Let the ones who will come after us
Judge our actions as written henceforth.
Let they know of what transpired
So that it shall never be forgotten.
Let them learn of our sorrows
So that they will never be repeated.
Let them know of our triumphs
So that they will be inspired.

You, who embark on the quest for knowledge
Heed our warning and forget it not,
Submit not to destiny or you will be lost.
Listen not to the lies of the unjust
Who seek to prey on the misguided
As was proven before us and against us.

Seek us or fear us, He once said;
We lived and died by these words.
Those without strength we aided.
Those with strength we watched.
By the grace of the Eternal Lord,
In Nomine Dominus Nos Tueri Dignus.

- First words of the Codex Longini, recorded circa 329AE


In the beginning, there was darkness.

It was only broken by the millions of distant stars sending but a tiny fraction of their light over distances so large the human mind can barely comprehend it.

And then the calmth was broken by a giant mass of rock barreling towards the nearby planet.

As it closed in on its unsuspecting kill, any observer standing on the planetoid's surface would have seen the multitudes of lights rapidly fading in and out of existence around the bluish planet. Yet these weren't like the peaceful stars seen elsewhere.

A sudden change in viewpoint reveals the true nature of the anomaly: hundreds of thousands of craft engaging each other in a deadly battle. The ever-present debris clouds evidenced high casualties at both sides, yet more continued to arrive for the ones descending from space.

Suddenly, several enormous figures appeared from the planet, led by one clad in ebony black armor and wielding a similarly large red spear. These new arrivals crashed into the ranks of the attackers, instantly vaporizing several dozen of them. Behind the battle, blocky craft were fleeing the atmosphere in a feverish hurry to escape their doom. Yet their sudden resistance was futile: nothing they could do was capable of stopping the dark stream of quadrillions of ships across the thousands of lightyears between the planet and the galactic core. There was nothing left in their path: every world they consumed made them ever stronger.

They were like locusts: strike one down and a thousand replace it. Against a foe which dominated dozens of universes, there was no war. There was no victory.

There was no hope.

The leader of the new arrivals signaled and nine of its comrades broke off the fight, assuming a hexagonal formation. At first, nothing happened. Then sharp eyes could pick up a faint distortion forming around them briefly before they erupted into an ennead of golden spheres that slowly expanded towards each other before settling into a hexagonal graph full of and surrounded by a network of paths and glyphs.

The leader appeared to contemplate these events before bringing the spear forth and concentrating, releasing it's own power. The dual prongs of the spear started resonating, black lightning arcing between them before it united and lengthened into a blade of energy even longer than the spear itself. Visibly strained, the wielder lifted the weapon and thrusted it into the graph, releasing a massive shockwave that rocked the entire battlefield.

At this point, the attackers realized that their efforts were in danger, their enemies would escape before their fate befell them. In an instant, they broke through the lines of the battle and charged towards the graph which expanded into a massive vortex-like anomaly. Their time running out, the escapees rushed into the portal one by one. Their warrior companions kept retreating, losing more and more of their number but content in the fact that they could not be stopped now.

As their numbers decreased, the defenders still kept fighting until only a handful remained. As the last of the escapees disappeared, the leader retrieved his weapon, sealing the portal. A wave of relief washed over the survivors; their efforts were not in vain. Their joy however quickly turned to grief as the planetoid impacted, sending a deadly firestorm in every direction. The few seas on the surface instantly evaporated and the clouds disappeared as the very earth split open. The web-like patterns of cities were one by one engulfed, each sending a pillar of light into the dying atmosphere that slowly branched out at the end into a cross-like shape. When it finally ended, the entire planet was glowing hot, the surface molten. All that remained were the crosses that hung silently, like a memento to the billions of lives extinguished.

All this were witnessed by the participants of the orbital battle who briefly stopped fighting. Once the destruction was complete, the defenders slowly turned towards their enemies, their minds filled with sorrow that quickly turned into murderous rage. One by one, they lifted their weapons and charged, safe in the knowledge that the last survivors of their race were safe. One after another, they died in a blaze of plasma fire, each taking thousands with them before going down.

Soon, only the victors were left. They floated over the burning planet for a few days, destroying any and all signs that the defenders ever existed.

Thus, the genocide of the Seraphim race was complete.

Then nothing.

And from the nothing, the voice came.

"What you have seen was… not meant for mortal eyes. It was the echo… of a long-lost age not remembered by the newer… generations. And yet, it is also a… warning, of things to come. It has happened before… and will happen again… unless a right choice is made. Choice… life is all about choices, is it not, young man? Even though you do not… believe that… people… should be reserved to making the choices… expected from them. I do admit that striving for the… unobtainable has its advantages… but that is for you to decide. The right man in the wrong place will make all the difference… in the world. All I can ask of you is… when the time comes… make… the right… choice. Some of those who came… before you did. Others… well… that is not my place to say."

[Main title: 戦略的サイボーグエヴァンゲリオン – 第一韻文: 起源編]


Tokyo-2, Inner District 5
September 25, 2041
0742 hours

"Scheiße Scheiße Scheiße, verfickten Scheißt!" – huffed the teenager running on the path towards school. - "Why the hell do I have to be late always when I'm in a hurry?!"

He took another turn and started sprinting even faster, barely managing to dodge the few pedestrians in the way. The startled bystanders quickly gathered themselves, looking after the boy in mild surprise; not at the fact that he was in such a hurry but at him not making much of an effort to hide it. Japanese always kept a focus on personal dignity and unlike the other sectors, Japan didn't see much relocation during the Occupation, leaving the population largely homogeneous. Lacking such a thing immediately betrayed him as a gaijin.

Some time later, the last students filing in Tokyo-2 Second Municipal High School's gates were almost knocked over by a humanoid blur speeding onto the building. Said blur stopped and leaned at the wall, looking at his makeshift watch.

"Alriiiight, 0755!" – He pulled out a somewhat crumpled letter from his bag. "Now where's..." – He was interrupted by the distant sound of screeching tires. – "Huh, probably nothing." – The sound however repeated, this time overlaid by a loud droning. – "Sounds like someone's screwing around with some high-gear machinery." - While internal combustion fell out of favor shortly after the Uprising, a true revolution of electric engines ensued that humanity's surface traversing needs were again fulfilled. Aside from the lack of need for specialized fuel, electric engines don't need oxygen to operate, hence their usefulness remains for offworld use. The only "disadvantage" was that unlike their more primitive counterparts, electric engines lacked the telltale roar that made enthusiasts drool in delight.

He barely managed to catch sigh of a dark something before the other gate was rammed violently open.

The students quickly hurried out of the way as if they were doing this every morning, leaving the culprit - a black sports bike - to slalom between them and corner into the parking lot. It finished up with a sharp drift and arrived exactly into an empty slot, just barely missing the parking cars.

"Flashy..." – he remarked to himself.

The scattered youth made annoyed grumbles and headshakes, glaring at the driver before continuing their journey. The driver slowly and methodically disembarked, giving the boy a good look. While slightly shorter than he was, the driver's true height was rather hard to tell due to the helmet and long, black trenchcoat. 'Cool. I gotta ask that guy where he got that... not that I'd have my own any time soon.' he thought wistfully.

Unfastening the helmet (he noted the pale, almost white fingers), the stranger slowly lifted it off, giving the boy another surprise.

'That's an… unusual hair color.'

Without turning around, the biker keyed a lockout code into the bike and reached into a pocket, pulling out a pair of shades and flicking them open. 'The tough guy type, are we?'

The subject of his thoughts finally turned around and headed inside, almost giving him a double-take as he noticed one additional detail. While the reflective shades made it somewhat hard to tell, the smooth facial shape encased by the unkempt blue locks was definitely feminine, further reinforced by the coat's front opening slightly and revealing a black tank top over a rather generous (for a 14-year old, anyway) chest.

He couldn't help but whistle appreciatively which briefly drew a glance from the girl. She regarded him silently for a moment before minding her own business.

'Quite a hottie. There were no such girls back home- well… I guess this is my home now, thanks to that asshole. Fucking bastards... couldn't even let me bring my stuff with me, could you? Ah, I gotta look around when I get the time... see if there's a scrapyard nearby. That damn alarm probably needs somethin' replaced.'

He suddenly realized he was about to be late before the commotion just now. - "Aw, shit!"


In the end, he made it. After delivering all the paperwork to the principal's office and boring his head off pretending to listen to the man's greeting speech, he was directed to a specific classroom to begin school immediately. He was quite unhappy at not getting some grace period or something as he never really cared for school; the way he saw it, studying was only good if you wanted higher education or a well-paying job.

He had no illusions about either.

"Hey-o, who's that Horaki guy?"

"That would be me" – answered a freckled girl with pigtails on his right. He never saw anyone of that age with that hairstyle before; the only ones he remembered were all little girls who looked somewhat goofy.

"I've been told to look for you."

She nodded. – "Ah, yes. Nagisa, right?"

"Yup. Sorry I'm late."

"It's alright; I'm Hikari Horaki. I'll introduce you in a moment."

As she turned towards the class, he interrupted. – "Don't bother, I'm not some celebrity. Have a free seat anywhere?"

She looked over the classroom before answering. – "There's one behind Ikari; will that do?"

His gaze followed her finger... and settled on a blue-haired figure in black clothing, staring out of the window without a care for the world. 'Classmates with that biker chick... oh joy.'

"If you don't mind me asking..." – Hikari started, drawing his attention back onto her. – "Why did you transfer?"

He made an annoyed look. – "Wasn't my choice, had some problems in my previous school."

"Problems, as in...?"

He sighed. – "Long story short: pissed off the wrong people and got kicked out. Never mind that the little prick deserved it."

Hikari made a sour look. – "You mean you got into a fight?"

"Hey, I couldn't help it!" – he protested. – "I don't care whose kid he is, that was no way to behave for a true man!" – he announced, drawing quite a bit of attention to himself.

Hikari shut their snickering up with a single look. – "Really, now... just try to avoid a repeat performance."

"Yessir!" – he grinned with a mock salute as he went for his seat, ignorant of the annoyed expression on her face. As he passed near the blue-haired girl, he didn't notice her briefly looking at him with mild but clearly present surprise.

The boy didn't even sit down properly before a voice greeted him from behind. – "Oi! You a new kid?" – It was evidently the local big guy.

He knew the type: the ones on the top of the food chain. Cross one and you can expect his personal army to gather around you faster than you can say 'aw, crap'. Such boys were omnipresent and had only one criteria when it came to determining ranks: might and money makes right.

He was disgusted at the whole concept.

"Yup."

"Name's Tōji Suzuhara." – They shook hands, instantly raising the boy's opinion of his peer. Where he came from, being courteous was considered a sign of weakness. Everyone who showed just a little bit of compassion painted himself as a target. Eight years of experience taught him that; he lost count how many times he had to beat off opportunistic bully wannabees until they decided to simply ignore him.

He thought he was out of that world but recent events proved him wrong. Maybe this time... – "Nagisa. Kaworu Nagisa."

The jock raised an eyebrow at the name. – "Ya Japanese?"

"No idea." – Kaworu admitted with a shrug.

That was the exact literal truth: he noticed early on that he had a unique name when compared to the people around him. In the dingy little elementary he spent the last eight years in, the kids had all sorts of names: mostly German and Hungarian but some French and Slav ones as well. Nothing even resembled his own; even the teachers were stumped.

His parents weren't any help in that department either for the simple reason that he didn't have them.

"'No idea'? What the hell does that mean?"

Kaworu sighed. – "Long story."

"Suzuhara!" – came Hikari's indignant voice, visibly startling the adressed boy. – "Stop harassing the new kid! If he turns out like you, I'll know who to look for!"

"Iinchō!" - the boy protested. Kaworu didn't know what that word meant but had a clue.

'What did she say she is, class representative? We don't have those back in Austria. Must be some local thing.'

"She won't let us live like this; meet you on the roof after class." – Tōji assured as he retreated to his playground behind.

"Sure."


NOTICE - started rewriting this season because in hindsight, I screwed up so many things I'm outright ashamed how crappy my work was back then! Now that I have more writing experience, I will steadily clean up things and correct the pacing.

For those who started reading just now: welcome! Like I said, this fic is under rewrite and reformatting so don't be discouraged by the low quality this early on; this was my very first fanfic ever. I did some major changes to the planned plot well after writing this so I'm also going to throw out any plot holes I can find. Kaworu's characterization was slightly different this early on; I'm fixing him into the very-slightly-smarter-than-he-looks-like-but-not-o verpowered guy he's supposed to be.