The immense ecological wound left by the Angel Ramiel is being repaired at a rate exceeding NERV's most optimistic environmental forecasts, thanks to the continuous and highly effective action of the "Metatron's Seed."
The area, once covered in ominous crimson and nearly devoid of life, now boasts clear seawater. New, tenacious green life is beginning to sprout from the wet mud along the coastline, marking yet another remarkable achievement for the Ninth Institute in the field of ecological restoration.
During this rare period of peaceful recovery, Shinji Ikari became a frequent visitor to the Ninth Institute.
This gradually reviving azure stretch of sea felt like his "safe harbor," a place to escape battle, orders, and inner turmoil. Influenced by Osiris' demeanor—a mix of rigorous scholar and gentle elder brother (Osiris never pressured him to speak but patiently answered his every question, no matter how simple)—subtle but continuous changes began to take place in Shinji.
Genuine, relaxed smiles occasionally appeared on his pale face. When speaking, his voice, though still soft, was no longer consistently mumbled or in need of repeated clarification. He began to grow curious about his surroundings, proactively asking Osiris about the symbiotic mechanisms of certain corals or the relationship between the tides and marine microorganism distribution.
Sometimes, when Osiris was preoccupied with data, Shinji would even offer to help record the culture numbers or the periodic changes in water temperature, his initial carefulness gradually giving way to practiced skill.
During this tranquil time, the teenagers' daily lives brought a rare warmth to the cold NERV system.
On the day Shinji brought his classmates, the sea breeze was pleasant. Kensuke Aida shouted excitedly, pointing at the colorful fish in the rearing tanks, while Toji Suzuhara was more interested in the massive water circulation system.
Shinji stood between them, slightly nervous, yet diligently recalling the knowledge he had learned from Osiris to explain the symbiotic relationship between the coral and the small fish to his friends.
"These are Damselfish. They help the coral clean parasites—" Shinji's voice was hesitant at first but gained fluency under the focused gaze of his friends.
Sunlight filtered through the seawater, casting dancing reflections on the ceiling. The figures of the boys stretched down the corridor, and the air was filled with the fresh scent of the sea.
Rei Ayanami's arrival was always quiet.
She would appear in the afternoon, treading the corridor floor warmed by the sun, like a silent, deep-sea fish slipping into this azure world. The slanting sun was perfect, the golden glow piercing the huge observation window, bathing the entire aquarium in a shimmering, vibrant light.
Countless light spots leaped across the water's surface, like a flowing dreamscape.
She would stand quietly before the glass, her pale fingertips unconsciously touching the cool surface. Schools of Golden Trevally swam leisurely past her, their scales catching the light in a fine, golden shimmer.
Once, a curious orange-and-white Clownfish paused in front of her, its puffy cheeks pressed against the glass, its gill cover opening and closing softly.
Rei tilted her head slightly, her hair swaying with the movement. This unintentional, small gesture was quietly noted by Shinji from a short distance away, causing him to temporarily forget the observation records in his hand.
Osiris would occasionally approach her, his footsteps hushed.
He handed Rei a small box of fish food, the wrapping paper softly gleaming in the light.
The girl would always pause for a moment upon taking it, then, imitating Shinji's routine, carefully pinch a small amount of feed and hold her hand suspended over the water.
When she spread her fingers, the fine particles drifted like stardust onto the surface, and the previously calm fish instantly became active.
Colorful figures eagerly leaped, creating fine ripples on the water.
Rei Ayanami's pupils widened slightly as she watched the small commotion she had caused.
In the red eyes of the girl, who was usually devoid of expression, a faint glimmer seemed to surface, like the first delicate crack on the surface of ice in early spring.
Shinji pretended to arrange equipment nearby, but his gaze couldn't help but track her every subtle reaction.
He noticed her breathing rhythm changed; when a daring Surgeonfish lightly brushed her fingertip, her shoulder showed an almost imperceptible curve of relaxation.
These minute changes were like pebbles dropped into a lake, rippling outwards in his heart.
Osiris stood a little distance away, neither too close nor deliberately aloof.
He watched the sunlight turn the girl's blue hair pale gold and saw the fish gather and disperse around her, finding the afternoon extraordinarily tranquil.
This tranquility was not only healing this stretch of sea but was also quietly changing everyone who came near it.
Shinji sometimes brought his textbooks to the Institute, sitting in the lounge area with a sea view to do his homework. He would unconsciously chew on his pen when facing a difficult problem, a habitual gesture that made Osiris, recording nearby, smile faintly.
Kensuke and Toji occasionally ran over to ask him math questions. The three boys discussing together around the table seemed much more comfortable than they were in the classroom.
Even the Institute staff gradually grew accustomed to the presence of these young visitors. Researcher Tanaka would set aside the latest cultured starfish specimens for the students to observe, and Miyuki Suzuki would slip them photocopies of marine life identification guides as they left.
These fragmented moments of daily life gently washed over the scars of war like a tide. On this newly reborn coast, the teenagers were finally able to temporarily set aside the heavy burden of being saviors and simply enjoy the peaceful time appropriate for their age.
Osiris stood by the laboratory window, watching Shinji and his classmates walk away side by side in the sunset, and found this observation result quite satisfactory.
In Osiris' calm observation, the naturally budding emotional bond between Shinji Ikari and Rei Ayanami became a unique research window.
He clearly recognized the profound link between the pilots' mental state and the EVA's combat effectiveness. This recognition was not born of cold calculation, but from his eternal curiosity as a researcher about the fundamental nature of life.
When the sunset stretched their figures, and when Shinji's eyes subtly brightened due to Rei's minute reaction, Osiris would write brief observation notes in the corner of his data pad.
He was not recording the fleeting moment of youthful affection, but the potential impact of this emotional connection on the pilots' synchronization rate, stress response, and combat will.
To Shinji and all who interacted with him, Osiris consistently remained the gentle scholar who patiently explained marine knowledge by the sea and provided aid to injured marine life. The fingers with which he handed Shinji a chilled drink, the gesture with which he opened the observation room glass door for Rei, all carried genuine warmth.
These actions were not a disguise, but his way of understanding the world—gaining the most direct knowledge through personal participation.
But beneath all these interactions, Osiris maintained a sharp awareness. He would offer encouragement at just the right moment when Shinji was feeling down, and linger for a moment longer to explain when Rei showed rare interest in a marine organism.
These behaviors stemmed from genuine goodwill but also served as a continuous assessment of the pilots' psychological status.
Late at night, Osiris would organize the day's observations, occasionally adding a few lines of notes about the pilots' interaction patterns alongside the "Metatron's Seed" environmental data.
He knew clearly that this azure sea was not only nurturing new life but was also cultivating a more complex emotional ecology. And understanding this ecology, perhaps, was just as important as understanding the Angels.
This dual perspective was not contradictory, much like seawater can both reflect the azure sky and hold the dark currents of the deep.
Osiris was both the researcher who would smile faintly at the innocent interactions of the teenagers and the observer who always remembered why he had come here.
In this world full of miracles and pain, he chose to exist in this way—both deeply involved and maintaining distance; both offering care and remaining clear-headed.