The Trash Returned from Warhammer

Whoosh—

The engines roared as the massive fleet turned from north to south, quickly returning from the harsh climate of the ice fields to the scorching, unbearable heat of the Japanese archipelago. Meteorology, in this day and age, had practically ceased to exist.

Because the situation had changed, and Angels could arrive one after another at any moment, Shinji didn’t dare to linger abroad for too long. Besides, he had no interest in the Russian military’s victory party—a group of burly men from the North downing bottles of vodka, and he was still a minor in this body.

He glanced at the people sleeping soundly in the cabin. These past few days had been rough on Misato and the others. They had rushed off in a frantic hurry and then traveled back without a moment’s rest, having hardly slept at all. Working under Shinji meant that ordinary people had to shed two layers of skin.

Saving the world was never a simple job.

Shinji rubbed the space between his eyebrows. Without that steel body, he felt exhausted, but as the person pulling all the strings from behind the scenes, he couldn’t afford to rest.

This trip was highly significant; it had virtually confirmed the ”Emperor’s Conjecture” and yielded some additional gains. If Ritsuko Akagi’s theory was correct—that an Angel’s upper limit was directly proportional to its development time—then they could only be thankful that there were few ”old” Angels left within the framework of the Dead Sea Scrolls.

Even ”chickens” like the Angel of Day and the Angel of Rain had extremely high ceilings; that was, after all, the result of ten thousand years of accumulation. It was only because the will of the Negative Universe hadn’t possessed such capability at that time that they were weak.

Otherwise, it would have been hard to say if Unit 01 could have handled it, and the grass on Rei and Asuka’s graves would already be three meters high.

”It’s a good thing I never planned on fighting a war of attrition and giving these new Angels time to develop.”

Shinji turned his head and looked at the F-15 fighters escorting them outside the window, calculating another gain. As an Astartes, he never did anything as simple as traveling thousands of miles just to kill a monster; every step had to yield multiple benefits.

’By confirming the ”Emperor’s Conjecture,” I have also gained the ability to freely deploy Unit 01, which is enough to smash the tortoise shells of those old men.’

That’s right—that was another gain. The report had already been submitted, and presumably, SEELE was currently in a panicked meeting.

New Angels that broke the numerical framework of the Dead Sea Scrolls—the term ”endless” was a devastating blow to those old men. Unlike ”Gods,” they didn’t have infinite time, and the existence of an unknown number of Angel embryos was an inherent threat.

In the past, Shinji could have quietly slipped away to handle some matters, but Unit 01’s target signature was too large; it couldn’t leave Tokyo-3. But now, having laid the groundwork, he could finally take the initiative.

”If I say now that there are Angels hiding on the other side of the ocean, Chairman Keel will probably be begging me to go deal with them. As for where the Angels actually are—isn’t that for me to decide?”

Shinji placed his hands on his abdomen and squinted, feigning sleep. Everything was set in place.

Just then, a ringtone startled Ritsuko Akagi awake. She moved Misato Katsuragi’s leg, which was draped over her lap, and answered the call, quickly snapping to alertness.

”SEELE has passed the proposal. The remains of the Third, Fifth, and other Angels will be sent to headquarters. They are demanding I confirm the conjecture immediately.”

”It’s obvious. SEELE wants the answer more than anyone right now.”

Shinji wasn’t surprised at all. He added casually, ”Dr. Akagi, you are more important than anyone else right now. Since the E-Project, SEELE has started needing you again.”

”Isn’t that because of you? It’s only with your conjecture that I can go find clues. I’m just following a map to find the treasure.”

Ritsuko said, buttering him up as usual. Just as she wanted to move closer, an arm wrapped around her neck. She turned her head to see Misato Katsuragi drooling at the corner of her mouth.

’Are you actually asleep or not?’

”Misato’s sleeping posture really is abysmal.”

”Mm, I’m used to it. Her apartment used to be like a dog kennel. Even now, she still washes her stockings and underwear together. No matter how much I tell her, she won’t listen.”

Shinji snorted. Seeing Ritsuko Akagi’s eyes curve into a smile, he couldn’t help but frown.

”Is it funny?”

”No. I just feel like Misato and these people give you more headaches than the Angels do.”

”True. After all, you can’t educate them with a bolter.”

Shinji joked, then asked nonchalantly, ”Sometimes I feel just like my father—always failing to teach these unruly children.”

”Perhaps that’s the reason Misato is attracted to you.”

”Hm?”

”Nothing. I just feel that in your story, the role of ’father’ is very important. Perhaps you’ve subconsciously started acting it out.”

Shinji froze, then fell into deep thought. Every time he chatted with Ritsuko Akagi, she always hit the nail on the head. Her words served as a reminder to himself.

’That’s right. Is 40K not the most vivid example of ’Fatherly love as mighty as a mountain’?’

The Primarchs are the fathers of the Astartes; the Emperor is the father of the Primarchs and all of humanity. The crusades of the Blood Ravens were, in a sense, a quest to find their father—constantly searching through ruins just to figure out who their Gene-Father actually was. And that cataclysm of the 30K era was essentially a struggle between a father and his wayward sons.

The Emperor wasn’t a good father. He was too rational and cold, to the point of losing emotion and humanity, indirectly triggering the Horus Heresy.

A thought inexplicably popped into Shinji’s mind. He sat bolt upright as if struck by lightning, warily scanning his surroundings. There were no Inquisitors shouting ”heresy,” yet he was covered in cold sweat.

’I actually had such an unfaithful thought—how blasphemous.’

But that wasn’t right; the libraries didn’t contain many details about the Heresy. How could I have had such an unprompted thought?

He was stunned, just like that inexplicable fondness he had for that specific dish earlier—things that weren’t in his memories but were etched into his soul as instincts. He grew suspicious.

’Were these memories from before I returned? Secrets the great Emperor told me personally in the Imperial Palace on Terra? Is the old man actually that approachable? Inviting me to eat stir-fried rice noodles and chatting about family?

Damn it. I’ve tried so many times to dream like that again, but failed. Just give me the answer!’

Shinji finally understood how agonizing it was to read a ”cliffhanger” story as Misato would put it. What was the point of a half-finished dream? Meanwhile, Ritsuko Akagi next to him was already dumbfounded.

She didn’t understand that a casual remark had triggered such a massive reaction in Shinji, one that contained a level of agitation and self-doubt ten times more intense than the shock of an Angel attack.

”Shinji-kun, are you alright? Perhaps I can help you analyze it?”

Shinji instinctively opened his mouth, then clamped it shut. These thoughts were too blasphemous to even recall, let alone speak aloud to others.

”You can’t help with these things. Forget it. Let’s get back to the topic. Write the report for SEELE truthfully. Then, I’ll send you a coordinate. Camouflage it and package it as an Angel signal.”

’Alaska First Branch?’

Ritsuko Akagi looked at the coordinates and immediately knew what Shinji was laying the groundwork for. That was the storage site for the Spear of Longinus and the EVA mass-production models.

”Isn’t this a bit too early?”

”Chairman Keel is quite clever, hiding in the safest place in the world. In terms of combat power, the First Branch is even stronger than Tokyo-3.”

”So you’re dealing with Chairman Keel. I thought you were going to forcibly trigger the ritual.”

Ritsuko realized she had misunderstood. She rubbed her smooth cheek with her finger. ”But he’s hidden in the deepest part of the First Branch. There’s no way to bypass those things. Once discovered, SEELE will just forcibly initiate the ritual. Doing it so rashly might not necessarily open the Chamber of Guf.”

”If I make a move, he won’t have the chance to launch any plan. You should know—it was never SEELE who controlled those mass-production models.”

”Kaworu Nagisa!”

Ritsuko Akagi realized it instantly, but she found it bizarre. She couldn’t understand why the most pure of Angels would help Shinji. These two should have had zero contact.

”Don’t ask. I don’t know what that Kaworu Nagisa is thinking either. Perhaps the pursuit of freedom itself is something uncontrollable, which is why humanity must use rules and discipline to bind it; logic must remain within the framework of benefit.”

Shinji didn’t want to delve deeper into philosophy. He changed the subject:

”It’s just that after this time, I’ve realized SEELE is becoming dangerous. It’s time to let them exit the stage. Since it’s a game between two sides, the script cannot strictly follow my will—watching me collect all the conditions and open the Chamber of Guf.”

”You mean...”

Shinji turned his head, his dark eyes making Ritsuko Akagi feel cold from head to toe.

”Don’t forget, humans are also descendants of the will of the Negative Universe.”

-

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-

The heavy transport plane landed at the airport in Tokyo-3. The red lights of the elevator flashed as it transported Unit 01 and the group underground. Shinji was quite satisfied with this fortress city—it had entrances and exits everywhere, making it easy to reach the core zone quickly.

As he looked up, he saw Ayanami Rei and Asuka waiting there. Oh, Kensuke Aida was there too. The three of them in school uniforms stood out amidst the group of people in uniforms. Looking further up, Gendo Ikari was also there. When he saw Shinji on the elevator, he seemed to have something to say but stopped, silently turning away.

”Ikari-kun, you’re finally back.”

As soon as the elevator locked, Ayanami Rei greeted him. She looked at Ritsuko Akagi, whose expression was extremely unsightly, and asked worriedly: ”Was the operation not smooth? What exactly happened?”

”It was very smooth, but we reached some unpleasant conclusions. It doesn’t matter; I will handle it properly.”

Rei was still uneasy, but before she could ask more, Kensuke Aida rushed up excitedly, asking questions like ”Was the Soviet submarine base spectacular?” and ”Did you see the Akula-class nuclear submarine?”—questions she couldn’t understand.

The military geek was beating his chest in regret. If he had known, he would have gone along. He heard there were deep-sea giants like the Typhoon-class nuclear submarines there—a twenty-thousand-ton displacement! What a magnificent human creation.

It wasn’t until Shinji presented a souvenir he had obtained from Vice Admiral Vakanov—a hammer and sickle badge—that Kensuke left, completely satisfied.

”That idiot finally left. You have no idea—I’ve been driven crazy by this military geek these past few days. He kept trying to drag me to the shooting range.”

Once the bystanders were gone, Asuka immediately started complaining. Without waiting for Shinji to lecture her, she held out her hands.

”What are you doing?”

”A gift! You gave him a gift, so you didn’t bring us any? Bringing gifts back from a business trip is common sense, right?”

’Common sense in which world?’

Shinji didn’t have that kind of ”common sense.” Besides, there was nowhere to buy anything in that frozen hellhole. He glanced at Ayanami Rei, who was also looking at him with expectation, and had no choice but to rummage through his messenger bag.

”This is a local specialty I picked up—er, they gave it to me. Here you go.”

The two looked down to see two blue-and-white striped shirts in their hands.

”What kind of local specialty is this?”

”You wouldn’t know it, but they have a little jingle there.”

Shinji cleared his throat, reciting the words the Vice Admiral had said while dead drunk:

”Wear the soul of the sea, board the plane, tonight we’re airdropping into Los Angeles.”

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