The Trash Returned from Warhammer

”The moment for you to prove your value has arrived.”

This sentence jolted Ritsuko Akagi into action. She subconsciously looked toward the Commander’s seat; it was empty. She turned to look at the bewildered Fuyutsuki, who awkwardly looked away.

’Right. He abandoned me, which makes it all the more important that I prove my worth.’

Grief was instantly replaced by anger. With the crisp sound of her heels, Ritsuko straightened her posture and walked to the front as she always did. One hand flew across the keyboard, her eyes scanning the data, and she soon had an answer.

”An infiltration-type Angel. It clung to something like a bacterium and was brought into headquarters, thereby bypassing the EVA interception. Hmm, Block B? This was built during the time of the Fourth Angel. As I suspected, the Angels have long been on Earth, just awakening in sequence.”

”Pull up the area where the infection first occurred. Visual observation.”

”Yes.”

Her efficiency was extremely high. Her mutterings had a hint of deductive brilliance that made Shinji nod repeatedly. When it came to researching Angels, Ritsuko Akagi was the strongest expert, bar none.

An image popped up: severed limbs floating in the fluid, their surfaces covered in red moss like a skin disease. The flickering appearance looked exactly like some sort of biological breathing.

’A bacterial Angel. Thinking outside the box, are we?’

Shinji narrowed his eyes. The alien nature of Angels was truly blasphemous; to avoid the faithful Bolter, it had morphed into this.

’Can’t beat me, so you just quit fighting, huh?’

Ritsuko was in the zone. Untouched by emotion, she grasped the situation in the shortest time and quickly began to study the essence of the 11th Angel.

”Is it targeting multiple objectives simultaneously? Advancing into Terminal Dogma while heading toward the hangar... Launch the EVAs to the surface immediately. No problem, right, Shinji-kun?”

She sought Shinji’s opinion first. He considered it for a moment and nodded decisively: ”Agreed. If the EVAs are eroded, everything is over. Notify Rei and Asuka to board the EVAs directly on the surface.”

”Turn off the alarms. Report to the Japanese government and the UN that NERV is conducting internal drills; all information regarding the Angel is part of the drill.”

With a deep, gravelly voice, Gendo Ikari finally arrived at the command center. This command stunned everyone; they hadn’t realized this problem. The outside world didn’t know that Lilith was kept in Terminal Dogma. Since contact between an Angel and Adam equaled the Third Impact, if that news got out, they might be covered by a wave of N2 mines.

Shinji glanced at him and nodded: ”Do as he says.”

’What do you mean, ’do as I say’...?’

Gendo took a breath. He hadn’t seen Shinji in a long time; he was just as annoying as he had anticipated. Looking at Ritsuko and Misato, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. Shinji was like a hoe that had almost hollowed out his independent kingdom. Why was this happening? Was fifteen years of preparation really worth less than the boy’s half-year?

No one cared what he thought. More data was analyzed, and everyone huddled around the computer, listening to Ritsuko.

”Pay attention. In the simulation area, the infection source is spreading in all directions, but this area remains clean.”

Everyone looked closely. The infected zone had a pocket of pure space—it was a pure-oxygen zone created to prevent bacterial infection.

”This Angel doesn’t like the ozone layer?”

Shinji understood instantly. He was no brute, nor did he pin all his hopes on the EVAs.

”It appears so. Anaerobic? Aoba, increase ozone injection. See if we can stop it.”

”Yes, ozone injection initiated.”

The vents at the bottom of the pool opened. With churning bubbles, the ozone index skyrocketed. Everyone watched the screen tensely, and moments later, a cheer broke out.

”It’s working! The erosion rate has slowed; it’s dropped to 37%.”

”Increase the injection rate. Max out the concentration.”

”Yes.”

’It really slowed down.’

Shinji also saw that the Angel’s ”breathing” frequency was decreasing. The eroded area remained stuck on the main conduit.

’It’s that simple?’

He had never underestimated human intelligence, nor did he insist on using brute force to solve everything, but this weakness was too obvious. Since the Ireul knew to launch a sneak attack, how could it leave such a glaring weakness exposed?

”Wait a second. Stop the injection.”

”Huh?”

Before Hyuga could operate the controls, Ritsuko had already hit the pause button. She lacked Shinji’s combat intuition, but she observed that the data was wrong. The Ireul’s breathing frequency was weakening, but its heat output was surging. This didn’t look like biological decay.

”Erosion is continuing. The ozone content in the simulation pool is dropping. The Angel is absorbing the ozone.”

”Waveform analysis changing.”

”Amazing... is it evolving?”

Ritsuko’s pupils contracted, and Shinji frowned.

”Its psychic power is growing.”

Different perspectives led to the same result. The sudden, blaring alarm startled everyone.

”B-block data port breached. Identity unknown. Firewall deployed. Firewall bypassed—it’s so fast! Reverse tracing initiated.”

”Switch to manual mode. Isolate the breached zone.”

”It’s not working. All firewalls bypassed.”

”Reverse tracing complete. Coordinates: B-block basement!”

The sound of frantic keyboard-tapping filled the air. Shinji saw the red light spots of the Angel on the main screen turn gold, shifting from irregular patterns to something resembling a circuit diagram.

’Bio-computer???’

Shinji understood immediately and looked at Ritsuko: ”You’ve been baited. It’s using the continuous stimulation of the ozone to evolve.”

”Evolving into a hacker? Physically cut off B-block’s power! Quickly!”

”Command rejected. Automated circuits are unresponsive.”

”Security department’s main database breached. Password cracking—12-bit, 16-bit. Its calculation speed is too fast.”

”Security database unlocked. Internal files being read. Code emitted—no! The Angel is infiltrating MAGI via the data chain!”

Shinji saw a mass of green data chains turn red. The Angel’s calculation speed was leagues beyond what a few humans tapping keys could handle. He said nothing; this wasn’t his area of expertise, only sighing helplessly.

’I knew it. AI is inherently unfaithful.’

After experiencing the revolt of the Iron Men, the 41st Millennium was deeply distrustful of AI. Even if it was highly efficient and could save time and manpower, fueling humanity’s glorious Golden Age, without AI, some High Lords might drop dead from exhaustion, but with AI, the Imperium would explode on the spot, and Exterminatus orders would be handed out like candy. To raise a tool’s access to such a level, making it the foundation of a fortress’s operation, was just plain stupid.

He saw Ritsuko covered in cold sweat, the staff pounding their keyboards so hard sparks were flying, and even Gendo stood up.

”Cut all power. Stop MAGI.”

Hyuga and Aoba pulled out their keys. They counted down three, two, one, and turned them simultaneously—but the power did not cut off.

”It’s no use! Automated control terminal vetoed. Power cannot be cut.”

Hearing this, Shinji finally couldn’t take it anymore.

”When you designed this, did you never think of using a simpler way to kill the power?”

”Uh, that’s too unreliable. Headquarters has countless zones. If we shut everything off with one key, it’d be a disaster. All circuits are handled by the automated system.”

”I think your system is what’s unreliable.”

Shinji didn’t know how to scold them. How could humans create a weapon they couldn’t control? Wasn’t that a joke? In the 41st Millennium, you’d just pull the master switch; who would fear a hacker then?

The Angel wouldn’t wait for him to finish yelling. The digital infiltration continued as it followed the security terminals into the central database.

”Angel contacting Melchior. Firewall broken. Angel beginning reprogramming.”

Three green rectangular patterns appeared on the main screen—Melchior.1, Balthasar.2, and Casper.3, representing the three parts of MAGI. Then, an electronically synthesized voice sounded.

[AI Melchior proposes headquarters self-destruct. MAGI deliberating. Vetoed.]

[AI Melchior proposes headquarters self-destruct for the second time. MAGI deliberating. Vetoed.]

”What is this?”

Shinji pointed at the screen, looking bewildered yet profoundly shocked.

”You gave the self-destruct authority for NERV HQ to this AI???”

’These idiots actually granted an AI self-destruct authorization? Wow, if the Imperium dared to do that, the Imperial Palace on Terra would be the first to turn into a giant firework.’

Self-destruct systems should be the most loyal of mechanical structures, activated manually by loyal warriors with the determined will to return their souls to the Golden Throne.

”Uh, we didn’t expect an invasive Angel that could bypass firewalls and make physical contact. Besides, each of the three personalities has veto power; they must all agree.”

Ritsuko was drenched in sweat. She never expected the Angel to double as a hacker.

”Then I have to thank you. Otherwise, if I returned to the Golden Throne, I wouldn’t know how to explain this to the Emperor.”

Shinji stared intently at the screen. The blue box representing Melchior.1 had already turned red, as if water-logged. Balthasar.2 began to turn red too, while the group of idiots could do nothing but pound on their keyboards.

Shinji looked toward the red covers on both sides of the command center—beneath those were the physical cores of MAGI. Just as he prepared to gather his psychic energy to destroy the computer physically, Ritsuko finally thought of a way.

”Change logic mode. Set all commands to a 15-second delay.”

”Yes.”

She changed the CPU clock sequence, stretching the calculation cycle. The frantic alarms suddenly slowed, and the encroaching red color froze. Everyone let out long breaths, the operators nearly collapsing in their chairs. They never expected their most relied-upon tool to become their enemy.

”Did we stop it?”

”Only delayed its speed.”

Ritsuko moved a chair over and sat down, saying solemnly: ”This Angel is evolving. Its body is the size of bacteria, and countless individuals have formed a thought matrix, ultimately becoming a system that can handle any situation.”

The explanation was highly abstract, or rather, everything happening so far felt abstract to Shinji, but one thing was clear: the Ireul was ”smarter” than the previous Angels. This intelligence referred to biological instinct—the purest form of instinct.

”Then we have no choice but to take it down with us. Let it perish along with MAGI.”

Misato had already thought of a solution.

”No. The entire underground city is controlled by MAGI. Without her, we can’t even launch the EVAs. Abandoning MAGI is equivalent to abandoning Headquarters.”

Seeing Shinji quietly turning around, Ritsuko stood up hurriedly.

”Don’t be rash! The current Angel is very cunning. What if it’s only invaded a part of MAGI and hasn’t fully integrated, trying to bait us?”

Shinji paused. He had been ready to act; he’d hated this AI from the start anyway.

”You mean it hasn’t fully transferred into digital life and is betting everything on MAGI’s self-destruct?”

”It’s possible. Baiting us into destroying MAGI while failing to annihilate the Angel—that would be much worse than just a mutual destruction.”

Ritsuko clearly had her own selfish motives, but her explanation held merit. Humanity had invested too many resources into this AI. Without it, every sensor in the underground city would fail, and the surface automated artillery batteries would lose their guidance (though that wasn’t an issue for Shinji).

How was this solved in the 41st Millennium? By piling on the bodies, of course. One person operating a warship vs. ten thousand people operating one—the effect wasn’t that different.

”What’s your idea?”

Shinji turned around.

”Evolution’s ultimate destination is destruction. I can use MAGI to link with the Angel and reverse-input a destruction command.”

Ritsuko’s brain was spinning at full speed. She knew this boy could detonate her own mother in a second.

”The cost?”

”Open all firewalls and compete with the Angel in calculation speed.”

”Success rate?”

”Unknown. Because I don’t know how much power the Angel has invested in MAGI. If it’s using its full strength, maybe less than 20%.”

”Rejected. I will not gamble the fate of humanity on those 20-percent odds.”

Shinji’s reply left her despairing. She couldn’t help but look at Gendo, but the man remained silent, as if he trusted Shinji more in his heart.

When it came to researching Angels, Ritsuko was the strongest expert, but when it came to solving the problem of an Angel, no one understood it better than Shinji.

In his absolute rationality, Shinji bore no emotion. Likewise, he didn’t blame Ritsuko for her selfishness; her point had been valid.

”Follow me, all of you. I have an approach, and at the very least, the odds are better than 20 percent.”

Shinji beckoned them over. He didn’t understand AI, nor did he understand ”infinite evolution” or ”digital life,” but he was an expert in one thing:

Erasing the enemy on a physical level.

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