot slings him bodily over one shoulder and carries him out of the restaurant at top speed.

[Spartan Altego]

Lorena and Archer are right behind the fleeing children, bullets slamming into the tables and walls around them as the attack team focuses their fire on the two NERV guardians. The bomb continues to slowly count down towards detonation, the gas hissing and leaking through the open vale and filling the room with invisible, very much explodable fumes. Fumes that were held by the other tanks in the buffet...and the kitchen.

Felix leaps through the shattered window, crashing to the ground below and stumbling a bit, off balance from Nasr's added weight. His stumble turns into a fall when Archer crashes into his back, Lorena right behind him, and the four roll across the ground, gasping. They can hear footsteps pounding towards them, the attack squad pursing. Archer catches a small ding! from within the restaurant...and the world seems to explode. The once prestigious Halal restaurant goes up in a grandiose fireball, sending shards of burning wood and shattered glass for dozens of meters in all directions. Civilian and solider alike scream as they are enveloped in the explosion, immolated.

Lorena and Felix shield the children with their bodies, dragging them forward as the flames just barely pause a foot away from their position...then the concussive wave hits them as well, flinging them a dozen yards forward. Archer smacks unto the roof of a once beautiful red Ferrari, the breath whooshing out of him as his vision darkens. Lorena flies into a park bench, smashing through it and collapsing amongst the snapped wood and bent metal.

Nasr and Felix are lucky enough to simply hit the ground and roll, coming to a stop at the lip of a fountain, merrily streaming water from the flasks held in the hands of cherubs. Nasr coughs, feeling a tooth loosen inside his jaw. Felix's vision is blurry, head pounding. He felt so...sleepy. Nasr faints beside him, Felix barely managing to resist doing so himself.

His vision swims. Dark shapes lurk around him, and his unconscious coworker. Their forms were hazy, unfocused. He couldn't make out their faces. He feels a hand grab him roughly about the throat, lifting him up to eye level with the shadows. His vision focuses for a moment, eyes meeting a black reflective helmet. "I really f*cking hate Stockholm Syndrome." The helmeted man growls, before dropping him to the ground.

Felix is almost grateful that he can feel himself beginning to go numb as the man raises his foot and drops it down on his face.

Darkness.

[Spartan Altego]

Archer

GRMM (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-GqOsZT_hc)

Archer awakens to the sound of fingers snapping before his face. His vision blurs for a moment, the figures before him hazy and unrecognized. His chest feels like it has just had twelve dates with a boa constrictor, and he finds it difficult to breathe properly without knives of pain rushing through him. He's on a....gurney? Sirens wail in the distance. He blinks, vision clearing enough to make out the pasty, thin visage of a paramedic, NERV staff by the insignia on the man's white uniform. The man, who looked little older than Archer himself, gives a brief half-smile,

Archer lolls his head about, looking around. The halal restaurant was a destroyed ruin, being bombarded by firemen with water hoses. Smoke roils and belches forth from the husk. He can see body bags being loaded, and...parts...being picked up around the streets. The bench he had seen Lorena crash into is empty of anybody, or any body. The paramedic's visage briefly blurs into another one, wearing a green steel pot helmet with a crudely painted red cross on the forehead, as Archer slowly comes to his senses. With a groan, he tries to recall the events of the last few minutes.

The brats better be okay with take-out for the rest of their reward, he thinks to himself. Oh ****, the pilots!

"Status..." he breaks out into a coughing fit. "Status report. Where are my pilots? Where's Agent Duwait? Any severe injuries among critical personnel?"

The medic frowns reluctantly, casting a glance to his right. Archer follows his gaze, watching as a heavily bruised and unconscious Lorena is carted off into an ambulance, and driven away. He receives no response for the first part of his question. Archer growls in anger, slamming his fist down on something nearby. With a crash, the side-view mirror of the car he impacted on drops to the ground. "Status. ****ING. Report. Where the HELL are my pilots..." he tilts his head to the left slightly, trying to block out the waves of nausea resulting from his movement. "...Specialist Wade?"

Wade gulps. "Sir, the pilots appears to have been captured by enemy forces, sir. I don't know anything else." He places a restraining hand on Archer's shoulder. "Sir, you've suffered a mild concussion and have bruised nearly all your ribs. You need to rest, or you'll hurt yourself worse."

Clenching his teeth and concentrating hard on nothing at all, Archer staggers up from the crumpled sports car, fighting back the stabbing pain in the back of his head. In comparison, he can barely feel his bruised and battered ribcage. Small blessings. Retrieving his dropped pistol, he holsters it in his burnt jacket and surveys the situation, taking stock of the number of NERV operatives on scene. "Right! All Section Two personnel, on me now! Move it!" Archer barks. Just like surviving goddamn artillery.

The dozen body armored agents line up in single file, assault rifles held in a loose, but ready stance. They are silent, awaiting his orders. Surveying the squad, Archer nods. He's led far worse troops on far more difficult missions. "Sergeant...Horvath. What's the situation here? Any idea what's happened to my pilots?"

"Sir, the pilots have been captured by an enemy faction, designation unknown." Horvath replies crisply, stepping forward. "Section Two is currently moving through the city conducting searches, and inquires are being made to the U.N. liaisons about possible perpetrators."

"Right. Well, the United ****ing Nations are on the job. That makes me feel a whole **** of a lot better." Evidently, Archer's mood has not been improved by what was effectively a shrug and a stupid look. Straining at his memory, he fishes up a few possibly relevant facts. "Before, well," he gestures at the smoking ruins of the restaurant, "there were two kidnappers in plainclothes. Seemed to be some sort of child rights whatever-the-hell, told the pilots they were safe after they shot Kira." Can't think about that now. Mission first. "Then there were bastards in mil-spec kit. About half a dozen of them. Any history of protests or loss of military equipment in the last...two months?"

Horvath takes the attitude in stride, unfazed. "No, sir. No losses have been reported, ad the city has been quiet. No riots, no protests."

Archer scowls, gesturing for Specialist Wade to come up to him. "Great. Sergeant, keep your men on watch, and get ready to move at a moment's notice. Specialist, get me a secure link to the Commander and a MAGI up-link." Striding towards the nearest Section Two van, Archer turns on his heels as he reaches the back doors. "And get me a Vicodin too. On second thought, make that a full bottle of Vicodin. And on third thought, figure out how they got the pilots out of here!"

Horvath nods, retreating back to his men, who spread across the area alertly, eyes kept fixed on the distant crowds of aghast civilians. Wade gets into the van with Archer, closing the door behind the two. Fishing in his pockets, he hands the Major a bottle of pills. "Here. Was going to give you them before you got up, but..."

Archer takes them, and Wade quickly sets up a communications link between a NERV issue laptop and the MAGI. He looks helplessly at Archer. "Um, sir, I don't have clearance to contact the Commander. Maybe you'd have better luck?"

"No problem, Specialist. If you aren't allowed to talk to her, you might want to head back out. Regulations." Giving the medic a nod of thanks for the painkillers, Archer waits for the man to leave the van before entering his personal security authorization into the communications system. This...this is going to suck. As Archer fires up the MAGI up-link and begins scanning through street-level security camera records, he contemplates the shouting match that's about to take place over comms.

Traffic cameras show helmeted, armored figures carrying the unconscious pilots into a white van with no licence plate, and then quickly speeding off. One of the figures stops to toy with some sort of pad, and the audio and video cut out abruptly. A moment later, it resumes, the time-stamp having skipped fifteen minutes forward.

Before he can mull over this too long, his handshake goes through, and he's met by a scowling Saya. "Major." She greets frostily.

"Commander. I'm sure you're aware of the recent Charlie Foxtrot. I was informed that this was a NERV-secured area. What happened?" Archer responds, just as frostily. His fingers dance over the keyboard, trying to track the general path of the kidnappers by determining the locations of cameras that were tampered with. His search reveals a rather startling issue: All the cameras had been disabled, city-wide. Whomever had planned the operation had planned for a search like this, it seemed.

"Whomever informed you of the security of the area needs to be fired, then." Says replies, eyes flashing. "The area was not in any way listed as secure by Section Two, and the guards we had assigned to trail you have all turned up dead. It was an ambush, likely by an opponent of one of our benefactors'."

Archer's teeth grind as he processes the information. "Someone with a ton of resources. They jammed my comms during the attack, too, and managed to shut down the entire city camera grid. We aren't dealing with morons today." Absently wiping some dried blood off the side of his face, he scowls at the monitor. "Wireless shutdown, that is. Think someone's inside the MAGI and screwing with us?" He contemplates instituting blackout procedures for a few moments. He has the authority, and it would put a quick stop to civilian crowding issues. "I want the Steel Curtain system activated. NERV investigators will remain air-mobile and clear all sealed-off sections one by one. All unauthorized cross-quarantine movement will be destroyed."

Saya nods. "Already being done. We've also activated the Type-66 Firewall, since there is a good chance the MAGI have been compromised."

Archer acknowledges with a grunt. "Right. Anything else happen in the last while since I've been taking a jaunt into dreamland?" Running one hand over his stubble, he winces as he finds another half-clotted cut on his jawline. "If not, I'm going to take a look around Ground Zero myself, see if I can't find anything they forgot to police."

Nasr/Felix

January 1st, 2022 (New Year's Day)
???, Neo Valencia
[???]

GRMM (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I1j4Ec3wApw&list=PL5q_1jVfJE0MAVslwKz3lY_XF7IQ7TJ9Z)

The first thing that hits them is the smell of the place: clean, antiseptic...suffocating. Bright white lights bear down insufferably on their eyes, and their first reaction is to close them, hide from the terrible photons. At least the bed was soft, although the bindings around their wrists and feet were a bit much.

...Wait.

Bindings?

The memories come rushing back: the Angel, dinner, the explosion...being captured. And now they were....where, exactly? The boys look confusedly at one another from across the room, then at their surroundings. They were in some kind of hospital room. And hospital gowns, as they quickly noticed. Nobody else is with them except for a single, gray camera, nestled over in the farthest corner of the room, lenses wide enough to capture both of them.

No. No, no, no, this wasn't real, right? It was one of those weird dreams you have when you eat too much. Felix takes quick, desperate looks around the room, trying to find something else... anything. He looks at Nasr, worry evident in his face. "Y-your Highness, did they hurt you?!"

If they were in hospital gowns... could it be that they had...?

"Next time Archer has a brilliant plan involving an IED…just say no," Nasr responds. He tenses his wrist slightly, and tries to move his neck. His attempts at movement are met with fierce protest by his muscles, sending sharp spikes of pain though him. Felix's reexamination of the room yields little fruit. They were in a hospital room of some kind, and hooked up to what appeared to be IV bags.

They notice that their sense of touch...their sense of everything, seems to be rather blunted. Numbed.

"Nggh," Nasr mutters, trying to will his body into moving despite the pain, wondering how long they've been laying here. Felix looks at Nasr's struggles. He had to get him out of there. He had to get them both out of there. He tries to sit up, pulling himself up with his abdomen. They had to be able to move first...

Nasr's brain is sluggish, but he's able to figure out why from a quick examination of the IV bags...which weren't IV bags at all. Rather, it was a chemical cocktail known as psuedothymine, a painkilling drug that military organizations used to numb the nerves of wounded soldiers. He recognized it from his time on SEELE's moonbase. Felix's straining is met with firm resistance, both from within and without. The bindings were tough, and worse, while his state could best be described as pleasantly numb, and attempts at motion quickly threw away that status in favor of stinging pain.

"Don't worry too much about the IV. Looks like painkillers," Nasr says, slurring slightly. {Arabic} "Just a check: you can't understand me right now, can you? Respond in Arabic if you can."

Felix looks at the prince in-between his struggles, looking at the IV first, then back at him. "Uh... Parle vou francais?"

"Well, I know that phrase, but not much else." Nasr looks up at the camera…then shifts his head around slowly, looking for other items in this room.

Felix sighs. "Don't worry, Your Highness, I'll get you out of here... I just need to... Nnnggghhh!" the boy starts getting up, feeling the pain shoot through his muscles, his face turning red from the effort. He finally manages to sit up, panting a bit.

You can kiss my arse, pain. He starts groaning again, louder this time, as he starts pulling his arms outward. With a snap, the bindings come off, the rope (?) falling on the bed as the boy lifts his arms, trying to get a feel for his fingers. He looks at the camera. Yeah, he didn't have much time to free the other pilot. He shoots towards Nasr's bed, rolling him around and trying to undo his bindings as well. "Uh...sorry about this..."

Nasr's head jerks around and he sighs loudly. "We're going to get tranqed for this, I just know it." Nasr keeps looking around as this goes on, mainly for anything handy to arm himself aside from the IV stand. Or any devices through which they might gain information.

"We have to at least try!" he answers, making away with the knot on the boy's wrists. "There... can you walk?"

Nasr sits up slowly, hand reaching out to grab the IV stand. "I think so. Keep your IV in if you can, I don't think we'll make it too far if we start feeling everything."

A small buzz.

Across the room, the handle-less door that appeared to be an exit opens slowly, two burly men flanking a dark, blonde haired woman in hospital scrubs. She coughs. "Boys, I'm going to have to ask that you please return to your beds. You've just been in a serious accident and you need to rest."

"First, I'd like to see your NERV or U.N. ID, please."

As soon as the he hears the buzz, Felix turns to the door, putting himself between the newcomers and Nasr and lifting his arm up, as if protecting him. Nasr leans on the IV stand.

The woman raises her ID: Kyrie Largetta, NERV Medical Staff.

Nasr blinks. That was unexpected.

Felix's eye opens wide at the revelation, feeling more and more confused. "W-where the bloody hell are we, then?! Why did you tie us up?"

Nasr looks for obvious weapons or IDs on the burly men. The men have what appear to be tranquilizer guns at their sides, but neither make a move for them. Kyrie sighs. "We had you tied up because we were afraid you would remove the drugs and start exacerbating your injuries. You're in Seventh Heaven HQ, in the VIP ward."

Felix's eye twitches a bit. W-was that really proper medical procedure? If they were Nerv, though, things were okay, right? They were safe now, right? That meant the Major and Lorena had made it out of the explosion and were... somewhere.

Nasr looks around again. "…I want to talk to our CO in Operations, and I want my personal items." He spreads his arms. "We clearly aren't going anywhere right now."

The woman winces. "That...isn't possible, I'm afraid. Major Archer is..." She looks away.

"You mean he's dead?" Nasr doesn't ask with a hint of trepidation or discomfort in his voice. It's the exact same kind of voice that might ask a waitress about what kinds of salad dressing a restaurant offers. He frowns slightly, trying to remember who else is in the chain of command for Operations.

Felix stutters, shocked by Nasr's words. His hand, still raised in front of Nasr, starts shaking. Did the Major really die in the explosion? But that would mean... The gas tank. He didn't throw it far away enough, did he? He hesitated, and now...

His head slowly begins to hang low on his neck.

[Spartan Altego]

Felix/Nasr

Kyrie nods slowly, looking a little unnerved by Nasr's utter indifference. "Yes, he died from the concussive wave that followed the explosion. It's a miracle that you two survived as it is, and searches are being made for both the perpetrators of the attack and any other survivors, but..." She gives them a sympathetic look. "It looks like you two are the only ones. I'm sorry."

Archer

"Before you move out, Major, you should know that our benefactors have taken notice of the situation here, and are sending in an agent to assist in the investigation...and perhaps beyond." There is a strangeness in the Commander's tone that Archer can't quite pinpoint, though her face remains as stoic as usual. "She will be arriving within the day. Follow her orders to the letter, and work with her as best as you can. Trust me, this is not someone you want to cross. You'll meet her back at headquarters."

With her declaration made, Saya's screen blinks off, leaving the interior of the van dark. There was still some time left before he needed to return to HQ, meaning he could either go now., or assist in investigating the area. His search on the traffic cameras had turned up diddly, but that didn't mean there wasn't anything else left to find.

[Fernosaur]

His heart raced as a feeling of bereft took over his head, his stare fixed on the nothingness of the white floor.

Yes, the images of the encounter were somehow vivid, and he could recall, instant by instant, how the rigged gas tank slipped from his fingers and unto the ground. That had been it. One second of hesitation, and boom. The waiters, the customers, the assailants, and more importantly, key Nerv personel, they were all dead.

"You think you will ever call yourself a soldier like this?"

The grave, distant voice of his father echoed through his head, his arms slowly going limb, now hanging to each of his sides. His breathing turned shallow as his eye tried hard to focus on a single point, but to no avail. He could feel it, that lump in his throat he so desperately tried to chug back every other night.

"Don't you dare crying, you brat. You hear me? Don't you dare shedding a single tear! You hear me?!"

But it was becoming so difficult...

The wham of a wooden cane hitting live flesh rang sharply through his mind, the memory of the stinging pain on his back forcing him to clench his fist and his teeth.

Don't you dare. Don't you dare.

A deep sigh, his eyes closed. Yes, the lump was going away, slowly, but it was working. He had to breathe deeply, calm himself down. This wasn't the time for self-hatred, no. He had to be a soldier. He had to be a bloody, goddamn soldier.

"W-what are our orders now, then?" His voice was hoarse, and hesitantly bled from his mouth. "We haven't had an official debriefing for our past mission".

[jaybird]

"You got it, Commander. As long as she doesn't get in my way, we'll be just peachy." His take-no-prisoners expression written clearly across his face, Archer staggers out of the van, knocking back another handful of Vicodin to beat back the nausea. Ignoring Specialst Wade's concerned look, he begins pacing back and forth in the wreckage of the restaurant, ignoring the chunks of vaguely pork-smelling organic material being scraped up by the medic teams.

I don't care, private! Anyone in that bunker is hostile, now get that flamethrower into action or I'll shoot you and do it myself!

Archer blinks, cursing his concussion as he wonders where the last few seconds went in his mind. A soft click from the ground catches his attention, and he gingerly bends forward, reaching for the attention-drawing object with one leather-gloved hand. Rage briefly crosses his features as he looks at the face of the man who killed Kira, before he recomposes himself. Could be useful.

Back inside the Section Two van, Archer fires up his personal MAGI connection. When I catch whoever's responsible for this, you son of a bitch...

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr looks unsatisfied at some part of her answer, or maybe it's her reaction to him that makes him pull a face. After a moment, he eases himself back down onto the bed, looking over at Felix's stricken face.

"Section Two dropped the ball, that's for sure. I expected..." His stomach mutters a punctuation as Nasr breaks off his comment, and for a brief second he thinks about Kira's face landing in the food plate. "More."

The final word spoken more quietly, his hand reaching up to his neck, closing around nothing. The boy takes a ragged breath, and the silence that follows hangs over the room for a moment. "If we're going to be stuck in ICU for awhile, I need to know what time it is and which direction is east." Then, more urgently: "And I want my personal effects. Please." The last word is forced, part reluctance and part desperation.

[Spartan Altego]

Nasr/Felix

The doctor sighs. "Your orders are to remain here, and go back to sleep for the time being. Anything else is on hold until you're deemed fit for discharge, including debriefs." She points to her left. "That way would be east. It's currently six o'clock in the evening."

She moves closer to the pair, the guards remaining by the doorway. She places a single hand on Felix's shoulder gently. It looked like she had caught his reaction after all. "Alright, come on. Time to get those meds back in you. You've got to be in awful pain."

Archer

The results for the fake ID come up quickly enough; Micheal Westen, janitor at the local Ashcroft Academy, lived in an apartment in the low-income district of Valencia...307 Santis Avenue, was the address. He couldn't get a bead on what kind of forgery it was, or anything that might tip him off as to its maker, the sign of an experienced forger. He moves on to purchases, tracking the use of the card throughout the city; food markets, electricity recharges for the man's car...and cold packs and short-range radios, as of two days ago. Something was off, and an itching in the back of his mind was telling him there was more to this than met the eye.

[jaybird]

Archer blinks. What, was he trying to run a black op with arthritic senior commandoes?

Archer blinks again, as he recalls exactly what goes into a cold pack. A split second later, he springs up from his chair and begins to frantically dig through the first aid kit in the van. Holding up a NERV-issue cold pack and reading through the ingredients list, he can feel his blood slowly turn to ice water as his combat engineering demolitions course comes back to him. Ammonium nitrate. Oh, hell...

Slamming his fingers on the keyboard as he enters the Operations Director override commands, his voice is vitriolic enough to burn through an Evangelion's chest plating. "All NERV assets, prepare to receive Priority Tav orders, authorization 4-4-0 Foxtrot Alpha, activation phrase Digital Shadow." Steal my pilots. "Prepare for imminent IED threat via short-ranged radio signal. Implement total lockdown within a two-block radius of all explosions, nobody gets in or out." Kill my friend. "All critical NERV assets will deploy full spectra white noise jamming at full power." Attack my city. "You are green light to engage all targets deemed suspicious by the local commander. Shoot to capture if possible, terminate if capture is impractical or unlikely." I'm going to find you, dig you out of your holes, and show you just why you do not piss me off. "They came after our kids. If you think you might hesitate on your trigger, just remember that. They came after our kids." No mercy. No remorse.

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr's face falls at the doctor's statement, though it quickly solidifies into stone. "Thank you," he replies. Nasr promptly faces east and starts his routine for the evening prayer, but something about the doctor is nagging at him, as is the time lag. Six PM? We've been out almost a full day...

[Fernosaur]

Felix sighs, looking defeated. He takes a look at the other pilot. He hadn't looked very...shocked about it all, but the sudden change in his voice when asking for his personal belongings and gripping at his neck caught Felix's eye. It led him to think about his dad's cross, and rushed his hand to try and feel the pendant through his clothes as the woman put her hand on his shoulder.

It wasn't there.

He presses the fabric of the hospital gown tightly, the world finally collapsing on his shoulders, numbing him to the pain he had been keeping at bay for the last few minutes.

"Oh. No, I'm... I'm fine." He replies nervously, taking a look at his bandaged arms. It did hurt. A whole bloody lot too, but...

"Could you... could you bring us our belongings? Please. There's..."

He pauses. Then quietly continues, almost in a whisper.

"There's something I need."

What would he do if he lost it? Specially now?

[Spartan Altego]

Nasr/Felix

Kyrie nods. "We can have them brought immediately. And since you're out of bed already..." She turns back to the guards. "Bring their things and get these two something to eat. Make sure the food is halal-style."

One of them nods, and leaves, the other remaining in the doorway. The doctor gently guides Felix back to his bed, reinserting the IV needle into his arm. The pain slowly dulls, and his eyes begin to droop. She tucks him in, smiling. "Good boy."

She moves on to coaxing Nasr back into bed after waiting for him to finish his routine, the second guard returning with two separate baggies filled with their effects and two trays of food, minus the clothes they had been wearing when the gas bomb went off. Both boys immediately go for their things, the food set on their beds. Nasr notes that the implements are all plastic.

"Alright, the drugs will put you both back to sleep in about ten minutes. Eat a little bit, then get some rest," Kyrie commands not unkindly. "Doctor's orders." She leaves the room with the guards, doors closing shut behind them.

[Fernosaur]

The so very familiar weight of the cross on his neck gave him some relief, yes, but at the same time, the guilt was rapidly accumulating on it, as if the world was pressing down on his shoulders at the same time.

But at least it was there. Ah, yes, the comforting feeling of self-inflicted blame hanging below his head, as it should always be.

Felix didn't really say anything else to the doctor as she attended him, he just laid in the bed, completely limp. He only gave her a faint, sad smile. She was a nice woman after all.

He couldn't help looking at Nasr, though. His voice bouncing off the sterile walls of the hospital room, the song of his faith filling the air as the boy prayed and kneeled down. It was almost... hypnotic. His food grew cold, but he didn't notice. He couldn't take his eye off the prince as the events from the restaurant repeated over and over in his head.

The Major was dead now. For real. So was Agent Duwait, and Agent Ryuzaki. The feeling that they were left in a blank space sent a chill down his spine. He knew there was still a thousand Nerv employees to look after them and tend to their needs and demands, but the feeling of expendability he got from the thoughts just made it so much harder to bear. To think all those people could just... vanish, and do so while protecting them. What was the purpose of trying to be a hero to them, then? How could he?

He realized the boy on the other side of the room was actually the only tangible thing he could hold on to. The only real thing.

Felix grabs his knees with both arms and sinks his chin. In disappointment, he notices the pain was slowly going away.

Come back. I deserve it. Come back...

[Spartan Altego]

Nasr/Felix

Something was wrong (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TftzBctlpBE).

The boys awaken in unison from their beds, eyes fixing on one another once more from across the room. They could feel it in the air, in their bones. Someone...something, was here with them. Their eyes dart about the darkened room (when had the lights turned off?) with suspicious, nervousness, but they see nothing but nothing. Their dual gaze fall upon the exit door, the handle-less surface of it...wait. There was a handle on the door. They look up at the camera nestled in the corner of the room: it's gone.

Nasr's hand slides up to his neck, and then down his body, feeling for irregularities. Or the absence of his amulet. "Felix?" he murmurs. "You're awake, right?"

...What...what in hell is going on? Felix shifts on his bed, looking at the door handle, then at Nasr, also taking his hand to his chest to get a feel for the cross. "I am, Highness" he whispers back. "Are you okay? Where are we?"

"We were…moved?" Nasr sits up in bed slowly. "I guess when we were knocked out by the painkillers." He looks at the IV stand. It was completely empty.

For how long have we been here?

Felix rips the IV out of his arm and cautiously stands up, heading for Nasr's bed as if he was moving behind cover, leaning in to be closer to the prince's face. "Can you feel it?" His eye darts around the room, anxiously looking for... something.

Nasr unconsciously pulls back a bit from the other boy invading his space. But still… "There's something weird going on. I mean the room change aside. Something isn't…right." Nasr stands, pulls the IV line from his port, quickly removes the empty bag and tubes from the stand. "This is sloppy, even for NERV. I don't like it. We shouldn't be hooked up to super empty IVs." He picks up the IV stand, testing its weight. Felix stands between the door and the prince, sighing uncomfortably.

There was no other way around it.

"I know." He takes his IV stand and removes the bag and tubes as well, dropping them on the bed. He lifts it up, holding it as a staff, and starts walking to the door, finally putting his hand on the handle. He makes a pause, looking back at the prince.

"Take cover, Your Highness".

Nasr takes cover next to to the door. "If someone comes after you, fall back in here. We can double-team them."

The boy nods in response. A deep sigh. The silence was so... loud, it was unnerving. He slowly turns the handle, and begins pulling the door, eyeing the outside of the room...

Whatever the two had been expecting, they probably weren't anticipating the door opening to the sounds of...a forest (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pPWCkhulCn8&list). The open sky above their heads is cluttered with the tiny lights of stars. Trees stretch on for as far as their eyes can see. Grass crunches beneath their feet. When they look back to the hospital room, they see nothing but more forestland.

Nasr sucks in a breath. "What kind of black jinn magic is this…?"

Felix's eye opens bigger and bigger by the second. "What... what is going on?" he mutters, pulling the door completely. He looks towards both sides, his breath becoming slightly heavier. With a sign of his hand, he urges Nasr to follow him, and crosses the door, walking cautiously towards the forest, holding the stand high to his chest.

"Not magic." A voice proclaims from behind the two. "Magic isn't real."

Nasr whirls, brandishing the IV stand.

"Hi there." A pale, dark-haired boy (http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs9/i/2006/051/5/a/Shinji_Ikari_by_Shinji_Ikari_Club.jpg) greets. He blinks at the IV stand resting inches from his face. "Um...was it something I said?"

Felix rushes back to place himself between the stranger and Nasr, rising the stand as well.

"Stay back, your Highness..."

"Come on Felix, stop calling me that in front of everybody!" Nasr lowers the stand, slightly.

Felix jumps at Nasr's scolding, his expression visibly saddening a tad. "I-I'm sorry..." he whimpers.

The boy looks bemused rather than intimidated. "I can give you two a moment, if you want. No rush. My girlfriend likes to keep me housebroken, too."

"……….okay, first of all, no, it's not like *that*." Nasr flushes slightly. "Second….." Nasr just trails off as he looks around at the forest, making a motion as if to express, 'this!'

"If you say so." His hazel eyes seem dubious.

Felix tries to hide his blush by clearing his throat. He points the IV stand towards the newcomer, looking more intrigued than threatening. "Who are you? You look... our age"

"It's not! Like! That! Felix and I are…." he struggles to find a word for it. "He's my…bodyguard! But not in the way you're implying!"

Felix can't help but look back at Nasr. "What way is he implying? How could a bodyguard be *anything* else?" He lowers the IV stand a bit, perplexed.

"He thinks you're my…." Nasr flushes. "He thinks we're…dating." Nasr is beet red.

Felix stares at the prince for a moment. He... sort of did catch that, but he hadn't thought it was too important, until, uh... "Uh... Your Hi-- I mean... Nasr, you're uh..." he clears his throat again. Should he really mention how red he was? Then he could feel his cheeks growing warmer and warmer. He just had to look away, embarrassed. "We're not, uh, doing any of that." He assures this to the Asian boy. "I just, you know, take care of him. And stuff. HEY! Wait, you still haven't told us who you are!!"

"If you say so..." The boy coughs, attempting to hide his smile. "I'm Shinji, nice to finally meet you two." He claps his hands together. "So, we better just cut right to the meat of this. You are-"

The world shivers. Shinji's face has morphed into a puzzled frown.

Felix glares. "We are..?"

Shinji clears his throat. "You-"

The world shivers again. Shinji looks annoyed.

"Yeah, this is magic. I don't care what you say. That? That's bad magic."

"Wait, something's wrong with him."

"...Did you guys hear anything I just said?"

Felix lowers the IV stand and walks slowly towards Shinji. "No. Not really."

"You didn't really finish a sentence!" Nasr facepalms.

Shinji facepalms. "Well, there goes *that* plan." He mutters. Sighing, he looks up. "Okay, plan B."

"You can't say it?"

"No." Shinji shakes his head. "You guys seem to just forget it when I do. Goddamn SEELE and their mind-locks." He points behind them. "Gonna have to show you, instead."

"...SEELE?" Felix looks back at Nasr. His face was almost a big question mark in that moment.

"Mind-lock? SEELE? You mean the UN group in charge of Von Braun City and the orbital stations?" He points up at the sky. "Up-well, I mean."

Shinji's eyes have glazed over. He doesn't seem to register the pair's words. What's the first thing you remember? The words come from everywhere at once. Not spoken so much as felt.

Felix seems surprised. He quickly turns back to look at Shinji. "Did you do that?"

Shinji is gone (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DFHGrOjIZKo&list).

The forest is, too. They're in some kind of...laboratory?

"Are we hallucinating? Or is…could this all be an…A.T. thing?" Nasr mutters to Felix as he re-opens his eyes.

Felix starts backing down towards the prince. "W-what is going on?" After a pause, he turns to look at the other boy. "Punch me! If I'm tripping or something, I'll know!"

"Right." Nasr neither questions nor hesitates, merely winds back and punches Felix right in the stomach. It certainly felt real. With an "OOMPH", the redhead bends forward, gasping for air.

What air?

He's drowning. The orange fluid fills his lungs. He flails, fists banging against the clear surface of the tube. Nasr's wide eyes stare at him through the glass.

Where were you born?

Felix struggles, bringing one hand to his neck to ease the sensation, hitting the glass as hard as he could. For some reason, his thoughts could calmly understand the question. The answer popped up by itself.

In America.

Nasr moves to the tube, hands pressing against its surface, eyes wide. He starts to bang on it.

Wrong.

Nasr's hands bang against the surface of a tube...but not Felix's. He's sinking, the liquid rises up past his knees. Nasr's fists slam the tube as he looks for anyone outside of it.

In America!!

You and I were born from the same father.

That's absurd! You're Japanese, I'm Arabian!

Felix looks at Nasr's prison, dumbfounded. No. No, no, no, no. He starts slamming the tube with all his might, trying to shout for the other boy's name.

This bond goes far deeper than your superficial ethnicity.

Nasr takes a closer look at the liquid. "LCL…is this LCL?!"

Shinji places his hand gently against the glass of Nasr's tube. At the same time, he places his hand on Felix's. "It's home."

Darkness.

Archer

GRMM (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fElFtL_AVa0)

Things had proceeded smoothly following Archer's declaration of intent across the NERV channels. Communications across the city were being monitored with greater scrutiny than ever before, all daring to hope for a whisper of the wayward children. Security was working with the local police to respond to any IED threats or detonations at a moment's notice. The MAGI were locked down and being examined for hacking. Still, after three hours, nothing had changed. The pilots were still missing. Frustrated, but resolute, Archer returned to base to meet the latest addition to their search team, gift-wrapped and sent from SEELE themselves.

[Seventh Heaven HQ, The Commander's Office]

"Oh my. Letting the pilots be kidnapped and having one of your best security murdered all on the day of their arrival? I see you've grown dull in my absence, little sister." The words are cool, measured, and eerily similar to the voice of the Commander. Archer watches the two converse, eyes fixed on the woman in the dark NERV uniform.

Saya gives no response, her face set in a stony glare. The woman sighs. "You used to be so easy to rile up. A shame." She turns to Archer. "Is this the Major I've heard so little about?"

"He is." Saya responds. "Major Archer, this is SEELE's liason, Meguro Keiko (https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/39147041/AdEva%20Pictures/MeguroKeiko.jpg). She'll be assisting you in this operation."

Archer nods, the motion still sending a few spikes of pain through the back of his head. Absent-mindedly, he dumps the last two pills from the vial of painkillers into his hand and tosses them into his mouth, making a mental note to acquire more. "Good to have you here, Ms. Keiko." It's been a long day, and his body is screaming for him to pass out for a few hours. It shows as he briefly sways on his feet, not even acknowledging Keiko's jab at the Commander. "I trust you've been briefed on the current situation?"

"Indeed." Keiko replies, brown eyes looking him over. "You're unwell. You should rest. I can't have your drug-impaired judgement hindering the operation and deal with your exhaustion both."

"I'll rest when I'm dead," Archer responds stubbornly. "My pilots are in danger, and-" A sudden wave of nausea hits him, and he barely manages to hold in his dry retching in front of the two women. "...alright. Commander," he turns to address Saya, "where's Agent Duwait being held? I should check up on her."

"She's in the high-priority medical ward, on the third level down. I presume you know the way?"

Nodding, Archer turns to leave the office. "Let me know when something comes up, Commander." As he staggers through the halls of NERV, he doesn't even notice the wide berth that everyone gives him. The battered appearance, the expression on his face, and the current situation add up to a very large, neon pink sign reading "KEEP AWAY UPON PAIN OF PAIN" floating behind him for anyone who's seen Archer lose his temper.

Opening the door to the high-priority ward, Archer drops his hands forcefully on the counter at the nurses' station. "The biggest bottle of codeine you've got, and the location of Agent Duwait's room." Neither of those sounded in any way like

The bottle is handed over without argument. "Room 32B, south hallway."

Tossing a few of the pills into his mouth, Archer half-marches, half-limps down the south hallway. From behind, the nurses can see that his uniform jacket is nearly torn in two, with a large rip covered in both blood and ashes running from right armpit to left hip. The door to room 32B clicks open slowly, and Archer exhales, unconsciously fighting off visions of broken teenage bodies clad in army green lying side by side on field hospital cots.

She's sleeping soundly, hooked up to various machinery and bags of painkillers. Her uniform is gone in favor of a loose-fitting hospital gown, which serves to show off his muscular form....and the various scabbing cuts and bruises that marr it. Her left arm is wrapped in a cast.

"Agent Duwait," Archer murmurs, dropping down heavily in a chair next to the bed. "Well, that didn't go as well as planned." An understatement of the year. Between his exhaustion and the painkillers, he can't even feel the pain shooting across his back when he leans into the chair. "At least you're still alive. Kira, well..." his jaw tightens. "I've got Section Two going through the city with an atomic force microscope with shoot to capture orders." A slight flicker of a smirk crosses his face. "If you don't get better quick, Lorena, I'll hog all the torturing to myself..."

Lorena cracks an eye open. "You'll do no such thing." She croaks.

Archer sags with relief, dropping his forehead onto the bed. "Oh holy ****, Lorena..." whatever else he's about to say fades off into an indeterminate murmur as he loses consciousness the instant his body falls into a position even remotely resembling one fit for sleeping. His head falls squarely into Lorena's chest.

The woman frowns, wiggling slightly. "You're not going to get away with this just because I'm crippled." She growls. Archer gives no response.

"I mean it."

Archer begins snoring lightly.

"..."

Lorena sighs, and rests her head back. Well, at least her chest was warm, now.

[Spartan Altego]

Nasr/Felix

Gasping and sweating, the boys awaken once more in the blank, familiar hospital room, their hearts racing, mouths still recoiling at the phantom taste of LCL. There's nobody else with them, but their old trays of food have been replaced with new ones, and their IV and painkiller bags refilled. The horrific sensation of being trapped, drowning, still lingers in their thoughts.

And that black haired boy, who had called himself Shinji...who was he? And why were they both dreaming about him? Their questions are many, and they have no one but each other to voice them to.

Archer

Archer awakens to the sensation of something very warm and very soft pressing against his face. He can hear the strong, repetitive drummings of a heartbeat thumping soothingly through his ear drums. Someone's arm is draped across his back, loosely clutching at his side. He struggles to remember where he is, even as he loses himself in the relaxing sounds and sensations of...who was he laying on, again?

He blinks, and slowly cracks open an eye.

Lorena's own amber set stares back at him, left eye twitching. "Finally." She twitches slightly, face a mixture of annoyance and some other, more nebulous emotion. She quickly withdraws her arm from his back, frowning at him. "Get off me before I break my cast off on your nose." She pauses in consideration, adding. "Sir."

[Fernosaur]

Felix shoots upwards on his bed with a gasp, looking for a reassurance in his surroundings that he was actually not drowning inside a test tube.

"A...a dream?" he mutters, looking at the hospital room.

But the sound of his own gasp had been echoed by one of Nasr, and as he looked at the prince, he saw that he was soaked and panting as well. It couldn't be...

He tried to get up from the bed, but the movement made the feeling of his clothes pressing against his skin because of the sweat very evident, and this led him to notice his breathing getting heavier. The mix of the two made him... uneasy. So, so, so very uneasy. Topped by the vulnerability from such an invasive and confusing experience was starting to make him very anxious.

"It will be our little secret."

His heart pounds faster as the words come to his head and immediately go away. Slightly panicked, he pulls at the gown repeatedly, trying to lighten the feeling of filthiness that was suddenly overcoming him. He had to wash himself. Quick.

No, no. Don't think about this, you can't get *bad* right now. Think about the prince, think about what happened. Focus. Focus. Ask him if he's okay. Do it. Do it.

"Y-your Hi- I mean, Nasr..." He pants. "Are you alright? D-did you..."

He had to make a pause to catch his now shallower breath. "Did you see that too?"

His demeanor didn't look normal, not at all.

[jaybird]

Archer blinks once, twice, three times. No...not a dream. Oh boy. A smirk plays across his lips. "You know, there's just so many other contexts in which 'Sir' could be used..." He stretches, cracking his neck and wincing slightly at the headache that the motion causes. "Besides, you wouldn't hit a sick man, would you?" Not damn likely, she could probably break my nose with that cast.

Deciding that discretion is, after all, the better part of valour, Archer slowly slides off Agent Duwait and sits up, one hand blindly groping for his bottle of codeine.

[Whiskeyjack]

Nasr sits bolt-upright, drenched in sweat. His eyes cast around wildly, seeing the room but not taking it in. Suddenly the boy is wracked with a coughing fit, though it produces nothing. Nasr gags slightly, wiping at the icy sweat with the bedsheets.

"I...I..." Nasr manages. "I had a nightmare," he says, eyes suddenly aware of the security camera. "That's it. Saw what? What're you talking about?" He gives the other boy a Look before turning his attention to the IVs attached to each of them. "What, is NERV pumping psychedelics into us now?" he says irritably.

Nasr reaches for the bottled water on the tray to rinse the taste out of his mouth. "Ugh..." He looks over the food and takes a small taste, his stomach rumbling loudly the second food hits his tongue. The Arabic pilot turns his attention away from Felix to the food, his eyes glancing around occasionally, seeing if this room really is the exact same as their "real" room.

[Fernosaur]

"Y-you had a nightmare." Felix repeats.

Of course, what else could it be? Maybe they were both having similar dreams, it must have been a coincidence that they woke up at the same time. "No, nothing. I just had a nightmare too... Never mind."

He looks at his hand, covered in bandages, and still trembling. Whatever it had been, he hadn't been trapped inside that test tube, and Nasr wasn't drowning either. That had been it, a nightmare, nothing more. He pulls at his gown once more. And again, and again. Filth. Filth, so much filth.

"I, uh... I have to... I have to go to the bathroom." He stands up, ripping the IV out of his arm and making a beeline for the door with robotic, awkward movements. He puts his hand against the flat door, trying to push it outwards.


But it didn't move.

A nervous smile twitches in his face, his fingers idly looking for a way to pull the door instead. Of course, he found nothing. No handle. No pushing. He scratches at the border of the door, trying to pull it with increasing desperation.

Open up. Open up, bloody hell, open up!

"Open up!" he roars at the door, backing away two steps and kicking it. Anxiety was making the sweat cold, now more evident through all of his body. He had to get out of there. Right. The hell. Now.