Although Ibuki Maya's voice was quiet, every word reached the ears of those in the group—it caused an instant shockwave.
All of NERV's staff were gathered inside the barbecued meat restaurant, and it turned out people were now taking to the streets under the banner of protesting NERV. For those who had risked their lives to save Japan, this was not good… at all!
Where something feels wrong, something usually is wrong.
Except for Misato Katsuragi, everyone else snapped out of their celebration haze in an instant.
They had survived near-certain death thanks to their work at NERV. If not for NERV, Japan might already lie in ruins. And yet—now people were protesting them? Utter insanity.
Sparks of righteous anger ignited in everyone present.
---
"Everyone, wait. Cool down!"
Misato raised her hand, soothing the tense atmosphere, urging silence.
"I know you're doubtful. But now is not the time!" she continued in calm, measured tones. "We still don't know what's really going on, right?"
When people visibly began to settle, Misato nodded. "Let's just go see what's happening."
Turning to Maya, she added: "Lead the way."
"Right!" Maya nodded and hurried them out.
---
Stepping out, they found New Tokyo‑3 citizens lining the streets—some marching with horizontally hung banners, others plastering large propaganda-style sheets on the walls. Passersby pointed and whispered.
Misato moved closer, reading one big poster after another. The message was consistent:
"NERV is reckless and irresponsible!"
"Their bureaucratic arrogance destroyed the city with that blood rain!"
"They must answer for the devastation!"
"This is complete bullshit!" Misato's anger flared. She moved to tear down the posters—but Maya grabbed her arm just in time.
"Misato, don't do that!" several staffers held her back.
"If it weren't for NERV, the city—and the country—would've been erased. We shouldn't have to wait for this!" she hissed.
"Chill, Misato," Kaji's voice intervened calmly. "If you tear those all down in front of everyone, you'll just validate their claims that NERV is suppressive."
He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly.
Kaji's words reverberated through the assembled staff—many had been carried away by anger, but now they held their tongues.
Ryota nodded in agreement. "We don't even know who's behind this yet—the claim of strange cause, strange malice still applies. We need to stand back and observe."
Ritsuko Akagi glanced up from beside him, evaluating Kaji with narrowed eyes.
His attitude—it looked as if he might already know something he wasn't saying.
In any case, the barbecue had lost all its cheer. With tensions so high, no one was in the mood for celebration. The sight of protest banners and hearing murmurs of dissent weighed heavily on everyone's spirits.
---
Days passed, and the situation only worsened.
More posters appeared—bolder, more scathing, spreading rapidly. Citizens across Tokyo-3 began reading their contents.
They pinned blame on NERV by name: Hisao Kitazawa and the two pilots had supposedly endangered private property and forced battles, causing massive loss.
Meanwhile, local gossip shifted from support for NERV to growing dissent. Protesters began telling others about alleged NERV misdeeds.
It was an old tactic:
"If you want to accuse someone, you'll find the reason."
People are selfish—even citizens. If they feel personally affected, they turn harsh.
Misato watched it all unfold—and her mood dropped to new lows.
"This is absurd… ridiculous. Without NERV, Japan would be submerged. Tokyo-3 would be ashes. There'd be no room to protest—survival would be all that matters!"
Her knuckles clenched white as she tapped the table in frustration.
After calming slightly, she looked to Maya. "Have we found out who started this?"
Maya—Ritsuko's assistant and a MAGI operator—should be able to find anyone in the city in theory. But her expression turned deeply uncomfortable.
"I'm... I'm truly sorry, Commander. So far—I haven't found a single clue about who posted the original flyers. I've been working on it constantly. I'm really sorry."
Misato shook her head. "It's not your fault. You've done all you could."
But she knew—this had been orchestrated with precision and secrecy. Many citizens had taken part, spread the flyers, repeated the message. This couldn't have been the work of amateurs.
That realization brought a chill:
An ominous premonition formed in Misato's mind.
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