/ \
| Teineina Tenshi No Teze |
| (Kind Angel's Thesis) |

A Ranma ½, Neon Genesis Evangelion Crossover.
(The theme song to the NGE series is "Zankokuna Tenshi No Teze" or
"Cruel Angel's Thesis")

Neon Genesis Evangelion and all character belongs to Gainax
Ranma ½ and all characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko
No copyright infringement is intended.

Thanks go to my pre-reader:
Kevin D. Hammel http://www.anime.sobhrach.com/~khammel/

Please distribute this work free, unaltered and crediting the author.
[email protected]

(Story 1)

Ranma looked out at the driving snow for the hundredth time and cursed
Happosai. He knew that it was not productive, and he knew that it would
not accomplish anything, but it did make him feel better, and it made
the soft voice that only he heard fade into the background.

No-one doubted that Happosai had bitten off more than he could chew
this time. Not only had he set himself against every Martial Artist in
Nerima, he had also summoned a demon. Happosai's problem was
fundamentally the same as every other time that he tried to get
revenge: he failed to read the instructions properly on his instrument
of vengeance.

It was a dark and stormy night when the demon arrived. Do not
misunderstand, the weather was in no way responsible for the demon, in
fact, the reverse was true. As soon as Happosai had held aloft the
magic crucible, and began to chant the words of summoning, the weather
had closed in. It took almost an hour for the summoning to be
completed, but the caster was protected from the outside world by an
impenetrable barrier.

Given the stunning and completely unsubtle effects associated with the
summoning, Ranma, the Tendos, Cologne, everyone - even lost boy Ryoga -
found their way to the Tendo dojo and watched the summoning in action.
In the middle of the dojo the small man stood, an expression of fear on
his face.

Even as he spoke, one of his hands clawed at his lips, attempting to
stop the words of evil. No matter how he tried, he was as much a victim
of his spell now. No-one could penetrate the barrier. Ranma's Ki-
blasts, Ryoga's bakusai tenketsu or Cologne's myriad special attacks
she had never even revealed before. No matter what they tried, the
barrier remained unaffected: looking like a millimetre thick wall of
green glass.

It almost seemed as though some anthropologist had decided to create a
new exhibit: Homo Erectus Happosai. Place of origin: Nerima, Japan.
Favourite item: women's underwear. Often found clinging to women's
breasts (or the breasts of people cursed by the Nyanniichuan: you only
had to look and feel right).

No-one present could doubt the terror that Happosai was now feeling.
The old pervert's eyes stood out on his head as though he had not
touched a woman in a week, and sweat poured down his withered body as
he fought to protect himself from his own actions.

Ranma shook himself and tore his mind away from the images in his
mind's eye. There was nothing to be gained by thinking about the
horrid, messy, painful and undignified way that Happosai had died.
Lifting his head from the window, Ranma stared around the small cabin
and realised what had caught his attention: they were no longer moving.

Standing up, Ranma grabbed his extra thick jacket, pulled on his over-
pants, pulled down his head gear and stepped from the motorised
caravan. Outside, the air was frigid and clear, his breaths puffing out
in white clouds as he looked around.

White. Everything was white. Over in the west, the sun hung slightly
above the horizon, gently laying its light on the land, but none of its
warmth. Only another two or three months and the days of constant
darkness would set in, turning Antarctica from a white wasteland to a
grey wasteland. Shuffling through the heavy snow, Ranma walked up to
the second vehicle in the convoy and stood in the glare of the

"Why have we stopped?"

"Fuel pump's clogged. Looks like a couple of hours work."

Ranma just went 'humph' and walked away. He knew he was not wanted
there. Hell, he knew he was not really wanted on the whole mission, but
he was here. Here because he needed to be, and here because Nabiki's
influence was enough to get him on the trip he needed.

Turning his back on the stalled convoy, Ranma headed into the
whiteness. Just a short walk in the snow, that was all he needed. He
was going stir crazy sitting in the van all day; not only that, but he
felt he was getting soft. Fighting with Akane, or any of the other
martial artists he knew, kept him at an unbelievable level of fitness,
and unless he jogged besides the snow tractors for several hours each
day, he could feel his edge eroding.

Even as he walked he could hear the faint voice in his mind. The voice
that assured him that this was the right thing to do, the he was here
for all the right reasons. The voice did not actually say that; it only
begged him to come closer, and offered him power to defeat his foes.
The reason he knew he was doing the right thing was this was what
Cologne had suggested with her last breaths.

The demon had shattered the barrier with a light tap of its... its
claw, or tentacle, or whatever it was. Still with bits of Happosai
dripping off it, it had stepped into the dojo proper. Immediately the
fighters had taken their stances, and Kasumi and Nabiki had run for the
house. Both girls - actually everyone - were a pasty white colour. What
had happened to Happosai was not something that you would wish on your
worst enemy. Ranma knew that visions of his death, and the sounds of
his screams would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.

The wood underneath where the demon stood hissed slightly, and small
tendrils of smoke curled up. Even something as inanimate as the dojo
floor rebelled at the pure evil that the demon represented. Lifting its
two arms, it smashed a hole in the roof and spread its wings.

"Free! Free at last. Two thousand years of torment are over. I shall
never be defeated again!"

Before any of the people could try and stop it, the demon leapt
straight up, and smashed it's way through the remainder of the roof. As
the rain poured in, lightning flashed and the martial artists ventured
forward. This was a new turn of events; usually whatever hideous
monster that Happosai consorted with wanted to torture Ranma or teach
him a lesson or something.

Those willing to stand in the rain were close enough to see the demon's
curling flight that took it up into the sky and away from the mortal
fighters. Only when it was high enough, it suddenly stopped, spun in
place and dived back to the ground.

When the demon crashed into the dojo, wood and bodies flew everywhere.
Lifting himself off Akane, Ranma looked at the demon. This was more
like the behaviour that he expected. First would come the challenge,
then the fight. After he won, and was suffering something awful, Akane
would misinterpret something he would say and beat him with her mallet.
That was the way things went.

"Which one of you is Saotome Ranma?"

Ranma could remember the cocky way he acknowledged the demon's call
that day. He was such a fool. Even then, after seeing what it had done
to Happosai, after seeing the ready way that Cologne held herself, he
still answered it with a head filled with too much ego, and not enough

"I'm Ranma. If you want me: try and take me."

The demon laughed again. Hindsight brought tears to Ranma's eyes that
froze immediately. Hindsight showed him what a fool he was.

"I am He-That-Is-Known-As-Kim-Since-His-Real-Name-May-Not-Be-Spoken. I
am the greater demon of pus!"

Somehow it was a sickly image to comprehend, a demon whose realm of
power was pus and mucus and that sticky stuff you find under sores. On
the other hand, it did seem to be entirely appropriate for the demon.
It was big and was that sort of unhealthy grey colour that your leg
gets when you've let the gangrene develop for too long (don't try that
at home kids, this demon is a professional).

The demon spat a large blob of something yellow at him, and Ranma
nimbly dodged aside. As it coughed up another load it looked at him.
"Haaaaaaark! Mmm, a chewy one!" *Spit*. "Now that I've gotten that off
my chest... Feh! Humans have no sense of humour. Anyway, as I was about
to say: I don't want to fight you. The spell that summoned me
specifically keeps me here until you die. So, you can just relax."

None of the martial artists relaxed in the slightest. They were not the
sort to be taken in by such simple tricks as an outright lie. The demon
shrugged its shoulders and moved forward for the attack, obviously it
had not really expected them to believe it either.

The strange thing was, they later managed to figure out that it was
telling the truth. Mousse was the first to go down, but that was only
because the demon was interested in Shampoo. It did not take long for
the demon to snag the pretty Chinese girl, and when it used one of it's
smaller arms to start to grope her ample chest, Mousse went berserk.

It was easy enough to see that Mousse died from the demon's attack.
Very few people can survive long without a head attached to their body,
and that was one trick Mousse had not mastered. Despite the best
efforts of everyone involved, it only took three minutes for the demon
to toss Shampoo, Ukyo and Akane into small glass prisons. During the
fight, the demon easily evaded most of their attacks and seemed to
absorb those attacks that did get through.

The worst - most insulting - thing for Ranma was the fact that the
demon refused to even engage him in proper combat. It was always
circumventing his attacks by placing Cologne or Ryoga in the way... or
even worse, it would place the prisons which held the girls between
them whenever he was preparing to throw a Ki blast.

The fight basically ended when Ryoga got thrown through the concrete
wall around the Tendo's compound. The blow itself could hardly have
hurt him, but it was on the far side of unlikely that he would be able
to return within the next two days, let alone two minutes.

Now faced with one less opponent, the Demon chose to skewer Cologne
through one lung with a long thin finger. That foolish move cost the
demon its hand - which was the first real injury that they had managed
to inflict. However, its attack had cost them their best fighter.

Kicking at the snow, Ranma brushed a tear from his face as he thought
of those times. It wasn't a tear of sadness - he could never care for
the old ghoul that much, could he? - it was just a tear from the wind.
The wind and nothing else. The was no way he could be weeping for the
old ghoul, not after he had seen Shampoo...

Oh look! Someone was jogging out to him from the convoy. Turning back
to the halted vehicles, he thought of what the old ghoul had told him
before she died. Back when she had lain in his arms, blood pooling on
the ground, Shampoo's screams now hoarsely blanketing the background.

"Son-In-Law, this one you cannot win. Not now. Not with what you know.
If I had another five years to train you, you could have won. But not

Cologne closed her eyes gently coughed some of the blood out of her
collapsed lung. "Shampoo is dying like an Amazon, dying in battle,
there is no greater honour."

A spasm ripped through her body, they both knew she was saying that to
try and ease the emotional pain she felt. Pain worse that her fatal
injury. "Avenge her, Ranma. I know you would not make her your bride,
but you love her enough for this. Avenge her death."


And that was when she told him. Told him everything that brought him
here today. Three thousand years of Amazons had held the secret of the
heavenly warrior, buried in the ice. Three thousands years of lore had
recorded something that was ancient before the Amazon tribe was even
formed. Three thousand years of word of mouth was his only hope for
saving Akane and Ukyo.

Somewhere in the Antarctic was an Angel. A messenger from Heaven. A
harbinger of the world to come. And it would speak to the most
powerful, the most talented, the most gifted, the most corruptible.

Legend said that the Angel could speak to the minds of the strongest of
people. People who had developed themselves beyond the norm, people one
step closer to the Angel that the rest of mankind. These people could
hear the Siren's song of the Angel: an offer of the power that it held.

That was why Cologne told him. The Angel's power was the only hope this
side of his suicide for stopping the demon, and Cologne loved Ranma
like her own - slightly foolish and errant - great grandson. She did
not want to see him die, and she knew that he had the honour and moral
strength to use the Angel's power for good or not at all. So she told
him all the details she knew. They were scant, but they should be
enough to find the Angel. Once he was at the southern continent, the
words in his mind should be able to guide him.

Cologne passed away in his arms once he agreed. Taking only enough time
to close her eyes, Ranma sought out someone that could help. If he was
too weak to defeat the demon now, he would need to get the Angel's
power. To get the Angel's power, he needed to be in the Antarctic, and
he knew only one person who could arrange that: Nabiki.

In all honesty, she had worked a miracle. In under thirty-six hours he
was in the heated cabin of a mobile truck convoy destined for a
scientific post almost right on the South Pole. Both Nabiki and the
Katsuragi Expedition were miracles in his book. After four days of the
fastest travel possible through the storm ravaged, icy landscape, they
were almost there. Soon he would be able to return to Nerima. Soon he
could rescue Akane, Ukyo, maybe even Shampoo. She was still alive and
in agony when he left Japan.

A flurry of snow gusted past and he could see it was time to end his
trip down memory lane. The man from the convoy was almost on top of
him, offering a small sheet of white paper, shouting over the biting

"Saotome-san! We got this on the radio! It came though a bit garbled,
but we think we got it right! I'm sorry!" The radio operator had taken
a slight liberty with the wording of the note. It would hardly do to
tell the poor guy his sister-in-law's actual message. "...We all knew
the demon would go for Akane soon, but her time is up. Only an Angel
could save her now. Please come home soon." He didn't know why this
'Tendo Nabiki' would choose such a heartless way to express the demise
of her sister, but he had softened the blow a little.

Shaking with fear, Ranma's trembling hands held the note. 'What was he
sorry about?' The way his eyes kept misting up made it hard for him to
read the note. "Ms Tendo Nabiki regrets to inform you of the passing
away of her sister, Ms Tendo Akane. Sincere condolences, etc."

"Nooooooooooo! AKANEEEEEEE!!"

To protect, to rescue or to avenge.

Three options and only one left. Reaching for the Angel's mind, he
turned and ran straight for it. A day or two at the most, then he would
return to Nerima and end this demon's life... slowly.

The radio man watched their passenger run off into the snow, trailing
tears and screaming like one of the dammed. If this was how he took a
well worded message, how would he have taken the original. Shuffling
through the snow, the radioman reported to the expedition's leader that
their passenger had run off.

Eventually the decision was made: Dr Katsuragi would stay in his
crawler with his sick daughter. Since it was broken anyway, he would
need time to repair it. The rest of the expedition would head after the
foolish lad at best speed. If they could find him tonight, they might
be able to save his foolish life before he froze to death.

Twenty eight hours later, Ranma stood above the Angel. He knew it was
there, under the ice. He could feel it. For the last day he could feel
it's power keeping him warm. He could feel the need for revenge
providing a purpose in life. He could feel it so strongly, he wanted to
reach out and touch it. But there was only one way to get through this
much ice in a short time. Only one thing that he could do. Calling on
every reserve he had, inadvertently and unconsciously siphoning
whatever power he could gain from the Angel, Ranma went to work.


* * *

Shinji sat on the train and stole furtive glances of Ayanami. He could
not understand what she was thinking, she was always so quiet. Even
after what had happened this morning, she had not even said a single
word on the subject.

Shinji looked at his hand, slowly opening and closing it. It almost
felt as though he could still feel Ayanami's warm skin under his hand.
Warm skin, cooled from the cold showers that she said she took, but
warm and soft... Smooth. Smooth and nice. He glanced down the train
carriage at her and flushed as he saw her red eyes looking at him.

With a burning face, Shinji tried to think where things had gone wrong.
It had all seemed so easy when Misato asked him to deliver Ayanami's
new ID badge. But then her door had been unlocked, and he had looked
inside for her. Her apartment had been a mess, so when she had appeared
from the shower - wearing a small towel across her slender shoulders
and nothing else - he had been flustered and tripped.

That would not have been too bad, but by this time she was right next
to him, so when he fell, he took her too. Down on the floor, their
faces only inches apart, bodies even closer. Shinji flushed again just
thinking about it. It was the closest he had ever been to a girl,
especially one as nice as Ayanami. Naturally he had struggled back to
his feet, gibbering and mumbling like a fool.

Ayanami had just lain there, looking for all the world like she was
trying to decided whether or not to repaint the ceiling. The fact that
she obviously did not care if he saw her small, pert, firm.... No,
Shinji! Don't think about that! Shinji said he was sorry a dozen times
and ran out of the door, waiting for her until she was dressed.

The treatment he got from her on the way to the train would have been a
cold shoulder from anyone else, but from Ayanami it was almost
talkative. She had not only responded to every question he had, she had
even deigned to use three words in a row once!

No matter how chatty she was, it was still his problem. Throwing
oneself at almost naked young ladies was not the done thing in Japan.
It was certainly not the way two NERV pilots acted together, even if
they were classmates in High School. How on earth could he possibly
apologise to her properly? She must think he was some kind of pervert


Shinji's head up and he looked around for who had spoken. But... the
carriage was empty. Just him and Ayanami, it was not as though she
would actually start a conversation. Was his guilt making hear voices


It... It was Ayanami. She was speaking to him. Of her own violation. Of
her own free will. She had even started a conversation. Coughing
slightly to hide his confusion - his amazement - he looked at her.

"Y- yes?"

"Ikari-kun. You have piloted the Evangelion now."


Shinji waited. He was not sure what she wanted to say to him. They both
knew he had piloted the Eva; it had been his first day in Tokyo-3.
Ayanami had been too badly injured to pilot it, so his father had
forced him to. She had even been in the control room when he had been
doing synchronisation tests since then.

"What was it like?"

What was it like? What sort of question was that? It was like being
drowned alive when they flood the entry plug with LCL. It was like an
image of hell fighting the Angel. It was pain unbelievable, something
he had never experienced before.

"I- I hated it."

Perhaps that was not the answer she was looking for. Then again,
perhaps it was. It was very hard to read the bright red eyes that
stared unwavering at him. Shinji squirmed slightly under the gaze.

A minute passed in silence, broken only by the sound of the train on
the tracks.

Shinji cleared his throat. Having a conversation with Ayanami was hard,
no matter who started it. "How was your first time?"

Ayanami blinked slowly and Shinji cursed himself for a fool. 'Well
done, idiot. First you throw yourself on her this morning. Now you ask
a question like that? Idiot!'

"Do you hear anything since Unit-01 went berserk?"

Shinji shrugged. "Just the usual sorts of things. I mean, my hearing is

The train pulled into the station, they got off and began the short
walk to school. Ayanami turned to look at him. "Sometimes I hear a

That stopped him. "A voice? Do you mean you hear a voice in your head?
Something no-one else can hear?"

They had almost reached school by the time she spoke to him again. "Can
you hear it now?"

Shinji strained his ears. "No... Just the other kids at school... Is
that what you mean?"

"Then you are right. It is a voice no-one else can hear. I do not
believe that this is part of the specified response to piloting the

Before class started, Shinji asked her a question and dashed to his
desk. He knew that she would pick up the thread of the conversation
during the break. After all, class was only an hour, that would almost
be a normal paced conversation.

The break between lessons came and Shinji was surprised to see Ayanami
standing beside his desk. "No. It doesn't tell me to do anything bad.
It usually just cries. Or asks for hot water. I think it sleeps a lot."

"Hot water?"

A nod.

"Well, that doesn't seem too bad. Just so long as it doesn't tell you
to start killing people or anything."

Shinji smiled. Ayanami was probably just feeling the same sorts of
things he was, she just was not as used to listening to her feelings.
Shinji knew he often felt like crying when he thought about having to
pilot the Eva again.

Rei nodded again. She may have smiled, but that just could have been a
trick of the light, it was hard to tell.

Time passed school ended. Ayanami Rei said nothing more on the subject.
Ikari Shinji assumed that it was closed. Life in Tokyo-3 continued,
waiting for the arrival of the fifth Angel.

* * *

Ranma awoke and immediately felt happy.

It was dark. He was naked. He was in the bath. He had no idea whose
bath he was in.

He was alive.

End Of Chapter