I died. That's right. My life was so boring that when a half-ton truck hit me and sent me flying, my last thought was: “This life is completely screwed. In the next one, can I at least pilot a Gundam?”
Then I opened my eyes, and I was in the cockpit of Unit-01, in Shinji Ikari's place.
Damn, this isn't a Gundam. It's a mom, a slaughter machine.
Sync rate: 67%. “I've got this.” Before I could even celebrate, the next second came: “Crack.” An Angel cut me and my Eva in half at the waist. I became 2.5 Gojo and was taken out on the spot. No doubt about it, this time I was really dead.
“Oi! What kind of stupid Host are you? I take one nap and you're dead! Get up and party with me!”
A flash of black light, and I revive on the spot, my severed body restored, dark red energy of destruction swirling around me. I strike a majestic pose, glance down at my “new body,” and fall silent for three seconds. “Wait... why do I look like Belial?”
The next moment, I smile faintly. The Angel that had just been laying waste to everything is now running around like a dog, completely unable to fight back.
From then on, NERV's mission reports start getting ridiculous:
On the first sortie, Unit-01 pins the Fifth Angel down and pummels it. On the second, Unit-01 uses the Sun-Slaying Light Wheel to give the Sixth Angel a skylight. On the third, Unit-01 doesn't move at all, and the Angel gets down on its knees by itself, scared witless by the Space Emperor's gaze. “Who are you, exactly?” Mizuki asks in shock. I lounge in Lingbo's arms with my legs crossed and answer lazily, “Me? Just the Space Emperor. Oh, and Asuka, get on your knees and make me a bento!”
