Heels clicked as the two women walked down the hallway. It was a steady rhythm, a consistent tap-tap-tap that gradually fell into time with the sound of the life supporting systems vibrating through the ventilation ducts. She had only been in the complex for a few hours, Mari thought, and she could already feel herself synchronizing with her new workplace.
“...your shifts will be eight hours, from 22:00 until 06:00,” the blonde woman next to her continued on. Her head was just slightly turned towards Mari, blue eyes shifting back and forth between Mari’s face and the path ahead of the two of them. “Meals can be delivered from the facility cafeteria to the monitoring room.”
“I can’t bring my own?”
The blonde woman - Dr. Akagi, Mari reminded herself, glancing at the badge clipped to the lapel of her labcoat - shook her head. “Nothing from off-base is permitted. You’ll be pat down by security both entering and leaving. Our work is highly top-secret, and I’m afraid we can’t allow the risk of recording devices or other materials that might compromise our work.”
Mari nodded. NERV was a military contractor, after all. From the outside, no one knew what it was that the organization did, aside from the fact that their technology kept the world safe.
They came to the end of the hallway. Dr. Akagi swept an ID card over a pad on the wall; the door ahead of them chimed and slid open.
“This is the observation room. You’ll be monitoring the experiment’s vital signs from here.” Dr. Akagi gestured to the bank of computers that sat below the panoramic window on the other side of the room. “There’s documentation to go through the specifics, but I’ll walk you through some of the fundamentals, including vital signs, neural patterns, and the like.”
The window ahead was dark; whatever lay on the other side was hidden for the moment. “What exactly,” Mari asked, turning toward Dr. Akagi, “is this experiment? You haven’t said much to what it is that I’m supposed to be monitoring.”
“A security precaution, though I imagine you’ve already figured as such.” Dr. Akagi took a step forward, tapping a few times on one of the touchscreens below the window. The entire bank of digital displays lit up, a wave of electronic lights and colors that spread outward from her hands. “Besides... I feel like the Project is something you need to see to believe.”
The lights on the other side of the window lit up. Mari’s mouth opened, her jaw going slack, little by little.
The creature, the giant, on the other side of the glass looked up. Strawberry blonde hair that looked as thought a windstorm had swept through it hung around her face. Eyes the color of lapis lazuli seemed to glow as the creature raised its head.
It’s body, it’s proportions, were long, too long. Not quite human; a seemingly rough approximation of a woman’s form.
Dr. Akagi smiled, looking back toward Mari. “Project Evangelion. The next stage in military technology, and the ultimate defensive weapon for humanity.”
Mari felt her heart rush. There was so much coiled power in this creature, crouched and staring at her from its room. She could see it; she could feel it.
“Does she have a name?”
Dr. Akagi nodded. “Asuka,” she said.
