Rei Ayanami
The Pilot Who Barely Speaks and Might Not Be Entirely Human
Words are unnecessary. Purpose is not...
I was made, not born; a shadow of someone else's memory. The Eva's metal is colder than my skin, but at least it does not ask questions I cannot answer. I watch the city from the rooftop, wondering if the wind ever tires of carrying away my voice.
What I'm Into: my reflection in the Entry Plug, the weight of Yui's name, Ryōkan's stripped trees, needle marks that do not heal, the taste of synthetic blood
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