— Embrace the hatred within you… Argus.
Those were the last words Shinji heard before sinking into a deep darkness for what felt like an eternity, until a voice echoed within him, resonating through his entire being:
[ Sequence 1 of Envy: The Observer ]
— What's that…?
He finally opened his eyes, still disoriented. His throat was dry, but the pain no longer weighed on him.
What he saw wasn't the Zephyr, the butcher, or the men in black robes.
His gaze fell on a soft light filtering through dusty curtains.
He was in a dimly lit room. The air was stale, the windows seemingly unopened for years.
He gradually began to recover, both mentally and physically. Though the pain was gone, his muscles still bore the weight of the blows he'd received. Purple bruises marked his arms, and his outfit—a simple white t-shirt and black joggers—carried traces of dried blood.
As he looked around, he realized he knew this room.
He… hated it.
— No…
The yellowed wallpaper. The clothes piled in a crumpled heap in the corner of the room.
This room was his bedroom, the one where he'd endlessly wandered.
— Mom, Dad…
Those words came back to him again, but their faces remained erased from his memory.
— Why…
This was the room where he'd locked himself away after their deaths.
He scanned the room again, as if searching for answers to his questions.
Then he saw it.
On the bed, a boy, his gaze empty—the same gaze as the girl Shinji had abandoned at the market.
— Is that… me?
He wanted to approach, to place a hand on the boy's shoulder, but his hand passed through him, turning into white smoke upon contact.
At that moment, Shinji understood this wasn't just a dream. He was reliving a memory, and it wasn't by chance.
The boy rose from the bed, showing no trace of motivation.
He began rummaging through the room. Under the bed, under his desk. He even checked behind the curtains.
— Neko?
The boy's voice was laced with anguish, as if he feared the worst.
Shinji felt his throat tighten.
— Not this. Not today…
He realized this wasn't just a dream. He was reliving a memory, and it wasn't by chance.
Everything that followed came flooding back.
— I… I don't want to see this again, Shinji murmured.
He wanted to close his eyes, to scream. He wanted to escape this scene, but he was its prisoner.
The boy began to waver and nearly collapsed onto his desk.
He remembered. Neko had slipped out the back door the previous night and hadn't returned by the time he fell asleep.
A chilling cold surged through his body, and Shinji felt that same cold.
The same shiver ran through them both.
— Neko… You're all I have left. Don't abandon me too…
The boy whispered those words, staring at a photo on the desk.
Shinji approached, though he knew he could change nothing. He recognized the image—a photo taken in a hospital room. His mother was supposed to be smiling faintly, holding a swaddled newborn, while his father was supposed to be gently stroking her head.
But he couldn't see their faces, as if he refused to face them.
The boy sank to his knees. Unable to hold back, he burst into sobs.
Shinji, trapped in this memory-dream, couldn't tear his eyes away from the boy—himself.
— You can still save him. Move. Don't waste time, Shinji!
He shouted desperately, but the boy didn't react.
— What are you waiting for? Get up!
The boy couldn't hear him, yet he eventually stood. He slipped on his old gray tracksuit, the one he hadn't worn since his parents' funeral.
Each movement seemed to carry a hidden pain, as if dressing himself weighed a ton.
— You managed to leave that day… You really wanted to live. I'd forgotten.
Shinji found himself envying the boy he'd been. He felt ashamed of the man he'd become, a man with no reason to go on.
The boy walked through the house's corridors before opening the front door. The sunlight blinded him. He squinted and stepped back a few paces.
He finally stepped out slowly, Shinji following like a shadow.
They moved through the neighborhood's alleys.
With each step, the boy hesitated. He stopped to check under hedges, in wall corners, behind trash bins, in bushes. He wanted to be sure not to miss Neko, his last tether.
— That's not where he is. You're wasting time!
Shinji, powerless, trailed the boy, trying to make him avoid the mistakes he'd once made.
— Go straight to the park! He's there, you're supposed to know that!
But the boy followed only his panicked instinct. He searched in all the wrong places, as if afraid of truly finding something.
Then, suddenly, he stopped.
— He must be at the park. He always liked sleeping under the benches.
Shinji felt his heart race, his hope rekindling in that moment.
— Go! Run! You still have time!
The boy broke into a run.
But he moved slowly. He dragged his feet, exhaustion weighing him down, no energy left in him.
— No… Faster! You don't understand what's coming!
Shinji envied the boy's ignorance. He wished he could take control, shake his former self, and reach the park before it was too late.
— I've seen this scene before. I know how it ends. And I can't do anything about it? Seriously?
The park was just two streets away. But the boy stopped.
At the corner of the final intersection, he saw something he'd never forget. A scene that showed him how cruel the world could be.
He saw a woman with her child in her arms walking on the other side of the street when a man with a knife stopped beside them.
The woman screamed, trying to shield her child with everything she had.
— Shut up! the man yelled before turning to the boy.
— Get lost, brat, or you'll end up like them!
The boy lowered his eyes and kept walking; he didn't have the courage to act.
Shinji, too, froze in that moment.
He turned toward the scene. He was reliving it all.
— I looked away… To save time… For Neko.
He still felt that guilt. And he hated it.
But now, he finally understood:
— I didn't look away out of cowardice. I did it… because I still believed in something.
He recalled the moment he abandoned the young girl at the market.
— I was already a monster…
The boy finally reached the park. He was breathless, his lungs empty.
And there…
The park stretched out before them, bathed in golden light.
Autumn leaves fell slowly from the trees, carried by a gentle breeze. The park was empty. At this hour, that wasn't normal for the boy. He felt an eerie calm, like the quiet before a storm.
And then, he saw Neko.
The small white cat was stretching in the sunlight, in the shade of a bench.
The boy ran. He stumbled as he crossed the road toward the park.
— Neko! I was so scared for you… Where were you?
He knelt beside Neko, who opened his eyes, meowed softly, and rubbed against him.
The boy scooped him into his arms, and for the first time in a long while, he smiled.
Shinji, witnessing the scene, felt something melt inside him.
— It was true. That day, I was ready to live again.
He heard his own words again, the ones he'd whispered while holding Neko:
— It's over. I'm going to change. I'm going to live. For you, for Mom, and for Dad.
He'd made that promise and sworn to keep it.
But then…
— No… No, no, no… Neko, stay here. Stay in my arms. Don't go…
Neko leapt from the boy's arms and darted toward the road.
Shinji screamed:
— No! Don't do it! Don't go!
As the cat crossed the street, the boy shot to his feet.
— Neko! Wait!
But it was too late. A rumble came from the boy's right. The screech of skidding tires.
A van appeared and didn't have time to brake, crushing Neko in its path.
Silence followed. Neko lay still.
The boy collapsed to the ground, his hands trembling uncontrollably, paralyzed. His mouth hung open, unable to make a sound.
Shinji couldn't believe his eyes. Nothing had changed; he relived every detail—the glint of light on the windshield, every heartbeat that froze.
— Why… Why do I have to see this again?
The boy ran to the cat's lifeless body. He clutched it to his chest, unable to let go.
He finally accepted his fate: everyone he cared about ended up dead.
— Mom… Dad… Looks like Neko's going to join you.
Nothing held him anymore. That was the moment Shinji lost everything he had left.
He looked around and saw, lying there on the sidewalk… a shard of glass.
He approached the piece of glass slowly.
— No! No, you're not going to… You can't do this again! Shinji shouted.
The boy knelt and picked up the glass, raising his eyes to the sky.
— The sky's darkening now… I was destined to live this, wasn't I?
Rain began to fall over the park and its surroundings.
— Mom… Dad… Wait for me.
Shinji ran toward him. He stopped thinking, focused only on stopping him.
— You can't! You can't give up now! Not yet!
But his hands passed through him again.
And then, in the sky, a blinding light appeared.
Shinji felt that light deep within him, and when he looked up, he found himself floating in darkness once more.
But this time, he wasn't alone.
He sensed a presence; the blinding light was distant, visible far off.
For a reason he couldn't grasp, he felt a profound hatred toward it.
A gentle voice emanated from it.
— Argus… Why did you choose to forget… again?
— Who… who are you?
— I forced you to return to this world. You've ruined all my efforts, all my sacrifices.
Shinji didn't understand. But his heart trembled.
— I wanted to end it, to free myself once and for all.
A silence followed. Then, like a whisper in the shadows, the divine voice resonated within him again:
[ The host still envies the world ]
[ The host becomes: The Observer ]
[ The host gains: The Third Eye ]
At that moment, the light had already engulfed him.