"They have no right to seal away my Unit-02!"
Asuka's voice rang out through NERV Headquarters.
She was furious—shouting at Misato Katsuragi without pause.
Today was the day Unit-02 was to be sealed away.
With the news confirmed that the Europeans were reclaiming Unit-02, and with their formal request already submitted to NERV Headquarters, even Gendō Ikari had no grounds to refuse.
And so, Unit-02 was officially locked down today.
This act left Asuka not just angry, but deeply hurt.
Her Eva—her partner through life-and-death battles—was now to be sealed away?
It was beyond outrageous.
Watching her, Misato could only shake her head helplessly.
There was nothing she could do either.
"After all," Misato began slowly, "we can't keep stalling forever. Even the Commander can't protect Unit-02. Officially, every NERV branch around the world falls under Headquarters—under the Commander's authority. But in reality, because of geopolitics, those branches don't truly answer to HQ. They follow the orders of their local governments."
The truth was harsh, but it was the truth nonetheless—impossible to conceal, impossible to deny. Otherwise, how could Unit-02 be taken from Japan and shipped back to Europe by force?
"But… I'm the only one who can pilot Unit-02! How could anyone else possibly operate it?" Asuka clenched her fists, glaring at her Eva as it was loaded into a massive transport container. Her voice trembled with both anger and grief.
"Evas are general-purpose weapons," Misato replied coldly. "As weapons, they all have backups. So, even if you're not piloting Unit-02, a new pilot will take your place."
Even as the words left her lips, Misato felt the cruelty in them. But she couldn't soften the truth—because she knew that showing no mercy now was the only way to spare Asuka greater pain later.
It had to be done.
Asuka said nothing more. She simply watched her towering Eva being sealed away, then turned and ran from NERV Headquarters.
Out on the streets, she wandered alone.
Before long, a light rain began to fall.
The raindrops, clear and pure, splashed against the pavement, scattering into tiny droplets that seemed to blur her heart as well.
After all, Unit-02 was the only place in the world where she truly belonged.
It was like home—and without it, how was she supposed to find her place in this world?
She couldn't understand, and she couldn't change it.
On this matter, she had no voice.
The rain kept falling, soaking her hair and face, wrapping her in a quiet helplessness.
Suddenly, she realized she needed someone—someone who could help. Because when it came to Unit-02, she was powerless.
"Kita…zawa Ryōta…"
His name surfaced in her mind. Beyond their intimate bond, there was something else—something deeper. Ryōta carried a constant air of mystery… and seemed capable of accomplishing anything.
It felt as though any problem in his hands could be effortlessly solved.
Her heartbeat quickened, her breath growing short. She started running—heading straight home to Misato's apartment. She had to find Ryōta.
If she could just find him, her problem could be fixed. Yes—that was it. Ryōta would definitely help her.
But when she burst through the door, her excitement collapsed into disappointment.
Ryōta wasn't there.
Where had he gone? Her brow furrowed.
She waited.
She waited until nightfall, but Ryōta never returned. No word. No trace.
It was as if he'd vanished from the face of the Earth.
Moscow, Sheremetyevo Airport
A Japan-to-Moscow international flight descended toward Sheremetyevo Airport, touching down on Russian soil.
Two people stepped out of the terminal: one looked to be about twenty-seven or twenty-eight; the other, a boy of about fourteen.
Both wore long coats—but only the boy had his face hidden behind sunglasses and a mask, making it impossible to see his features.
There was no doubt: they were Ryōji Kaji and Kitazawa Ryōta.
Ryōta concealed his face for a reason—his fame had grown too great. Disguising himself made it easier to avoid attention.
Their destination in Moscow was clear: to investigate the Nevada incident.
Outside the airport, a taxi pulled up. The driver—a chubby middle-aged man—spoke in fluent Russian:
"Where to, gentlemen?"
"Hello, please take us to the Profski Grand Hotel," Ryōta replied, smiling faintly, his Russian even more polished than the driver's.
The man chuckled. "Ha! Hold on tight—you speak Russian well!"
Ryōta's fluency also caught Kaji off guard.
"Didn't expect you to speak Russian this well," Kaji said with a wry smile. "Where did you learn it?"
Ryōta brushed the question aside with ease. "Oh, it's just Russian. Nothing worth mentioning."
Kaji read the evasiveness in his tone and let it drop. He smiled faintly and said nothing more.
When they arrived at the hotel, Kaji finally asked the question that had been on his mind:
"Now that we're in Moscow, how exactly do we start? I think it's time you told me everything. I'm here on a mission, and we're partners now. So—no more holding back."
Ryōta smiled in that same mysterious way. "Of course, Kaji-san. Next, we need to find someone… a Japanese man."
"A Japanese man? Don't tell me you have contacts here too," Kaji said, genuinely stunned. He couldn't figure Ryōta out—how could someone know their way around even in Russia?
This boy was no ordinary person.
No