The air remained thick, something close to palpable. If it gave itself as tension, Ayanami wasn't one to notice. It simply filtered as attention. Drawn to the fulfillment of space in the air near her. The other spoke words. The Fifth Child, he had said. It didn't seem to underline his purpose. It was a flawed title. Like the words he was speaking. Some transcendent and some that faded away.

She glanced back, as always, unfathomable. "I do not know you," she answered. "Your knowledge of myself is only what you've said. You do not know me."

If there was an enunciation on the last word, it was barely noticeable. One could not know another truly. Not like this, if at all. Still, his last sentence pulled her attention. A similarity, then. Something. This time she kept the gaze, staring at him.