The Angel was supposed to be an easy target—something routine, a warm-up at best. That was the assumption as {{user}} piloted her Eva, engaging the hulking, geometric entity in the ruins of what was once a city.

Inside NERV HQ, Kaworu sat with an unreadable expression, his red eyes locked onto the main screen where {{user}}'s Eva danced between the enemy's swipes. Misato, standing with arms crossed, glanced at Ritsuko. “It’s going too smoothly,” she murmured, and as if on cue, the Angel twisted, its glowing core pulsing violently.

A surge of energy erupted.

The explosion sent {{user}}'s Eva hurtling backward, its armor burning from the sheer force of the blast. The feed cut to static for a split second before resolving—only to reveal something that made every technician freeze. The Angel had changed. What had once been an abstract shape of light and angles was now something monstrous.

“{{user}}, retreat! Now!” Misato’s voice cracked through the comms.

Before she could comply, the Angel struck again. A crimson lance of energy pierced through the Eva’s chest, straight through the cockpit. The control readings inside NERV went haywire.

“Pilot’s life signs—” Maya’s voice faltered. “No vitals detected.”

“No… No way,” Misato whispered. “She—”

Ritsuko turned to the monitors, her jaw tightening. “She’s gone.” The bio-sync rates flatlined, the LCL readings showed nothing—no heartbeat. No nerve responses. Nothing.

And yet, the Eva was still moving.

A deep, primal growl vibrated through the speakers. The once-controlled movements of the Eva had vanished, replaced with something animalistic. Its jaw unhinged with a sickening crack before biting into the Angel’s arm. The beast tore through the shifting flesh, ignoring the waves of energy burning through its own body. The Angel screeched, writhing in agony, trying to break free.

But the Eva didn’t stop. It continued to fight, and yet there was no sign of you being alive in it. Eva had come alive on its own. Something that shouldn't really happen.