God Eater fanblog

To be further edited in the future.

Novels/short stories

Days of ruins:

Soma

Alisa

Kota's unfortunately seems like lost media. See post here for more info

Official artwork

Moonlight mile:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Those Who Break Taboo TBA

Alisa in Underworld TBA

Knockin' on Heaven's Door TBA

GE online TBA

GE3 (might've been translated already by @devilofthehounds if it's a different story I will translated) TBA

General info/artbook translations:

Official port logos from God Eater 3 and their meanings

https://en.namu.wiki/w/%EC%98%A4%EC%98%A4%EA%B5%AC%EB%A3%A8%EB%A7%88%20%EB%8B%A4%EC%9D%B4%EA%B3%A0

Now while overall the wording, spelling and grammar of the whole page is…MESSY, it does show two sections related to Alisa in Underworld and Knocking on Heaven’s Door! I just wanted to share this to you as it is quite interesting to find and I thought you would find it pretty cool, even if the whole page is messy as hell.

I've known about this site for a while, but yes the English is really messy! I think it's originally Korean?

Regardless, both Alisa in Underworld and Knocking on Heaven’s Door are on my list! And while I know my upload schedule is rather slow, I am actually working on Knocking on Heaven’s Door and Those Who Break Taboo (which so far I don't think is good at all, but hilariously it does reveal Lindow sleeps around, to cope with the world, but still.)

Also, from what I know at first glance, Knocking on Heaven’s Door is basically Burst but different! It is, in my opinion, a lot more interesting. SPOILER:

There's a scene that actually focuses a bit on how people are doing after the Ark project, which I really wished the game had done some more as well.

A Cold Dining Table

November, 2065

In the glow of the morning sunrise, Nightingale 104 touched down on the den heliport.

It had been roughly thirty-eight hours since their departure.

As Soma and the others disembarked, a girl burst out from among the maintenance crew and threw herself at Lindow. She looked about fifteen or sixteen. She wore a mission operator’s uniform, her black hair cut into a short bob.

“Hey—what’s wrong, Sakuya?” Lindow asked, flustered, gently gripping her shoulders.

“Thank goodness…” The girl called Sakuya murmured, her large eyes filling with tears, clearly relieved from the bottom of her heart.

They’d received word about eighteen hours earlier that Soma’s team was alive—but it seemed she hadn’t truly believed it until she saw them with her own eyes.

That was only natural. Anyone who heard that people left behind at the epicenter of a fusion reactor explosion had survived and believed it without question would be the strange one.

“See? I’ve still got both feet,” Lindow said lightly, trying to joke as he peeled her off.

Sakuya frowned and lightly pounded his broad chest. “Don’t joke about that.”

She then turned to Tsubaki and bowed. “I’m glad you’re safe too, Tsubaki.”

“We worried you,” Tsubaki replied with a gentle smile.

Lindow glanced sideways at Soma, who stood silently with a heavy expression, and muttered, “We couldn’t bring everyone back alive…”

Soma kept his gaze forward, clenching the ring tightly inside his coat pocket.

Perhaps sensing the mood, Lindow pushed Sakuya forward until she stood directly in front of Soma.

“Soma, this is Sakuya—my and my sister’s childhood friend. She’s a rookie mission operator. You’ll probably be seeing her a lot. Be nice to her.” 

“So you’re Soma,” Sakuya said brightly. “I’ve heard about you. Becoming a God Eater at such a young age—that’s amazing.”

Amazing? Soma averted his eyes.

“I wanted to become a God Eater too, but I couldn’t find a compatible God Arc…” she continued. “I really admire you. I’ll do my best to support you, so let’s get along.”

Lindow placed a large hand on Sakuya’s head and gave it a few friendly pats.

“See? She’s cute, right? You two are close in age—why don’t you start dating?”* 

“L-Lindow!?!?”

Sakuya shoved him in panic.

Soma had no intention of humoring this kind of banter. Without a word, he turned toward the elevator.

“Ah—Soma,” Sakuya called after him.

“You’ve been summoned to the branch director’s office at 1800 today. Lieutenant Fitzroy, the adjutant, asked me to pass that along.”

Soma stopped and turned back.

“…Who?”

“The branch director’s new adjutant—Second Lieutenant Cordelia Fitzroy. She said you should get plenty of rest until then.”

The adjutant Soma remembered had been a man. There must have been a personnel change.

The person he had to give the ring to was now at his father’s side. He couldn’t avoid this.

Soma cast a brief glance at the helicopter still carrying Vignon’s body, then turned his back on Lindow and the others and walked away.

Behind him, he heard Lindow sigh, followed by Sakuya’s hushed voice.

“After everyone left, the director summoned me and asked all sorts of questions about you, Lindow. What happened out there?”

The thick elevator doors cut off the rest.

Soma showered, then returned to the room assigned to him in the new recruits’ residential wing and collapsed onto the bed.

The dim room felt empty and cold. A built-in sofa, a low table, and a large database terminal at the foot of the bed—that was all. Aside from his clothes, he owned almost nothing.

Until his assignment to the First Unit was finalized, he’d been confined to a research facility. This room was the first thing he’d ever been allowed to call his own.*

God Arcs were returned to maintenance after missions and kept under strict supervision. They weren’t permitted in living quarters.

He closed his eyes to rest, but sleep wouldn’t come. Everything that had happened replayed in his mind.

The reason they survived became clear after viewing the high-speed camera footage taken by Nightingale 104. Mission recording was mandatory, and the pilot had shown it to them.

The scene was beyond abnormal.

Below the retreating helicopter, a blinding light swelled—and from its center, countless massive tentacles burst forth, wrapping around the expanding nuclear flash and shockwave again and again.

Then, along with the immense energy that should have been released, the tentacles vanished without a trace.

At least, that’s how it looked on the recording.

Soma and the others regained consciousness buried beneath rubble at ground zero.

What remained was far too little debris for a fusion reactor and its facilities—along with the bodies of coalition soldiers. The Aragami swarm had been completely eradicated.

Barely scratched, Soma and the others immediately began searching for Vignon. If they had survived, maybe he had too.

That hope lasted only an hour.

Inside the remains of the second wall, near the reactor, they found a forearm—from the elbow down—buried beneath debris.

The black suit fabric and Fenrir-emblazoned handcuffs identified it as Vignon’s.

The attached briefcase was gone.

The severed surface of the arm had melted—marks consistent with being devoured by a protoplasmic Aragami.

Vignon must have been with an Aragami when he died.

The second wall hadn’t been breached before the explosion. That meant the Aragami had been inside the reactor facility.

If so, then the creature that devoured Vignon had been the owner of those tentacles.

Hard as it was to believe, that being had devoured not only Vignon, but the fusion energy itself and most of the Oracle Cells of the reactor—then disappeared.

There was no way to investigate further.

Nightingale Units 95 and 96 from the Investigation Department arrived almost immediately, as if they had been waiting for the moment. The personnel who disembarked wore full radiation-shielded Oracle protection suits.

Citing site inspection, radiation exposure checks, and health evaluations, they forced Soma and the others away from the scene.

Tsubaki and Lindow repeatedly demanded explanations, but were told only that the coalition base had also been attacked and that Zhukov and all his troops were dead. Everything else was “under investigation.”

Still, Soma and Lindow saw it.

One of the investigators carried away a briefcase identical to Vignon’s.

They couldn’t be sure it was the same one—but the cooling indicator light was unmistakably on.

The investigators loaded it onto their helicopter and departed without another word.

Soma and the others were only allowed to leave the site two hours later.

The medical report cited mild neutron exposure, but no immediate danger to life.

According to the doctor, fragments of the Oracle-based reactor shielding scattered by the blast had protected them from direct exposure. Ironically, being closer to the epicenter may have saved them.

Soma didn’t believe that.

They hadn’t survived by chance.

They had been kept alive.

He didn’t know whose voice he’d heard telling him to protect everyone from the Aragami. Tsubaki and Lindow had heard nothing.

But that voice had been filled with a gentleness and a wish unlike anything he’d ever known.

Not a miracle. Not a coincidence.

He wanted to believe that voice had chosen to save him.

Is that what a mother’s voice is like?

Soma raised the ring into the dim light of the night lamp and stared at it.

Tsubaki had explained it with a pained expression to him, it was an engagement ring—something a man gives the woman he intends to marry.

Had his father given one to his mother?

Had his father loved her, the way Vignon loved his fiancée?

What kind of face was he supposed to make when he handed this ring to the woman Vignon loved?

What did it mean to love someone…?* 

Soma lay awake, motionless, holding his breath in the darkness.

At the appointed time, he went to the branch director’s office in the executive wing.

A tall, beautiful blonde woman greeted him.

She looked to be in her mid-twenties. She wore an Administrative officer’s uniform with a tight skirt and pumps.* 

“You are Private First Class Soma Schicksal, correct? The branch director is expecting you.”

Her voice carried no inflection. Her face was pale, like a Noh mask.

The insignia on her chest marked her as a second lieutenant.

This woman had to be Cordelia Fitzroy.

He had to give her the ring Vignon had entrusted to him.

But when Soma met her gaze—eyes that looked as though all life had drained from them—he found himself unable to speak.

The news from distant Siberia had cast this woman into an abyss, in stark contrast to Sakuya.

Her swollen, reddened eyes seemed to testify to the magnitude of what she had lost.

Soma had been stared at with anger, curiosity, indifference, and revulsion more times than he could count.*

But this was the first time he had ever been looked at like this.

Was this what people became when they lost someone precious to them?

Overwhelmed by a suffocating discomfort he had never felt before, Soma suddenly wanted to flee the spot.

He let his eyes dart around the room uneasily, but Johannes was nowhere to be seen.

Normally, he would be planted arrogantly in the desk chair directly opposite the door.

“Uh—w-where’s my… father*…?”

He finally managed to force the words out.

Cordelia stepped aside and motioned him into the room.

“This way.”

Turning her back to him, she headed for the door at the far right. Soma stepped into the director’s office and followed after her.

Behind the now-rare wooden desk hung a massive Fenrir flag, covering the entire wall.

On the shelves beneath it were an old-fashioned sepia-toned globe and rows of thick books.

On the shelves lining both sides of the room were flower arrangements and antique ceramic plates, as if mourning the European culture destroyed by the Aragami.

On the left wall hung a painting his father often stared at—an ill-omened one.

A sailing ship on the verge of sinking in a raging sea, and a single plank floating amid the stormy waves.

It was called The Plank of Carneades, based on a philosophical dilemma from ancient Greece.

A sailor is thrown into the sea from a sinking ship and barely manages to cling to a plank.

Another man drifts toward him, also trying to grab on.

If both cling to it, the plank will sink.

The first man pushes the other away and survives alone.

Should that man be judged guilty, or not?

Soma had a vague idea what his father’s answer would have been.

The door to the inner room opened.

“I have brought Private First Class Soma Schicksal,” Cordelia announced in a flat voice.

The inner chamber was long and narrow, lit by indirect lighting.

At the far end of a long table meant for ten people sat Johannes, at the short side.

His father’s gaze was fixed on a thick book in front of him.

Beside it stood a slender long-stemmed glass, filled about seventy percent with a pale golden liquid.

A short distance from Johannes’s seat stood a tall metal stand holding what looked like a stainless-steel bucket.

Inside was a green bottle—the bucket apparently meant to chill it.

Cordelia pulled out the chair opposite Johannes, then stood there without sitting, one hand resting on the backrest, her head lowered.

What was this supposed to be?

Unable to grasp his father’s intentions, Soma froze at the doorway.

“What’s wrong? Sit.”

Tens of seconds later, Johannes lifted his eyes from the book and spoke.

He was clearly telling Soma to sit in the chair Cordelia had pulled out.

Hesitantly, Soma sat down, facing his father across roughly four meters of table.

Cordelia poured something into a glass from a cart at the side of the table and set it in front of Soma.

The glass matched the one in front of Johannes, filled with a similar golden liquid.

Soma stole a glance at Cordelia’s face, wondering when he should bring up the ring.

But she avoided his gaze. After giving Johannes a brief bow, she left the room.

Her movements were mechanical, like those of an emotionless robot—as if she were performing her duties without thinking.

Johannes set his book aside, lifted his glass, and took a sip.

The corner of his lips twitched slightly as he let out a low, appreciative hum.

“It’s an imitation from twelve years ago, but not bad.

By then, true champagne could no longer be produced. One of humanity’s irreplaceable losses…”

Twelve years ago.

The year Soma was born.

Whether he was reminiscing or grieving, Johannes stared vacantly at the thin stream of bubbles rising through the golden liquid.

Soma had never seen this expression on his father’s face before.

Noticing Soma’s gaze, Johannes seemed to come back to himself and quickly returned to his usual impassive expression.

“Drink. That isn’t alcohol.”

Only then did Soma realize his own glass had no bubbles.

He lifted it cautiously, the faint scent of flowers brushing his nose.

Keeping his eyes on Johannes, he took a sip.

A sweet, slightly tart flavor filled his mouth.

It was good.

A little sour.

But sweet.

Liking it, Soma drained the glass in one go. Johannes narrowed his eyes.

“That’s grape juice. When fermented, it becomes wine. This champagne imitation was made by adding sugar and yeast to bottled wine for secondary fermentation. There’s still more bottles aging. I’ll give one to you. If you survive another eight years, drink it then.”

Eight more years?

There was no way he would live that long.

Most God Eaters died young—devoured or torn apart by Aragami.

Only a handful ever survived long enough to retire.

Johannes knew full well his son likely wouldn’t live to adulthood when he said that.

Fine then.

Soma would survive out of sheer spite.

He would live long enough to taste that so-called treasure of humanity.

For the first time, he set a goal for himself: eight years.

Cordelia returned, pushing a cart bearing military meal trays loaded with food.

Come to think of it, Soma hadn’t eaten a proper meal in a long time.

She laid out a knife and fork before Johannes and placed the tray down.

Had his father called him all the way here just to make him watch him eat?

Seeing Cordelia, so clearly absent-minded, being made to serve like this irritated him.

“What do you want? Say it already.”

Johannes frowned slightly.

“You don’t understand?”

“How the hell would I? Is that mouth just for decoration?”

Johannes grunted, took another sip, then said: “It seems I overestimated your intelligence. To think you can’t grasp the situation even now.”

Soma’s irritation boiled over. “You picking a fight?”

“I invited you to dine with me. Do I really have to spell it out?”

“Dine…?”

Soma stared at him, mouth half open.

Eating together.

He’d read about parents and children doing that.

But he had never once eaten a meal with his father.

Now?

Has the man finally lost his mind?

As Soma sat there dumbfounded, Cordelia placed his utensils and tray before him.

The smell of roasted synthetic beef and farmed fish meunière made his stomach stir.

“Lieutenant Fitzroy,” Johannes said.

“That one seems to like the juice. Serve him.”*

Cordelia picked up Soma’s empty glass and turned toward the cart.

Soma sprang to his feet and stopped her. “I-I’m fine! I don’t want any!”

He didn’t want to burden her any further.

Still, Cordelia moved to pour the grape juice.

“I—I can do it myself!” Trying to stop her, Soma accidentally brushed her hand and quickly pulled his own back.

“S-sorry…”

Cordelia looked at him with lifeless eyes.

He had no idea what to do.

Then Soma suddenly remembered what he had forgotten.

He fumbled in his pocket, pulled out the ring, and slammed it down onto the cart.

“Hey—th-this! Vignon gave it to me! He said to give it to you…!” His words rushed out, then trailed off.

“Marcel…?”

At Vignon’s name, emotion flooded Cordelia’s eyes.

Her sharp eyes widened as she picked up the ring with trembling fingers.

“Marcel…”

A sob escaped her as tears filled her green eyes.

Unable to hold it back, she fled the room.

So this was what it meant for your chest to tighten.

Soma gasped for breath.

He never wanted to see a look like that again.

The guilt swelling inside him turned into burning rage that spilled from his mouth.

“You bastard… what did you make Vignon do?!”

He spun on Johannes, swinging his arm wildly.

Johannes was now leaning forward, elbows on the table, hands clasped over his mouth.

It was the look of a scientist—the one he had shown many times whenever he subjected Soma to harsh experiments.* 

“I merely had him carry the hydrogen pellets.” Johannes said it without moving a single muscle.

Soma slammed his fist onto the table. “Liar! Then why did the Aragami swarm in?!”

“That is beyond my knowledge. Perhaps the coalition’s operation succeeded.”

“Don’t feed me that crap! We hadn’t done anything yet!”

Soma swept his arm across the table, sending the tray crashing to the floor.

The metallic clang echoed sharply.

The scattered food and sauce reminded him of the mangled bodies of coalition soldiers.

He realized then that some of them may have had people waiting for them, just like Cordelia.

The guilt intensified.

Clenching his teeth to keep from screaming, Soma glared at Johannes’s icy eyes.

After a suffocating silence, Johannes spoke.

“Suppose I did give Lieutenant Vignon something other than the pellets.” He leaned back deeply in his chair, chest thrust forward—utterly unapologetic. “He alone decided how to use it. The choice was his. What could I possibly have done?”

“You threatened him with her, didn’t you?!” Soma shouted, jerking his thumb toward the door Cordelia had fled through.

“Don’t underestimate me, Soma. I force no one. I merely show the path for humanity’s survival and grant the freedom to choose. Lieutenant Vignon was simply the type to become a sacrifice.” I don’t force anyone. I just give them a choice.

Johannes’s words burned away the last of Soma’s restraint.

“So you made Mom give birth to me the same way?!”

Johannes’s mouth twitched.

There was no stopping now.

“Why did you just stand by and watch while Mom devoured all those people?!”

Fear accompanied the question—that was why he had never asked it before.

What if he would become the same someday?

Since learning the truth of his birth, that thought had haunted him as he trembled in his cage.

“…Who told you?”

Johannes asked in a hoarse voice.

Soma didn’t answer.

When he was seven, they made him spend time with other children for some “emotional education” nonsense, one boy attacked him from behind with a metal pipe, screaming, ‘Monster—give my mother back’.

Soma needed eight stitches.

He later overheard nurses whispering that the boy’s mother had been one of Aisha’s nurses.

That was when Soma learned the truth.

Doctors, nurses, and scientists present during his birth had been devoured when his mother turned into an Aragami.

Aisha herself couldn’t sustain her Oracle-altered body and dissolved into a gelatinous mass.

Her blood, as an Aragami, lived on in Soma.

The head wound healed by the next day, horrifying the nurses.

That was when Soma truly understood he was different.

The doctor made him promise not to tell his father, threatening that he might become like his mother if he did. He was probably afraid of being held responsible 

He never saw that boy again, but from then on, Soma flinched at footsteps behind him.

“Answering a question with a question is what fools do,” Johannes said. “I’ll answer you.”

He met Soma’s gaze.

“To destroy the Aragami and protect humanity. I needed you.”

Something cracked deep in Soma’s chest.

It didn’t have to be true.

He just wanted the freedom to imagine—quietly, in the dark—that he had been born from love.* 

But to this man, everything but himself was a tool.

Even his mother.

To his own shame, his vision blurred.

Soma turned his back.

There was nothing left here for him.

As he moved to leave, Johannes’s hard voice struck his back.

“You were born to annihilate every Aragami. Understand? Exterminate them all.”

There was contradiction in his words—and, faintly, hesitation.

Hadn’t he said he never forced anyone?

Apparently, that didn’t apply to things that weren’t human.

The voice Soma had heard in the frozen wasteland—telling him to protect everyone from the Aragami—had been warm.

But hearing the same words from this man froze his heart solid.

Translation notes/Personal thoughts.

Let’s start off with saying sorry for taking so damn long! Not my intention but it’s good that I waited and let my friend help and provide some context here and there because I would’ve missed that otherwise and so you would’ve too.

First thing I wanna point out is that I freaking knew it! The Far East branch minimum drinking age is 20, just like in present day Japan. I remember people being freaked out about their Protag potentially having to be under the age of 18 due to Gilbert mentioning in GE2 that the Protag should “hurry up and get older so they can drink together”. But no, your character is canonically under 20, not necessarily under 18. This is just a Japanese cultural thing that they probably didn’t think too much about, but I do think it’s a bit odd for the setting. Like yeah, a kid as young as 12 years old can get sent to the middle of Russia to fight giant monsters to the death but not a sip of alcohol till you’re 20! Also, since Fenrir is a Scandinavian (Finnish) company initially, I’d make more sense for me if they were to use the Finnish legal drinking age which is 18 for milder stuff and 20 for heavier stuff. Or, what I think would’ve worked best, 16. Those teens need something to cope with the PTSD. 

Also before I give my other thoughts and context, the thing my friend pointed out the most is that I made Johannes sound too kind. He already was a POS in my original draft btw. 

Why the fuck is Lindow’s first thought on how to lighten things up trying to set up a 12 YEAR OLD with a 15 year old??? I know 3 years as an age gap isn’t insane but it is at that age! Also, Soma is clearly mourning now’s not the time for jokes! Granted, since they grew up together Sakuya and Lindow’s age gap is way weirder. At least he stil saw her as something akin to a little sister here but still… They honestly should’ve made Sakuya a bit older, like 24. I think it suits her maturity better and makes her and Lindow as a couple less uh… Awkward?  

The amount of child abuse he had to go through man… Not even owning anything besides his clothes. Like I will never understand treating someone that could be dangerous in such an abusive way. Like at that point you’re just asking for them to turn on you. And the fact that Soma ended up the way he did is actually a fucking miracle because he could’ve been so much fucking worse. If anyone ever wonders why he’s my favourite character it’’s because he’s genuinely well written. A lot of his traits are actually very fitting for what he’s been through.  

He didn’t even know what it was like to love and be loved, JFC! Also, I tried my best to make it come across that Tsubaki found it ‘painful’ to tell him. In Japanese, it shows Tsubaki understanding the tragedy before Soma can fully process it. A man died carrying a ring for the woman he loved, and Soma, who does not even understand love yet,  has to deliver it. Which is fucked up too! Like, I know he probably would’ve rejected the offer, but as an adult, shouldn’t Tsubaki and Lindow have offered to do it for him? Can someone PLEASE try to actually help the kid is what I’ve been thinking for years but this novel just shows that people barely did anything. 

I wonder what uniform Coredilia actually wears. Her uniform is not described the same as Sakuya’s so I can’t say for sure, but I think it is just in a different style. Cordelia’s uniform is especially one that’s stated to be internal duties rather than combat. Perhaps is similar to the uniforms worn by Fenrir's Intelligence Center in GE2

“Soma had been stared at with anger, curiosity, indifference, and revulsion more times than he could count”. He’s only 12 here! And initially I had used disgust instead of revulsion, but my friend pointed out that revulsion would be better because they weren’t just disgusted by him, they feared him and recoiled away from him… 

Father is technically correct to use here but Soma’s Japanese is much rougher. So it’s more akin to “My old man”. The reason I didn’t use it is to show the contrast between how he speaks to Cordelia and how he speaks to Johannes just a bit more. 

The fact that Johannes is able to openly mourn European culture and things like Champagne but not show an ounce of care towards Soma is genuinely insane. Guy cares more about booze than his kid… Old classic. Yikes.

I also wanted to translate this part as: “He seems to like that juice. Serve him.” But my friend pointed out that Johannes was way worse. He didn’t really use he, he used that one or it. I decided to go with “that one’’.

Knowing that parents and children eat together, from a book… 

Harsh, grueling, severe or brutal experiments. Any of them could’ve worked here. None make it better. I mean, am I surprised he got exposed to things that could’ve hurt him, no cause of the whole dragging a little kid blinded and deafened towards a monster in a cage part, but still! Like I genuinely did not know Johannes would be this fucking bad. 

HE JUST WANTED TO AT LEAST IMAGINE HE WAS BORN FROM LOVE! FUCK THAT’S SAD!

Sorry for the late reply, I´ve been hella swamped with work.

I played Burst back in 2011/2012 (I did also play a bit of the PS5 version though) most of the cast stayed the same, some dialogue got changed (not always for the better) and the pacing of the dialogue in the 2015 remake is sometimes too rushed ngl. The biggest change is Sakaki's VA. To the point (to me) it kinda changed his entire personality just because of his VA. I actually think neither VA is bad and I couldn't tell you which I prefer, though I guess the OG VA is more faithful to the JP dub.

One thing I remember from the OG dub is Soma straight up refering to his dad as a S.O.B which I don't think he actually does in the remake. I think in general they don't curse as much in the remake than the OG and in the OG it was already pretty mild. Kinda missed that.

Oh and the dialogue between Soma and Kota at the tranquil temple when they discuss the leader promotion party is wayyyyyyy better in the OG. A lot of dialogue, so not the VA work, is better in the original which is a damn shame. The emotions in the voices are also different between each version. I remember Soma being far more emotional in his tone in the remake compared to the OG. He's wayyyy colder in the OG. I did find Alisa's breakdowns and Russian to be done better in the remake though. Moon in the Welkin is just done a lot better in the remake for literally every character. Been a long ass time though so I might misremember some stuff. Only the dialogue of the promotion party planning really stuck with me cause it's such a shame Kota didn't call Soma a friendless loser in the remake. He does call him a jackass in the remake, but the 'that's why you don't have any friends' part got left out. Tbf the OG doesn't have Kota comment that Soma's acting as if he asked him to run ops naked, which I found gold too.

Okay, so I do think it's fair to mention that even though I'm a huge God Eater fan, 3 is where I know the least about, not counting mobile games, because I absolutely HATE God Eater 3 and believe it ruined the franchise and the story, so I'm not that knowledgeable on it, but I did do some digging but didn't find anything. Rant over, onto the question.

So I personally don't think these:

are God Arc pistols, but the precursors to them. Guns with oracle cell bullets. But I do think that these are the same as the gun wielded by Claire. Only now for taking down AGEs I guess... They look quite similar at least.

I'm actually not 100% sure and have been wondering this myself.

So what we do know is that before God Eaters, they managed to create bullets laced with Oracle cells, seen in both the OVA and a flashback of the anime, also mentioned in Moonlight mile. They only worked very briefly and are pretty useless against Aragami, but it's assumed that they managed to take down larger Aragami with these which in turn allowed them to make God Arcs. So yes, these pistols were the precursors to the God Arcs of the games.

What I don't know and can't find anywhere, is if these are considered pistol type God Arcs. None of these soldiers seem to have an armlet while Gen does, so I don't think they are. But we know Gen was one of the first God Eaters in what must have been 2056 (or potentially maybe 2055 earliest since human trails began that year), Diego, Yoshino and most likely Gadolin, also became God Eaters in 2056. That raises some issues as it's not stated anywhere (to my knowledge) that they switched from a pistol God Arc to a regular old-type God Arc. I mean, we see Gen get his armlet in the anime, so this really confuses me.

Perhaps Yoshino, Damian, and potentially Gadolin, all used a melee type God Arc which took a bit longer to develop and the pistol God Arcs that Gen used were created and used just before them?

Or these are considered to be pistol shaped God Arcs that didn't require an armlet and later Gen switched to a regular Old-type God Arc? But I find that unlikely as you'd think they would've mentioned his other God Arc then too.

My best bet is that we've NOT seen pistol shaped God Arcs and that they were the very first God Arcs used and that by using them they were quickly able to build the bigger and better short and long ranged God Arcs for use like Yoshino's buster blade, and Gen just was never compatible with another God Arc.

If Soma is the original god eater, how are there other God Eaters who are much older, like Gen?

I’m pretty sure this is something I just didn’t understand, but I still wanted to ask. I was confused because Soma is only 18 years old in the game, while Gen is 62, so Gen would have had to become a god eater in his 40s. On top of that, it would probably have taken years after Soma birth to create the entire god eater system we see in the game

2. How much of humanity is left, and how many god eaters are there, at least in Japan?

I wondered about this because the characters talk about a lack of resources like varied food or even toilet paper, but at the same time they spend resources on things like video games, TV shows, and music. That wouldn’t make much sense if there weren’t still a considerable number of people to consume these things and justify their production. Sometimes it feels like there aren’t that many people in Fenrir, since Sasaki personally gives general lessons to the protagonists, and when Kanon and Brendan disappear or when the First Unit falls into a coma, the other characters already start saying they’re short on personnel

Okay, so quick warning before I begin, the semi official God Eater timeline is incorrect. There are a lot of issues with the birthdates of all the characters as they just did: 2071 - Age of character= birth year and then much later story events, and yeah that screwed everything up and characters now should be actually younger or older than their given age due to this. So I'll use it, but keep in mind not to adhere to it too much.

Okay, so according to the timeline, Fenrir develops the P73 Bias Factor in 2052, by using the 'bias' found in Oracle cells and adjusting it for human bodies.

Then, Aisha becomes pregnant with Soma and they decide to inject them with the P73 bias factor in hopes of creating a human immune to Aragami devouring and being able to wield a God Arc and fight back. So Soma is born in 2053, it's a genuine mess (you'd know if you watched the anime or read Moonlight mile) and then they start studying Soma. Though studying him they develop the P53 bias factor in 2055, which unlike the P73, is much safer for human use. Then the first human trails start that same year. But the very first God Eaters and God Arcs begin in 2056.

As for the age of God Eaters, they have the highest rate of compatibility success as teens and young adults, but that doesn't mean you can't become a God Eater at an older age. Damian was 22, Gadolin must've been somewhere in his late 20s and Gen at least 47, as that's how old he was in 2056.

As for the second question, we don't fully know. I vaguely recall hearing that 1 in 100 survived, but I can't remember the source. But the anime gives us a good idea. I will leave the counting up to you guys though, but there's this image:

The Far East branch has at least this much survivors inside the branch:

Which isn't consistent with other media btw, as in the 2nd break Cradle is asked to look for suitable satellite sites as the number of people surpassed 150.000. In 2065, Soma also mentions in Moonlight mile that there are 150.000 living inside the Far East branch and I kinda doubt that in 6 year that number would've increased to 210.00+.

The reason for the lack of food sources stems from the fact that farming is still a thing inside the den. Lindow also mentions at the beginning that there was a bad harvest. But they don't necessarily share the same resources as video games, TV shows, and music, most of which if not all, are from pre Aragami times and just uploaded to their version of the internet, the NORN. As for how many God Eaters and other personal there are, we also don't know. Many more than we see in the games though! In the den alone there live 10.000 (elites) people (from the 150.000), which seem to mainly consist of God Eaters, necessary staff like Sakaki, Johannes, Hibari and Tsubaki and the families of both, though often their families are seem to still be stuck living in the Outer Ghetto like Kota's mother and sister.

And yes, they are stated to be constantly understaffed when it comes to God Eaters. Not everyone can become a God Eater and many die after becoming one, so there is a constant shortage of them. Not to forget that injuries, sickness and leave also contribute to the shortage.

Sakaki is just used so as to not have to make another NPC and for story reasons. I'd also argue it's because he's the guy when it comes to all things Aragami.

First battle, November 2065

“Hey, guys. Wakey-wakey.”

The pilot’s voice crackled through the headset. They must be nearing their destination.

Soma was pulled out of his half-sleep and back into the dim cabin of the helicopter. He opened his eyes slightly.

In the seat beside him, Lindow let out an enormous yawn.

“Fuaaaah… ow, ow. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to first class like this.”

He complained about the stiffness of the seat while rubbing his shoulder. Like Soma, he wore an over-the-head headset—necessary both to protect their ears from the noise and to communicate at all.

Inside a helicopter in flight, the roar of the engine and the pounding of the rotor overhead made normal conversation impossible.

In this era, aircraft travel that required large airports and extensive radar networks had long since been wiped out by the Aragami. For long-distance transport, helicopters—capable of vertical takeoff and landing and easier to operate—had become the standard.* 

The range problem posed by fuel had been solved by compact fusion engines. Comfort, however, was another matter entirely.

Still, Soma supposed they should count themselves lucky that the cabin even had a toilet.

In a space this cramped, that alone was something to be grateful for.

Tsubaki, seated diagonally across from him, seemed to have woken as well. She covered her mouth with her long fingers and gazed down through the side window.

Across from them, Vignon still hadn’t slept—not even a moment, apparently. Soma had checked on him a few times during the flight, but Vignon’s posture never changed: staring out the window with a brooding expression. His right hand remained cuffed to the attache case on the floor.

Curious about its contents, Lindow had tried striking up conversation more than once, but Vignon rarely responded.

Soma glanced down at the chronograph on his left wrist.

It was 6:00 a.m. Far East time—5:00 a.m. here in the former Krasnoyarsk region of Russia. Dawn was still a good five hours away. Outside the window, the world was swallowed by darkness.

They had flown for fourteen hours—roughly 4,200 kilometers—but the time difference from UTC was only minus one hour. Still, sunrise here came four hours later and sunset two hours later than in the Far East. The clock said little had changed, but anyone sensitive would feel something like jet lag.

Looking down, Soma saw frozen ground illuminated intermittently by the helicopter’s searchlight through the blowing snow.

Long ago, this land had been covered in vast coniferous forests, rivaling the jungles of South America in oxygen production. Now there was no trace of that past. Photosynthesis was no longer the domain of plants alone—Aragami that had consumed vegetation and assimilated its traits had long since been confirmed to perform it as well.

Ironically, it was the world-devouring Aragami that now kept Earth’s atmospheric composition stable enough for humans to breathe.* 

As the helicopter banked, a complex surrounded by an old electromagnetic-barrier armored wall came into view, glowing orange in the night. The buildings—styled after Russian Baroque architecture—had lights in some windows, and the helipad and its surroundings were cleared of snow.

On the pad, ground crew bundled in cold-weather gear waved signal batons.

It didn’t look like a military base. Likely a civilian or former municipal building requisitioned as the coalition’s command center.

The moment the helicopter touched down, Lindow pulled out a cigarette, stuck it between his lips, and lit it. Tsubaki sighed at the sight.

〈Honestly… show some restraint.〉

〈Is that an order from my superior, or advice from family?〉

〈Either way, you idiot.〉

〈Come on, I held out for fourteen hours. Cut me some slack…〉

Soma didn’t understand family dynamics at all, but it was obvious who held the upper hand here. Lindow clearly couldn’t stand up to Tsubaki.

As a token of resistance, Lindow left the cigarette in his mouth, removed his headset, and slid open the cabin door.

A blast of subzero wind and snow tore into the cabin.

Tsubaki removed her headset and stepped outside. Lindow followed.

Soma looked at Vignon—same reason as back in the elevator. Vignon shook his head.

〈I’m not getting off. I’ve been instructed to pick someone up here and then head straight for the fusion reactor.〉

Fair enough.

Soma removed his headset, turned away from Vignon, and headed for the door—when suddenly someone grabbed his right hand from behind.

Reflexively, Soma knocked the hand aside and spun around with his fist raised.

Vignon—now without his sunglasses—was looking up at him with a desperate expression.

He was saying something, but between the rotor noise and the blizzard, Soma couldn’t hear him.

—I have a favor to ask—

That was what his lips seemed to say.

Confused, Soma lowered his raised arm. Vignon slipped his free left hand into his suit pocket, leaned forward, grabbed Soma’s hand again, and pressed something into his palm.

When Soma opened his hand, he saw a silver ring set with a small diamond.

Vignon leaned close and shouted into his ear.

“Fitzroy! Cordelia Fitzroy! She’s in the den! Give it to her!”

Soma didn’t recognize the name. Frowning in confusion, he hesitated—but Vignon shoved him toward the exit.

“You’re the only one who can meet her!”

None of this made any sense, but Soma clenched the ring, shoved it into his coat pocket, and jumped down from the cabin.

In front of Tsubaki and Lindow, a ground guide was shouting over the rotor wash.

“You’re Fenrir Far East Branch personnel, correct?! We’ve been expecting you!”

“Thank you for the welcome,” Tsubaki replied.

The guide continued loudly.

“You’re to unload weapons and ammunition first! After that, we’ve been instructed to load our scientists onto your helicopter!”

The building’s doors opened, and two figures in heavy winter clothing approached.

Tsubaki and Lindow exchanged a glance—then turned back toward the helicopter behind Soma.

Inside the requisitioned music school that served as their base, the main hall opened up to the second floor.

The interior was warm, but the soldiers staring at Soma and the others were as cold as the air outside.

Three young men leaned over the second-floor railing, looking down at them. On the right-hand benches, four older men loitered.

“I was expecting some huge bear of a man,” one red-nosed middle-aged soldier shouted. “What’s this?”

“You’re real late, kid,” squealed a bucktoothed man beside him. “This school shut down twenty years ago!”

Crude laughter echoed through the hall.

“Don’t engage,” Tsubaki murmured to Lindow and Soma.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lindow replied, nudging Soma. “Hands to yourself, kid.”

Soma said nothing and set his God Arc case down on the floor.

He didn’t need to be told. Even if Lindow might enjoy a brawl, these oversized fools weren’t worth warming up for.

“Rybyonok!”

A pockmarked man spat the word from the second floor.

Brat. Baby. Greenhorn.

The spit fell short, splattering on the floor with a wet sound.

For Soma—born with the P73 Bias Factor—it didn’t matter. But compatibility with Bias Factors dropped with age, which was why most God Eaters were under eighteen. Even veterans like Tsubaki and Lindow were young compared to these soldiers.

Seeing no reaction, the bucktoothed man swaggered over to Soma.

He planted his filthy boot on Soma’s God Arc case and leaned down to peer into his face.

“Cold? Want me to warm up some mama’s milk for you?”

“Get your filthy foot off that,” Soma said flatly, staring straight ahead.

“Huh? Did a little bird just chirp?” the man sneered. “What kinda instrument’s this, kid? A trumpet your mommy gave you?”

He kicked the God Arc case.

He’d brought up his mother—twice.

That was something that needed to be taught out of him.

Soma twisted his hips and snapped out a left low kick, driving it cleanly into the back of the bucktoothed man’s right knee.

The knee buckled. As the man’s head dropped into range, Soma followed through with the same leg, whipping it up into a high kick that slammed into his temple.

The man crashed face-first into the wall beside the doorway. A broken front tooth flew off somewhere at the edge of Soma’s vision.

“Hey—!”

Lindow shouted from behind him.

“I didn’t use my hands,” Soma said calmly, shoving one hand into his pocket and turning back to his original position as if nothing had happened.

“…You little—”

Lindow stared, momentarily at a loss for words.

“Hm. Technically, he didn’t,” Tsubaki remarked, sounding almost impressed.

“Come on, sis, that’s not wordplay—”

“I told you not to call me that.”

Their usual exchange ended, and only then did the stunned soldiers finally stir.

At last, they seemed to understand what had happened. The former bucktooth lay collapsed on the floor, folded forward like someone bowing in apology, completely unconscious.

“You little bastard!”

The red-nosed soldier and two others stormed forward, shoulders heaving. From the second floor, the younger men hurried down the stairs.

“Tch…”

Just as Lindow stepped forward to shield Tsubaki and Soma, a massive bald man with the lower half of his face buried beneath thick beard stubble emerged from the far end of the hall. A thin, sharp-eyed man followed close behind him.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

The bald man’s roar snapped through the room. The soldiers froze at attention.

He strode to the center of the hall and slowly surveyed the scene.

Judging by the insignia on his chest, he was a captain. The soldiers who’d been so loud moments earlier now stared straight ahead, careful not to meet his gaze.

The captain looked down at the unconscious man sprawled at Soma’s feet, then raised his eyes and fixed Soma with a hard stare. He followed it by inspecting Lindow and Tsubaki from head to toe.

“Take him away.”

The order was curt.

The red-nosed soldiers exchanged uncertain looks and hesitantly moved toward Lindow.

“Idiots! Not them,” the captain barked. “The disgrace lying on the floor. Throw him in the brig. And once you do—you’re going with him.”

The red-nosed soldiers hoisted the former bucktooth by his arms and legs and hurried off down the corridor, their shoulders slumped.

The captain gave Tsubaki an arrogant salute and introduced himself as Captain Zhukov, commander of the First Company, 24th Independent Special Operations Brigade. Judging by his bearing, he was the overall commander of this operation. The narrow-eyed man standing behind him was a company warrant officer—essentially there to relay orders.

Tsubaki returned the salute, identifying herself as the captain of the First Unit, Fenrir Far East Branch, and formally stated that they had arrived in response to Fenrir Headquarters’ support directive.

“I apologize for my subordinate injuring one of your soldiers,” she continued evenly. “We will submit a formal written apology at a later date and will, of course, respond in good faith to any medical expense claims.”

Zhukov glanced once more at Soma.

“So it seems the talent of a god-eater truly has little to do with appearances.”

“You flatter us,” Tsubaki replied without missing a beat. “I neglected to inform my subordinate that spitting was the Coalition Army’s preferred form of welcome. That oversight was mine.”

The warrant officer’s thin eyes narrowed further. Zhukov snorted.

“Very well. The wolves of the Far East certainly seem spirited. Let them bare their fangs during Operation Solntse, and burn the Aragami to ash along with this Siberian permafrost. If you would—please join us for the briefing.”

They were led immediately into a dimly lit briefing room already packed with soldiers.

Among them were the red-nosed men who had insulted Soma earlier, now glaring at them with barely concealed hostility. A large screen on the front wall displayed a strategic map of the Eurasian continent, with what had once been a teacher’s desk placed beneath it.

Tsubaki and Lindow took positions along the back wall, and Soma sat down on the floor beside them, leaning against the wall.

The soldiers’ broad backs blocked his view of the screen, but he hadn’t intended to listen to their pompous speeches anyway.

After a while, Zhukov stepped up onto the platform and launched into a grandiose speech about how vital this operation was for the Coalition—and for humanity’s future.

As expected, his words were laced with barely disguised resentment toward Fenrir.

Since the collapse of nation-states, it was Fenrir that had built strongholds like the Far East Branch and protected what remained of humanity. Those who’d lost their authority weren’t inclined to take that quietly.

Fenrir had once been just a biotech corporation that clawed its way to the top of biological engineering and biochemistry. After the appearance of the Aragami, however, the company had been dismantled at the request of three scientists and reconstituted as an organization devoted to human survival and technological recovery.

Those three “sages,” as the records called them, were Soma’s parents, Johannes and Aisha, and Sakaki.

Soma scoffed inwardly. Sages? His father had forced brutal experiments on his heavily pregnant mother and caused a fatal accident. The nurses and doctors whispered the truth behind closed doors.

Murderer.

That’s what we're deserved to be called—him, and me.* 

As his thoughts drifted, Zhukov finally revealed his true intentions with smug satisfaction.

“…This sweeping operation will lure Aragami across Eurasia toward a strategic nuclear fusion reactor, which will then be detonated to eliminate them in one decisive strike. The god eaters dispatched from Fenrir’s Far East Branch will serve as shepherds—guiding the Aragami to the designated location.”

So they wanted them to run around this frozen wasteland, acting as bait and leading Aragami straight into the blast zone.

The plan was absurd.

Three people couldn’t possibly gather Aragami from across an entire continent, concentrate them at one point, and time it perfectly with a detonation. Hunting them down one by one would be far safer—and far more efficient.

In other words, they had acquired a weapon capable of killing Aragami exactly once—and had no idea how to use it properly.

Their solution was to request the deployment of the very god eaters they despised. They wanted bait, but not the risk.

If this was the decision of the Coalition’s general staff, then their officers were no better than their men.

Fenrir was far from a clean organization—but when it came to dealing with Aragami, it was a hundred times more competent than the Coalition.

Apparently reaching the same conclusion, Lindow casually pulled out a cigarette in the middle of the briefing.

The sharp metallic click of his oil lighter echoed through the room, drawing a wave of irritated stares.

Noticing the tension, Lindow stopped short of lighting it and leaned toward Soma with a sigh.

“Hey, kid. First mission, right? Relax a little.”

He wasn’t nervous in the slightest. And it wasn’t Lindow’s business anyway.

But the fact that the man still hadn’t even bothered to remember his name was starting to piss him off.

“Don’t call me kid,” he said flatly. “It’s Soma.”

Lindow shrugged exaggeratedly. “Whoops. Guess you’re all grown up.”*

“Enough, Lindow,” Tsubaki cut in without looking up from the briefing materials.

With a scratch of his head, Lindow fell silent.

Then it hit Soma.

The chill. The ringing in his ears.

He shot to his feet.

The first time he’d felt this was at age five—when they’d repeatedly dragged him near a cage holding a captured Ogretail, his eyes and ears covered. Back then, he’d only screamed and cried.

Now, it was different.

Unpleasant—but accompanied by a strange, inexplicable exhilaration.

His father and the scientists had eagerly recorded data, convinced there was some interaction between Soma’s internal P73 bias factor and Aragami.

But this feeling—

It wasn’t just dread. There was something older in it. Something almost comforting.

Then—

An explosion tore through the building.

A violent shockwave surged upward, shaking everyone in the room to their core.

The soldiers panicked, stumbling and losing their footing.

Only the god eaters—Soma and the others—remained steady, holding their positions.

The lights went out, replaced by emergency illumination that bathed the room in an ominous red. A shrill alarm blared, hammering the sense of crisis not just into their eyes, but into their ears.

“They’re here…”

Soma muttered as he snapped back to himself. There was no doubt about it—an Aragami attack.

“What’s going on!?” Zhukov shouted.

From speakers embedded in the walls, frantic Russian announcements repeated orders to assume combat readiness.

Details were still unclear, but an explosion had reportedly been detected at the first armored wall of the nuclear fusion reactor, three kilometers away.

Zhukov barked orders at the narrow-eyed warrant officer to confirm the situation, and the soldiers surged out of the room.

“Doesn’t sound like an accident,” Lindow said loudly.

Tsubaki hoisted her God Arc case from the floor.

“No. Most likely an Aragami assault.”

Even Tsubaki and the others—despite their high compatibility with the P53 bias factor—didn’t possess Soma’s abnormal sensory perception. Still, experience alone was enough for them to recognize the signs of an Aragami attack.

“Captain Zhukov!” Tsubaki shouted toward the podium.

“We’re moving to defend the fusion reactor! Permission!?”

Zhukov nodded and shouted back.

“We’ll relay further information as soon as we have it. Deploy at once!”

 With Zhukov’s permission granted, Soma and the others grabbed their God Arc cases and bolted from the room.

They sprinted down the long corridor toward the entrance hall. At the front, Lindow keyed the radio at his collar and shouted to the helicopter pilot.

“This is Lindow! Come pick us up—now!”

The reply came immediately, audible through Soma’s own receiver as well.

〈This is Nightingale One-Zero-Four. Yeah, I’m on my way to you right now!〉

“Report the situation!” Tsubaki barked from the middle of the group.

“If they’re Aragami, identify the types and give us exact numbers!”

The pilot swore, his voice rising in panic.

“What the hell!?!”

〈Holy shit—there’s too many to count! The ground’s completely swarming with Aragami!〉

Tsubaki suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.

Soma barely avoided crashing straight into her—hugging his God Arc case to his chest, he slammed his shoulder into the corridor wall and skidded to an abrupt halt.

“Don’t just stop like that,” he muttered, but it didn’t seem like she heard him.

Her eyes were wide as she shouted into the radio.

“What do you mean!?!”

〈I’ve spotted Ogretails, Zygotes, Kongou—and even Quadriga! And that’s not all. There are—〉

〈Every kind of Aragami imaginable is pouring in!〉

Soma’s eyes widened slightly in shock. He had expected, at worst, one of those rare, accidental incursions that occurred when the wall’s bias factor updates lagged behind—not this.

Tsubaki demanded further clarification.

“That’s impossible… What about the bias-field radar?”

〈We picked up a massive reaction covering the whole area—and then it went haywire right after!

What the hell is happening!?!〉

Tsubaki fell silent and exchanged a look with Lindow, who had stopped several meters ahead.

This was a situation neither of them had ever heard of. Even though it was an older model, the fusion reactor was supposed to be protected by the same electromagnetic anti-Aragami wall as the command base. It shouldn’t have looked like such an irresistible feast that this many different Aragami species would swarm it at once.

That was why Zhukov had pushed the “shepherd” role onto them in the first place.

So had something else drawn the Aragami in…?

The expressionless mask of his father, Johannes, and the desperate look on Marcel Vignon’s face flashed through Soma’s mind. Without thinking, he touched the ring through his pocket.

For once, Soma raised his voice over the mic.

“Where’s that Investigation Division guy—Vignon?”

〈He’s still at the fusion reactor. He went inside with the coalition techs and hasn’t responded since. We can’t afford to lose the helicopter… sorry, but we left him behind.〉

“Sis… could this be—”

“Yeah. That attaché case.”

Tsubaki and Lindow had clearly reached the same conclusion: Vignon was connected to this abnormal situation.

Johannes had called the contents of that case a ‘bribe.’

If that had been literal, then it should already have changed hands—from Vignon to Zhukov.

But Vignon hadn’t disembarked from the helicopter, and Zhukov himself clearly had no idea what was happening.

Damn it, old man.

Johannes must have anticipated the coalition’s incompetence and planted something on Vignon!

“So what exactly did we provide them, technically speaking?” Lindow asked.

Tsubaki brushed her bangs aside and answered.

“Hydrogen pellets infused with oracle cells. Essentially bullets designed to destroy the fusion reactor from the inside. It’s in the coalition’s operation outline—shared intel.”

Hydrogen pellets were microscopic solid-hydrogen fuel slugs injected into fusion reactors. Hydrogen gas was cooled to minus 263 degrees Celsius to form them.* 

When these millimeter-sized pellets were fired at high speed into the reactor plasma, they vaporized as they traveled, efficiently supplying fuel throughout the chamber.

Now imagine sealing oracle cells inside those pellets.

Once released, the ultra-high-speed oracle cells would scatter like countless blades, tearing through the reactor interior—strong enough to even destroy its oracle-based outer shell.

But that technology was meant only to destroy the reactor.

It didn’t explain why the Aragami were swarming in the first place.

“There’s something else going on…” Lindow muttered.

“So—what do we do?”

He glanced at Soma, then looked to his sister for a decision.

There was something behind this operation.

God Eaters were far too valuable to be thrown into a death trap out of spite, with critical intel kept from them.

His father was hiding something—something he hadn’t even told his most elite unit. Not even Soma himself.

“Whatever my old man’s* plotting, it’s got nothing to do with me,” Soma said flatly. “I’m getting Vignon out.”

Lindow glanced at him, surprised. “You that close with the lieutenant?”

“Not like that… I’m just holding onto something for him.”

Only you can reach her. Give it to Cordelia.

Vignon had said it knowing he might not make it back.

The kind of situation where a man ends up entrusting something like that to a kid he’s just met—that had to be Johannes.

Then it fell to him—his son—to settle it.

Tsubaki’s lips softened as she looked at Soma.

“That’s right. We are humanity’s last bastion. No matter what happens, we complete the mission—and we save every life we can. Stay with us!”

She broke into a run again, with Soma and Lindow right behind her.

They leapt aboard the helicopter that had come to pick them up, and after flying only a short distance, a massive orange cylinder glowing like a sideways figure eight emerged through the blizzard.

Looking closer, the light had a double-layered structure. Inside it, a complex cluster of buildings could be seen—the coalition’s fusion reactor.

The glowing tower, shaped like the cooling towers of old nuclear plants, was an electromagnetic, older-model armored wall that completely enclosed the main facility and its auxiliary structures.

Just as the pilot had said, countless Aragami swarmed around it.

Sections of the fence forming the electromagnetic barrier had already been destroyed, and gaping holes had been torn into the outer armor wall. Weak, flickering sparks—pitiful attempts at resistance—flashed here and there as coalition soldiers fired back.

But small arms with only trace amounts of adjusted oracle material mixed in couldn’t kill Aragami. To Soma, it looked like they were practically telling the Aragami, "Here's your prey!"

As expected, soldiers were being torn apart, devoured, and crushed all across the battlefield.

Even so, reinforcements continued to rappel down from coalition helicopters that had arrived ahead of them.

Zhukov had clearly committed every unit he had to the reactor’s defense.

A transmission reached Soma’s helicopter: they were to delay the Aragami at all costs and buy time until the fusion reactor reached criticality.

Tsubaki asked about Vignon’s status, but the comm officer’s answer was the same as the pilot’s report. The coalition technicians sent inside to fire the pellets into the reactor still hadn’t responded either.

The comm officer added that the detonation could be remotely controlled from the base’s control center, so the operation wouldn’t be affected.

Soma clicked his tongue.

The coalition had no intention of waiting to confirm their people’s survival.

“Set us down directly above the breached section of the wall!” Tsubaki ordered.

The helicopter descended.

The cabin’s sliding door had been left open since takeoff. Icy wind and snow tore into Soma’s exposed face without mercy.

“Keep trying to contact Lieutenant Vignon after we drop,” Tsubaki shouted toward the cockpit.

“If you get his position, inform us immediately. If possible, extract him first!”

“Roger!” the pilot replied.

“They’re everywhere,” Lindow muttered as he looked down.

“This is a holding action until the reactor is ready,” Tsubaki said firmly.

“You prepared?”

There was no doubt she also meant until Vignon gets out.

“Heh. Pretty vicious sheep,” Lindow spat.

“Let’s go. Don’t let a single one through!”

At Tsubaki’s command, she, Lindow, and Soma leapt into open air from roughly fifty meters up.

No rappelling lines. Just their God Arcs in hand.

The wind tore past them as the ground rushed up.

Soma reversed his grip and swung the dull-silver God Arc upward, locking onto a floating Aragami below.

A basic flying type—Zygote—kept aloft by gas stored inside its body.

The combined weight of Soma and his God Arc, accelerated by free fall, slammed into the Aragami. The blade shattered the grotesque creature—like a naked woman fused with a massive egg—in a single strike.

By converting the kinetic energy of his fall into the blow, Soma canceled his momentum and landed cleanly.

When he looked up, Tsubaki and Lindow had landed nearby, God Arcs at the ready.

Lindow raised his reddish-bronze chainsaw-like weapon and charged straight into the swarm.

He swung the massive blade with his entire body, centrifugal force screaming through it as it smashed into a Zygote. The Aragami split apart in one stroke, and with the blade embedded in the ground, Lindow used it like a vaulting pole to launch himself skyward.

He twisted midair and brought the weapon down, crushing the head of a Sariel—an Aragami that looked like a fusion of woman and wings—as it closed in from above.

Before Lindow even landed, a massive shape barreled toward his landing point: a Kongou, its body like a grotesque blend of gorilla and guardian statue.

Lindow deployed his shield the instant he touched down, blocking the Kongou’s fist, then carved deeply into its exposed abdomen. The creature let out a scream-like roar and collapsed.

In the blink of an eye, Lindow had slaughtered three Aragami and continued cutting deeper into the enemy formation.

It looked almost like he was dancing with them—every movement precise, without waste.

To fight like that, you had to read not just the enemy in front of you, but the entire battlefield—two, three moves ahead.

Tsubaki’s rifle-type assault God Arc roared.

Three-way homing rounds punched cleanly through enemies Lindow had missed or deliberately passed by.

Without even turning around, the two of them steadily widened the breach Lindow had torn open.

Tsubaki didn’t rein in her brother, even though he was pushing far ahead.

Soma couldn’t help but admire them.

“So this is the First Unit…”

They understood each other perfectly—how the other would move, what needed to be done next. It was flawless coordination, the kind no manual could ever truly teach.

He couldn’t fall behind.

In the brief moment Soma spent watching them, an Ogre Tail—like a bipedal dinosaur with its forearms cut off and covered in armor—lunged at him from the right. At the same time, a round shadow passed overhead: a Zygote circling in from the left.

A pincer attack.

Getting clever, are you? Soma thought.

For mindless monsters, that’s awfully bold.

Ivory-like tusks jutted from the Ogre Tail’s jaws as they snapped toward him. Soma glared up into its greedily glittering eyes.

I’m not the same as you.

I am not one of these hideous, man-eating abominations.

Just before the demon’s crimson jaws clamped shut, Soma slashed upward from a low stance, driving Evil One straight toward its throat.

Using that momentum, he twisted his body and brought the blade down again from above.

A split second later, blood sprayed—first behind him, then in front. The Ogre Tail and the Zygote crashed to the ground with a heavy thud.

Aragami, being conglomerates of oracle cells, shouldn’t need blood. Yet some of them did bleed like this.

There was a theory that, after devouring living creatures and incorporating their traits, some oracle cells began mimicking blood. If so, perhaps one day Aragami would even develop organs resembling the human brain.

Before the bloody mist had time to clear, Soma was already moving.

About ten meters ahead, a Cocoon Maiden had emerged from the ground.

Its name came from its resemblance to both a medieval torture device—the Iron Maiden—and a silken cocoon.

Every known Aragami trait was burned into Soma’s memory via Fenrir’s database network, NORN. The Cocoon Maiden had no visible legs, and its method of movement was long considered a mystery. But the theory that it traveled underground at night now seemed correct—otherwise it couldn’t have appeared inside an area that had been protected by the wall moments ago.

For some reason, it had also acquired a laser-emission capability, firing from the top of its body.

The combat manual recommended circling behind it.

Soma ignored that advice.

The first laser fired, scorching the ground where Soma had been an instant earlier. Without slowing, he ran in a wide arc from the left.

Then, just as the Cocoon Maiden adjusted, Soma abruptly changed direction and charged straight in from the front.

Exactly as he’d predicted, the second shot blasted uselessly into the ground far off to the side.

If he’d followed the manual and tried to circle around, that blast would have hit him square on. Using the enemy’s expectations—and the manual itself—against it had paid off.

Before it could charge a third shot, Soma kicked off the ground and swung his God Arc down hard.

The serrated blade buried itself in the creature’s head, and the Cocoon Maiden toppled forward like a felled tree.

Soma slid down its back like a ramp, and the moment he hit the ground he dove straight into the guard of a Kongou looming nearby, carving its abdomen open with a sweeping slash.

If Lindow could do it, so could he.

Without losing momentum, Soma spun with the blade still swinging and cleanly bisected another Cocoon Maiden standing just beyond.

Not bad for an opening engagement.

Soma immediately moved to support Lindow. Tsubaki must have noticed—her covering fire began to skim closer around him.

When he closed to about five meters and fell into step beside Lindow, the older man glanced sideways mid-sprint and smirked.

Tsubaki’s homing rounds streaked between them, targeting a massive steel scorpion waiting ahead—Borg Camlann.

This monster, as large as a four-legged tank, possessed hardened forelimbs that functioned as both shields and scythes. Tsubaki’s rounds slammed into those limbs, engulfing the area in smoke and explosions.

Lindow charged straight into the blast cloud without hesitation. Soma followed.

Lindow kicked off the ground, vaulting over Borg Camlann’s head, and delivered a spinning slash to its skull.

With its forelimbs destroyed by Tsubaki and its head wounded by Lindow, the Aragami collapsed, legs buckling beneath it.

But it still had its tail—a spear-like appendage twice the length of its body.

Borg Camlann relentlessly brought the tail crashing down toward Soma.

Soma leapt left and right, weaving through the strikes. Closing the distance, he poured all his strength into a single sweeping blow, cleaving into the damaged head.

The oracle-cell bonds ruptured. The massive Aragami reared back, spraying blood skyward before crashing down with a thunderous roar. Its long tail slammed into the ground, thrashing wildly.

Lindow avoided it cleanly, but several smaller Aragami were caught in the flailing tail and sent flying.

“Not bad, kid!” Lindow shouted.

“Don’t call me kid!” Soma snapped back, surprising himself by sounding exactly like Tsubaki.

Lindow grinned broadly.

So this was Lindow’s idea of bonding.

Soma clicked his tongue. He didn’t need to play along with this sibling-style routine—or let himself get dragged into Lindow’s rhythm.

Suddenly, Lindow’s expression hardened and he broke into a sprint.

Soma followed and saw why: a unit of coalition soldiers was being overwhelmed by a cluster of Aragami.

A Kongou had pinned one of the men—one of the red-nosed soldiers who’d harassed them back at the base.

Lindow rushed in, drove his God Arc deep into the Kongou’s flank, and kicked the creature aside toward the soldier.

“Get back!” he shouted.

The man stood frozen in terror as Lindow ran off to help the others.

The Kongou twitched beside him, still struggling to rise.

Soma shifted his God Arc into devour mode and delivered the finishing blow to the Kongou.

The soldier stared up at him as the God Arc consumed the Aragami.

Soma looked down at the man’s utterly terrified eyes without a trace of emotion.

“Eek…! M-monster!”

The man screamed and fled.

Monster.

The boy who had once smashed a steel pipe down on Soma’s head had called him the same thing.

For a first battle, he had killed this many.

Yeah. I am a monster.

“…Damn it.”

Soma spat the words and charged back into the mass of Aragami swarming the soldiers.

If he was a monster, then he’d act like one—kill and kill and kill until there was nothing left.

He had been born into this insane world as a monster that devoured monsters.

Fine. He’d give them exactly what they wanted.

If he couldn’t even do that, then what reason did he have to exist at all?

At some point, Soma realized he was screaming.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. When he cut down yet another Ogre Tail—he’d long since lost count—Soma noticed the sound of helicopter rotors.

Did Nightingale One-Zero-Four find Vignon?

But when he looked up, he saw something else.

Coalition transport helicopters were lifting off one after another from inside the second defensive wall—carrying soldiers away.

“Hey! Why the hell are they pulling back!?” Lindow shouted.

No retreat order had reached them.

“…They’re abandoning us,” Tsubaki muttered through clenched teeth.

Thanks to Soma and the others holding the line, the breach hadn’t yet spread past the second wall. If the fusion reactor had reached critical and detonation was imminent, they should have received withdrawal orders as well.

Zhukov had never intended to extract them.

To the coalition forces, God Eaters were no different from Aragami—monsters to be wiped out.

Soma stared out through the shattered breach in the first wall at the snowstorm beyond.

“…They’re still coming.”

Drawn by something unseen, massive Aragami silhouettes continued to surge forward.

“Damn it… this isn’t enough…!”

Even Lindow sounded bitter.

After the relentless fighting, they were completely exhausted. That many large-class Aragami couldn’t be stopped.

And worse—before long, the fusion reactor behind them would explode.

If they were caught in a blast equivalent to more than six thousand Hiroshima-class atomic bombs, survival was impossible.

So this is it…

I die here with these monsters.

That was fine.

If so, he’d take as many of them with him as he could.

The only regret was that he wouldn’t be able to fulfill Vignon’s wish.

You will bring salvation to this world.

You will protect everyone from the Aragami.

Suddenly, accompanied by a piercing ringing in his ears, a voice he felt he had heard long ago echoed inside Soma’s mind.

He turned toward the fusion reactor—and was swallowed by a blinding flash and a crushing shockwave.

Soma felt no fear.

Wrapped in a strange warmth and peace, he lost consciousness.

Translation notes/Personal thoughts.

That's a wrap for chapter 3! Hope to get the next one out as soon as I can, but I can't promise anything. I'll go look at the newest ask I got tomorrow earliest because I'm tired as hell.

So I think it’s interesting that this novel goes directly against the anime by explaining how air travel works in God Eater. Because in the anime there are still planes. I do believe this novel came a year before the anime and even if it didn’t, the anime has multiple canon convergencies. Like their rooms being above ground and the veterans, at least Sakuya, having a private shower in their living quarters. 

I always really loved this whole Aragami keeping the planet breathable part, because it really shows that humanity has no hope to ever live without the Aragami. Even if they managed to kill them all they’d suffocate. Which is also one of the reasons why I still don’t understand God Eater 3’s project Ragnarok, but that's something I’ll complain about another day. 

Soma not understanding family dynamics is just so, so sad. And next chapter just drives that point home even further. 

Bullying a 12 year old as a grown man is crazy to me. Soma’s 100% the mature one in this case. And I do find it bittersweet how he seems to take such offense to people mentioning his mother in a way he doesn’t like. It’s probably part survivors’ guilt though.

Love the fact that Tsubaki plays along and agrees with Soma while remaining professional. Shows another side of hers that we don’t see while she’s an instructor. 

So he literally says something along the lines of: Murderer. (human killer specifically) Being called that—myself included—is what’s fitting. He fully labels himself as a murderer, no hesitation, No, maybe I’m the same. No, he fully placed that label onto himself. Well other people did and he absorbed it. 

Okay, so the part where Soma tells Lindow not to call him kid and Lindow responding with “Whoops. Guess you’re all grown up.” has a bit more to it in Japanese. He uses the word icchōmae, which comes from the trade culture. Being icchōmae means you are ‘A fully-fledged professional’. Not a rookie, not an apprentice. The word can be used sincerely, basically saying someone is a professional now, or, how Lindow kinda means it, teasingly or ironically. Now Japan is big on hierarchy, so being icchōmae is something you earn. So Lindow is saying: “You’re not there yet… but you’re acting like you are.” Maybe this is obvious to some, but I liked to point it out. Also, I went with all grown up, because that’s closer to the official English translation of the OVA and I didn’t really know how else to phrase it and make it sound good. 

Yeah so Johannes actually tortured the kid, holy shit. One thing I never understand in situations like Soma’s is why they don’t treat the person well. You have someone who you think is basically a ticking time bomb, so why are you provoking them or giving them a reason to hate you???

I fucking hate all the science talk (translating it), and, once again, I can’t guarantee it’s correct. But it does show off that Soma is wayyyyy too smart for a little kid. I do think it’s good to show that he didn’t just become a scientist outta nowhere or just because his parents were ones. No, he’s literally just that smart. Sakaki also calls him a genius because of it. 

That is my intention. Undercover, spiral fate, side by side (this one is really nice if you like the defense unit and also tells us a bit more about compatibility rate through Kanon) not necessarily in that order. There is also a short promo ‘manga’ of the defense unit in GE2 that I’d like to translate that I’ve actually never heard anyone talk about before. There is one chapter of undercover that’s kind of a standalone, that is focused on Soma that someone translated before here. If the link is broken or something I did actually manage to download it and save it ages ago so lemme know if I should share it. Unfortunately the raw scans of spiral fate seem to be lost forever. But the good news is that I do own the manga volumes so while the quality wouldn’t be as good, I can still translate it. Though I hope by the time I get to that that someone else has found all the raws of it online somewhere else. I think you can still buy it if you have a credit card or a Japanese way of paying for it. Neither of which I have.

The only manga I absolutely won’t translate is the GE2 one. It doesn’t really add anything, I didn’t like the cast of the second game and other things I did like were rushed.

So this is going to be part speculation on my part I guess, but you're right in thinking I read something about it in the art book. + Moonlight mile gives us this:

At once, the core set into the hilt began to glow a dull orange. Living oracle cells unfurled like tendrils, reaching for Soma’s restraint. The instant the God Arc linked to him through the cuff, it let out a low vibration and became part of his body. Its crushing weight vanished, reduced to barely a fifth of what it had been.

So, we do know that in order for a God Eater to wield their God Arc they have to be connected to it. We just don't see this in game* minus two? cutscenes. Most likely just because it would be a nightmare to animate.

So I think it's 'safe' for someone to touch a God Arc as long as they don't touch the handle and probably not for too long. In a later chapter of Moonlight mile they also have to place Alisa's God Arc in a case and due to the state she was in in that moment, someone else probably did it. As for how Alisa was able to drag out Lindow's God Arc, it was probably dormant and that's why it didn't attack her. I also think this because I'd assume Alisa must've 'met' Ren then too if it wasn't, considering she's also a New-type.

Well guess what I happened to stumble upon and buy on Ebay?

Hey, no problem, life keeps me occupied so I'm indeed way too busy to get to translating and working on my fic, but I can answer this question and another one later.

As far as I'm aware that is 100% not allowed.

Translation work is often a grey area but getting paid for it makes it fall outside of the grey area completely. I know these novels are 10-15+ years old and have no prints being sold anymore let alone will ever have an official English translation, but putting it behind a paywall is just wrong. I'm just doing this because I want to translate it for myselt and because I want to share it with the fandom as

I remember wanting to read them when I was younger. Plus they are super cool and give a lot of extra content and background information. Like if you've read 2nd break, you probably have no idea who Marguerite is unless you've read the novel Those that break taboo' and that was never translated. I will get to it eventually as will I get to the Alisa novel.

That's just misinformation. I don't know a single manga where he doesn't get resurrected. The entire story is the same as GE2 with only some minor things changed and some scenes added. Like the whole Kyuubi stuff doesn't really come up (one of the few parts of GE2 I genuinely liked)

Actually, I found a much better one!! Sorry for the ask and two playlists!

Realized only now that I accidently left out the picture of the den I was talking about. So here it is at last translated and all. Hope it's readable. And as a bonus here is a map of the Far East region (GE2)

And here is an edited map of the IRL area put over it. Since they didn't match up perfectly, I had to reshape the real life map a bit so it's not 100% accurate but gives a good idea.

Initial task, November 2065

The elevator doors slid open, and a rush of strong wind poured into the car along with the glow of the setting sun.

The elevator was equipped with a pressure-control system, but after ascending more than a thousand meters in one go, it clearly couldn’t fully match the outside air pressure. The wind whipped violently at the hems of the white long coat worn by Soma’s father, standing with his back turned, and Soma’s own blue half-coat.

The hood that had been pulled low over Soma’s head was nearly torn free. He instinctively raised his right arm to shield his face, the red metal restraint he’d worn since he could remember knocking against his forehead. Only recently—on his twelfth birthday—his doctor had replaced it with a larger size.

The only thing Soma had ever received for his birthday was that restraint, exchanged year after year as his body grew. 

Once the pressure equalized, the wind weakened—but even so, at three hundred meters above the ground it still howled fiercely.

His father stepped out without hesitation. The tails of his coat, split at the waist, danced through the air like twin white serpents.

He walked straight toward the helipad some fifty meters away. Three figures were already waiting in front of a medium-sized, single-rotor, four-wing tactical helicopter.

After stepping out of the elevator, Soma turned his head to the left, gazing toward the mountains on the western horizon, bathed in sunset light.

He’d been told that this had once been the tallest and most beautiful mountain in the region. Now it looked more like a massive chunk torn apart—half-collapsed sand, or cheese gnawed away at the edges. Even sacred peaks famed throughout the world had fallen prey to Aragami.

From the rooftop of Fenrir Far East Branch’s Eighth Hive*, only a small circular area below could still be called human living space—barely preserved by desperate effort.

Turning his gaze, Soma saw the anti-Aragami armored wall rising in a wide ring about one and a half kilometers away. One hundred meters tall, with a circumference of 9.4 kilometers. Inside it, 150,000 people huddled together, living in fear of Aragami.

Of those, roughly ten thousand—an elite class—lived safely underground in the den, isolated from the outside world.

The den itself was absurdly massive: The portion exposed above ground alone measured 300 meters on each side, and it extended a full 1,000 meters underground—an absurdly massive structure.

Everyone else—the refugees—were forced to live in the shantytowns of the outer residential zone, staring up resentfully at those protected inside their steel box. Most of the people enjoying that protection were Fenrir staff and their families.

Beyond the wall stretched nothing but ruins and wasteland. Crumbling buildings and collapsed structures gave way to endless stretches of scarred earth.

Soma stepped aside to let those behind him pass.

Another person had been riding the elevator with them—a young man in a dark suit, probably twenty-seven or twenty-eight. He had black hair, sharply defined features, and pale oval sunglasses.

In his right hand, he carried a reinforced attache case of oracle-standard design, handcuffed to his wrist. The kind commonly used to transport Aragami cores or oracle cells.

As he exited the elevator, the man looked down at Soma, who remained standing by the door, and furrowed his brow.

“You’re not coming?”

Soma jerked his chin, signaling him to go on ahead.

“I don’t like having someone behind me.”

“I see…”

Thrown off by Soma’s blunt attitude, the man hesitated, then started walking—before glancing back.

“What kind of father is he? Branch director Schicksal, I mean.”

The unexpected question made Soma look up at him more closely. The reflection of the sunset on the sunglasses made it impossible to read his eyes.

“…Exactly what he looks like,” Soma answered after a brief pause.

The man lowered his gaze to the attache case in his hand. Then he looked toward Johannes von Schicksal’s back as the man walked away without a backward glance.

“I thought so,” he murmured.

The man followed Johannes, and Soma trailed after them toward the helicopter.

In front of it, Johannes was speaking with two young adults and a middle-aged man.

When Soma and the man in black took their places beside him, the middle-aged man—messy-haired, fox-faced—pushed up the temple of his glasses and bent down to peer closely at Soma’s face.

He already wore gold-rimmed spectacles, yet two more pairs of different shapes hung from chains at his chest.

“So you’re Johannes and Aisha’s son,” he said softly. “You really do resemble Aisha… the mystery of life.”

He looked a little older than Johannes, who was in his mid-thirties. His clothing resembled a strange blend of a traditional kimono and an Inverness coat.

Soma didn’t like strangers mentioning his mother. He glared silently into the man’s narrow eyes behind the lenses.

Seeing Soma remain silent, Johannes spoke up.

“This is your first meeting, isn’t it? This is Soma, Paylor.”

Then, glancing sideways at Soma, he introduced the man.

“My old friend—Dr. Paylor Sakaki. Fenrir’s leading authority on Aragami technology. You’ve heard his name before, I’m sure.”

He paused.

“He’s also… the one who saved both our lives.”

Soma hated scientists and doctors. If they were his father’s friends—and involved in his mother’s fate—there was even less reason to like them.

“Tch. You shouldn’t have bothered.”

He turned his face away and spat the words out. If this man hadn’t interfered, Soma, his father, and his mother would have died together long ago. That would’ve been better.* 

“Soma.” Johannes snapped his name sharply.

Paylor took out a cloth, removed his glasses, and wiped the lenses.

“It’s all right, Johannes,” he said calmly. “I can’t blame him for hating me.”

“My apologies,” Johannes said. “I only taught him academics and how to fight.”

Paylor replaced his glasses and met Johannes’s gaze.

“Are you truly set on making this child a God Eater?”

“Of course. That decision was made that day.”

“I still believe it wouldn’t be too late to wait,” Paylor said quietly. “To see how what lies within him affects his mind and body during adolescence.”

“We’ve observed him for twelve years,” Johannes replied. “That’s more than enough time.”

“…You may be repeating a tragedy.”

“If, in trying to flee a bear, you were to encounter the raging open sea, would you really turn back and place yourself once more in the bear’s jaws?”

It was a line from King Lear by Shakespeare*.

Deep within the underground library of the den, humanity’s vast intellectual heritage was preserved, and Soma had once read that buried play.

Taking Sakaki’s words to heart, Johannes had quoted a line from tragedy.

Do not falter. Press forward. Throw yourself into the stormy waves.

Sakaki let out a quiet sigh.

“I had hoped that time might persuade you to reconsider, but it seems that was wishful thinking.”

“On that point, I agree, Paylor. Time solves nothing. Humanity must act—seize the future through irreversible resolve and unshakable will.”

“So you see yourself as a scientist of action,” Sakaki replied. “It seems you and I differ fundamentally in our methodology.”

“Observation and experimentation are the two wheels of science. Would you disagree, stargazer? I still consider you a friend—and I would like to believe you feel the same. As branch director and as chief of technological development, we should be working together for the future of humanity.”

They hadn’t spent that much time together, yet it was rare to see his father speak with such eloquence. Soma looked up at Johannes’s composed profile.

The subject of their debate seemed to be Soma himself, and yet it felt to him as though his father was genuinely enjoying the argument with Sakaki.

He could never quite tell what that man was thinking—but perhaps his claim of friendship toward Sakaki wasn’t a lie after all.

Johannes turned to the young woman standing beside Sakaki.

“Have you reviewed the personnel notice and the operation outline, Lieutenant Tsubaki Amamiya?”

“Yes, Director Schicksal.”

The woman called Tsubaki—likely in her early twenties—answered clearly and calmly. Her long black hair, naturally unruly, was tied up behind her head, though loose bangs slipped free, falling across her face and covering her right eye. A small beauty mark on the left side of her pale pink lips lent her striking features a subtle sensuality.

She wore a simple dark-gray officer’s coat and white trousers—an unadorned outfit that only emphasized her well-proportioned figure.

On her right arm was the same loathsome red restraint that Soma wore.

A God Eater, bound and owned by Fenrir.

The young man standing beside her bore the same shackle.

Johannes nodded, then glanced briefly at Soma as he made his announcement.

“Very well. As of today, my son* Soma, will be placed under your command. This is not a personal matter, but a decision made in my capacity as Far East Branch Director. I have judged assignment to the First Unit to be appropriate. I leave him in your care.”

The First Unit was the elite among the Far East Branch’s seven God Eater units. Accordingly, it was given the most dangerous missions—and had historically suffered the highest number of casualties. However, Soma had heard that since Tsubaki had taken command, the number of deaths in the unit had decreased significantly.

“Understood,” Tsubaki replied, meeting Soma’s gaze briefly. “We will take responsibility for your son within the First Unit.”

She then returned her eyes to Johannes.

“However, as a field commander, there is something I must say.”

She paused, waiting for permission from her superior.

“Go on.”

“I believe this deployment to Russia is far too dangerous for your son’s first operation. We will receive no support from other units, nor from the Russian Branch. Furthermore, the coalition forces we are expected to assist have long been politically opposed to Fenrir and are likely to be uncooperative.”

“An accurate assessment.”

“There are several other candidates with field experience. Therefore, this mission—”

Before she could finish, Johannes raised his voice and cut her off.

“This is no ordinary human. It is an Aragami.”

At his father’s merciless words, Soma clenched his fist so tightly his nails bit into his palm, staring down at the toes of his boots. He could feel Tsubaki and the young man beside her freeze in shock.

Sakaki let out a sigh filled with shame.

“The Managarm Project…”

At Sakaki’s murmur, Johannes straightened and continued evenly.

“You’ve heard of it. Twelve years ago, the P73 Bias Factor biological transfer experiment—now frozen. Soma was born as a result. Humanity’s first successful biological imprint of a Bias Factor. A half-Aragami. The original God Eater.”

Seventy-three.

There was no number more abhorrent to Soma.

The P73 Bias Factor was the first Bias Factor humanity had discovered within oracle cells, thirteen years ago.

God Eaters, God Arcs, anti-Aragami armored walls—all the oracle technologies that barely kept humanity from the brink of extinction had their origins there.

At the time, Fenrir was still merely a Europe-based biochemical corporation. At the government’s request, it began research into incorporating the bias factor into human genetics.

The goal of the Managarm Project was to create humans with bodies immune to Aragami predation—humans possessing antibodies against oracle cells.

After limited success with rats, human trials were considered. However, direct administration to adults carried severe risks: failure of programmed cell death, cancer, mutations, and catastrophic physiological breakdown.

As a result, the experiment proceeded via indirect fetal administration—using the institute’s female director as the test subject.

The outcome was disastrous.

The director herself, along with more than a dozen doctors, nurses, and scientists, died in the accident. The only survivors were the lead researcher—Johannes—and the child born from the experiment: Soma, son of Johannes and the subject, Aisha Gauche.

“The P73 Soma was born with is different from the P53 Bias Factor you current God Eaters receive artificially,” Johannes continued. “P53, discovered by Paylor, is safer and easier to control. But because of that, its effectiveness as an antibody—and its impact on the human body—are limited. You all know this from experience.”

This was why God Eaters were not devoured by their own God Arcs, yet could still be eaten by other God Arcs or Aragami.

Being selected as a God Arc-compatible meant being adjusted to a specific P53 Bias Factor—one tuned to prevent predation by that particular weapon.

Oracle cells exhibited countless feeding preferences. To this day, no universal Bias Factor immune to all Aragami has been found.

P53’s narrow adaptability made it safer and easier to tune, but it was not without risk. Excessive exposure led to cellular erosion, oracle conversion—and eventual transformation into an Aragami.

That was why the dosage and intervals of P53 administration were strictly monitored through the restraints on every God Eater’s arm.

“P53 provides some enhancement to physical ability and healing,” Johannes said. “But that is its limit. P73—far closer to Aragami—grants vastly superior metabolism, regeneration, and physical power. The training data makes it clear: Soma is better suited to killing gods than any of you. Isn’t that right, Paylor?”

Johannes turned to Sakaki, seeking confirmation. Sakaki adjusted the bridge of his glasses.

“From a data standpoint, yes. But skill and judgment—earned through experience—are something else entirely.”

The lenses of Sakaki’s glasses caught the sunset and flashed. Johannes seemed to take it as a challenge. He snorted and turned his gaze to the young man standing beside Tsubaki.

“Shall I have him face off here against the lieutenant’s pride—her younger brother?”

“Director, that’s not what I—”

Tsubaki stepped forward to object, but the man beside her raised a hand, stopping her.

“Lindow!”

“Sister,” the black-haired young man said calmly, “we should respect his will.”

The man called Lindow met Soma’s stare directly. There was no provocation in his eyes. He looked around twenty years old. Tall and solidly built—around 180 centimeters—he wore a two-tone military coat of dark gray and olive drab, with heavy army boots reaching his knees.

Soma was seething.

Every one of them talked over his head, deciding his fate without asking him a thing.

When Soma glared back and stepped forward, Lindow smiled—easy and friendly—and walked toward the side of the helipad. Soma followed.

Under normal circumstances, he would’ve loved nothing more than to punch his father. But doing so might cost him the long-awaited chance to join an active combat unit—and send him back to the research cage.

He hated that place.

I’m not an animal.

Endless experiments. Endless orders. Endless knowledge crammed into his head. It had taken everything he had just to earn the counselor’s verdict: Not obedient, but capable of adhering to minimal social norms.

Still, his anger wouldn’t cool.

Soma decided to vent it out on Lindow—who looked strong enough to take it.

He had nothing against him personally, but Lindow was willing. The branch director himself had proposed it; punishment was unlikely. And Tsubaki had said there were other candidates—if Lindow couldn’t go on the mission, someone else would.

Soma and Lindow moved far enough away from Johannes and the others, then stopped—about three meters apart—facing each other.

“I’m not great with complicated talk,” Lindow said lightly, a grin still on his face. “Makes me yawn. You seem like the same type, don’t you?”

Soma didn’t answer. He spread his feet shoulder-width apart, stepped his left foot forward, and turned his body at an angle toward Lindow. His center of gravity settled naturally, balanced and steady.

“Well,” Lindow went on casually, “when you’re worked up, moving your body’s the best cure. Let’s take it easy—call it a warm-up.”

The way he spoke, as if he could see straight through him, set Soma off.

I’ll wipe that smile off your face.

Soma lowered his stance and sprinted forward, closing the distance in an instant.

In hand-to-hand combat, size and weight differences were decisive. A smaller fighter didn’t easily defeat a larger one.

If a short guy wanted to win against someone bigger, he had to slip inside their reach—deny them the advantage of long limbs.

Anyone with real experience knew that.

Naturally, Lindow did too. Just as expected, he dropped his hips and lowered his arms, bracing for an attack to the torso.

Soma feinted a rush into Lindow’s guard—then kicked off the ground and launched himself into the air.

His right knee shot up toward Lindow’s face.

“…?!”

Lindow’s expression flickered with surprise at the height and sharpness of the flying knee. He raised his right arm to guard and leaned left. Soma’s knee grazed Lindow’s cheek and carried him even higher—his body now sailing past Lindow’s shoulder, overhead and behind him.

In midair, Soma snapped his right leg down, swinging it hard toward the back of Lindow’s head.

A combination only someone with inhuman physical ability could pull off: knee to the philtrum*, then—if that failed—a heel strike to the back of the skull as they passed each other. Both blows were precise, mercilessly aimed at vital points.

If the knee had landed cleanly, he’d planned to seize the head and smash in an elbow next.

But the heel drove into the back of Lindow’s right hand instead.

Blocked.

Soma landed behind him and immediately tucked into a forward roll. A split second later, Lindow’s heel scythed through the air like an axe, missing Soma’s head by a hair.

While taking Soma’s kick, Lindow had countered with a spinning back kick aimed at the landing point.

Soma sprang up, shifted positions, and faced him again.

This was a first.

Lindow had evaded both strikes—and counterattacked.

It wasn’t just raw physical ability. As Sakaki had said earlier, experience and battle-honed instinct had let him react to an unfamiliar attack and turn it into offense.

Soma’s heart pounded.

This wasn’t like mock Aragami hunts or sparring with other God Eaters. The exhilaration was on a completely different level. His anger ebbed, replaced by a pure, burning desire to fight this man properly.

Across from him, Lindow grimaced and shook his raised right hand.

“Ow, that hurt… Wow. Sis, this kid’s the real deal.”

“Don’t call me that!” Tsubaki snapped. “That’s enough, both of you! What if you injure yourselves before the mission?!”

She turned to Johannes, retracting her earlier objection.

“I understand, Director. Your son—no, Soma Schicksal—will accompany us on this operation. Is that acceptable?”

Johannes didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he kept his eyes on Lindow and addressed Sakaki.

“Paylor. What’s his compatibility rate with P53?”

“You might be surprised,” Sakaki replied. “Three point two times the average. Lieutenant Amamiya’s numbers are well above average too, but I’ve never seen a rate as high as his. Fascinating.”

A God Eater’s effectiveness was heavily influenced by their compatibility with the administered Bias Factor. The higher the rate, the more strongly the factor affected the body—boosting baseline physical ability and healing.

Lindow’s value was abnormal.

“He’ll do,” Johannes muttered.

Then, as if calling a dog, he barked, “Soma.”

What lousy timing.

Soma clicked his tongue and headed back toward Johannes and the others. Lindow shrugged and followed.

At Johannes’s gesture, Soma took position beside Tsubaki.

It was frustrating not to finish things with Lindow—but he’d been recognized as one of the three God Eaters to be deployed. That would have to be enough.

“Now then,” Johannes said, clasping his hands behind his back, “I’ll explain the operation once more.”

“Your mission is to support the coalition forces’ plan to eradicate Aragami across former Russian territory—a campaign spanning the Eurasian continent. Operation Solntse.”

Solntse—"Sun" in the local language.

God Eaters were frequently reassigned to branches across the world, and were required to learn multiple languages as a result.

“The objective of Operation Solntse is the annihilation of Aragami through the manual detonation of first-generation fusion reactors. As you know, the fusion reactors humanity succeeded in developing incorporate the Bias Field properties of oracle cells.”

“Military officials without God Arcs apparently decided to repurpose early experimental reactors sold off by Fenrir—turning them into enormous oracle bombs.”

I see, Soma thought. Clever.

Oracle cell bonds could only be destroyed by oracle cells themselves. By detonating fusion reactors encased in powerful oracle-cell structures, the military intended to wipe out Aragami along with the surrounding area in one stroke.

Humanity had pursued fusion power for decades, aiming for practical use by 2050. If successful, it would free them from the dangers of conventional nuclear power and provide virtually limitless energy.

Old-era nuclear power relied on fission—splitting heavy atoms like uranium or plutonium by bombarding them with neutrons. It was difficult to control and carried immense safety risks.*

High-level radioactive waste with half-lives spanning tens of thousands—or even billions—of years, and catastrophic radiation release in the event of an accident.

Radiation—alpha, beta, gamma, neutrons—devastated living tissue, breaking molecular bonds, damaging DNA, warping cells, and destroying normal division processes.

Instant death was the mercy. High-dose exposure meant slow necrosis of skin, organs, corneas, blood—followed by immune collapse and a painful end.

Even low-dose exposure lingered. Radioactive material scattered into the environment continued emitting radiation for tens of thousands of years.

Fusion was different.

Deuterium and tritium fusion produced primarily helium and neutrons. Helium was harmless—common enough to fill balloons. Deuterium and lithium, used to breed tritium, were abundant in seawater.

The only real danger was high-speed neutrons.

Though neutrons decayed into harmless hydrogen in about fifteen minutes, their lack of charge and high kinetic energy made them extremely penetrating. The human body—seventy percent water—absorbed them readily, resulting in severe radiation damage.

For decades, engineers experimented with layered shielding to slow and absorb neutrons. Fusion also required temperatures approaching one hundred million degrees—far beyond what any material could contain.

Plasma, however, could be confined by magnetic fields.

Even so, neutral neutrons escaped magnetic confinement, making shielding the critical challenge.

Until oracle cells were discovered.

Bias Fields generated by oracle cells could slow even uncharged neutrons.

Conventional metals failed because gravity prevented perfect density at the microscopic level. Oracle cells, by contrast, formed extraordinarily dense and resilient bonds—

…even that problem was overcome with ease.

Bulkheads made from oracle material could withstand the extreme heat of nuclear fusion. The Bias Field slowed incoming neutrons—and then absorbed them. No, devoured them. The oracle cells’ astonishing regenerative capacity rendered even repeated neutron irradiation and the resulting embrittlement meaningless.

At last, humanity had obtained the material it needed to realize its long-cherished dream of fusion power.

But no one had imagined that this living material would form colonies and consume the world itself.

The emergence of the Aragami was a tragedy born from humanity’s rapid shift in energy use—from nuclear fission to fusion.* 

Johannes continued in a level voice.

“The military bureaucrats’ scheme is simple. They intend to flaunt their relevance through this absurd operation and assert themselves against Fenrir. It’s foolish—but humans, unlike Aragami, lack highly organized cores. Politics and personal ties always get in the way. Fenrir Headquarters decided to let them have their moment and dumped the entirety of their support request onto the Far East.”

“Even though the Russian Branch is right there,” Lindow muttered.

“That’s politics for you,” Sakaki replied mildly. “That’s all.”

Johannes cleared his throat and continued.

“As you’ve probably realized, your assignment is to entertain the soldiers—and clean up after them. Let them do as they please. If they fail, return with the moral high ground. That’s all.”

He paused.

“This operation will also include Second Lieutenant Marcel Vignon from the Intelligence Division.”

It was the first time Johannes turned his attention to the man in black.

Judging by his name, he was likely French. The man Soma had stepped aside for at the elevator removed his sunglasses, revealing gray eyes, and gave Tsubaki and the others a polite nod.

“Lieutenant Vignon’s role is diplomatic liaison and technical support for the coalition command. His mission is fundamentally different from yours. He will not be under your command, Lieutenant, nor will he issue orders. Think of him as a passenger.”

Tsubaki frowned slightly, but accepted it.

“Understood.”

“I can’t help being curious about what’s in that attache case,” Sakaki said, adjusting his glasses and staring at Vignon’s handcuffed case.

Vignon glanced sideways at Johannes, gauging his reaction. Johannes snorted softly and smiled.

“A little grease for the wheels, Paylor.”

“I see,” Sakaki replied. “Grease.”

“Very well,” Johannes said. “You may depart, Lieutenant.”

Tsubaki saluted and boarded the helicopter behind them. Lindow and Vignon followed. Their God Arcs and supplies had already been loaded.

The rotor began to spin, the downdraft tugging violently at coats and hair.

As Soma walked toward the helicopter, he glanced once at his father’s face—but Johannes said nothing.

Soma stepped onto the boarding ladder. In his father’s place, Sakaki leaned close and spoke quietly into his ear.

“Be careful, Soma. Especially about what’s inside that case.”

What did he mean by that?

Whatever it was, it wasn’t Soma’s concern. He was going to the battlefield to kill Aragami. That was all he needed to do.

Without answering, Soma took his seat inside the helicopter.

The small fusion engine whined sharply, and the craft lifted off.

On the vast rooftop of the den, the figures of his father and Sakaki grew smaller and smaller.

Good.

At least for a while, he wouldn’t have to see that composed face again.

Soma leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes.

Translation notes/Personal thoughts.

Yeah I decided to finish it up as fast as I could since today, February 4th, is actually the 16th anniversary of God Eater. Thought it was fitting to upload some chapters as some kind of celebration since Bandai probably won’t do anything…

So this chapter is actually a rewrite of the OVA with more things added to it. The ova is also a good short little watch and not to give any spoilers, but this story actually reveals what exactly caused the Aragami to converge like this and what saved Soma, Tsubaki and Lindow’s lives.

Soma’s backstory revealed here is just so much worse than what we get from just the games. He never had a fucking birthday present jfc. And it only gets worse in this chapter and the next!

I’ve seen Eighth Hive used before in I believe the fantranslation of spiral fate, but what it exactly means I’m unsure. It just seems like it might be one of the X amount of branches world wide, the eight to be exact? 

The huge black cube you see in God Eater media is the den and while the anime shows the rooms being above ground, in the actual canon it all takes place underground, that’s why they have the holographic windows, which if you didn’t know, can actually also function as tvs as seen in Undercover.

300 hundred meters above ground and a thousand underground is crazy to think about. For reference, the tallest building is the Burj Khalifa at 828 meters. 

Also, in Japanese the den’s name is actually anagura, which means cellar. It’s one example where I prefer the English translation of den, because of Fenrir’s wolf motif (you know, wolf’s den?)

Soma not liking people walking behind him really fits his character. Even more so because later in the novel you learn why this is and not to spoil too much, but it is indeed a bit of a trauma response. Reminds me of my grandfather who had the same after serving as a marine.

Poor kid. Thinking it would’ve been ‘better’ is a close word for it but what he’s actually saying in Japanese is: at least it would’ve been over, at least the suffering would’ve ended or perhaps better said never begun, at least for Soma. It’s definitely survivors' guilt eating at him and he’s only barely 12 here. 

A kid under the age of 12 reading King Lear seems crazy to me, but in character for Johannes since he’s a crap parent, because King Lear has some pretty brutal scenes from what I heard. Might've misquoted the quote btw.

This one is interesting to point out. Johannes actually refers to Soma as: My foolish son. So why did I leave this out? It’s because he’s not actually calling Soma foolish and I had a hard time thinking of an English equivalent. You see, it’s a humble thing. Basically, from what I understand, in Japanese, when speaking about your own family to others, especially in formal settings, you are expected to downplay them. Not doing so makes you come off as boastful and that's a big no there. I believe it’s also done when talking about the company you work for and your home. So see it as kinda similar to welcoming someone to your ‘humble abode’ or waving off compliments. I was lucky I learned this by coincidence not too long ago or I wouldn't have noticed. 

He kinda does the opposite with calling Lindow Tsubaki's 'pride'.

So there are 7 Units in total, Retaliation, which is the first unit. Defense of the branch which is the second unit and defense of Aegis which is the third unit. And according to Days of ruins, which if you haven’t read yet you can read on my blog too, the 7th unit is a reserve unit and Eric belonged to it. 

So Tsubaki and Lindow both knew about Soma and how the director treated him and yet, just like Sakaki, it seems they never really intervened much. To an extent I get it, but Jesus how can you watch that all happen and not try to do something???

For some reason the author decided to make Lindow’s coat olive instead of blue, so no you didn’t remember the ova wrong. Why they did this I have no clue.

The philtrum is the area between your nose and upper lip, the little ‘dent’ so to say. While for ease of understanding I could’ve technically used mouth, I decided against it as it actually shows just how much combat knowledge Soma has to target specifically that weak point. 

Lindow he’s 12! The fight does show that Soma really is something else if he can go toe to toe with a 20 year old as a 12 year old. 

So God Eaters do indeed spar with each other. I’m both surprised and not tbh. 

All the talk of fusion reactors and nuclear energy and the like was awful to do and I cannot say for certain that it’s all correct. 

I’ll probably go over the origin of Oracle cells in a different post by combining all the material there is about it that I can find.

I really like that there is some clarification as to why the Far East branch was sent on this mission instead of the Russia branch. It makes sense to me, it’s politics and probably also not wishing to sacrifice your own if you can help it, as the coalition forces don’t have an issue sacrificing the Far East God Eaters, but Russian ones might be different.

And as a final treat, here what the Far East branch looks like to according to the artbook.