Nietzsche in Evangelion and Berserk: Philosophy and the Death of God

If you have ever felt that the weight of the world was resting entirely on your shoulders—if you have ever looked at a sunset and felt not peace, but a crushing sense of isolation—then you have walked the same path as Shinji Ikari and Guts. You're here because you recognize that stories like Neon Genesis Evangelion and Berserk aren't just entertainment; they are visceral, bone-deep explorations of what it means to be human in a world that often feels indifferent or even hostile to our existence . We're going to talk about a specific kind of internal collapse today—the moment when the hero’s inner world shatters, not because of an external monster, but because the very foundations of their meaning have given way.

Friedrich Nietzsche once famously proclaimed that "God is dead," and while that phrase is often tossed around in academic circles, it takes on a terrifying, literal life in these series. In Evangelion, we see a world where the divine is replaced by biomechanical nightmares and silent, alien progenitors . In Berserk, the "Idea of Evil" is a god born of humanity’s yearning for a reason for their suffering and misfortune, a dark entity that orchestrates fate through a "God Hand" . These aren't just cool plot points; they are mirrors of a profound psychological reality. Nietzsche’s philosophy provides the "boss battle" mechanics for the soul in these narratives, teaching us that when the old gods fall, we are forced to become our own creators—or be crushed by the weight of the void .

Think about the "Hedgehog’s Dilemma" that haunts Shinji—the idea that the closer we get to others, the more we hurt each other . Or consider Guts, who is literally branded as a sacrifice, fighting a lonely war against a causality that says his life belongs to someone else's dream . You’ll see how these characters navigate the collapse of the "chest"—that middle ground between raw instinct and cold intellect—and why their struggle for a "Noble" existence is actually a blueprint for your own resilience . We are diving deep into the synthesis of existentialism, the nature of suffering, and the internal collapse that precedes a new beginning. So, let’s look at how these worlds were built on the ruins of the divine and what that means for the person you are becoming.

To understand the internal collapse of the hero, you first have to look at the sky they are standing under. In both Evangelion and Berserk, the sky is empty of a traditional, loving creator. Instead, it’s filled with "Angels" that are actually mysterious and impossibly powerful creatures or "Apostles" who have traded their humanity for power . This is the literalization of Nietzsche’s "Death of God." When Nietzsche spoke of this, he wasn't celebrating; he was warning us that the old map of the world—the one that gave us objective ethics and a sense of cosmic safety—had been burned . In Evangelion, this void is filled by the "First Ancestral Race," an alien civilization that seeded life on Earth, governed by cold, evolutionary laws rather than grace .

You see this play out in the way characters like Gendo Ikari or Griffith interact with the world. For Gendo, the world is just raw material—LCL, the "primordial soup"—waiting to be manipulated to satisfy his own desperate need for reunion . There is no "Tao" or objective moral law for him; there is only the conquest of nature and the reduction of humans to instruments . This is exactly what C.S. Lewis warned about in The Abolition of Man—when we reject objective ethics, we don't become free; we just become "raw material" to be shaped by those with the most power . Shinji is the victim of this, a "man without a chest" who has no inner virtue or resolve because he has been raised as an "artifact" by a father who sees him only as a tool for a machine .

In Berserk, the situation is even more dire. The "Idea of Evil" is an entity that resides in the "plane of ideas," born because humans needed a reason for their suffering . It is a god created by us, for us, to tell us that our pain has a purpose—even if that purpose is just to feed a vortex of souls . This is the ultimate Nietzschean irony: humanity, unable to bear the weight of a silent universe, creates a monster to rule over them so they don't have to face the void . You might recognize this in your own life—the way we sometimes cling to painful narratives or "fated" mistakes because the alternative—true, terrifying freedom—is too much to handle. Both series ask: if the gods are just reflections of our own trauma, how do we find a way to be "Noble" without them? We have to look at the "Master" and "Slave" moralities that emerge from this wreckage to find out .

Nietzsche famously divided the world into two types of morality: "Master morality" and "Slave morality." This isn't about literal slavery, but about where your values come from. Master morality is "noble"—it’s self-determined, powerful, and values-creating . Slave morality is "reactive"—it’s born from a place of weakness and defines "good" as the opposite of whatever the powerful person is doing . In Berserk, the rivalry between Guts and Griffith is a masterclass in this dichotomy. Griffith, at least initially, represents the "Noble" archetype. He is a "value creator" who doesn't need approval; he judges what is harmful to me as harmful in itself . He sees his comrades not as friends in the traditional sense, but as "tools" to build his kingdom—an aristocratic faith that the common man is there to be commanded .

But then you have Guts, who starts as the "doglike" person Nietzsche describes—someone who allows himself to be maltreated, sold into slavery by his guardian Gambino, and used as a "soldier to be commanded" . For a long time, Guts lives in a state of "Slave morality," reacting to the violence around him rather than choosing his own path. However, Guts’s journey is about the evolution of the slave into the aristocrat of the soul . He becomes "The Struggler," a man who eventually finds his own reason to fight—not for a king or a dream of conquest, but to protect those he loves, like Casca and his new recruits . This shift is crucial. Nietzsche argued that the noble human separates himself from the cowardly and the petty . When Guts decides to leave the Band of the Hawk to "lead his own path" and "not be defined by his master," he is claiming his own Nobility .

In Evangelion, this tension exists within Shinji, but it’s paralyzed. Shinji is the "man without a chest"—unheroic, cerebral, and dominated by the female characters . He is the "epitome of the slave," running away from the battle despite being the only one who can save the world . His father, Gendo, is the "inhuman conditioner," a man who has stepped outside humanity into a void where he treats his own son as "raw material" . Shinji’s internal collapse happens because he has no "Noble" foundation; he is an "artifact" shaped by his father’s will . You might feel this same paralysis when you feel you’re living for someone else’s "dream" or "standard." The "boss battle" here isn't defeating an Angel or an Apostle; it’s the internal struggle to move from being a reactive object to a value-creating subject. It’s about finding the "resolve" that Shinji lacks and the "self-determination" that Guts fights for every day .

When the hero’s inner world collapses, the external world often follows. In Evangelion, this collapse is literalized in the "Human Instrumentality Project"—a plan to dissolve all individual consciousnesses into a single, orange sea of LCL . This is the ultimate "escape from the Other." It’s a response to the pain of isolation and the "Hedgehog’s Dilemma" . If we all become one, if there are no boundaries between us, then we can never be hurt or rejected again . Gendo wants this because he cannot bear the "trauma of loss" and the fear of establishing relationships . He wants to return to the "maternal womb," the painless homogeneity of the One .

But from a Nietzschean or even a Christian perspective, this is "metaphysical euthanasia" . It is the "abolition of Man" . By removing the "Other," you also remove the possibility of love, because love requires two distinct people . Shinji’s internal collapse reaches its nadir in The End of Evangelion, where he is given the choice to either let the world remain dissolved or reconstitute himself as an individual . In that moment of psychic breakdown—depicted through flashes of raw animation and unsettling live-action footage—Shinji realizes that the "oneness" is a hollow victory . It is a "death instinct" masquerading as salvation . He chooses to return to the "Many," even though it means he will continue to suffer and be hurt by others . He chooses the "right to be an 'I'" in a world of others .

In Berserk, the "Eclipse" serves a similar function. It is the moment where Griffith, faced with his own physical and internal collapse, chooses to sacrifice everything—his friends, his humanity—to become "Femto" and achieve his dream . Griffith chooses the "One"—his own absolute dream—over the "Many" who supported him . This is a "sacrifice of love itself" . By cutting himself off from others to gain power, he becomes "less than human"—a demon who has traded the "tree of knowledge" for the "brute powers of the body" . While he thinks he is ascending, he is actually descending into "radical finitude"—a state where he is limited only to himself, with no community or legacy beyond his own body . You see the contrast here: Shinji’s "collapse" leads to a painful but real choice for humanity, while Griffith’s "ascent" leads to a hollow, demonic isolation. Both stories show that the "void" isn't something to be feared—it’s something you must choose to stand in, rather than trying to dissolve yourself into it.

If "God is dead" and the universe is just a cold machine, then suffering becomes the only thing that feels undeniably real. Nietzsche argued that we should not try to eliminate suffering, but rather find a way to use it as a tool for growth—the "Amor Fati" or love of fate . In Berserk, the "Idea of Evil" exists because humans wanted their suffering to have a reason . But Guts rejects this orchestrated suffering. He is "The Struggler," a man who jumps "above the river of causality" . He accepts his "finitude"—his mortality and his pain—but refuses to let it define his end . His suffering isn't a "sign of weakness"; it is the "crucible" in which his "Noble" soul is forged .

Think about Guts during his most violent moments—the "Black Swordsman" era. He is often seen as a monster, an "anti-christ" embodying free will against the "Christ-like" archetype of Griffith . But this violence is a response to the "nature of trauma" . Guts learned early on that "you can’t worry about stomping over every ant" because he was treated like an ant himself . However, as he matures, he shifts from this reactive violence to a more "gentle and kind" father role for the "moon child" . He finds a reason to fight that isn't just about revenge—it’s about protection . This is the Nietzschean "Overman" (Übermensch) in action: a person who creates their own values out of the wreckage of their past .

Shinji, too, eventually finds a version of this in the Rebuild movies. In the original series, he is stuck in a loop of "making the same mistakes over and over" . He is trapped in a "psychoanalytic anthropology" where his identity is just a fragile construct of trauma and projections . But in Evangelion: 3.0+1.0, he finally "takes responsibility" . He chooses to create a "world without Evas"—a "Neon Genesis" that is a reset of the world, but a "new beginning" where humans are free from the "gods" and "fate" . He accepts the "burden of separateness" and the "cross of selfhood" . He moves from the "Slave morality" of fear to a "Noble" state of existence where he can finally say "goodbye to all of Evangelion" . For you, this means recognizing that your trauma doesn't have to be a "script" you follow; it can be the "raw material" from which you carve out a self that is actually yours.

You cannot talk about the internal collapse of the hero without addressing the "wound of the feminine" that haunts both series. In Evangelion, the female characters—Rei, Asuka, and Misato—often function as "distorted projections" of Shinji’s own fractured psyche . There is a "near-total absence of wholeness" in the maternal or feminine form . Yui Ikari, Shinji’s mother, is "literally subsumed" into the machine he must pilot . Asuka’s mother is "dead, mad, and fused" with her daughter’s weapon . This creates a "Freudian nightmare of adolescence" where Shinji is unable to differentiate "maternal love from sexual desire," leading to a profound sense of "horror" and "disgust" .

This "disgust" is famously captured in the final line of The End of Evangelion: "Kimochi warui"—"How disgusting" . This is the reaction to a world where "intimacy is always dangerous" and "subjectivity has failed" . However, even in this "broken symbolic order," there is a search for meaning. Rei, who starts as a "passive, blank doll" created by Gendo, eventually "chooses to act on her own volition," rejecting her creator and initiating Instrumentality on her own terms . Asuka, even in her "rage and wounded pride," screams against "annihilation" . These characters aren't just "victims"; they are "ruptures" in the cycle of control .

In Berserk, the "wound" is just as visceral. The "Eclipse" is centered on the brutal violation of Casca—a moment that shatters both her and Guts . For a long time, Guts’s journey is fueled by a "violent lust for revenge" stemming from this trauma . But eventually, he atones for his own "violent shock" by "acting as a father role" and protecting the moon child and his new recruits . He moves from seeing her as a "reason for rage" to seeing her as a "reason for love" . This is the "Aristocrat role" Nietzsche spoke of—a "selfless" movement that "contrasts with the contemptible" . Both series show that "healing" isn't about erasing the trauma—it’s about finding a way to integrate the "wound" into a new, more complex "wholeness." It’s about moving from "objectification" to "communion," from "fear" to "Love that preserves distinction" .

So, what do you do when your own inner world feels like it's on the verge of collapse? How do you apply these "dark" philosophies to your real life? First, you have to acknowledge the "Hedgehog’s Dilemma" in your own relationships . You will be hurt, and you will hurt others—that is the "price of being an 'I'" . Instead of trying to "dissolve" into others or "retreat into paralysis" like Shinji, you must choose the "Many"—accept the pain as a "necessary side effect" of the possibility of love . This is your first "Noble" act: choosing connection over the "painless homogeneity" of isolation .

Second, look at your "Master" and "Slave" tendencies. Are you defining your values based on what you truly want, or are you just "reacting" to what society, your parents, or your "trauma" tells you to do ? Guts became "Noble" when he decided to "lead his own path" and "not be defined by his master" . You can do the same. Ask yourself: "What is harmful to me, and what is harmful to itself?" . Become your own "value creator" . Don't wait for "approval" from an empty sky or a "Gendo-like" figure in your life .

Third, practice "Amor Fati"—the love of your own fate. In Berserk, Guts doesn't just "endure" his suffering; he uses it to become "The Struggler" . In Evangelion, Shinji finally "takes responsibility" for the world he lives in . You can stop viewing yourself as a "victim of causality" or "fate" and start viewing yourself as a "fish jumping above the river" . The "collapse" isn't the end; it’s the "raw material" for your own "Neon Genesis"—your own new beginning . You have the power to "rewrite the laws that govern your reality" by integrating the "opposites" in your own psyche . Step out of the "loop" of your own making and into the "real world" .

We have traveled a long way together, from the "red seas" of a broken world to the "internal ruins" of the hero’s soul. You've seen how Friedrich Nietzsche’s ideas of "Master morality," the "Death of God," and the "Noble man" provide the "metaphysical scaffolding" for both Berserk and Evangelion . We've explored the "Internal Collapse"—that moment where the hero realizes that the gods are silent, the father is cold, and the self is a "shattered fragment" . But we've also seen the "Good News"—the Evangelion—of a "New Beginning" .

In the final moments of the Rebuild movies, Shinji "breaks the curse of the Eva" and emerges as an adult into a world "free from higher powers" . Gendo finally realizes that his wife Yui was "right in front of him this whole time" in the soul of his son, allowing him to "let her sleep" and "kill God" in the sense of ending his own obsession with the divine . This is the "satisfying conclusion"—not a return to a perfect past, but a "voluntary surrender" to a messy, pluralistic future . Guts, too, continues his "endless struggle," but he does so with a "new reason to fight"—the protection of those he loves .

Thank you for spending this time with me, reflecting on these difficult, dark, but ultimately hopeful stories. I hope you take one thing from this: that even when the "internal collapse" feels absolute, it is merely the clearing of the ground for a "New Genesis" . You are not "raw material" for someone else’s dream; you are the "struggler" who can jump above the river of your own fate . As you move through your day, I invite you to think about what "divine entities" or "traumas" you might need to say "goodbye" to so that you can finally start your own story. You have the "resolve" and the "resolve" to be "Noble" in your own unique way. May you find the strength to stand in your own "Many" and embrace the "disgusting," beautiful reality of being alive.