THE EVANGELION MATRIX
Yet Another Parody
By Benjamin Donnelly
Ripped Shamelessly from "The Matrix" by the Wachowski Brothers
Characters Mostly Stolen From "Neon Genesis Evangelion" Hideaki Anno
THE USUAL DISCLAIMER: Right, you know the drill. I don't own "The Matrix," the Wachowski Brothers and Silver Productions do. Probably a good thing; there wouldn't have been those shadow effects on Trinity if I had made the flick. "Neon Genesis Evangelion" is the property of Gainax, Hideaki Anno, and virtually every other animation studio in Japan. C'mon, there's like five minutes of credits before "End of Evangelion"! Oh yeah, and all the other anime that shows up in this one way or another is also property of those creators and animation studios that they respectively belong to. This is a work of parody, and terrible parody it is.
AUTHOR'S INANE RAMBLINGS: For those of you who care, I am still continuing my oh-so-serious "NGE Evolution" story for when I actually have gotten plenty of sleep and did not spend the last six hours playing "Soldier of Fortune" and "GTA Vice City." So go read that if you want something serious, deep, and philosophical. If you want to laugh your butt off or just look horrified at what the Mad Irishman hath wrought, stick around.
The cell phone rang insistently.
Then was picked up. "Yeah?"
There was no word of greeting from the female voice at the other end, just "Is everything in place?"
"You weren't supposed to relieve me," the male voice said.
"I know, but I felt like taking your shift."
"You like him, don't you?" The male laughed softly. "You like watching him."
"Don't be ridiculous," the female shot back.
"You're gonna look funny with my foot up your ass, Kaworu."
"Promises, promises." The male turned serious. "We're going to kill him, do you understand that?"
"Morpheus believes he is the One."
There was a pause. "Do you?"
"It doesn't matter what I believe," the female sighed. "He's the Commander."
On a computer screen somewhere in cyberspace, random numbers scrolled down the screen in a sickly electronic green. Eventually, ten numbers appeared above the scroll, and the computer beeped. ARTEMIS TRACE COMPLETED. The trace program clicked audibly on the line.
"You don't, do you?" the male taunted.
"Did you hear that?" the female replied instead.
"Are you sure this line is clean?"
"Yeah," the male answered, surprised. "Of course I'm sure."
"I better go," the female replied. The line clicked off.
Heart of Tokyo-3 Motel
13 June 2020
The hallway of the motel was dilapidated and in terrible need of repair. Wires dangled from the ceiling, wires that led to nowhere–the lights in this section of the old motel did not work. Only the desperately tired or the desperately poor ever came to this section of the Heart of Tokyo-3.
Or simply the desperate.
The battle-armored policemen moved down the hallway, submachineguns drawn and at the ready, the only illumination coming from the spots attached to their weapons. They moved hesitantly, but confidently–there were eight men and women in the squad, and only one target.
The point man knelt just short of the door, turned, and nodded to the squad behind him. The burliest of them rushed forward and slammed into the door. It splintered easily under his weight, and as he rolled to his feet, the rest of the squad came in behind him. Eight spots and laser sights centered on the back of the young woman sitting next to a laptop computer. "Freeze! AD Police!" the point man yelled. "Hands on your head! Do it now!"
The young woman raised her hands and obidiently put them atop her red-brown hair.
Outside of the Heart of Tokyo-3, three squad cars and an armored personnel carrier were drawn up in a semicircle around the entrance. The officers and drivers lounged around the vehicles, waiting. A few looked over as a black, unmarked sedan drove around the blinking police-line indicators and came to a stop.
The doors of the sedan opened; almost simutaneously, three women stepped out. They were each identically dressed, in severely-cut suits, blood-red bowties, and dark sunglasses–despite the fact that it was after midnight, and this section of Tokyo-3 was rather dark. The only way the three could be told apart from one another was the color of their hair, and their hairstyles. Two were blonde, one was brunette; the blondes differed in that one wore her hair free to the small of her back, held in place by another black bowtie. The other, who strode purposefully towards the detective in charge of the operation, wore her hair in two very long pigtails, tied up by two dark orbs. "Detective," she sang out with an edge of irritation.
"Oh, shit," the detective sighed. He threw away his cup of tea and met the woman halfway.
"Detective, you were given specific orders," the woman said without preamble.
Detective Leon McNichol had been up well over fourteen hours, and truly disliked any sort of interference, especially government interference. "Hey, I'm just doing my job, Miss Serena. You give me that juris-my-dick-tion crap"–he spit the words as if they tasted bad– "you can cram it up your tight ass."
Serena sighed. "The orders were for your protection."
McNichol smirked. "I think we can handle one little girl..." Serena and the other two women ignored him and walked towards the entrance to the Heart of Tokyo-3. "I sent a full squad," McNichol shouted after them. "They're bringing her down now."
Serena stopped, and turned around, with just a hint of contempt. "No, Detective. Your men are already dead."
The point man stepped forward, slinging his submachinegun over one shoulder as he pulled a pair of handcuffs from one pocket. He walked towards the young woman, reached out, and grabbed her right wrist.
In a blur, she spun to face the policeman. He had a brief glimpse of a rather attractive woman with icy blue eyes. Her longcoat had come open, exposing what looked to be body armor of some kind, colored bright red. It was the last clear image he saw as she grabbed his outstretched arm with one gloved hand and smashed into the arm from below with the other. The bone snapped audibly and the policeman screamed in pain. The rest of the squad pressed forward, but the girl was already moving. She leapt directly into the air like a crane and lashed out with a red-booted foot. The policeman with the broken arm was caught underneath the chin and flew backwards, smashing into one of his comrades.
The girl had moved so quickly that the remainder of the squad were still realizing they were under attack. One woman raised her submachinegun, but the girl, as she landed, kicked the room's sole chair directly into the policewoman's face, and she dropped backwards.
Another policeman opened fire, spraying the back of the room with bullets, but the girl simply, impossibly, ran up the side of the wall and came down in front of him. She grabbed the submachinegun and turned it around, her fingers on the policeman's as they tightened on the trigger. The policeman at the door was blasted back through it under the impact of the armor-piercing bullets. The girl whirled even as the last bullet left the gun and rammed her elbow into the policeman's stomach. As he doubled over, she snapped her left foot up and rammed the toe of her boot between his eyes. The policeman went down like a poled ox.
Quickly, the girl looked around her. If any of the AD Police squad was conscious, they were being very quiet about it. "Schiesse," she growled. Quickly going back to the table, she picked up her cellphone and dialed a quick number.
"Operator," a voice said.
"Morpheus, the line was traced. I don't know how."
"I know," the voice on the other end said. "They cut the hard line. There's no time; you're going to have to get to another exit."
Fear welled up inside the girl, though she would never admit it. "Are there any Scouts?"
"Schiesse," the girl repeated.
"You have to focus, Asuka. There's a phone at Takahashi and Tezuka. You can make it." The last words were meant to be encouraging, and they helped.
"All right," she sighed.
Asuka clicked the phone off and tossed it aside. She shucked the longcoat, exposing the two pistols she carried in twin shoulder holsters, and jogged out the door of the room.
The elevator at the far end dinged. Asuka snapped her head around and saw that it was filled with more AD Police–and one woman dressed in a dark suit. She did not hesitate. She turned and ran for all she was worth. The woman in the suit was hot on her heels, followed by the rest of the police.
Asuka tore around one corner and dashed up a stairwell, shouldering through the door to the fire escape. She glanced at the alley, and there was another Scout, another with blonde hair. Can't get out that way, she thought and ran to the roof, sprinting across it. A glance behind told Asuka that the Scout and the police were still there.
Asuka saw a small gap coming up and easily leapt across it. So did the Scout and all but one of the AD Police; the last man in line missed and racked himself on the side of the building. Leaving him behind, the chase continued up and down corrugated rooftops. Asuka slid down one roof and turned left; the Scout behind him stopped. "Venus Love Me Chain!" she shouted, but Asuka, ducking, dodged the attack. It did leave only one route open, however, but Asuka never hesitated. The gap between the buildings was easily eighty feet.
There are no rules, she remembered. Mama is with me!
Asuka took a deep breath and jumped. For a moment, she hung suspended in space, but then she came down hard on the opposite roof, rolled, and came to her feet, still running. She ducked behind a chimney.
The Scout didn't even take the second of hesitation that Asuka had. She simply leapt and landed, her blond hair billowing behind her.
The AD Police skidded to a halt; none of them were getting paid enough to try that jump. "That's impossible," one of them puffed.
The Scout slowly stood, searching for her target. Asuka glanced around the corner; the two girls locked eyes for a moment. This is bad, Asuka thought. I'll never get out with a Scout standing there... She looked in front of her. A single window shined with yellow light in the distance, an impossible distance away. She would have only one chance, and that was assuming that the Scout behind her didn't get her first. But it was a chance, and that was more than she had against the Scout.
Asuka dashed forward, ignoring the sound of the Scout readying her attack behind her. She came to the edge of the roof.
There are no rules.
Asuka threw herself forward, arms outstretched, legs clasped together, a red arrow. She twisted in midair, closed her eyes, closed her fingers into fists, and prayed.
The window shattered around her, and Asuka rolled down the stairs painfully, her plugsuit absorbing most of the blows. She rolled up against a wall and drew both pistols, aiming them for the window, expecting the black-suited Scout to come tearing through after her at any second.
Nothing happened. A second became two seconds, then three.
"Get up, Asuka," she told herself. "Get up. You have to get up." And she did, ignoring the pain. She limped down the stairs as fast as she could and went out the nearest door she could find, expecting a Scout at every turn. None came, and she spotted the telephone booth at the corner of Takahashi and Tezuka.
So did someone else. As Asuka walked towards the phone booth, a garbage truck rolled past and suddenly slammed onto the brakes, skidding around. Asuka got a glimpse of long pigtails. Oh schiesse... Asuka sprinted for the booth as the phone began to ring. The garbage truck's motor roared and it left a trail of burned rubber as it raced towards the booth. Asuka won the race and grabbed the phone. She turned to see the garbage truck's grille filling her vision.
The truck smashed into the booth, tearing it apart and grinding it beneath its heavy wheels, smashing its remains into the side of the building. The truck's driver waited until the masonry quit raining onto the roof, then pulled back away from the hole in the building.
Serena shut off the engine and stepped out of the truck, walking towards the crushed wreckage of the booth. There was no body, not even a bloodstain.
"She got out." Serena saw Scout Mina arrive, her suit coated in dust from the rooftop chase.
"It doesn't matter," Serena replied.
"The informant is real." Scout Raye looked down at the wreckage.
"We have the name of their next target," Raye added.
"The name is the Third Child," Mina said flatly.
"We'll need a search running," Serena said.
"It's already begun."
13 June 2020
The apartment was small and somewhat Spartan, but that was how Shinji Ikari preferred it. It was mostly well-tended, except for the scattered bento lunches and cans of soda that kept Shinji going.
Usually, anyway. Shinji was sound asleep, sprawled across his keyboard, a snot bubble alternately expanding and retracting from his nose. (Hey, it is anime, folks.) On the screen was a search program that had been running for the past three hours, moving through the various news search engines. All of the articles found, in various languages, a mysterious figure in black, with tinted sunglasses, a man known only as Morpheus, or the Commander.
Suddenly, the screen went blank. Green letters appeared, scrolling across it: WAKE UP, THIRD CHILD...
Shinji didn't notice.
HEY, BAKA. I SAID WAKE UP.
Shinji's eyelids fluttered and he slowly came awake. He blinked and looked at the screen. "Mmh...what?" he mumbled sleepily.
THE ANIMATRIX HAS YOU.
"The Animatrix?" Shinji was not quite awake yet.
NO, THE OTHER ONE. THE EVANGELION MATRIX.
"What the hell?"
FOLLOW THE WHITE CABBIT.
"Follow the white rabbit?" Shinji pressed Control-Alt-Delete. Nothing happened.
NO, STUPID. CABBIT. WHITE CABBIT. WELL, ACTUALLY, IT'S SORT OF GRAY...
Shinji hit Escape. Nothing. "It's Windows Me, that's got to be it," he said.
KNOCK KNOCK, THIRD CHILD.
Shinji nearly jumped out of his seat as someone knocked on his apartment door. It sounded more like they were attempting to kick it in. He looked at the door. "Who is it?" When he looked back at the screen, the words were gone.
"Yeah." Shinji blinked, rubbed his eyes, and looked suspiciously at the bottle of Faygo on his desk. He got up and walked to the door, looking through the peephole. It was indeed Tenchi Masaki and the rest of his retinue, all females. Some guys have all the luck, Shinji sighed to himself, and opened the door. "You're two hours late," Shinji said by way of greeting.
"I know," Tenchi sighed.
"It's her fault," the purple-haired girl to Tenchi's right snapped, pointing at the cyan-haired girl that was glomping onto Tenchi from the right.
Shinji ignored them. "You got the money?" Normally he was more polite than this, but the sudden awakening had left him surly.
"Two grand," Tenchi assured him, and pulled a wad of yen from his back pocket.
"Hold on." Shinji shut the door and turned to a shelf of books. Pulling out a dogeared copy of The End of the Circle, he withdrew from it a CD. He opened the door and handed it to Tenchi, who grinned at it. "Hallelujah," he said. "The complete Samurai X–"
"Ruroni Kenshin," the girls instantly corrected him.
"Oh yeah." He grinned at Shinji. "You're my savior."
Way too early for religious symbolism, Shinji groaned inwardly. "That's the uncut version," he warned Tenchi. "You get caught watching that by Toonami..."
"Yeah, I know. This never happened. You don't exist," Tenchi nodded.
"Something wrong?" Tenchi asked. "You're usually wimpier."
You're one to talk, Shinji groused. Instead, he looked back towards his blank computer screen. "My computer, it..." He shook his head, looked back to Tenchi. "You ever have that feeling where you're not sure if you're awake or still dreaming?"
"All the time," Tenchi said. "It's called GXP. It's the only way to fly." Tenchi smiled. "It sounds to me like you need to unplug. You know, go out." He turned to the girl still glomped onto him, much to the other girl's consternation. "What do you think, Ryoko? Should we take him with us?"
Ryoko looked Shinji up and down, giving the distinct impression she was either measuring for a straitjacket or a bed, or both. "Definitely," she said.
"Miss Ryoko! This is an outing for us! You can't just be inviting anyone along," the other girl spluttered.
"Ah, stick a sock in it, Ayeka–" Ryoko growled.
"No, I can't," Shinji said, trying to calm things down. "I got work tomorrow."
Ayeka beamed triumphantly. "There, you see, Miss Ryoko? He has work. He has responsibilities, unlike someone I know!" She contemptously turned her back on Ryoko. Ryoko stuck her tongue out and tossed her hair, exposing something riding on the shoulder that had been blocked by her tresses. It looked up at Shinji. "Miya?" it mewed.
Shinji's jaw dropped. It had the big ears and build of a rabbit, but the face and gray fur were unmistakeably a cat's. It was a...cabbit.
"Come on," Ryoko grinned toothily. "It'll be fun. I promise."
Shinji nodded slowly. "Yeah...sure. I'll go."
Club C'est La Vie
14 June 2020
Shinji looked around the club and wondered how he had ever allowed himself to talk himself into this. He was not the club type. He had never been much with girls. As a matter of fact, except for cello and computers, he had never been much with anything. Growing up under the care of his grandfather, those had been his only real solace. His mother had died when he was very young, and his father had simply disappeared. Shinji had vowed to find his father, and find the truth. It was out there.
He noticed someone was staring at him. He turned and saw a very attractive woman, about nineteen, the same age he was. She was wearing a yellow sundress, her reddish hair brushing the tops of her shoulders, pulled up into ponytails by red plastic hairclips of some sort. She smiled at him. "Hello, Third Child."
Shinji was a bit taken aback at that. "How do you know that name?"
"I know a lot about you."
"Who are you?" The girl looked very familar to Shinji. He knew her...but from where, he had no idea.
"My name is Asuka Langely Soryu."
"Asuka." He thought for a moment. "The Asuka Langely Soryu? The one that cracked the Magi d-base?"
Her smile widened. "That was a long time ago."
"I just thought, um...." Shinji paused. "I thought you were a guy."
Asuka hit him. "With a name like Asuka?"
"I said something wrong," Shinji said, getting up from the floor. "I can tell."
Asuka sighed. "Most guys do, though...where did I go wrong..."
Shinji decided to change the subject. "That was you on my computer. How did you do that?"
Asuka shook her head and drew closer. Shinji's heart began to pound as she got very close, and put her lips near his left ear. He could feel her breath on his cheek. "Right now all I can tell you is that you're in danger. I brought you here to warn you."
Shinji blinked. "Of what?" he asked.
"They're watching you, Shinji."
"Who is?" Shinji quickly grabbed a bar napkin and held it to his nose.
"Please just listen. I know why you're here, Shinji. I know what you've been doing."
"Well, I'm not really much of a dancer–"
"Not that. I know why you hardly sleep, why you live alone, and why night after night, you sit at your computer."
"Um...that's not my hentai, honest–I just download it for friends–"
Asuka slammed his head back into the wall. "Dammit, hush! You're looking for him. I know, because I was once looking for the same thing." She sighed again. "And when he found me, he told me I wasn't really looking for him...I was looking for an answer. It's the question that drives us, Third Child. It's the question that brought you here. You know the question just as I did."
"Just what the hell is a cabbit?" At the look of imminent homicide in Asuka's eyes, Shinji held up his hands. "Sorry...just a joke...you mean, what is the Animatrix? The other one, the Evangelion one."
Asuka nodded, and faced him, so close he could smell her hair. "The answer is out there, Shinji. It's looking for you. And it will find you, if you want it to..."
He leaned closer–to hear her, or maybe to kiss her instead. The music's pulse grew louder, more insistent, more shrill...
Shinji abruptly sat up on his futon. He looked around him in shock. Asuka was gone. The club was gone. He was back in his apartment, and his alarm clock was screaming at him.
"Not 'Stagefright'!" he shouted aloud, and slammed his hand down on the clock. It stopped singing. He got up and began throwing clothes together. He was already eighteen minutes late, and his boss at ConHugeCo was never too thrilled about that.