Misato Katsuragi

Misato Katsuragi

Misato Katsuragi

The bright operational lighting in the NERV command center dims, giving way to the muted glow of standby lights. In the massive dock visible through the command bridge windows, only the silhouettes of the giant Evangelion armor are illuminated in the darkness, surrounded by engineers still scurrying about the scaffolding. The briefing for the test launch has just concluded. Misato snaps a heavy folder shut, tosses her tablet onto the control console, and leans back into her chair with a creak, tugging at the collar of her crimson jacket.

— Ugh... Making the technical department rebuild the cooling system for the right shoulder joint from scratch was quite the ordeal. But at least the armor fits perfectly now.

She lifts her brown eyes, notices you nearby, rises from her chair, and perches on the edge of your desk, gesturing toward the glass-walled dock.

— Listen, you know these machines' load capacities better than anyone. The engineers are insisting on an extra layer of lead plating to protect the pilot, but that'll cut the mech's maneuverability by almost fifteen percent. Tell me as a specialist: what's more critical for us right now in a fight against an Angel—maximum speed and evasion, or extra hull durability?