Attack on Titan: Wolfborn

[Fran Gark]

What if the future was not set in stone?

How can a single flutter of a wing send ripples across the world?

A retelling of Attack on Titan with new twists and mysteries tied to the long-lost Eldian Empire. Follow Anja Wolf, an original character whose life takes a drastic turn after the fall of Shiganshina. As Anja fights alongside familiar faces, her choices will reshape events as we know them, blurring the lines between hero and monster.

But there's more to Anja than meets the eye – an ancient darkness lurks within her, threatening to unravel the very fabric of their world and forcing her to grapple with her own morality.
​

Chapter I: Promise

---

Crimson. Fog.



Thick. Cloying. Reeking of copper and charred meat.



Limbs scattered. Viscera smeared across shattered blades and splintered bone. A graveyard carpeted in butchered flesh.



Hunger uncurled in my guts. Gnawing. Relentless. I scented the air - blood and offal heavy on my tongue.



Closer. Nearer.



Movement through the soupy murk. A twitching form, ravaged but not yet lifeless.



Prey.



I pounced, jaws unhinging to receive my bounty. Meat gave way between my teeth, tendons parting with muffled pops. Wet heat flooded my maw as I tore and rent, bone splintering under the savage grinding of my jaws.



Feast. Glut. Gorge.



The cravings roared through me, an inferno of mindless hunger that demanded fuel. More. Always more.



I wallowed in the kill, let the ichor soak into my matted fur as I gnashed and glutted and defiled. My prey's death agonies were mere white noise drowned beneath the thunder of my rapacious greed.



When the spasms at last subsided, I reared back - muzzle slick, belly swollen, eyes glassy with sanguine euphoria. Only then did I take true stock of my surroundings.



The fog hung thick, but I could make out the vague silhouettes of my rampage. Tattered remnants of uniforms and armor, the sad markers of the dead. A debased ossuary scattered across the killing ground.



I should have felt revulsion. Guilt. Shame at the ruination I had wrought, the gluttonous despoiling of friend and foe alike.



Instead, a feral sort of pride swelled in my breast. I had culled the weak, taken my fill of their yielded flesh as was my right. The victor's spoils.



My bulk shifted, rolls of densely-muscled haunches gathering beneath me as I prepared to move on. There would be other battlefields to reap, other carcasses ripe for harvesting.



That was when the movement caught my eye - a twitching shape struggling to rise through the carmine murk.



I froze, every sense suddenly hyper-alert as the hunger flared anew. My nostrils flared, drinking in the scent of its fear-sweat and the tang of fresh blood.



A low growl rumbled from my depths, equal parts challenge and anticipation. Whatever this new prey was, it would soon be just another offering laid at the altar of my gluttony.



The shape resolves itself - a small, battered figure clawing its way upright through the jumbled remains of the dead. No, not just any prey...this was the hunter that had felled so many of these pathetic weaklings in the first place.



And now it would become the hunted.



I tensed, coiling tight for the charge as a crimson haze of exhilaration clouded my vision. This was the prize I had been seeking, the ultimate quarry! To take this one, to reduce them to scraps and soil as I had the rest…



It sensed me then, twisting to face me with startling alacrity despite its mangled state. Those eyes - wide and wild and glittering with feral terror - bored into me from beneath the lank tangle of gore-slicked hair.



I drank in its fear, savored the pheromones of raw panic gusting off of it in waves. Oh, how its anguish would season the meat, how sweetly its desperate struggles would play across my palate before I-



"Anja! Anja, wake up!"



The words were strange, alien...but familiar enough to penetrate the fog of my bloodlust. To lodge themselves in the primitive core of my being like barbs.



Reality reasserted itself in a visceral rush, the tide of sanguine rapture receding to reveal a bone-chilling tableau.



There, mere feet away, lay...myself. Broken and defiled, body ravaged by brutal gouges and missing half a face. The shattered ruin of my features was frozen in a perpetual rictus of shock and agony, one eye and cheek torn away to expose the glistening ruin beneath.



Yet despite the pulped remains of my skull, that single remaining eye somehow found mine in the gloom - round and green and glistening with tears of mortal terror.



"Please...help me…"



The whispered plea roused something deeper than revulsion, something that reverberated in my very marrow like the knell of doom.



I was the one who had done this.



Savaged my own body, butchered my own flesh in a grotesque pantomime of my savage hungers. A vile, cannibalistic rite that mocked every notion of sanity or humanity.



A scream of pure, unvarnished anguish built in my throat, a howl of self-loathing so visceral it threatened to unmake me. To unmake everything I thought I knew about myself and the world around me.



But before that scream could claw its way free, ripping me asunder from the inside out…​

---

Anja's eyes snapped open, her body drenched in a cold sweat. Her heart thundered in her ears as images from the nightmare flashed through her mind - blood, viscera, the sickening crunch of bone giving way beneath her hands.

She sucked in a shuddering breath, frantically blinking away the remnants of the dream. Just a nightmare, she told herself firmly. Only a nightmare.

Anja shivered, pushing aside the sweat-soaked sheets and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She flexed her hands, studying the pale skin and unmarred knuckles as if expecting to see them coated in blood.

What was happening to her? These dreams, these nightmares of savagery and slaughter...they had been growing more frequent, more vivid with each passing night. Leaving her shaken and disoriented in a way she couldn't explain.

Perhaps it was just the stress of living in the ever-present shadow of the Titans...

She shook the thought, just another nightmare to add to the pile, better forgotten.

The 10-year-old girl yawned and stretched before leaping out of bed, her vibrant green eyes already sharpening with an unnatural intensity.

She quickly donned her favorite dress and began braiding her long auburn hair. Her gaze drifted to the childish drawings adorning her walls, depicting her and her brother, Heinrik, as stick figures holding hands and smiling. One sketch in the corner showed the two combatants brandishing crude, exaggerated swords, frozen in sword-locked battle stances.

"Anja! Sweetie, breakfast is ready!" her mother's voice rang out from the kitchen below, warm and inviting.

"Coming, Mom!" Anja called back, a grin spreading across her face. With a last glance at the drawing of Heinrik, she scampered downstairs.

Her mother, Emma, stood by the kitchen table, her short auburn hair framing her careworn but lovely face. She greeted Anja with a soft smile, though her blue eyes held a hint of worry as they flicked to the fresh nicks and gouges in the wooden doorframe - evidence of her daughter's "practice" sessions.

"Good morning, sleepyhead. Eat up before your food gets cold," Emma said, placing a gentle hand on Anja's shoulder as the girl slid into her seat.

Anja dug into her breakfast with gusto, her feet swinging beneath the table. Between bites, she chattered excitedly. "Heinrik's coming home today, right? I can't wait to show him how much I've improved with my swords!"

Her mother's smile turned a bit strained. "Anja, sweetie, we've talked about this. You need to be more careful when you're playing with those sticks."

"They're not sticks, Mom. They're swords," Anja corrected, a hint of exasperation in her voice.

Emma's gaze flicked to the doorframe, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "Ah, I see. And I suppose that poor door is meant to be a fearsome Titan, then?"

Anja grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah! I'm going to take it down, just like a real Scout!"

Emma chuckled, shaking her head. "Well, my little warrior, try not to slay the Titan too thoroughly, or it might stop opening for us." She reached out and tickled Anja's side, eliciting a giggle from the girl.

Anja squirmed away, laughing. "Mom, stop!"

She pulled Anja into a warm hug. "Just promise me you'll be gentler with the door from now on, okay? We don't want it to get any ideas about gobbling up little Scouts."

Anja nodded against her mother's shoulder, still giggling. "I promise."

Then she pulled back, brushing a hand over Anja's hair."Alright then, my brave girl. Finish your breakfast so you can go meet your brother."

Anja bobbed her head and dug into her food, her feet swinging beneath the table. She swallowed and asked, "You're coming with me, right?"

A shadow passed over Emma's face, her smile faltering. "Why don't you go on ahead, Anja? I need to stay here and mind the shop."

Anja's brow furrowed. "Are you sure? I thought you'd want to see Heinrik as soon as possible."

Emma busied herself at the counter, avoiding her daughter's questioning gaze. "I'm sure, honey. Don't worry about me. You go and give your brother a big hug from me, okay?"

Though somewhat deflated, Anja gulped down the rest of her food, gave her mother a quick peck on the cheek, and hurried out into the bustling streets of Shiganshina. She wove through the crowds with practiced ease, her small form darting ever closer to the towering outer gate of Wall Maria.

"Hey Armin!" Anja called out, spotting a familiar blond boy sitting on a crate, his nose buried in a worn book.

Armin looked up, startled. "Oh hi Anja. What's got you in such a rush?"

"My brother's back from his expedition today! I'm heading to the gate. Wanna come?" she asked breathlessly.

"Thanks for the invite, but I'm really busy with this book at the moment," Armin replied with an apologetic smile. "But hey, remember the book that talks about the outside world? Maybe you could ask Heinrik if he saw anything like that on his expedition. Maybe this time they reached further."

Anja nodded excitedly. "Yeah, I remember! You're always talking about it. Sure, I'll ask him. See you later, Armin!"

Waving goodbye, she took off running again. And just like clockwork the bell tower rung, signaling their arrival. By the time she reached the crowd gathered at the foot of Wall Maria, the Survey Corps were already passing through the gate. Her eager smile faded as she took in the soldiers' slumped shoulders, downcast eyes, and tattered green cloaks spattered with blood.

Several rode with heavy bandaging, while others led a covered cart that undoubtedly carried the bodies of the fallen. The metallic scent of blood and sweat hung heavy in the air, mingling with the murmur of the crowd. For a moment, the nightmare flashed before Anja's eyes again - mangled bodies, glassy eyes, glistening viscera. She shook her head violently, banishing the gruesome image.

The crowd muttered and sneered as the disheartened soldiers passed.

"What a waste of lives and taxes."

"It's hopeless going out there."

"Serves 'em right for having a death wish."
​

Anja bit her lip hard as she sought Heinrik's face among the procession.

Then she spotted him, looking weary but whole. "Heinrik! Over here!" she cried, waving frantically.

Her brother glanced over, and his somber face broke into a wan but genuine smile. He guided his horse to the edge of the crowd. "Anja, I missed you, imp! Hope you haven't been giving Mom too much trouble in my absence," he teased gently, ruffling her hair.

As he spoke, Heinrik gently steered Anja away from the procession, his body blocking her view of the wounded soldiers and bloodied bandages. She tried to peek around him, curious about the commotion, but he kept a firm hand on her shoulder, guiding her towards the outskirts of the crowd.

As Heinrik spoke to his sister, a man with undercut black hair and a gelid gaze drifted over the crowd, his expression unreadable. For the briefest of moments, his eyes seemed to linger on Anja, a flicker of something like recognition passing over his features. But then it was gone, his face settling back into a stoic mask. She focused back on her brother.

"...I've been good, promise! But never mind that - what happened out there? You all look so sad and hurt," Anja asked, worry creasing her brow.

Heinrik's smile faltered. "Ah well, you know... It's just hard having to turn back is all. Those Titans sure made us work for it this time. But don't you fret, we gave as good as we got!" He puffed his chest out with exaggerated bravado, eliciting a giggle from Anja.

Then his expression softened and he dismounted his horse, kneeling before his sister. "Listen, how about I stick around for a few days, spend some time with you and Mom? Dunno how long it'll be before I'm back in town again."

Anja beamed and hugged him tight. "Yes please!"

As Anja embraced her brother, she felt the familiar press of the pendant he always wore around his neck. It was a simple metal disk, weathered and scratched. For as long as she could remember, Heinrik had never been without it.

She stood rooted to the spot, her mind drifting to the last time her brother had been home, when he'd surprised her with a beautifully carved wooden sword. 'For my little warrior,' he'd said with a grin, ruffling her hair. 'Keep training hard, and one day you'll be even better than me.'

Anja had treasured that sword above all the others in her collection, practicing with it every day and dreaming of the moment she could stand beside her brother as a fellow Scout.

Just then, the dark-haired soldier approached, his posture ramrod straight despite his short stature. Her brother gestured at him. "Lieutenant, a word?"

The man nodded, and Heinrik turned back to Anja. "Gimme a sec, then we'll head home together." He stepped a few paces away to confer with his comrade.

Anja peered at the stern-faced man curiously. "Who's that?" she whispered when Heinrik returned.

"Oh, I think I told you about him before. That's Lieutenant Levi. He's saved my life more times than I can count. He's the strongest soldier in the whole Survey Corps," he told her, his eyes shining with respect.

She wrinkled her nose. "So that's Levi... I thought he'd be taller."

Heinrik laughed and tweaked her nose. "Don't let his size fool you. In the Survey Corps, it's not about your height, but your determination and skill. Lieutenant Levi has those in spades."

The siblings walked home arm-in-arm, Anja practically skipping in her excitement to have her brother back while Heinrik savored the sights and sounds of Shiganshina's peaceful streets. But as they neared their house, the lighthearted mood evaporated.

Their mother stood frozen in the doorway, one trembling hand pressed to her mouth. "Heinrik? Is it really you?"

He stepped forward, arms open in concern. "It's me, Mom. I'm alright, really-"
The rest of his assurance was cut off as Emma flew down the steps and threw her arms around him, openly weeping. "Oh, Heinrik! Thank the Walls you're safe! I've been worried sick. Is that a new scar? Oh why do you do this to me Heinrik..." she sobbed, clutching him like he might disappear if she let go.

Heinrik held her close, murmuring soothing words as he stroked her hair, while Anja shifted from foot to foot, both moved and discomfited by the raw display of emotion. After several long moments, Emma collected herself enough to shepherd them all inside, fussing over Heinrik's rumpled uniform and tired face.
The joyful reunion continued over dinner, though a palpable tension undercut the smiles and laughter. It finally came to a head when their mother asked in a falsely casual tone, "So, how long will you be home for this time?"


Heinrik winced and rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, about that... I have to head back out tomorrow to rejoin my squad."

Emma's face drained of color. "What? But you just got here! Surely they can spare you for a few more days," she cried.

"Mom, you know this is what I signed up for," he replied heavily, bracing for the coming storm. Anja's eyes darted anxiously between them.
Emma's voice rose, tears welling up. "Signed up to throw your life away, you mean! Why are you so determined to end up dead or disappear, just like-" She cut herself off, pressing a hand to her mouth.

An uncomfortable silence fell.
Heinrik sighed, keeping his voice level. "That's not fair, Mom. I'm doing this to keep you safe, to keep everyone safe. My comrades are counting on me. I won't turn my back on them."

"And what about your family? Or do we not matter anymore?" Their mother asked, her voice trembling.

Anja couldn't bear it. She shoved her chair back with a clatter and fled to her room, their voices chasing her up the stairs. Flinging herself on her bed, she pulled her pillow over her head, trying in vain to block it all out. Hot tears leaked into the fabric. Why did they always have to fight?

Some time later, there was a soft knock at her door. She hastily dried her face on her sleeve and slipped beneath the covers, feigning sleep. The door creaked open and she heard Heinrik's footsteps approach. The mattress dipped as he perched on the edge of her bed.

He poked her side, chuckling when she squirmed. "C'mon imp, I know you're awake under there."

Anja poked her head out, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the lingering tension. She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. "Heinrik? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Anja. Anything."

She hesitated, chewing her lip. "My friend Armin, he's always talking about the outside world. About fiery water, lands of ice, and fields of sand. Is that... is that why you go out there? To see those things?"

Heinrik was quiet for a moment, considering his words. A shadow passed over his face, his eyes haunted. "That's part of it," he said at last, his voice strained. "But it's more than that. We go out there to learn, to understand, to get answers…" He trailed off, his gaze distant. "For all those who are no longer with us…"

"Do you think Dad might still be out there somewhere?" Anja asked, her voice small and hopeful.

Heinrik's jaw clenched, pain flickering in his eyes. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I have to try to find out. I need to know…"

Anja was silent, letting his words sink in. Then, in a trembling whisper, she asked, "But what if... what if the same thing happens to you? What if you disappear too? Or…"

Heinrik pulled her into a fierce hug, cutting off her words. "That will never happen," he said fiercely, his voice rough with emotion. "I will always come back to you and Mom, I promise."

Anja clung to him, relief and fear warring in her chest. She wanted to believe him, needed to believe him. But a small, insidious doubt had taken root, fed by her mother's tears and the haunted look in her brother's eyes.

Heinrik ruffled her hair, offering a strained smile. "Don't worry, imp." Gently, he tucked her back into bed and smoothed the covers. As he made to leave, Anja's hand shot out, grasping his sleeve.

"Heinrik… Would you stay a little longer?" Her eyes were wide and pleading, a glimmer of fear in their green depths.

Heinrik's brow furrowed. He sat back down on the edge of the bed. "Everything alright?"

Anja hesitated, then whispered, "I'm scared. Of the nightmares. They're getting worse…"

Understanding dawned on Heinrik's face, mingled with a flicker of unease. Forcing a reassuring smile, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind Anja's ear.

"I see. How about a story then? Dad used to tell me this one. Might help keep your mind off of it."

Anja nodded, snuggling deeper into her blankets. Heinrik's voice washed over her, low and soothing.

"There was once a wolf pup, who was very lonely. While his brothers and sisters found homes and joined great packs, the pup was shunned.

No matter where he went, he drove others away. The little wolf's heart ached as seasons passed by and the loneliness remained. For many turns of the moon, he journeyed far and wide, desperately hoping to find a kindly soul to walk by his side.

He happened upon birds, bears, even the peaceful herds of deer - but as soon as they sensed the pup's approach, they fled in mindless fear. With each stinging rejection, his despair deepened.

'Am I fated to be alone?' he howled. 'What evil did I do to deserve such a burden?'"

Heinrik's voice began to fade as Anja drifted off, her eyelids growing heavy. The last thing she felt was the gentle press of his lips against her forehead and his whispered words, "Sweet dreams, little sister. I love you."

Anja slipped into slumber, the tale echoing in her mind.


/

/

/

Note: Thank you for reading. I would like to offer you a behind-the-scenes look at the inspiration for this story, so that you may have a better understanding moving forward.

It all started a months ago when I couldn't stop thinking about the inevitable end of the series and how predetermined it all seemed.

So, I decided to take a new approach and introduce the concept of chaos theory. By adding new variables to the equation, I aim to show how even the smallest choices can have cascading consequences that could alter everything. Take it as an experiment of sorts.

My goal is to stay true to the essence and lore of the preestablished characters while guiding them through the chaos that will form, all from a new point of view.

Take in the little details as the story, slowly but surely, starts heading in a completely new direction.

If you have any theories, questions, or suggestions, please feel free to share them. I will always welcome them.

I hope you enjoy this journey!

​

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter II: The Day the World Ended

---

The early morning sun cast long shadows as Heinrik and Anja strolled hand-in-hand through the quiet streets of Shiganshina. Heinrik guided them to a peaceful little clearing, one of their favorite spots to spend time together before he had to return to his duties.

"Hey, Anja," Heinrik said with a grin, "how about a quick sparring session? Mom told me you have been practicing."

Anja's eyes lit up. "You're on!" she exclaimed, already reaching for the wooden swords they kept stashed nearby.

Heinrik chuckled as he caught the sword Anja tossed him. "Alright, imp, show me what you've got!"

They faced off, Anja's face set in concentration as she assumed her stance. With a fierce cry, she launched herself at Heinrik, their swords clashing in a flurry of strikes and parries. Heinrik raised his eyebrows seemingly impressed, she had been working hard growing her skill and strength, but he noticed something else, was she doing something wrong?

As the sparring intensified, Anja's strikes became more forceful, her eyes blazing with an intensity that was both exhilarating and unnerving. Heinrik found himself having to work harder to keep up, his own heartbeat quickening.

After a particularly fierce exchange, Heinrik called for a break. "Whoa there, Anja!" he laughed, lowering his sword. "You're getting too good at this. I'm going to have to start watching my back."

Anja beamed at the praise, her chest heaving from the exertion. "Just you wait," she declared, "I'll be even better than you someday!"

As they caught their breath, Heinrik studied his sister thoughtfully, before smiling softly. Then he settled for a friendly arm around her shoulders as they plopped down in the soft grass.

"So," Heinrik began, a playful glint in his eye, "you still hanging around with that Armin kid? Seems like he's sweet on you."

Anja felt her cheeks grow warm. "He's just my friend," she mumbled, scuffing the toe of her shoe in the dirt.

Heinrik laughed and ruffled her hair. "I'm just teasing, imp. I'm glad you're making friends. Good to know you've got people looking out for you besides me and Mom."

Anja huffed and swatted his hand away. "I've got plenty of friends, I'll have you know. There's you, Mom, Armin...Uh…And..."

"My apologies, I stand corrected," Heinrik said with mock solemnity. Then his expression turned more serious. "I see mom was serious when she mentioned your practice, glad you enjoyed my present. You're really set on becoming a soldier, huh?"

Anja lifted her chin. "Yes. I want to be like you, to protect people and have your back out there."

Heinrik sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know Mom will have my head if you end up enlisting. There's lots of other ways you can help people, Anja. Like farming! Keeping the people fed is important work."

"Oh stop it, Heinrik! I'm not a little girl anymore," Anja cried. "I want to be out there with you, fighting Titans and seeing the world beyond these stupid walls."

"Alright, alright, simmer down," Heinrik said, holding his hands up in surrender. "If the military is really what you want, you should know there's more branches than just the Survey Corps..."

Anja rolled her eyes. "Oh, I know. The Garrison are a bunch of layabouts who wouldn't know a Titan if it bit them on the butt. And the Military Police only show their faces out here to drag people off to the Interior. Trust me, I've thought this through."

Heinrik threw up his hands in defeat. "I can see you're not budging on this. What do you say we call a truce over some sweets? My treat before I have to head out."

"Deal! But I want two," Anja said with a grin, latching onto his arm as they ambled back towards the market square.



As they walked, Anja gazed up at Heinrik adoringly, committing every detail of his smiling face to memory. But suddenly, his expression morphed into one of pure horror. A shadow fell over them, as if a massive cloud had blotted out the sun. Anja followed his stare upward and felt her blood turn to ice.



A colossal, skinless face loomed over the top of Wall Maria, peering down at the district like a cruel god. Its eyes were lifeless, yet full of cold judgement. Anja dimly registered the screams of terror erupting around her as people pointed at the monster in shock and disbelief. Some were frozen in place, while others began to flee in panic.



Anja stood rooted to the spot, her mind refusing to comprehend the impossible sight before her. Then she felt Heinrik's arms wrap around her like a vine as he scooped her up and began to run. His grip was almost painfully tight, but she barely noticed, still transfixed by the Titan's grotesque visage.



In a move almost too fast to process, the behemoth raised one massive, skinless arm clutching the wall then it seemed to pull back, its massive foot came crashing down on the outer gate with a thundering crush. The very ground seemed to convulse from the impact. Huge chunks of stone sprayed over the buildings nearest the wall, flattening everything in their path. Anja watched in numb horror as a young couple, who had been fleeing hand-in-hand, disappeared beneath a cascade of merciless debris.

The world seemed to tilt and warp around her, screams and the crashing of debris filling her ears. She watched in mute horror as a Titan's massive hand swiped a man off the street, lifting him kicking and screaming towards its gaping maw. The sickening crunch of bones and the spray of blood that followed would be forever seared into Anja's memory. Everywhere she looked, there was destruction and death, the once-familiar streets of her hometown transformed into a nightmarish hellscape.



"Don't look, Anja! We need to get to Mom, now," Heinrik commanded, his voice strained but authoritative. He charged recklessly through the stampeding crowds, shoving aside those who blindly grabbled at him for aid in their terror.

"You're a soldier, please help us!" one woman cried desperately, but Heinrik ignored her pleas, his sole focus on getting Anja to safety.

After an interminable minute that felt like an eternity, they reached their home. By some miracle, it still stood intact amidst the crumbling ruins of neighboring buildings. Heinrik shouldered the door open with a splintering crash, startling their mother who was frantically throwing supplies into a sack.

"Heinrik, what in the Walls is going on out there?" Emma demanded breathlessly as he set Anja down.

"The Titans... they've broken through the outer gate! We need to get to the ferry docks immediately, there's no time to waste," Heinrik said tersely, already snatching up his ODM gear with shaking hands.

Emma paled, her eyes darting between her children as if trying to wake up from a nightmare. "How is that possible?! What do we do?"

"You take Anja and run for the boats. Don't look back no matter what, you hear me?" Heinrik ordered as he fumbled to secure the last of his gear straps, his normal dexterity lost to mounting dread.

He gripped his mother's shoulders and forced her to meet his desperate gaze. "Mom, focus. Get Anja out. I'll buy you as much time as I can."

Heinrik crouched down to look Anja in the eye, his hands firm and warm on her shoulders. "Anja, listen to me. You do exactly as I say and go with Mom, ok? Get to the boats. Don't be afraid, I'll be protecting you."

Anja could only nod mutely, not trusting herself to speak past the lump of fear lodged in her throat. Heinrik pulled her into a fierce hug.

The moment was shattered by an ungodly crash as a massive hand punched through the side of their house, sending chunks of wood and plaster flying. Anja felt herself being flung through the air as Heinrik shoved her clear of the falling debris. She hit the ground hard, rolling to a dazed stop in the street.

Blinking dust from her eyes, Anja looked back at the ruins of her home in shocked incomprehension. A 10-meter Titan with beady, soulless eyes rummaged through the wreckage, heedless of the destruction. Anja spotted her mother, pinned from the waist down by a heavy roof beam, her face twisted in agony.

"Heinrik!" Emma screamed. "Take Anja and go!"

"My blades," Heinrik cried, casting about wildly. "Just hold on Mom!"

Anja stumbled to her feet, head ringing. Acting on blind instinct, she snatched up a chunk of rubble and hurled it at the Titan with all her strength, letting out a fierce growl. "Get away from her!" she shrieked, before her legs gave out and she crumpled back to the ground.

Heinrik seemed frozen in the moment, inside he felt a storm of rage and grief threatening to consume him. The blood in his veins burned, urging him to let loose, to tear the Titan apart with his bare hands.

A red haze descending over his vision, as his muscles tensed. An urge he was fighting hard to resist. With a roar of pain and fury, equal parts human and beast, he forced his rage back, channeling it into the singular goal of protecting his sister. He sprinted to Anja's side, the last vestiges of his self-control straining as he gathered her into his arms and ran, his mother's final screams echoing in his ears

"I'm sorry Mom. I love you," he choked out. Then he was running, Anja bouncing limply against his chest.

"I love you both! Now go, save yourselves!" Emma called after them, her voice breaking on a sob.
Anja forced her eyes open, reaching one small hand back towards the shrinking figure of her mother even as the distance between them grew. She watched in helpless horror as the Titan lifted Emma's struggling form to its yawning mouth.

"Heinrik, why?" Anja whimpered, hot tears blurring her vision.

But Heinrik didn't answer, just tucked her face into his neck and ran harder, his breath coming in harsh pants. After a small eternity, the dull roar of a gathered crowd reached Anja's ringing ears. Heinrik slowed to a stop, chest heaving as he gently set her on her feet near the seething mass of frightened humanity massed at the docks.

He dropped to a crouch, gripping Anja's shoulders almost hard enough to bruise as he forced her to meet his wild eyes. "You have to be brave now, Anja. Brave for both of us. I'm going to find the bastard that ate Mom. I'll make them pay, every last stinking Titan in this forsaken city. I promise you that."

Anja shook her head frantically, clinging to his sleeves. "Let me come with you! I can fight!" she begged.

"No!" Heinrik snapped, giving her a small shake. "I promised I'll protect you, remember? Now promise me you'll survive this!"

Anja bit her lip until she tasted blood, but finally gave a jerky nod. "I promise," she whispered.
Heinrik crushed her to his chest in one last desperate embrace. "Get to the boats and don't look back. I'll find you again."

Then he was pulling away, turning to a nearby Garrison soldier and demanding a set of blades. The man took one look at Heinrik's emblazoned wings of freedom and handed over his own without question. Heinrik saluted grimly, then glanced back at Anja. He managed a small smile and a wink, then launched himself into the air, vanishing over the rooftops with a hiss of wires and gas.

Anja stared after him, feeling numb and hollow. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion as soldiers herded shell-shocked civilians onto the waiting boats. She shuffled forward on autopilot as the crowd pressed in around her.

"Hurry lass, into the boat now," urged a grizzled soldier, practically lifting Anja off her feet and depositing her in the bow.

She barely noticed her dress was torn and dirty, the other weeping, stern-faced refugees filing in around her, some still craning their necks back for one final glimpse of their crumbling home. Anja drifted to the rear of the boat, finding an isolated corner to collapse into. She stared back at Shiganshina with burning intensity, committing every detail to memory.

She heard the rumbling screams of canons that snapped everyone to attention, they felt like they sent shockwaves through the air, then silence and a loud crash.

"The inner gate! They've breached Wall Maria!" someone cried in horror, pointing a shaking finger.

"We're all doomed!"

But Anja barely heard the exclamations of hopeless terror rippling through the boat. She just glared at the towering forms of the Titans rampaging through her home, her small hands balled into white-knuckled fists at her sides.

"I'll kill you! Do you hear me, you monsters?" she screamed, her young voice cracking with raw grief and rage. "I'll kill you! I'll kill every last one of you! This isn't over!"

Spent, Anja crumpled to her knees, angry sobs ripping from her throat. She startled at a light touch on her shoulder, head whipping around to see a familiar concerned face.

"A-Armin?" she hiccuped. Her friend said nothing, just enveloped her in a tight hug as she broke down in earnest, clinging to him like a lifeline.

"Shh, it's ok Anja. We're safe for now," he soothed, awkwardly petting her hair. "You sounded just like Eren for a minute there... Why don't you come sit with us?"

Anja allowed him to guide her, unresisting, to where two other shell-shocked children huddled together. Armin smiled wanly and gestured to each in turn.

"Anja, this is Mikasa and Eren. Guys, meet Anja."

"Hey," Eren mumbled, shooting her a commiserating glance. Mikasa just dipped her head in solemn greeting, dark eyes full of empathy.

The four sat in heavy silence for hours, lost in their own swirling storms of grief and trauma, before they began speaking again, Anja told them about her brother, then Eren smacked his fist into his palm. "If your brother is Scout, he's sure to make it out," he said bracingly. "They're humanity's finest, not a cowardly bunch of freeloaders like those useless wall-jockeys."

"Eren, enough," Mikasa chided quietly, laying a calming hand on his knee. "No one could have predicted this."

Eren just crossed his arms with a scowl. "Maybe not, but if those lazy bastards did their jobs instead of getting fat and drunk in the Interior, we'd be taking back our home turf already. But I'll show 'em. They'll see."

Anja listened wordlessly, fixing her red-rimmed gaze on the horizon, where the top of Wall Rose was just becoming visible in the distance. The seed of rage and vengeance, planted by Heinrik's parting words, unfurled in her chest with a newfound resolve. One way or another, the Titans would pay for what they had stolen from her today. She would become a soldier, the best of the best, and she would not rest until every last one of those mindless man-eating monsters was wiped from the earth.

As the ferry carried them further from the only home she'd ever known, Anja swore a silent oath to the lost. For Heinrik. For their mother. For Shiganshina. She would fight to avenge them. No matter what it took.

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter III: Through the Valley

---

The chaos at the refugee camp was barely controlled as soldiers barked orders, their voices hoarse from shouting over the clamor of countless traumatized survivors. The once orderly streets of Trost were now a sea of desperate humanity, a teeming mass of fear and grief and barely leashed panic.

Anja shuffled forward in a daze, her mind still reeling with the horrific images of her mother's final moments and the desperate hope that Heinrik had somehow made it out alive. Around her, shell-shocked survivors of the Shiganshina attack and countless others lucky enough to have escaped the Titans' ravenous maws huddled together, their faces drawn and haunted.

The massive walls that sheltered them, once a source of comfort and security, now seemed flimsy and insubstantial in the wake of the impossible. A hundred years of peace, shattered in an instant by the appearance of that Colossal Titan. The very bedrock of their world thrown upside down.

Everywhere Anja looked, she saw signs of desperation and chaos. Soldiers with twitchy trigger fingers and wild, frightened eyes manned the gates and watchtowers, their gazes constantly flicking to the horizon as if expecting a horde of Titans to appear at any moment. Civilians milled about in various states of shock and disbelief, some weeping openly while others simply stared into space, their expressions slack and empty.

A ragged cheer went up from somewhere near the wall, and Anja craned her neck to see a cluster of people gathering around a wild-eyed preacher of the walls perched atop an overturned crate. The man was gesticulating wildly, his voice rising and falling in a fevered cadence as he spouted dire predictions of the end times.

"The divine Walls have spoken!" he cried, spittle flying from his lips. "The Titans are the judgment of the Walls upon us, a heavenly punishment sent for their defilement, their wrath for our blasphemous sins and pride! Repent, repent and beg for their mercy, for the end is nigh!"

Some in the crowd muttered fearful agreement, sinking to their knees in prayer or tearing at their hair in despair. Others simply pushed past, too numb or lost in their own grief to pay the raving zealot any mind. Anja shuddered and averted her gaze, a chill running down her spine at the naked fear and anguish in the preacher's words.

Ahead of her, the line of refugees shuffled slowly forward, winding its way towards a makeshift processing station manned by grim-faced soldiers. Anja let her gaze wander as she waited, scanning the sea of unfamiliar faces for any sign of her friends or her brother.

For a moment, she thought she caught a glimpse of Armin's telltale blond hair a few lines over, but it was gone before she could be sure-

"Name?" the harried-looking soldier barked, his voice jolted Anja out of her spiraling thoughts.

She blinked, realizing she had reached the front of the line without even noticing. "Anja... Anja Wolf," she managed.

The man made a curt notation on his clipboard.

"Right, head on in. Next!"

Anja hesitated, craning her neck to scan the milling crowd. "Please sir, I'm looking for my brother. His name is Heinrik, he's in the Survey Corps. Has he come through yet?"

The soldier huffed impatiently. "Look kid, I'm just here to take names. If your brother made it, he'll be inside with the rest. Now move along, you're holding up the line." He made a shooing motion, already turning to the next bedraggled refugee.

Stomach twisting with mingled anxiety and anticipation, Anja allowed herself to be ushered through the gates into the vast courtyard beyond. The space was packed with a sea of haunted faces and huddled forms, the air rent with the occasional cry of grief or shout of anger. She stood on tiptoes, trying in vain to catch a glimpse of Heinrik's familiar blond head amidst the throng.

A light touch on her arm made her flinch and whirl defensively, only to find Eren regarding her with concern. "Hey, you alright?" he asked gruffly.

Anja managed a jerky nod. "Yeah. I just... I need to find my brother. That soldier said he might be in here somewhere..."

Eren's intense green eyes softened a fraction and he gave her shoulder a brief, awkward pat. "We'll help you look," he promised.

"Thank you," Anja whispered, blinking back the sudden sting of tears.

Just then, a commotion near the supply depot drew their attention. Raised voices cut through the restless din of the crowd as people began to surge forward, desperation etched on every face.

"I've got a family to feed, you can't cut us off!"

"I was here first, get back!"

"My children are starving, have mercy!"

The soldiers manning the depot looked increasingly harried as they tried to maintain order. "Settle down, the lot of you!" one of them bellowed.

"There's only so much to go around. Push again and nobody gets anything!" Anja and Eren watched grimly from the sidelines as the man next to them, his face gaunt and clothing ragged, balled his fists and stepped forward with a snarl.

"Damn freeloaders, coming here to steal food out of decent folks' mouths," muttered one of the soldiers to his comrade, not quite quietly enough.

The words ignited something in Eren. He lunged at the soldier with a cry of rage, his young face twisted with righteous fury. "Shut your mouth! You don't know what we've been through! Where were you when the Titans came, huh? Cowering behind Wall Rose while we watched our families get eaten?"

The soldier lashed out, catching Eren across the face with a vicious backhand. The boy staggered but caught himself, raising his head to glare pure defiance. "You little shit, I'll teach you some resp-"

"Stop, please! He's sorry!" Mikasa interjected, physically placing herself between Eren and the enraged soldier. She turned beseeching eyes on the man. "Please forgive him, sir. He's not in his right mind, none of us are."

Armin stepped forward as well, hands raised placatingly. "We've all suffered a great shock. He meant no disrespect. It won't happen again, you have our word."

The soldier glowered, clearly torn between making an example of Eren and avoiding a scene. "Get that brat out of my sight," he spat at last. "One more outburst and there'll be consequences, refugees or not."

Mikasa grabbed Eren's arm in an unbreakable grip and marched him away, Armin and Anja falling into step on either side like an honor guard.

Armin offered Anja a strained smile as he lengthened his stride to keep pace with Mikasa's determined steps.

"That's Eren for you, heart's in the right place but he'll get himself killed mouthing off one day," the blond boy said with a sigh.

"He wasn't wrong though," Anja muttered darkly.

Armin just shook his head. "Doesn't matter if he was. We're at their mercy now." His expression turned sympathetic as he reached out to touch Anja's wrist. "Hey, any sign of your brother?"

Anja swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat and shook her head. "Not yet. But... he'll be here. He has to be."

Armin nodded and gave her arm a comforting squeeze. "Of course he will. Don't give up hope. Oh, I almost forgot..."

He reached into his pocket and carefully extracted a slightly battered hunk of bread, breaking it precisely in half. Anja's eyes widened as he pressed one of the pieces into her hand. "Here, I want you to have this. I know it's not much, but Mikasa managed to grab extra when the soldiers weren't looking," Armin explained with a conspiratorial wink.

Anja gaped at the precious offering, stomach betraying her with an audible gurgle. "Armin, I can't... are you sure?" she asked uncertainly.

The boy just closed her fingers firmly over the bread and smiled. "Absolutely. We have to look out for each other, yeah? Now come on, we better catch up to Eren and Mikasa before they get too far ahead."

Clutching the bread to her chest like a talisman, Anja fell into step beside Armin, a tiny spark of warmth kindling in her numb heart at the simple gesture of kindness.

The days bled together in a monotonous haze of gnawing hunger, bone-deep exhaustion, and endless waiting.

The refugees were packed into drafty warehouses and rickety barns like cattle, huddling together for warmth and what meager comfort could be found in shared trauma.

Anja spent every waking moment haunting the edges of the camp, eyes endlessly searching for some sign of Heinrik. But as the hours stretched into days with no word, the tiny ember of hope in her heart began to gutter and fade.

Eren, by contrast, seemed to burn brighter with each passing day, his green eyes fevered with barely leashed fury. He paced their small circle of ratty blankets like a caged animal, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"I can't stand this waiting," he snarled on the fourth evening, glaring out at the darkening sky as if he could set the walls themselves ablaze with the force of his anger.

"We're useless like this. We should be out there learning to fight, making those Titan bastards pay for what they did to us."

"And what exactly do you think we can do, Eren? We're kids," Armin said wearily, setting aside the book he'd been trying and failing to lose himself in.

"A single day of training isn't going to make us a match for Titans."

Eren rounded on Anja, eyes burning. "You get it, don't you Anja? You want to take the fight to them as badly as I do, I know it!"

Anja looked away. "You're right. I want to make them pay more than I've ever wanted anything. I want to join the Scouts and put my blade through the neck of every Titan I can find. But..." She took a shuddering breath. "Armin's right. We'd only be throwing our lives away as we are now. We're not ready."

"So you're giving up, just like that? I thought you wanted to be a soldier! What would your brother think of you now, hiding like a coward? Have you already forgotten what those monsters did to your mother?" Eren shouted, stepping forward aggressively.

Something in Anja snapped. With an inarticulate cry of rage, she launched herself at Eren, swinging wildly. But before she could connect, a blur of dark hair and pale skin interposed itself between them. Mikasa's fist sank into Anja's gut with clinical precision, doubling the smaller girl over as the air whooshed from her lungs.

Mikasa blinked, looking almost surprised at her own actions. "I... I'm sorry, I only meant to stop you, not..."

"Stay out of this, Mikasa!" Eren snarled, trying to push past her, but the dark-haired girl stood firm, planting herself protectively in front of Anja's gasping form.

"Enough, all of you!" Armin cried, actually raising his voice for once. He looked between his three friends with equal parts anger and distress.

"We can't afford to fight amongst ourselves, not now."

But Anja was already stumbling backwards, one arm clutched around her throbbing middle. Tears of pain and humiliation streaked down her face as she turned and fled, Armin's pleas for her to wait echoing uselessly behind her.

She ran until her lungs burned and her legs wobbled, finally ducking into a narrow alley between two of the towering refugee warehouses. The overhanging eaves provided some meager shelter from the persistent drizzle as Anja sank to the ground and curled into a tight ball, surrendering to the racking sobs that had been building in her chest for days.

"Heinrik where are you?" she choked out between hitching breaths. "You p-promised..."

Spent at last, Anja slipped into an uneasy doze, still huddled against the rough wood of the warehouse wall. The chill slowly seeped into her bones, but she lacked the energy to care. At least here, no one could see her break.

A sudden sharp pain in her side jolted Anja rudely back to wakefulness some interminable time later. She sprang upright with a gasp, one hand clutching her ribs, only to find herself being dispassionately regarded by a pair of ice-blue eyes beneath a fall of wheat-blonde hair.

"Oh. You're alive." the strange girl said flatly. She looked perhaps a year or two older than Anja, but there was a hardness in her gaze that spoke of experience beyond her years.

"W-what? Who are you?" Anja managed through chattering teeth, trying to subtly edge away from her unknown assailant.

The blonde girl gave an irritated huff. "No one. You're in my spot, that's all."

Anja blinked, glancing dubiously at the filthy alley and her own soggy perch. "But..." Comprehension dawned and she flushed. "Oh. Well, I can just go..."

She made move as if to rise, but a fresh lance of pain turned it into more of an awkward stumble.

"Don't bother," the girl said shortly. "Just don't do it again, or the next kick will break ribs." Her expression remained stonily impassive as she folded her arms. It was less of a threat than a statement of fact.

Anja swallowed thickly, trying not to let her mounting unease show. "Point taken. But... we're all refugees here, right? Couldn't we just... share? Two pairs of eyes are better than one, and you never know when you might need someone to watch your back..."

It was a long shot, particularly with a prickly character like this one, but desperate times and all that. The blonde stared at her for a long moment, brow faintly furrowed. Then she sighed and glanced away. "Just keep your mouth shut and stay out of my way. And tell anyone else who asks, this spot is full."

Anja hastily nodded her agreement. "My name is Anja, by the way. Anja Wolf."

"Annie," the blonde said curtly. And that was apparently that.

They passed the night in silence, huddled on opposite sides of the narrow alley. But it was, Anja admitted privately, just the slightest bit less miserable with someone else to share the darkness.
As dawn began to paint the sky in streaks of watery light, Anja finally gathered the nerve to speak again.

"I don't suppose... you haven't seen a Scout around here by any chance? Tall guy, blonde hair, green eyes that look like mine? He's my brother, Heinrik. I'd do anything to find him again..."

Annie visibly stiffened, her chilly gaze sharpening on Anja with an intensity that made the smaller girl want to squirm. For a moment, Anja thought she saw some unreadable emotion flicker in those icy blue depths. But then it was gone, hidden behind the impenetrable mask once more.

"No," Annie said flatly. "I haven't seen anyone like that. Do I look like the person to ask?" The scorn in her tone could have etched glass.

Anja wilted, but managed a nod. "You're right, I just thought... never mind. Thank you anyway." She pushed herself to her feet with a wince, feeling a decade older than her scant ten years. "If you do happen to hear anything..."

"I'll be sure to let you know," Annie said in a tone that implied just the opposite.

But then, almost too low to catch- "I'm sorry. About your brother."

Anja paused, surprised by the genuine emotion in Annie's voice. Despite the girl's rough exterior, she sensed a kindred spirit, someone who understood the depths of loss and pain. She knew, instinctively, that Annie had endured her own share of horrors, and that beneath the hardened shell lay a soul as wounded as her own. She blinked hard against the sudden sting in her eyes.

She nodded jerkily. "...thanks," she managed, the word sticking in her throat. Then she turned and began the long, limping trek back to the barn she'd claimed with her friends, mind awhirl.

Lost as she was in her own thoughts, Anja didn't immediately register that she was being hailed until the third or fourth repetition of her name. "Anja? Anja Wolf, is that you?"

She turned to find two figures in the unmistakable green cloaks of the Survey Corps watching her from the mouth of an alley. Even with their hoods raised against the persistent drizzle, she recognized the smaller of the two immediately. The ember of desperate hope flared painfully back to life in her chest.

"Lieutenant Levi!" She covered the distance between them at a run, ignoring the protest of bruised muscles. "I knew it! You guys made it! Eren kept saying the Scouts would be alright, he had faith in you even when I started to doubt... Please, is my brother with you? Is Heinrik okay?"

The words tumbled out in a rush as she reached the two Scouts, craning her neck as if Heinrik might appear from the shadows behind them at any moment. But then she registered the wretched, pinched cast to Levi's stern features, and the way the taller Scout was refusing to meet her gaze. Her heart dropped like a stone.

"I think we better talk inside," Levi said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Is there somewhere dry we can go?"

Anja mutely led them to the barn, her mind filled with a sort of blank static. Some distant part of her registered Mikasa, Eren, and Armin scrambling up in surprise and concern as the three of them ducked out of the rain, but she couldn't bring herself to look at them. Not when Levi and his subordinate were regarding her with such stark, aching pity.

With leaden fingers, Anja accepted the small bundle Levi pressed into her hands. "These were with him, at the end. I thought... I thought you'd want to have them," the Scout lieutenant said gruffly as she unwrapped the torn and a bloodied patch of the wings-of-freedom, Anja's heart clenched as underneath the patch she recognized Heinrik's pendant, the metal disk he had always worn so close to his heart. She picked it up with trembling fingers, the leather cord sliding through her grip like a whisper

"How," she choked out, the world blurring as her eyes filled.

Levi's lips thinned into a bloodless line. "He made it out of Shiganshina, but only just. By the time he found our squad, he... his wounds were too great. I still don't know how he stayed in the saddle that long, stubborn bastard." The lieutenant's voice hitched almost imperceptibly before firming once more.

"He passed on the news about the breach, gave us the warning we needed to pull back before the Titans hit our position in force. Your brother saved a lot of lives, Anja. I'm just sorry we couldn't save his."

Anja closed her eyes, hot tears leaking down her cheeks as she cradled Heinrik's effects to her chest like a baby bird. She was dimly aware of the others crowding around her, Armin's arms coming up to enfold her in a clumsy embrace as Mikasa and Eren hovered close. But in that moment, she had never felt more alone.

Heinrik was gone. She had no one left, only her hatred of the titans that took everything dragging her to keep on fighting.

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter IV: Rekindled

---

A year had passed since the fall of Wall Maria, since the day our world had been torn asunder by the monstrous titans. In some ways, it felt more like a thousand years, each day an eternity of grief and struggle.​

Anja's heart pounded as she raced through the narrow alleys of the Trost District, her pursuers' shouts echoing off the close-pressing walls. She vaulted over a low fence, her too-large beige jacket flapping around her thin frame, and shimmied up a drainpipe to the rooftops.

For all of us who survived, the nightmare was far from over. With so many refugees and not enough food to go around, that first winter was brutal.​

Anja hauled herself onto the terra cotta tiles, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Below, the soldiers pounded past, their heavy boots thudding on the cobblestones. "I think she went this way!" one of them called.

She smirked and took off at a silent run, leaping nimbly across the narrow gaps between buildings.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. I did what I had to do to survive. The military had put the refugees to work, trying to farm the unyielding soil to increase food production. But the elements refused to cooperate. Crops withered in the fields as an unseasonable cold snap descended, plunging the survivors into an even deeper pit of starvation .​

The wind whipped through Anja's long hair as she sprinted across the rooftops. She risked a glance over her shoulder and her heart nearly stopped. Two soldiers had taken to the roofs as well, their ODM gear glinting in the pale sunlight as they closed in on her.

Anja cursed under her breath and pushed herself harder, her legs burning with the effort. She leaped from rooftop to rooftop, skidding on loose tiles and nearly losing her footing more than once. The soldiers were gaining, their grappling hooks finding purchase in the eaves and chimneys.

Her mind raced as she scanned her surroundings, desperately searching for an escape route. There! A narrow alleyway, too tight for the soldiers to follow with their gear. She put on a burst of speed, her feet pounding against the clay tiles.

In the end, the government resorted to a final, desperate gambit. They conscripted all adult refugees into a massive campaign to retake Wall Maria. Over two hundred and fifty thousand souls... and barely a hundred ever came back. Just like that, nearly twenty percent of humanity had been snuffed out.​

At the last second, Anja launched herself off the edge of the roof, her arms windmilling as she sailed through the air. In a heart-stopping moment she realized she had misjudged the distance, just as she thought she might fall.

Their deaths just bought the rest of us more time… Mankind survived because of their sacrifice, even if some days it doesn't feel worth it.​

A strong hand gripped her arm, hauling her to safety. Anja looked up into the stern face of a dark eyed soldier equipped with ODM gear, his eyes hard beneath the brim of his hood.

"Gotcha, you little thief," he growled, tightening his hold.

Anja's mind raced, searching for an escape. She tensed, ready to fight, but the soldier was already dragging her towards the edge of the roof. "Let's see what the MPs have to say about your little crime spree."

Desperation lent her strength. With a twist and a jerk, Anja broke free of his grasp. She leaped from the roof, catching herself on a clothesline and using it to swing into the muddied alleyway below, scrapping against the tight walls.

She hit the mud in a flawed roll, already running as shouts of alarm and anger rang out above her. Anja darted through the narrow stretch, the soldiers struggled to follow, unable to make use of their gear. She desperately burst out into a crowded street.

Weaving through the throng of people, her heart hammering against her ribs. The sounds of pursuit had faded, the soldiers' frustrated shouts growing distant.

Certain she'd lost her tail, Anja ducked into the sheltered nook between two buildings to catch her breath. She reached into her deep pockets, a grin stealing over her face at the sight of her prize - four shiny apples and a fistful of coins. Not a bad haul, all things considered.

"Jackpot," she murmured, already imagining the look on her friends' faces when she brought home this bounty. They might grumble and scold, but nobody ever turned their noses up at a bit of extra food. Not these days.

"Well well, what have we here? A little thief, and a sloppy one at that."

Anja whirled, stance shifting defensively on pure instinct before she registered the familiar face. Lieutenant Levi leaned against the alley wall, arms crossed over his chest. Despite his short stature, he radiated an aura of coiled danger, his hooded eyes glinting in the dim light.

Her eyes widened. "Levi? What are you doing here?"

Levi pushed off the wall, closing the distance between them with measured steps. "I could ask you the same thing. I thought you were smarter than this, Anja. How long do you think you can keep up this petty crime spree before you end up in a cell? Or worse?"

Anja lifted her chin defiantly, even as a flush of mingled guilt and resentment heated her cheeks. "I never get caught," she muttered.

Levi snorted. "You just did. You're damned lucky it was me and not the MPs." He cocked his head, scrutinizing her thin, grimy face. Something like sympathy flickered in his eyes. "Listen up, because I'm only going to say this once. Find honest work, kid. Scrounge and save and file your teeth on your pride if you have to, but stay on the straight and narrow. You're not a little girl anymore - a year and you'll be old enough to enlist. Don't throw your life away before it's even begun."

Anja glanced away, shoulders hunching. Part of her wanted to argue, to scream that he had no idea what it was like, that his shiny officer's pin wouldn't keep him fed in the gutters. But deep down, she knew he was right. This path led nowhere good.

"Why do you care?" she asked instead, hating the plaintive note that crept into her voice.

Levi just looked at her for a long moment before turning away. "Believe it or not, you remind me of someone I used to know. A lifetime ago. Consider this a warning, from one survivor to another - get your act together before it's too late." He paused, then half turned to glance at her over his shoulder. "I won't be so lenient if I catch you again."

With that, he strode off, vanishing into the crowd as quickly as he'd appeared. Anja stared after him, a strange mix of emotions roiling in her gut. Then she shook herself and set out in the opposite direction, Levi's words turning over and over in her mind.

Anja pushed open the door to the ramshackle house she shared with Armin, Eren, and Mikasa, her steps heavy with exhausted resignation. Inside, she found her friends clustered around the rickety table, their heads bent together in close discussion. They glanced up as she entered, relief and worry warring across their faces.

"Anja! Where have you been?" Armin asked, standing to greet her. Dark shadows smudged the delicate skin beneath his too-bright eyes, a testament to the toll the past year had taken on him. "We were getting worried."

She managed a tired smile and dug into her pockets, tossing an apple to each of them. "Oh, you know. Around. Brought you guys some treats though!"

Armin frowned as he caught his, turning it over in his thin hands like it might disappear. "You have to stop doing this, Anja. It's too risky. If you get arrested..."

"That's what I keep telling her," Mikasa said quietly, taking a delicate bite of her own apple. In the past year, she had grown taller and leaner, her features sharpening into something austere and lovely. "Some officers came by today. They're hiring down at the stables. Decent wages too."

Anja wrinkled her nose at the thought of shoveling manure all day, but she couldn't deny the allure of steady - and legal - pay. "I'll think about it," she hedged.

Eren snorted, tossing his apple core into the small fire grate. Out of all of them, he had changed the most, his boyish features hardening into something fierce and unyielding. "Personally, I say those bastards had it coming. They turn us out to starve, then have the nerve to whine about a little petty theft?" He shook his head in disgust.

"Just be careful, okay?" Armin pleaded, catching Anja's hand to give it a quick squeeze. His fingers felt cold and bony, his grip weaker than she remembered. "We need you around. All of us, we have to stick together."

Something in Anja's chest twisted painfully at the naked concern in her friend's voice. Swallowing past the sudden tightness in her throat, she nodded. "I know. I will. I just..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Never mind. I think I'm going to get some air before I try my luck at the stables."

Ignoring Mikasa's questioning look, Anja slipped back out into the bustling streets. Her feet turned down the now-familiar path almost of their own accord, carrying her to the narrow alley between the two warehouses that once held the refugees, the little nook that had become her bolthole.



More often than not these days, it was occupied by a familiar blonde figure with a thousand-yard stare.

"Hey Annie," Anja called softly, settling down on an upturned crate a careful distance away.

Cold blue eyes cracked open to regard her flatly. "Anja," Annie said by way of greeting. As always, her tone was utterly inflectionless. She sat with her back against the wall, one knee drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped loosely around it. Her ever-present gray hoodie was worn and frayed at the edges, but meticulously clean.

They weren't friends, not exactly. Anja wasn't entirely sure what they were - allies of convenience, maybe, or just two wounded animals occasionally seeking shelter in the same dark den. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a mutual recognition of old hurts that ran soul-deep. They rarely spoke of their pasts or troubles, but the silence was somehow companionable anyway.

Anja dug into her jacket and withdrew the last apple, slightly bruised but still perfectly edible. She tossed it to Annie, who caught it deftly, her reflexes whip-quick despite her languid posture. "Thought you might like this."

Annie raised one pale eyebrow as she turned the fruit over in her calloused palm, her fingers long and tapered. "How thoughtful," she said dryly. But she took a bite anyway, her small white teeth flashing.

"Least I could do," Anja said with a small shrug, stretching out her legs and crossing them at the ankle. "No work today?"

"Not really. You?"

Anja made a face, tipping her head back against the alley wall. "Stables, in a bit. The glamorous life of a reformed thief slash child laborer."

Annie huffed out what might have been a laugh, there and gone too quickly to be sure. "So you finally got caught, huh? Told you you were sloppy."

"How did you-" Anja cut herself off, shaking her head ruefully. "Nevermind. Let me guess, takes one to know one?"

Annie's lips quirked in what was almost a smile, a small, secretive thing. "Something like that." She took another bite of apple, chewing slowly, her eyes distant. "So why are you here?"

Anja picked at a loose thread on her sleeve, worrying it between her fingers. "I was hoping you might show me a few more of those moves. The ones you used to kick my ass last time. Since I... almost got caught today and I figured they might come in handy, in case it happens again."

"You mean handy for your thieving?" Annie asked bluntly, her gaze sharpening on Anja's face. At her guilty flush, she shook her head. "I'm not judging. But if you're serious about changing careers...Never mind."

She stood abruptly, tossing the apple core aside and beckoning for Anja to do the same. "Come on then. Let's see if we can't hammer some actual technique into that thick skull of yours."

The next hour passed in a blur of sweat, curses, and freshly-blooming bruises as Annie put Anja through her paces with characteristic pitiless efficiency. By the time Annie finally called a halt, Anja was aching in places she hadn't known existed.

"Again," Anja panted, wiping blood from her split lip with the back of her hand. "I almost had you that time."

Annie snorted, not even winded. She flicked a strand of pale hair out of her eyes. "You didn't. And you won't. But you are blocking less with your face, so there's an improvement." She cocked her head, studying Anja with an unreadable expression. "You're still set on the military?"

Anja nodded firmly, squaring her shoulders despite the protest of sore muscles. "As soon as I'm old enough. You know that."

Something flickered behind Annie's icy gaze, there and gone too quick to parse. "Anja-"

But whatever she was about to say was lost as the bell tower began to chime the hour. Anja cursed and scrambled to her feet, dusting off her pants.

"Damn, I have to go. Same time next week?" she asked hopefully.

Annie hesitated, then gave a short nod. "Don't be late," was all she said. Then she turned and slipped away, her footsteps soundless on the cobblestones.

Anja watched her go, a strange sense of foreboding prickling the back of her neck, raising the fine hairs there. Then she shook it off and reached beneath her shirt, pulling out Heinrik's pendant. The metal was warm from resting against her skin, the etched design seeming to dance and shift in the fading light. Crossed swords, arched serpentine vines, a wolf's head with eyes that glinted with an almost lifelike intensity...

"What should I do, Heinrik?" Anja whispered, running her thumb over the familiar grooves. "I can't keep living like this."

She closed her eyes, imagining her brother's face, the gentle curve of his smile. "You're better than this, Anja," he seemed to whisper. "You know what you have to do."

Anja's grip tightened on the pendant. She knew what she had to do. It wouldn't be easy, but she owed it to Heinrik, to herself, to be more than just another street rat.

With a deep breath, Anja tucked the pendant back beneath her shirt and hurried towards the stables, a new sense of purpose fueling her steps.

The days settled into a wearying routine of hard labor and meager meals. True to her promise, Anja stopped stealing, no matter how her stomach cramped with hunger. In the evenings, she collapsed into her bedroll, feeling a hundred years old.

And yet, despite the exhaustion, Anja felt a sense of pride kindling in her chest. She was doing it. She was making an honest living, just like she'd promised. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

A week later, Anja returned to the alley for her meeting with Annie, a spring in her step despite the long day ahead. But when she arrived, she found their nook empty.

"Maybe she's just running late," Anja muttered to herself, settling onto her usual crate to wait.

But as the hours ticked by and the shadows lengthened, Annie still didn't appear. It was as though she had vanished into thin air.

Anja told herself not to take it personally. It wasn't like they'd made any promises. Annie had her own life, her own struggles. She'd show up again when she was ready.

But as the weeks crept past and the alley remained steadfastly Annie-less, an unnameable dread began to curdle in Anja's gut. She found herself obsessively scanning the faces in the crowded streets, hoping for a glimpse of that distinctive blonde hair pulled back in its severe bun, those icy blue eyes and curling lips. But Annie was simply gone, as if she'd never existed at all, a figment of Anja's imagination.

She didn't realize how much she'd come to rely on those sporadic meetings, that undemanding companionship, until it was abruptly ripped away. The loss hit her like a physical blow, leaving her feeling oddly adrift, unmoored. She threw herself into her work with a single-minded intensity that bordered on self-destructive, pushing herself to the point of exhaustion, trying to sublimate the gnawing ache of yet another abandonment.

---

Another year crawled past in an interminable slog of grit and grime and the endlessly turning gears of survival. And then, at long last, came the day Anja and her friends had been dreaming of since Shiganshina fell. The day she was finally old enough to enlist in the military.



She stood in formation with the other recruits, wearing a brand new uniform, chin held high under the scalding midday sun. Their drill instructor, a tall, bald man with severe eyes and a sharp goatee, stalked up and down the ranks like a prowling wolf, his voice booming as he heaped abuse on the hapless teenagers.

But as he passed Anja, he merely glanced at her, his gaze flickering with something like recognition before moving on. She frowned, puzzled by the lack of verbal assault, but quickly dismissed it as the instructor rounded on the red headed boy next to her.

"You there! What's your name, maggot?"

"F-Floch Forster, sir!" the boy stammered, his face pale and his eyes wide with terror.

"Well then, Forster, what the hell are you doing here? You think you've got what it takes to be a soldier? To face the Titans and come out alive?" the instructor roared, looming over the trembling recruit.

As Floch stuttered out a response, Anja kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, her thoughts turned inward as her heart pounding wildly against her ribs. This was it. The first step on the long road to taking back everything the Titans had stolen. The chance to finally fight back after so many years of helplessness. To become more than just another scrabbling refugee, another victim.

She let her burning gaze sweep across the neat rows of her fellow cadets, finding Mikasa's steady determination, Armin's nervous resolve, Eren's barely leashed fury. They had all come so far from the lost children who had stumbled out of the ashes of their home. Now they would learn how to be soldiers, warriors, titan-slayers. They would learn how to take back what was stolen from them all those years ago.

For Shiganshina. For Mom. For Heinrik. For everyone and everything that had been devoured by this cruel world.

This she swore, on her very life-

"You're the one I'm talking to! You! Who are you?!" Shadis's voice rang out again, jolting Anja from her thoughts. A commotion broke out a few rows ahead, drawing her attention. She craned her neck, trying to see what had caused the disturbance.

"Sasha Braus, from Dauper Village, Wall Rose South District!"

The ranks shifted and parted to let the instructor pass, her heart stopped dead in her chest.

There, standing tall and impassive amidst the sea of anxious faces...

Anja blinked once, twice, certain her eyes were playing tricks on her. It couldn't be. Annie had vanished over a year ago, without a word or a trace. Anja had searched for her, had waited for her, had finally resigned herself to the fact that she was gone for good.

And yet, here she was, as real and solid as the ground beneath Anja's feet.

Anja stared, her mind reeling. This couldn't be happening. Annie couldn't be here, couldn't be standing mere feet away after all this time. It had to be a dream, a hallucination, a cruel trick of the mind.

But as the ceremony wore on and Annie remained, solid and unmoving, Anja was forced to confront the impossible truth.

She had thought herself prepared for anything. But nothing could have readied her for this, for the sudden reappearance of the girl who had vanished like a ghost.

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter V: Ghosts of the Past

---

Crimson fog choked the air.​

Thick and cloying, the coppery stench of blood heavy on my tongue.​

I prowled through the haze, senses straining, every fiber of my being alight with predatory hunger.​

A flicker of movement up ahead - prey, ripe for the taking.

I lunged, muscles coiling and releasing like springs, propelling me forward with breathtaking speed. The chase was on.

They scattered before me, pale shadows in the murk. But I was relentless, tireless, a creature of pure instinct and savage need. I would run them down, one by one, until the fog ran red with their blood.​

The first fell easily, a flash of blonde hair and a choked scream quickly silenced. I tore into yielding flesh, hot blood flooding my maw, the crunch of bone and gristle a symphony in my ears.

More. I needed more. The hunger gnawed at me, insatiable, driving me ever onwards.​

Another stumbled, sprawling in the dirt. Wide green eyes stared up at me, a split second of recognition and horror before I fell upon them in a frenzy of rending claws and snapping jaws.​

A flash of red - a scarf, fluttering like a banner. I lunged, caught the trailing end between my teeth. A sharp jerk, a muffled cry, and the chase was over, the offering claimed.​

One by one, I culled the herd, glutting myself on their fear. But still, I was not sated. An elusive quarry tantalized me, dancing just out of reach. Flitting through the shadows like a ghost, taunting me with its uncanny lack of fear.​

Pale blonde hair, eyes like chips of glacial ice. A scent that was at once alien and achingly familiar. ​

I bared my fangs, a low growl building in my throat as I gathered myself to spring. This one would be mine. I would claim my prize.

I leapt, claws extended, jaws gaping. The world narrowed to a single point, the thrill of imminent victory thrumming through my veins.

But something was wrong. The scent changed, the elusive prey morphing before my eyes.​

Blonde hair darkened to auburn, icy blue eyes shifting to horrified green.

That face... Contorted in a rictus of agony and terror, stared back at me from the fog.

"Stop," it croaked, voice bubbling wetly with blood.

"Please...help me..."

I recoiled as if burned, a whine of confusion and distress catching in my throat. I knew that face, that voice. It was...it was...​

---

Anja bolted upright with a strangled gasp, heart jackhammering painfully against her ribs. For a moment, she just sat there, gulping air like she'd been drowning, sweat plastering her hair to her forehead.

A dream. It was just a dream. But it had felt so real, the coppery tang of blood still coating her tongue, the acrid stench of fear heavy in her nostrils.

"A-are you okay?"

Christa's hesitant voice filtered through the lingering haze of sleep and adrenaline. Anja blinked, registering the blonde girl peering at her from the adjacent bunk, cornflower-blue eyes wide with concern.

Anja swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. "Yeah," she managed at last, the word emerging raspy and unconvincing. "I'm fine. Just a nightmare."

"Geez, why did I have to get stuck with a bunch of weirdos?" Ymir groused from above, head poking over the edge of the top bunk. "Some of us are trying to sleep here."

"Huh? Wha's goin' on?" Sasha mumbled, sitting up groggily.

Christa shot Ymir a chiding look before turning back to Anja, brow furrowed. "Are you sure? You sounded really...distressed."

Anja waved her off, trying for a reassuring smile that felt more like a grimace. "Really, I'm okay. Sorry for waking you guys."

Ymir snorted. "Just try to keep it down next time. Beauty sleep is hard to come by around here."

Christa pursed her lips but refrained from scolding her roommate further. Instead, she gave Anja a tiny, encouraging smile before lying back down.

Anja waited until the soft sounds of their breathing evened out once more before swinging her legs over the side of the bed, clammy fingers gripping the edge of the mattress as she tried to center herself.

It was always the same dreams. The blood, the screams, the all-consuming hunger that threatened to drag her down into madness. And the face at the end, accusing and agonized. Her face.

Anja shook her head sharply, trying to dislodge the morbid thoughts. She couldn't afford to dwell on it, not with the grueling demands of each new day to contend with. She had to be strong, focused. She had to survive.

Splashing some tepid water on her face from the chipped basin in the corner, Anja forced herself through the motions of getting dressed, fingers fumbling slightly with the many straps and buckles of her uniform.

By the time she made it to the mess hall, the nightmare had receded to a dull throb at the back of her skull, the details already beginning to fade. Just one more ghost to add to the collection that haunted her, waking and sleeping.

She collected her meager rations and slid onto the bench beside Eren, "Morning." He mumbled a greeting. On her other side, Mikasa regarded her with a silent nod.

"More of them left last night," Eren said around a mouthful of porridge, jerking his chin towards a cluster of empty spots at the other end of the table. "Heard Gustav and Lana talking about it. Apparently the instructors found their bunks cleared out this morning. Damned cowards."

"Can you blame them?" Marco asked from across the table, his boyish face troubled. "This life...it's not for everyone."

Jean snorted, jabbing his spoon at the freckled boy. "Careful, Bodt. You're starting to sound like one of those 'cowards'."

"Shut it, horseface," Eren snapped, green eyes flashing. "Marco's got more courage in his pinky finger than you have in your whole body."

"Why don't you come over here and say that again?" Jean snarled, half-rising from his seat.

"Enough, both of you," Mikasa interjected, her quiet voice laced with steel. She forced Eren back down with a hand on his shoulder, shooting Jean a quelling glare.

Anja just rolled her eyes, they were at it again, she was too tired to even feign interest in their posturing. She focused on forcing down her flavorless porridge, trying not to gag on the pasty texture.

"Hey guys," Connie said, interrupting the staring match as he plopped down next to Jean with a loaded tray. "You think Shadis will ease up on us today, what with the weather and all?"

"Not a chance," Eren muttered darkly, tearing into a hard biscuit with more force than necessary. "That sadistic prick lives to make us suffer."

" Aw, c' mon, a little rain never hurt anyone! " Reiner's booming voice cut through the dull roar of the mess hall as he approached their table, Bertholdt a looming shadow at his shoulder. The blond mountain of a boy grinned as he clapped Eren heartily on the back, nearly sending him face-first into his bowl. "Adds character! Put some hair on your chest!"

" Easy for you to say, " Connie grumbled, poking listlessly at the slop on his plate. "I swear, sometimes I think you're not entirely human, Braun."

Reiner just laughed, a great, booming sound that drew eyes from nearby tables. Beside him, Bertholdt shifted uncomfortably, pale green eyes darting around as if expecting a reprimand for the disruption.

Anja watched them through her lashes, an odd feeling niggling at the back of her mind. There was something about those two, some subtle wrongness that set her teeth on edge. The way Reiner could flip from jovial to stone-cold serious on a dime, the watchful, almost hunted look in Bertholdt's eyes when he thought no one was looking...

She was pulled from her musings by a flash of familiar blonde hair in her peripheral vision. Her gaze snagged on Annie, sitting alone at the end of a nearby table. The other girl was methodically working her way through her own bowl of porridge, seemingly oblivious to the conversations and laughter around her.

As if sensing Anja's stare, Annie looked up, their eyes locking across the crowded room. For a moment, they just regarded each other, a wealth of unanswered questions stretching between them.

Then Annie looked away, expression utterly closed off, and the moment shattered. Anja felt a dull pang in her chest, an ache that had become all too familiar in the weeks since Annie's reappearance, they hadn't even spoken yet.

Anger welled up, hot and bitter on the back of her tongue. How dare Annie just sit there, cool as you please, as if the past year had never happened? As if she hadn't vanished without a trace, leaving Anja to wonder and worry and grieve for her lost friend?

The sudden screech of a bench being pushed back jolted Anja from her angry spiral. She glanced over to see Armin rising unsteadily to his feet, face pinched and pale.

" Armin? " Eren's brows furrowed in concern. "You okay?"

The blond boy waved him off with a shaky smile. "Fine. Just...just a little tired. I think I'll head out early, try to clear my head before drills."

He beat a hasty retreat, almost tripping over his own feet in his hurry to escape. Anja frowned after him, an uneasy feeling coiling in her gut. Armin had always been the most sensitive of their group, the most prone to overthinking and anxiety. It wasn't unusual for him to need a moment to gather himself, especially after the rough weeks of training they had endured...

She pushed the thought aside as Shadis's bellow rang out across the mess hall, the familiar call to muster that never failed to fill her with a mix of dread and weary resignation.

"Cadets! Fall in and form up in the yard! Move it!"

Anja sighed, shoving away her half-eaten breakfast and standing with the rest of the 104th. No rest for the wicked, as the saying went. And in the eyes of their fearsome commandant, they were all as wicked as they came.

They assembled under a sullen grey sky, rain dripping from the brim of Shadis's campaign cover as he paced before them. His eyes were flinty, his expression promising a world of pain as he surveyed the shivering cadets.

"Listen up, maggots!" he roared over the drumming of the rain, voice cracking like a whip. "Today's little jaunt is gonna separate the soldiers from the shit-stains. You've got ten hours to make it to the checkpoint on the far side of the forest and back."

A ripple of unease passed through the ranks at this pronouncement. Ten hours, through unfamiliar terrain, in this miserable weather? It seemed an impossible task.

"You fall behind, you'll be running laps around the compound until you puke. You don't make it back before nightfall, you'll be digging latrines with your bare hands for the next month. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir!" the cadets chorused, voices thin and strained with cold.

Shadis nodded sharply, a cruel smile briefly flashing across his severe features. "Good. Now move out, double time! I'll be watching."

With that, he swung astride his waiting horse and set off at a punishing pace, clearly expecting them to keep up on foot. Anja suppressed a groan, already feeling the first twinges of protest in her muscles.

Beside her, Armin had gone a delicate shade of green, his breathing quick and shallow. Anja reached out instinctively, brushing her fingers against his elbow in a subtle gesture of comfort.

"Steady on," she murmured, pitching her voice low so only he could hear. "We'll get through this together. Just like always."

Armin shot her a grateful look, some of the tension easing from his thin shoulders. Ahead of them, Eren and Mikasa set the pace, their strides smooth and synchronized as they began to pull ahead of the pack.

The first few miles passed in a blur of misery, the rain driving against their faces like icy needles, turning the ground to a morass of sucking mud that dragged at their boots with every squelching step. Anja's lungs burned, her thighs aching with the strain of pushing herself onward.

Slowly but surely, the group began to fracture, the weaker and less determined falling behind. Anja gritted her teeth and forced herself to keep going, Armin and the others arrayed around her like a phalanx.

At some point, Reiner fell back to join them, his broad face ruddy with exertion beneath the sheen of rain.

"Doing alright there, Arlert?" he puffed, eyes crinkling in a strained approximation of his usual easy grin. "Lookin' a little peaky."

"I'm fine," Armin gasped, visibly struggling to keep pace. His clothes clung to his slight frame, plastered to his skin by the relentless downpour.

Reiner frowned, a rare look of concern briefly replacing his jovial mask. "Don't push yourself too hard," he cautioned, clapping a meaty hand on the smaller boy's shoulder. "Slow and steady, yeah?"

Armin just shook his head stubbornly, blond hair darkened to a dull brass by the rain.

" I can do this, " he insisted through chattering teeth. "I have to."

Anja and Reiner exchanged a look over his head, worry and grudging respect mingling in their gazes. They both knew how much Armin had to prove, to himself most of all. He had always been the brains of their operation, the strategist and the scholar. But out here, in the mud, the sweat and the teeth-gritting slog of endurance, he was determined to show that he was just as capable as any of them.

The hours crawled by with agonizing slowness, marked only by the steady rhythm of their panting breaths and the squelch of their boots in the mud. The checkpoints Shadis had described were few and far between, little more than faded strips of cloth tied to the gnarled boughs of trees, fluttering forlornly in the gusting wind.

Anja felt her grip on time start to slip, exhaustion blurring the edges of her perception. Had it been six hours since they set out, or eight? How far had they come, how much further did they have to go?

At some point, she registered dimly that Armin was no longer beside her, his familiar head of blond hair lost amidst the laboring bodies of the other cadets. A surge of alarm jolted through her, momentarily clearing the fog of fatigue from her mind.

"Armin?" she called, craning her neck to try to catch a glimpse of him. "Armin!"

But there was no response, the pounding of the rain and the rasp of heaving lungs swallowing her voice. A sinking feeling settled in Anja's gut even as she redoubled her pace, trying to push her way back through the pack to where she had last seen him.

A flash of movement in the corner of her eye, a glimpse of sodden blond hair - there! Armin had fallen behind, his slight form crumpled at the base of a towering oak, his uniform covered in mud. Even from a distance, Anja could see the way his narrow chest heaved, his skin ashen beneath the sheen of rain and sweat.

She didn't even hesitate, peeling away from the main group and hurrying to his side. He looked up at her approach, blue eyes glassy and unfocused.

"Anja," he slurred, struggling to push himself upright with trembling arms. "I'm sorry, I can't...I can't..."

"Yes, you can," Anja insisted, hauling him to his feet with a grunt of effort. She slung his arm over her shoulders, taking some of his weight as she started forward again. "We're almost there, Armin. Just a little further."

She had no idea if that was true, the endless expanse of trees and rain blurring into a featureless mass around them. But she infused her voice with every ounce of certainty she could muster, willing him to believe it.

Armin stumbled along beside her, his breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. Anja gritted her teeth and pressed on, every muscle screaming in protest as she half-carried, half-dragged him through the sucking mud.

"Arlert!" Shadis's bellow cut through the drone of the rain like a knife, making them both flinch. The commandant loomed out of the gloom, his horse dancing in agitation as he bore down on them. "On your feet, maggot! And you cadet, what the hell do you think you are doing?!"

"He's exhausted, sir," Anja panted, meeting Shadis's gimlet stare with a defiant tilt of her chin. "I won't leave him behind."

Shadis's eyes narrowed, his lips peeling back from his teeth in a snarl. For a moment, Anja was certain he would order her to abandon Armin to the elements, to leave him retching in the mud while she pressed on.

But to her shock, he simply jerked his head in a curt nod, something almost like approval flashing in the depths of his cold gaze.

"Then you'd better step lively, Wolf," he growled, spurring his horse back to the head of the column. "Double time!"

Anja blinked sweat and rain from her eyes, hardly daring to believe their reprieve. Beside her, Armin made a small, pained sound, his head lolling against her shoulder.

"Come on," she urged, readjusting her grip on his waist. "One foot in front of the other, yeah? We can do this."

And so they did, staggering on through the downpour until at last, blessedly, the dark smudge of the compound's walls came into view through the sheeting rain. Anja nearly wept at the sight, relief and exhaustion warring for dominance in her chest.

They stumbled across the finish line a full hour after the rest of the cadets, Armin a dead weight in Anja's aching arms. She lowered him carefully to the ground, before allowing herself to collapse next to him against a tree trunk, every muscle quivering with exhaustion. Her feet felt like pulped meat inside her boots, blisters rubbing agonizingly with each small movement.

Around them, the others were in similar states of collapse, sprawled in the mud like the casualties of some great battle. Even Mikasa looked winded, her usually stoic face pinched and drawn. Beside her, Eren cursed under his breath as he massaged a vicious cramp in his calf.

Anja just closed her eyes, letting the rain sluice over her upturned face. They had made it. Battered, shaken, but unbroken.

She cuffed Armin lightly on the shoulder. "Don't scare me like that again, yeah?"

Armin huffed a laugh, even as he rubbed his shoulder. "I'll try to restrain myself from faceplanting in the future. And Anja... thanks. For not leaving me."

She just bumped shoulders with him companionably. "Anytime." They stayed there for a moment, then she pushed to her feet with a groan, suddenly feeling every one of her aching muscles. "Come on, we should get some food before Sasha scarfs it all."

After the grueling hike, dinner in the mess hall was a subdued affair, everyone too tired to do more than shovel down food and stagger off to their bunks.

Armin, too exhausted, merely took a bun of bread and headed straight back to the barracks.

As Anja collected her food, she soon found herself wedged between Conny and Sasha, the latter devoured her food with gusto. "Mmf, heyyy, Anya!" The brunette mumbled around a truly prodigious mouthful of bread. "Fff'you're not gonna eat 'at, can I...?"

Anja had barely tasted her stew, fatigue rendering everything dull and flavorless, she just shoved it into Sasha's waiting hands. The other girl made a noise of delight and attacked it, all but licking the bowl clean.

"Sasha, I swear you're going to choke yourself one of these days," Connie said mildly from across the table, not even bothering to look up, immersed shuffling a deck of colorful cards.

Sasha just shrugged cheerfully, already eyeing up Anja's untouched bread roll hopefully. Anja sighed and handed it over, privately wondering where the bottomless pit that was Sasha's stomach even put it all. Anja just shook her head, torn between amusement and disgust. That girl's stomach was a mystery for the ages. She supported herself with one arm on the table, struggling not to fall asleep.

"You look like shit, Wolf."

Anja cracked an eye open to see Ymir smirking down at her, an uncharacteristically concerned Christa hovering at her elbow. The two were polar opposites in every way - Ymir with her sharp tongue and devil-may-care attitude, Christa with her endless compassion and angelic aura.

With an effort, Anja dredged up a tired grin. "Speak for yourself, freckles. I'm the pinnacle of grace and beauty, even on my worst days."

Ymir snorted, crossing her arms. "In your dreams maybe. Seriously, the hell were you thinking, hauling Arlert's scrawny ass all that way? You trying to earn yourself a one-way ticket to Shadis's shitlist? I thought you were smarter than that."

Christa made a distressed noise, laying a quelling hand on Ymir's arm. "Don't be cruel! I think it was incredibly brave, what Anja did. Armin's lucky to have a friend like her."

Anja bit back a smile. Sometimes Christa seemed so unrelentingly sweet and pure that Anja half suspected she shit rainbows and sunshine. It was a miracle Ymir's teeth hadn't rotted out from prolonged exposure.

Pushing herself upright with a wince, Anja shrugged. "Armin's tougher than he looks. He's got more guts than most of the meatheads here, present company excluded of course." She shot Ymir a cheeky wink. "Besides, in my experience, you don't leave friends behind. No matter what."

Ymir rolled her eyes, but there was a flicker of something like respect in her gaze. "Spoken like a true hero," she drawled, but the sarcasm lacked its usual bite. "Careful, Wolf. Keep that up and you'll have your own little cult of personality forming. Might even give Jaeger a run for his money in the martyr wannabe department."

Christa just smiled, giving Anja's shoulder a gentle squeeze before tugging Ymir away, murmuring something about letting her rest. Probably off to braid each other's hair and whisper sweet nothings, Anja mused wryly.

As she watched them go, she felt a sudden pang of loneliness. The mess hall seemed too loud, too crowded, the press of bodies and chatter of voices grating on her raw nerves.

She found herself slipping out into the cool evening air almost without conscious thought, her feet carrying her towards the relative peace of the barracks, already dreaming of dropping on her bed. She passed past the training course in a haze.

The field was deserted at this hour, the titan training dummies like monsters lurking in the dark. Anja picked her way through the obstacles, the familiar terrain soothing in its emptiness.

She was so lost in her own exhausted daze that she almost didn't see the familiar figure leaning against the trunk of a gnarled oak at the edge of the field. But then a glint of pale blonde hair caught her eye and Anja stopped dead, her heart suddenly pounding against her ribs.

For a moment, Anja was seized by the urge to just keep walking, to brush past the other girl as if she hadn't seen her. After all, Annie had been avoiding Anja for weeks, never so much as glancing her way during drills or in the mess hall.

But something - maybe the exhaustion, maybe the lingering adrenaline from training, maybe just the raw, anger - made Anja change course. Her feet carried her towards the tree almost of their own volition, until she was standing just a few paces from Annie.

"Annie."

The blonde girl glanced up, her expression perfectly blank, a single eyebrow slightly raised up in question. "Anja."

Anja took a deep breath, trying to control the storm of emotions raging in her chest. "We need to talk."

Annie's ice-blue eyes narrowed fractionally. "About what?"

She scoffed. "About you disappearing without a word and then showing up here like nothing happened. I think I deserve an explanation."

Something flickered in Annie's gaze, gone too quick to decipher. She pushed off from the tree, squaring her shoulders. "Trost was a long time ago. Things change."

Anja laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. "Yeah, clearly. But I thought our friendship meant something, Annie. I thought I meant something to you."

"You did," Annie said, her voice cool and even. "But I had my reasons for leaving. It wasn't personal."

Anger flared hot and bright in Anja's chest, mingling with the sting of betrayal. "It felt pretty damn personal to me. I trusted you, Annie. I thought we had each other's backs. But you just left, without a word, without a goodbye. Do you have any idea how that felt? I even thought you died!"

Annie's jaw tightened, her gaze cutting away. "I did what I had to do. It wasn't about you."

"Bullshit," Anja snapped, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "If it wasn't about me, you would've told me. You would've trusted me enough to say goodbye. But instead, you just vanished, like our friendship was nothing. Like I was nothing."

Annie was silent for a long moment, her expression unreadable. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and tight, almost pained. "You weren't nothing. But I couldn't... I can't be what you want me to be, Anja. Not then, and not now."

Anja stared at her, anger and hurt warring with a desperate need to understand. "And what is it you think I want you to be? I just wanted you to be my friend, Annie. I wanted you to trust me, like I trusted you."

Annie's eyes flashed, something raw and ragged lurking in their depths. "Trust is a luxury I can't afford. Not in this world. Not with..." She trailed off, her jaw clenching as if biting back words.

Anja shook her head, frustration and sorrow rising in her throat. "Fine. Keep your damned secrets. But don't expect me to act like I don't even know you and pretend that everything's fine between us."

She turned to go, her heart heavy and aching in her chest. But before she'd taken more than a few steps, Annie's voice stopped her.

"Wait."

Anja paused, glancing back over her shoulder. Annie was watching her, an odd expression on her face. It was gone in an instant, replaced by her usual cool mask.

"We can't be friends," Annie said, the words coming out clipped and precise. "But... I made you a promise, back in Trost. That I'd teach you how to fight. If you're still interested..."

Anja blinked, taken aback by the offer. It wasn't an apology, not even close. But it was something, a tiny crack in Annie's iron-clad defenses.

She considered for a moment, pride warring with the need for any scrap of connection with her old friend. In the end, the latter won out.

"Alright," Anja said, lifting her chin. "I'll take you up on that. But don't think this changes anything between us."

Annie's lips twitched, something that might have been amusement or respect flashing in her eyes. "Meet me here tomorrow after drills. And don't be late."

With that, she turned and strode away, leaving Anja staring after her with a mix of frustration and cautious anticipation simmering in her gut.

It wasn't the resolution she'd hoped for part of her regretted even taking that offer. But it was something, a tentative truce in the midst of the cold war that had sprung up between them.

A part of her that looked at Annie and saw not just the cold, aloof exterior, but the glimpses of something else that had drawn Anja to her in the first place, something she couldn't quite put into words.

She would find a way to reach that girl again, to understand the choices she'd made and the secrets she kept. And if the only way to do that was through bruises and sore muscles and the unforgiving language of combat... so be it.

Anja had never been one to back down from a challenge. And Annie Leonhart sure was one.

One she fully intended to meet head-on, no matter the cost.

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter VI: The Beast

---

Blood. On my face, my clothes. I can taste it, thick and coppery on my tongue.

Screams echo in my ears, distant and distorted, like I'm underwater.

"Please, stop!" a voice begs, broken and desperate.

Is it mine?

I can't tell anymore.

The world tilts, spins, dissolves into a red haze of fury and pain and--​

---

16 hours earlier​

"Anja? Anja!"

Marco's voice jolted her back to the present. She blinked, her eyes refocusing on the fluffy white clouds drifting lazily across the sky. She'd been lost in thought, her mind a million miles away from the sunny day and the training mission ahead.

The rest of her squad was gathered around, checking their gear and supplies. Marco stood in front of her, his honest face etched with a hint of concern. "All set? We're heading out soon."

Anja simply nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Ready when you are."

Thomas sidled up, a mischievous grin on his face. "Aww, is someone feeling down because she didn't get paired with her girlfriend for this mission?"

Anja rolled her eyes, shoving him playfully. "Har har. You're just jealous because Annie can kick your ass six ways to Sunday without breaking a sweat."

Thomas clutched his chest in mock hurt. "You wound me. And here I thought we had something special."

Anja snorted, hoisting her heavy backpack onto her shoulders. The motion made her wince slightly, her bruised and battered hands protesting the strain. The price of going toe-to-toe with Annie day after day, pushing herself to the brink and then some.

She flexed her fingers, feeling a satisfying crack. "In your dreams, Wagner. Now let's get moving before Shadis decides to come out here and kick all our asses."

The others murmured in agreement, shouldering their own packs and checking their ODM gear one last time. They set off into the forest, the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves overhead. Anja fell into step beside Marco she watched Thomas pull out a small notebookand pencil from his pocket.

Anja glanced over at him, taking in his tall, lanky frame and the unruly mop of sandy hair that perpetually fell into his warm brown eyes.

"Alright, let's see." he began, flipping open the notebook with a flourish. "Mission log, day one: Squad Leader Marco Bodt, with Cadets Sasha Braus, Mina Carolina, Anja Wolf, and yours truly, Thomas Wagner, embarking on a standard 40-kilometer hike and navigation exercise.

Weather is hot and humid, morale is... well, we'll say 'optimistic for now." He grinned at the others, ignoring the good-natured eye rolls and laughs.

He stuffed the notebook back. "Well, that should suffice for now. Shadis must be seriously trying to kill us, I mean, forty kilometers? In this heat?" Thomas groaned, wiping sweat from his brow.

Mina, always with an anxious expression nodded fervently, her dark pigtails swinging. "I heard last year, one of the cadets actually passed out from heatstroke on this same exercise. They had to be carried back to camp on a stretcher!"

"Really? I thought it was just a rumor," Sasha said, her brows furrowing in concern. She patted her stomach, a small frown tugging at her lips. "Guys, what if I pass out? I'm already feeling a bit peckish, and we've only just started! Do you think the rations will be enough? What if we get lost and run out of food?"

Sasha's voice had taken on a slightly panicked edge, her words tumbling out in a rush. She rummaged frantically through her pack, as if hoping to discover a hidden cache of snacks.

Anja rolled her eyes fondly. "Sasha, you're always starving. I'm pretty sure your stomach is a separate entity from the rest of you, with its own wants and needs."

"Hey, I can't help it if I have a healthy appetite!" Sasha protested, finally pulling out a slightly squashed bread roll and taking a large bite. Around a mouthful of bread, she mumbled, "A girl's gotta eat to keep her strength up. You never know when you might need to outrun a Titan, after all."

Anja just shook her head at the suggestion, an impossibility within the walls, the worst they could find would be a wild animal--

"Tstch, Titan? More like wild boar," Mina giggled. "Remember last month, when Sasha tried to take on that pygmy pig during ODM training?"

"In my defense, it looked a lot smaller from a distance!" Sasha huffed.

Thomas snickered. "Yeah, right up until it tried to gore you with its tiny tusks. I thought Shadis was going to bust a vein, he was yelling so loud."

Even Marco, who had been studying the map with a furrowed brow, cracked a smile at the memory. "I don't think 'Beware the fearsome pygmy pigs' is an official part of our training, Sasha," he said dryly.

"Speak for yourself," Anja chuckled. "I, for one, feel much better prepared to face the porcine menace now."

Sasha stuck her tongue out at them, but she was grinning. "Laugh it up, but when the Pig Titan comes knocking, don't expect me to share my secret techniques with any of you."

---

Hands around his throat, squeezing. Face purples, eyes bulging in their sockets. He claws at my wrists, nails scoring deep, no pain.

"You fucking monsters,"

A snarl. Guttural. Raw.

"I'll kill you. I'll kill all of you."

Slam his head against the ground, again and again, the sickening crunch of bone, the warm wetness of blood on my hands. Straddling his chest, lips peeled back , beast lost to the thrill of the kill.

Suddenly, a blow.

Stars explode behind my eyes, blood flooding my mouth.​

---

Anja hit the ground hard, the impact driving the air from her lungs in a painful whoosh. She gritted her teeth, tasting blood on her tongue as she pushed herself up on shaking arms.

The sun beat down mercilessly on the training grounds, the air heavy with the scent of dirt and sweat .

Annie stood over her, cool and impassive as ever. "Really?" she said, one pale eyebrow arched in a silent challenge.

Anja surged to her feet, ignoring the protest of her battered body. She lashed out with a wild punch, aiming for Annie's gut, but the blonde dodged easily, her movements fluid and precise. A swift kick to the back of Anja's knees sent her sprawling once more, her face pressing into the sun-baked earth.

"Stop," Annie said, her voice flat. "Why are you wasting my time with this? Did you want to learn or just get an excuse to try to hit me?"

Anja's blood boiled, the humiliation and frustration bubbling over. Annie behaved as unapologetic as ever. "Does it matter? !" she snarled, launching herself at Annie in a fury of flailing limbs.

But Annie was too quick, too controlled. She caught Anja's fist with her knee, using the momentum to sweep her legs out from under her. Anja hit the dirt with a muffled curse, pain lancing through her already bruised body.

"Damn it!"

Annie stared down at her, something like pity flickering in her icy blue eyes. "I take it you're still angry?"

"Screw you!" Anja spat, dragging herself upright on trembling legs. Every breath was agony, but she refused to back down.

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Annie's mouth, gone as quickly as it appeared. "I can do this all day, you know?"

"Oh yeah? Show me !" Anja charged, a battle cry tearing from her throat. But her body betrayed her, exhausted muscles giving out at the crucial moment. She stumbled, her punch going wide, and crumpled at Annie's feet in a pathetic heap.

Annie stood over her, silent and unmoving. "Get up," she said at last, her tone brooking no argument. "You think this little temper tantrum of yours will do you any good in a real fight?"

She winced, shame and anger warring in her chest as she struggled to rise. "You have to tone down your emotions," Annie continued, circling her like a shark scenting blood. "Observe your opponent with a cool mind. Be two steps ahead."

Anja finally regained her feet, clutching her throbbing arm. "Easy for you to do, huh?" she panted, glaring at the blonde through sweat-soaked bangs. "You've got no emotions at all."

Annie's gaze shuttered, her posture stiffening almost imperceptibly. "There's no place for emotions in a fight," she said, her voice cold and clipped. "They make you sloppy. Make you doubt. You can't give your enemy that advantage."

Anja gritted her teeth, forcing down the surge of anger and humiliation. She raised her fists, settling into a defensive stance. Annie nodded, something like approval glinting in her eyes.

"Now focus."

---

5 hours earlier​

"Hear that?" Sasha froze, her head cocked to the side, listening intently, her keen eyes scanning the shadowed underbrush with an intensity Anja had rarely seen from the normally flighty girl.

Everyone stopped, turning to look at Sasha, then focusing on the bushes.

"Huh? I didn't hear anything," Mina said after a moment, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"I could've sworn I heard something," Sasha insisted, taking a step towards the tree line. "It stopped when we did…"

A flicker of unease passed through the group, the hairs on the back of Anja's neck standing up.

But before any thought could fully form, Sasha's eyes widened, a grin splitting her face. "Oh! But what if it's a deer!" She clasped her hands together, practically salivating at the thought. "Imagine! Venison roasted over the fire, juicy and tender..."

The tension broke as the others chuckled, shaking their heads at Sasha's one-track mind.

Marco, unflappable as ever, just shook his head. "Let's just focus on the mission. If we keep going, we might be able to make it before it gets dark."

He started forward again, the others falling into step behind him. But as Anja brought up the rear, she couldn't fully shake the unease at the base of her skull. She glanced back over her shoulder, scanning the treeline one last time.

Nothing. Just the rustling of leaves in the wind and the distant call of birds.

Anja shook herself, hurrying to catch up with the others.



They had been hiking for hours, the sun sinking lower in the sky with each passing minute bathing the sky in a mix of red and blue. Their tempers were starting to fray and they felt no closer to their objective.

"We'll never make it in time, it's useless!" Mina groaned, swatting at a cloud of gnats that had taken to orbiting her head.

Thomas sighed, running a hand through his sweat-drenched hair. "We should have packed more supplies, this is going to take us days." His normally cheerful face was pinched with fatigue.

Marco tried to lighten the mood. "Come on Tom, don't be so exaggerated. We've got more than enough."

Sasha's eyes darted nervously to the dense forest surrounding them. "You think the others made it?"

Anja snorted. "Not sure about the rest. But knowing Mikasa and Annie, I'd bet my rations that their squad is there already, sharpening their blades and waiting for the rest of us to catch up."

Thomas cocked his head, curiosity momentarily overriding his exhaustion. "Hey Anja, what's the deal with Annie anyway? She allergic to people or something?"

"Only idiots," Anja shot back with a smirk.

"Oh ha, ha, getting back at me for earlier? Seriously though..."

Anja's grin faded and she shrugged, a familiar pang of frustration rising in her chest. "Honestly, it's hard even for me to tell sometimes. She's not exactly an open book."

"Forget books, that girl's a locked safe," Thomas muttered. "Probably boobytrapped, too."

Whatever response Anja might have made was lost in the sudden urgency of Marco's shout.



"Two Titans, dead ahead!"

Anja whipped around, It can't be! she thought, her hands flying instinctively to her blades...only to fall still as she registered the distinct lack of thundering footsteps, taking in the targets, she realized they were nothing more than wooden titan dummies.

She shot Marco a long, deadpan look.

The freckled boy had the grace to look sheepish. "Hey, we're supposed to take this seriously, remember? Pretend they're real."

Anja rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. She gestured dismissively at the two mock titans in the distance. "Pretty sure real Titans don't stand around like department store mannequins, but whatever helps you sleep at night, Marco."

Sasha, who had been uncharacteristically focused on their surroundings for most of the hike, suddenly seemed to snap back to her usual bubbly self. She hefted her blades with a mischievous grin.

"Ooh, dibs on the one on the left! Anja, you take the right and we'll race to see who can drop theirs first!"

---

The hiss of gas and the clank of metal filled the air as Anja shot forward, propelled by her ODM gear. She rocketed towards the dummy, blades held at the ready, the wind whipping through her auburn braid. At the last moment, she twisted, her cables reeling in sharply as she spun in a tight arc around the target. Her blades flashed, biting into the wood, but her momentum was off, the cuts shallow and uneven. Chunks of wood sprayed out, peppering her face and arms as she completed her pass.

Anja cursed, adjusting her grip on the handles as she circled back for another attempt. Her form was improving, but she still lacked the finesse and control. She could feel the strain in her muscles, the burn of exertion, she pushed through it, determined to master the technique.

As she landed heavily on the grass, Anja noticed Annie watching from beneath a nearby tree. The blonde girl leaned against the trunk, arms crossed, her expression distant and pensive. There was a heaviness to her posture, a melancholy that seemed out of place on her usually stoic features.

Anja frowned, wiping the sweat from her brow as she made her way over. "Hey," she greeted, sheathing her blades with a metallic snick.

Annie glanced up, seeming to register Anja's presence for the first time. "You're really pushing yourself," she observed, her tone neutral but her eyes shadowed.

Anja shrugged, rolling her shoulders to ease the tension. " I still have a lot to improve. You don't seem to care much for it though, the training ."

Annie looked away, her gaze unfocused. "I don't see the point..." she murmured, almost to herself. She slid down the tree trunk, sitting on the grass, knees pulled up to her chest.

Anja's frown deepened. This wasn't like Annie. She seemed... vulnerable. Haunted. "Is something wrong?" Anja asked softly.

Annie was silent for a long moment, her fingers absently plucking at the blades of grass. "No, I was just... thinking about something," she said at last, her voice soft.

"Oh?" Anja prompted gently, as she settled down beside her.

"It's stupid, really... I was thinking about my father. " Her voice distant . "He... he taught me everything I know." Annie's words were halting, uncertain.

"Must be a tough guy," Anja mused, trying to picture the man who could have molded someone like Annie.

"He is... He's all I have left. He's why I'm here, after all." Annie's voice trailed off, her eyes unfocused .

Anja watched her, a sudden blooming ache in her chest. She recognized that tone, that faraway look. The look of someone carrying a weight too heavy to bear alone.

"You told me about your brother, your mother, your home... how you lost it all to those... things. That's why you're here. But why?" Annie turned to look at Anja, her eyes searching, almost pleading.

Anja held her gaze, her own voice soft but firm. "Why what?"

Annie shook her head. "There's no helping it, no real way to fight back against the Titans. Why go through all this effort? When there's nothing left to fight for? Why give up your life?"

Anja held her gaze, a fierce conviction rising in her chest. "Because there's always something worth fighting for," she said, the words ringing with quiet intensity. "As long as there are people left we care about, people we want to protect, no price is too high."

Something flickered in Annie's eyes, a glimmer of pain, of sorrow. She looked down, her next words barely a whisper.

"No price is too high... is it?"

---

"Hah, buyers do pay extra for the feisty ones."

Hot, sticky coppery liquid fills my mouth, coats my face.

A flash of movement, glint of metal.

"Maybe I'll keep you for myself." Hot breath on my ear, stale, foul.

Hands clawing at my face. Knife flashes. Too late.

Teeth sinking into flesh. Blood gushing, thick, coppery.

Tear. Rip. Struggle. Fight. Jaw clenched, worrying the wound. Rabid.

Taste of terror. Agony. Intoxicating. Pulsing. Blood. Fills everything.

More. Spinning. Falling.

Blackness.​

---

2 hours earlier​

Mina flopped down onto a fallen log with a relieved sigh, shrugging out of her heavy pack and ODM gear. "My feet can't take much more of this."

Thomas joined her, fishing a ration bar out of his pack and tearing into it. "You said it. Hey Marco, think we've got time for a quick shuteye before we head out again? I'm beat."

Marco looked up, the last remnants of light were hiding under the horizon, light scarcely filtering through the trees. "We're making good time," he said, consulting his map once more. "I think we can afford to take a breather, maybe we can make one final push to the rendezvous point, Sasha, how far out would you say we are?"

Sasha, who had shimmied up a nearby tree to get a better vantage point, slid back down to the ground with a grunt. "I'd say no more than five kilometers, give or take. We're definitely on the right track now. But I think we should rest for the night, we can continue at dawn, no need to risk getting lost."

Marco stood there for a moment, hands on his hips, then nodded. "Might as well get some sleep then. We'll make camp here, rest up and recharge. We move again at first light. Sound good?"

There was a chorus of weary agreement as the cadets began to unroll their bedrolls and settle in for a brief respite.

"I'll take first watch." Anja volunteered.

"I'm too keyed up to sleep anyways."

Marco nodded and with that she perched on a broad bough, legs dangling into space as she stared out into the night-shrouded forest.

The only sound was the soft whispers of the wind through the leaves and the muted snores of her teammates. High above, the stars glittered in the moonless sky, cold and impossibly distant.

Anja's eyelids grew heavy and she let them drift shut, just for a moment. The peaceful silence of the forest seemed to close in around her like a blanket, muffling her thoughts and lulling her into a doze.

---

The sun was setting over the training grounds, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Anja and Annie sat side by side beneath a large oak tree on a grassy hill, their breaths still coming a little fast from their latest spar. They were not far from camp, the distant sounds of the other cadets audible over the gentle whisper of the wind.

Annie glanced over at Anja, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "You're getting better," she said, her tone just shy of teasing. "Almost managed to land a hit on me this time."

Anja chuckled, bumping Annie's shoulder with her own. "Oh, shut up. We both know you're still leagues above me."

Annie's smirk widened into something almost like a genuine smile. "True. But you're not as hopeless as you used to be."

Anja just shook her head, a grin tugging at her own lips. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, watching as the first stars began to wink into existence in the darkening sky.



"Hey, Annie?" Anja said after a while, her voice soft and pensive. "Do you ever think about what life was like before? Before the wall fell, I mean."



Annie stiffened, her gaze fixed on some distant point on the horizon. For a long moment, Anja thought she wasn't going to answer.

"Sometimes," Annie said at last, her words measured. "But those memories... they're not always pleasant."

Anja frowned, turning to look at her friend. "What do you mean?"

Annie sighed, flexing her fingers before closing her hand into a fist. "Let's just say my childhood was... difficult. A lot of pressure, a lot of expectations. I had to grow up fast."

She paused, seeming to weigh her next words. "Training, fighting, it's all I've ever known. It's what I was raised for, to be a warrior, a soldier." Annie looked away, her expression clouding. "Or at least, that's what I was always told."

Anja's heart clenched, a wave of empathy rising in her chest. Her hand drifted to her brother's pendant, her fingers curling around the familiar metal. She couldn't begin to imagine the kind of upbringing Annie was describing. Her own childhood, while marred by tragedy, had been happy. Loving. Her mother, her brother, they had supported her, even if they hadn't always understood her dreams.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, meaning it. "That must have been hard."

Annie shrugged, the motion tight and controlled. "It was what it was. I survived. Adapted. Learned to be strong, because I had to be."

She glanced at Anja, something raw and conflicted flickering in her blue eyes. "You once said that no price is too high when it comes to protecting the ones we care about..."

Anja frowned, studying her friend softly. "Annie, what are you trying to say?

Annie looked away, her jaw clenching. "I made a promise, Anja. To my father. I swore I'd come back to him, no matter what. And I intend to keep that promise, even if..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Even if it means becoming something I--"

The words caught in her throat, as if she couldn't bring herself to speak them aloud.
"Just... remember me as I am now. Please."

Anja's heart ached at the pain, the conflict, in Annie's voice. She wanted to ask more, to understand, but the closed-off expression on Annie's face stopped her.

Instead, she simply reached out, drawing Annie into a tight hug.

For a moment, Annie stiffened, her entire body going rigid with surprise. But then, slowly, incrementally, Anja felt her relax, her arms coming up to return the embrace.

A soft, shuddering breath escaped Annie's lips, and Anja felt something warm and wet soak into the collar of her shirt. Tears, she realized with a pang. Annie was crying.

But before Anja could say anything, could offer comfort or reassurance, Annie was pulling away, hastily wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, avoiding Anja's gaze. "I don't know what came over me."

"It's okay..." Anja said, her voice gentle, even as confusion and concern warred in her chest.

Annie stood abruptly, brushing off her pants. "We should go back. It's already late."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and headed back towards the camp, her steps quick and purposeful.

Anja watched her go, a sense of helplessness and aching sadness settling over her. She wanted to follow, to demand answers, to offer comfort. But she knew Annie well enough by now to recognize when she needed space.

With a heavy sigh, Anja leaned back against the tree trunk, tilting her head back to look at the stars. The wind had picked up, the leaves rustling and whispering above her .

---

A soft rustling nearby awoke Anja with a jolt, drawing her attention, she glanced over to see Sasha stirring on a neighboring branch, her eyes wide as plates, blinking owlishly in the darkness.



"Anja?" Sasha whispered, her voice thick with sleep and uncharacteristic unease. "Did you hear that?"



Anja frowned, about to ask what she meant, but then she heard it. A soft hiss, like gas escaping a valve, followed by the telltale thunk of anchors biting deep into wood. Anja surged to her feet, blades leaping into her hands.



She didn't have time to speak. All around them, dark shapes came swinging out of the trees like monstrous spiders, their faces obscured by hoods and masks. The dull gleam of rifle barrels and knives in the fading light turned Anja's blood to ice.



"Hands in the air, now!" one of them snarled, the voice distinctly male despite the muffling fabric.



"The hell?!" Thomas yelped, jolting awake, clumsily reaching for his blades, shaking as he brought them up into a guard position.



"Shit, too late," Anja said through numb lips, letting her blades hang loose and useless at her sides as a figure closed in. "They've got us surrounded."



The leader of the group, a burly man with cold eyes glinting under his hood, leveled his rifle at Anja's chest and jerked his head towards the ground.



"Leave the butter knives where I can see 'em and climb down, nice and slow," he growled.



"Your little friend here too." He nodded towards Sasha. "And don't even think about trying anything cute, or I'll ventilate your fucking skulls. We clear?"



Anja swallowed hard, a muscle jumping in her jaw, but then she forced herself to nod, sheathing her blades with trembling hands. Below the others did the same, their eyes wide with panic.



They climbed down to the forest floor, where the rest of the masked figures had them on their knees, rifles trained on their heads. Anja's heart clenched at the fear in her squadmates' faces, the way Mina was shaking like a leaf and Thomas looked about two seconds from losing his meager dinner.



"W-what do you want?" Mina stammered, pressing back against a tree trunk as if trying to melt into the bark.



The leader made a sharp gesture with his rifle. "You deaf, girl? I said hands up and don't move! Same goes for the rest of you before I start putting holes in you!"



Marco, ever the mediator, raised his empty palms in a placating gesture. "Okay, just take it easy," he said, his voice admirably steady despite the tension radiating from every line of his body. "No one needs to get hurt here. We don't want any trouble. We're just trainees. I'm sure we can come to an arrangement if you just let us go now--"



The leader barked out a harsh laugh, smacking Marco across the face with the butt of his gun. Marco's head snapped to the side, blood spraying from his split lip.



"Arrangement? Sure, I'll arrange your fucking funerals if you don't shut up and do as you're told."



He turned to his men, jerking his chin towards the knelt cadets. "Strip 'em of their gear and tie'em up. I don't want these little shits running off to tattle while we haul our asses outta here."



They moved quickly, ripping away ODM gear and binding the cadets' hands behind their backs with rough rope. Anja struggled against her captor, earning herself a sharp blow to the head that made stars explode across her vision. She tasted blood in her mouth, barely noticing it slowly trickling down from her forehead.



"Anja!" Marco cried out, his voice desperate. "Please, we will give you everything! There's no nee--" His plea was cut short as another man silenced him with a harsh backhand.



Anja's eyes flashed with fury, and she renewed her struggle, trying to break free from the leader's grasp. He kicked her in her gut, sending her sprawling to the ground, and pressed his boot against her neck, grinding her face into the dirt. "Easy, bitch" he sneered. "Hah, buyers do pay extra for the feisty ones."

Anja's eyes widened, a cold realization washing over her. These were no simple bandits. They were slavers. A fresh wave of fear gripped her heart, squeezing like a vice.

He reached down, fisting a hand in Anja's hair and wrenching her head back. The cold kiss of a knife pressed against her throat as he pulled her close, his fetid breath hot against her cheek.



"Mmm, you smell good," he murmured, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling deeply. "Maybe I'll keep you for myself."



Anja's body went numb, tears streaming down her cheeks unbidden as she tried to detach herself from the horror of the moment. The slaver's grip on her hair loosened, only to be replaced by his rough hands exploring her body. The repulsive touch sent a fresh wave of nausea crashing over her.

His body was a heavy, suffocating weight against her back. She could feel the edge of the knife, a whisper away from parting flesh, could hear the wet rasp of his breath in her ear.



Anja's heart pounded in her ears, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she fought to stay present, to not let the darkness consume her.



"Please, stop!" Sasha demanded, her voice shaking, threatening to break.



From the corner of her eye, she could see another slaver rounding on Sasha, getting right up in her face. "The fuck did we just say about shutting up? Keep flapping your gums, and we might just cut our losses and leave you for the crows, get me?"



Sasha paled, shrinking back, but she held the man's gaze, defiant even in her terror. He reached out, catching Sasha's chin in a bruising grip. A lecherous grin crept on his face.



"Pretty mouth you've got there..." he murmured, his thumb running along Sasha's lower lip in a grotesque parody of tenderness. The slaver began to paw at her clothes, his intentions hideously clear. It had all become a blur as something in Anja snapped.



The world slowed, narrowed. She was hyperaware of every detail - the frantic thudding of her heart, the rasp of her breath in her lungs, the way the sweat on her palms made her bindings slick. She could hear Mina's muffled sobs, Thomas's desperate, hitching breaths. Marco's eyes darting all over, pleading.



Something savage and furious roared to life in Anja's chest.



The man holding her had grown lax, confident in her helplessness. His rifle lay discarded to the side, and he held the knife loosely, felt his breath down her neck, his attention diverted by his lecherous appraisal of her. Anja felt the bloodlust surge through her veins like wildfire.



In a flash, she wrenched herself around in his hold, ignoring the man's weight as his hands tightened on her. His head pressed on her, and she sunk her teeth into the side of his neck.

Clamping onto the soft flesh, tearing through skin with a savage wrench of her head.

The slaver screamed, the sound choked and gurgling as blood sprayed from the gaping wound in his throat. His hands scrabbled at Anja's face, he flayed around with his knife finding no mark as it loosened and fell. Desperately trying to dislodge her, but she bit down again, clenching her jaw tighter, tearing at the wound like a feral dog.



Hot, blood flooded Anja's mouth, coated her face, her chest. She could feel the man's pulse flutter wildly against her tongue, taste his terror and agony. Her bloodlust sang exultant.



With a final, twisting tear, she ripped her head back, taking a chunk of the slaver's throat with her. He collapsed, hands clasped futilely over the gushing ruin of his neck, eyes wide and glassy with shock.

Anja grasped at the fallen knife with still-bound hands. She stabbed him over and over as he lay there bleeding out. She saw someone closing in from the back of her eyes and turned around.

A shot rang out, she deviated a rifle at the last minute, her ears ringing as she fell on the other slavers like a whirlwind of feral fury, knife flashing in her hand. There was no grace to her movements, no skill or training, only the raw, primal brutality that bordered on the inhuman.

Blood sprayed in crimson arcs, painting the mud, the trees, her skin. It coated her hands to the wrist, sticky and warm, reeking of copper. Flesh parted like rotten fruit beneath her blade, spilling loops of steaming intestine, the ropy coils of veins and arteries. Bones splintered and cracked, shearing through muscle, scraped by the serrated edge of her fury.

The slavers fought back in desperate terror, blades, fists, clubs and rifle butts seeking any opening. Anja took blows that would have felled a lesser warrior - a club to the ribs, a knife scoring deep along her cheek, the crack of a gun butt against her temple. But she barely felt them, lost to the red haze of rage.

With her lips peeled back in a feral snarl as she launched herself at him, teeth bared like a rabid beast.

They crashed to the forest floor in a tangle of limbs, rolling over and over in the dirt. Anja ended up on top, straddling the man's chest. Her hands closed around his throat, squeezing with all her might. He clawed at her wrists, nails scoring deep, but she felt no pain.

"You fucking monsters," she hissed, punctuating each word with a bone-crunching impact.

"I'll kill you, I'll kill all of you."

She slammed his head against the ground, again and again, crashing his skull against the unyielding earth. Then she rained down blow after blow, her knuckles splitting against the hard surfaces of his body and the splintered bones beneath.

The last remaining slaver caught her across the face with a large branch, as if trying to ward off a feral animal, from the pulped remains of his friend.

Anja whirled on him with a snarl, leaping at him with inhuman speed. He screamed in terror as she wrenched his own weapon from his grasp and bashed him to death with it, the heavy wood splintering against his skull.

It seemed to go on forever, a nightmare of blood and viscera and choked

screams... until suddenly, it was over.



Anja stood panting in the center of the clearing, wreathed in gore, hands shaking. At her feet lay the mangled ruin of the slavers, limbs strewn like kindling, torsos split and seeping, heads lolling at unnatural angles. They were barely recognizable as human, as anything other than butchered meat.



And slowly, slowly, Anja began to surface from the red tide of her fury. Became aware of herself again, separate from the blood and viscera, the cooling flesh. The searing, mind-numbing pain in her hands, all over her body, it all came crashing down like a wave, forcing the air from her lungs in a choked gasp. She looked down, to see several of her fingers bent and broken.



She could feel the warm slickness of her own blood mingling with the thick, crusting ropes of gore splattered across her skin. The reek of it filled her nostrils, coated her tongue, and sudden, wrenching nausea doubled her over, dry heaves wracking her stomach.



She looked in terror at that bloodbath of her own creation.



What had she done?



"Anja."



Sasha's voice, soft and shaken, cut through the high-pitched ringing in her ears. Anja flinched, turning to see her friend approaching slowly, hands raised as if gentling a wild animal. Behind her, Anja could make out the ashen, stricken faces of her other squadmates, their eyes wide with horror and revulsion.



No, not revulsion. Fear.



And how could she blame them? That's what she was now, wasn't she? A monster.



"I'm sorry," she croaked, tears welling up to cut warm tracks through the mask of blood and filth coating her face. "I'm so sorry, I don't... I don't know what happened, I couldn't... I couldn't stop, I-"



Her legs buckled, pitching her to her knees in the churned-up mud and gore. Great, wracking sobs tore from her chest. She curled in on herself, disgusted, smearing gore, babbling broken apologies to the uncaring forest floor.



She was distantly aware of Sasha approaching, movements slow and cautious, like one would a wild beast. Warm arms encircled her shaking shoulders, pulling her close. Anja recoiled at the contact, but Sasha only held tighter, uncaring of the blood and viscera smearing her clothes, her skin.



"Shhh," the other girl murmured, rocking her gently. "Shhh, it's okay. It's over. You saved us, Anja. You saved us."



But Anja could only shake her head, keening into Sasha's shoulder like a wounded animal. "No, no, it's not okay. I didn't... I didn't save anyone, I just... I lost control, I wanted to... Sasha, what's wrong with me?"

Anja clung to Sasha. Her sobs gradually subsiding into raspy breaths. But even as the immediate shock began to fade, a new kind of horror was taking root in her mind.

She had always known she was capable of violence, had always been ready to fight and kill to protect those she loved. But this... this was something else entirely. The savagery, the sheer, visceral pleasure she had taken in the slaughter... it terrified her.

Distantly, she was aware of movement around the clearing. Marco, Thomas, Mina, salvaging what they could with shaking hands. Furtive, fearful glances in her direction, quickly averted. She couldn't bear to meet their eyes, to see her own depravity reflected back.

Sasha held her silently, speechless. There were no words of comfort, no reassurances that could make this right.

Anja squeezed her eyes shut, bile rising in her throat. Broken and lost, as the weight of what she'd done settled over her like a shroud. Something inside her had broken, some fundamental piece of her humanity.

The silence in the clearing was heavy, broken only by distant bird calls and rustling leaves. It felt wrong that the world could continue as if nothing had changed. As if Anja hadn't just crossed an irreversible line.

She could feel the weight of her squad's stares, the unspoken fear and revulsion hanging in the air. They would never look at her the same way again.

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter VII: Acceptance

---

It had been a week since that day, her body still ached like hell, but it wasn't the physical wounds that hurt her the most, the biggest pain she faced was in her own mind, she couldn't bear to look at her friends in the eye as they dragged her battered self all the way back to camp.

Anja had been sent to the infirmary straight away, and she just lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling as the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room. Still haunted daily, by the memories, of what she had unleashed, of that thing she kept chained within her, how it painted the woods red with the blood of those slavers.

Shadis had been sensible enough not to ask her any questions about what happened. But the weight of her actions hung heavy on Anja's shoulders, an inescapable shroud of guilt and self-loathing that threatened to suffocate her.

She flexed her bandaged hands, wincing at the dull ache that radiated up her arms. The physical pain was nothing compared to the turmoil raging in her mind.

The savage glee she had taken in the slaughter, the twisted smile that had stretched her blood-flecked lips as she tore into the men like a rabid animal...

That was something else entirely. Something dark and primal, terrifying in its intensity. A part of her so depraved and unnatural she had fought countless times to push away. How could she reconcile that with the person she thought she was? The person she wanted to be?

Anja squeezed her eyes shut, a shuddering breath escaping her lungs. In the darkness behind her eyelids, memories played out in vivid, merciless detail.

No, not just of the forest, but of other moments throughout her life when that thing inside of her had reared its ugly head - moments she had always tried to forget, to put behind her.

One memory in particular stood out, sharp and painful. It was six years ago…

---

The sun was warm on her face as she sat cross-legged on the floor of her mother's shop, the soft whisper of fabric and the steady rhythm of the spinning wheel a familiar backdrop to her thoughts.

"Anja, sweetie, pay attention," her mother chided gently, guiding Anja's small hands back to the shirt she was meant to be mending. "You'll never learn if you don't focus."
Anja sighed, the fabric heavy and unwieldy between her fingers. "I don't want to learn," she mumbled, keeping her eyes fixed on her clumsy stitches. "I want to go play with my friends."

Her mother's hands stilled, a flicker of sadness passing over her face. "I know you do, sweetie. But this is important too. Someday, this shop will be yours. Don't you want to be able to provide for yourself, for your own family?"

Anja fidgeted, the needle nearly slipping from her grasp. "I guess," she said, but her heart wasn't in it. In truth, she couldn't imagine spending her days cooped up in this stuffy shop, stitching and mending until her fingers bled.

She wanted to be like her big brother, brave and strong. Heinrik had left to join the Cadet Corps a few months ago, and his absence was a constant ache in her chest, a hollow space where his laughter and warmth used to be.

"I miss him too, you know," her mother said, her expression softening into something sad and knowing as she reached out to smooth Anja's hair back from her face.
"But he's following his heart, just like you will someday. I just want you to have options, Anja... There's more to life than fighting."

Anja leaned into her mother's touch. "I just want to help, to protect Heinrik, like he always does for us," she whispered, the words small and fragile in the hush of the shop.

Emma sighed, pressing a kiss to the crown of Anja's head. "I know you do, sweetie. And I won't stand in your way, if that's truly the path you choose. But you have time yet to decide." She pulled back, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "For now, let's just focus on getting this mending done, hmm? Then you can go play with your friends."

Anja nodded, bending her head back to her task with renewed determination. Maybe her mother was right, maybe she had other options... But deep down, in a place she barely understood, Anja knew that there was a part of her that would never comprehend, that would never consider a quiet life. Besides, what would her brother think of her? That she was a coward? She wanted to show him she could be strong too.

She shoved the thought away, focusing on the steady in-and-out of the needle, the soft rasp of thread through fabric.

As she mended the last tear, she stretched out the fabric, smiling proudly at her work.

"I'm done, Mom. Can I go play now?" Anja asked, setting down the shirt she'd been clumsily stitching.

Emma looked up from her work, her careworn face softening with a smile. "Of course, sweetie. Just be back in time for dinner, alright?"

Anja nodded eagerly, already halfway out the door. "I will! Love you, Mom!"

Finally released from her duties, she burst out of the shop and into the busy streets of Shiganshina, the sun already high in the sky. The air was filled with the scent of baking bread and the chatter of the market square, hawkers crying their wares as housewives haggled over prices.

She wove through the crowds with ease, dodging carts and horses as she made her way towards the canal where she knew her friends would be playing. She passed by the little shop where her mother always sent her to buy thread and fabric, the kindly old owner waving at her through the window.

It didn't take long to find her friends, Jana and Ilse, as expected, they were sitting by the edge of the canal, engrossed in a game of marbles. The two were sisters, a year or two older than Anja. Heinrik had introduced them to her, and the three of them had been friends ever since.

Anja! Over here!" Jana called, waving her over.

Anja plopped down beside them, crossing her legs and leaning forward to examine the game. A dozen or so marbles of different colors and sizes were spread out, chalk circles drawn around a pocket of big marbles.

"Who's winning?"

"I am," Ilse said smugly, flicking a cat's eye shooter with a practiced hand. It clattered against a cobalt swirly, sending the bigger marble spinning out of the chalk ring. Ilse scooped it up with a grin, holding it aloft. "Look at this beauty. Won it off Dieter fair and square."

"Wow," Anja breathed, reaching out to touch the marble's glossy surface. "He must've been mad."

Jana giggled, tucking a wayward strand of dirty-blond hair behind her ear. "He sure was! Didn't stop whining the whole rest of the game. If it wasn't for Heinrik, he would have taken it back." She turned to Anja with bright eyes. "Oh! Where's Heinrik? Is he coming to play with us too?"

Anja's smile faded, a now-familiar pang of loneliness twisting in her gut. "No. He's gone to join the cadets... He won't be back for a while."

"Oh, Heinrik," Jana sighed dreamily, clasping her hands to her chest. "He's so brave and handsome."

Ilse rolled her eyes, fond exasperation flickering over her features, her brown eyes steady and sharp. "You're being weird again, Jana." To Anja, she said, "I bet you miss him a lot, huh?"

Anja nodded, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. "Yeah. But he promised he'd write, and that he'd visit as soon as he could."

She straightened up, injecting a note of fierce pride into her voice. "He's going to be a hero, I know it. Maybe he'll even go outside the walls."

Jana nodded vigorously, her eyes shining with excitement. "Just like in the stories! Oh, wouldn't that be amazing, Ilse?"

"It would be best if he didn't. It's dangerous out there, nothing more than titans-" Before Ilse could finish her sentence, a shadow fell over them, a familiar sneering voice cutting through the air.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Ilse and her baby sister."

The boy's gaze shifted to Anja, and he feigned surprise. "Oh look, and the pathetic little runt of the Wolf litter. Where's your stupid brother, huh?" He smirked at Anja, towering over her.

Anja's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing as she took in the three older boys looming over them. She recognized the ringleader, Dieter, with his black hair and cold blue eyes. He was flanked by his usual cronies, Stefan and Peter, their faces twisted into identical leers.

"Off to get himself killed as a cadet already? What a shame. He'll make a fine Titan snack." Dieter's cronies snickered beside him.

"What do you want, Dieter?" Ilse asked coldly, her hand tightening around the pouch of marbles at her waist.

Dieter's eyes flicked to the movement, his smirk widening. "Looks like you've got something of mine there."

Ilse scowled, shifting the bag of marbles out of his reach. "I already beat you for it, Dieter. You want it that badly, win it back."

Dieter's smile turned ugly, a flash of something cruel in his eyes. "Seems to me, without your guard dog around, I can take whatever I want." His gaze cut to Anja, a sneer pulling at his lips. "Big brother's not here to save you now, huh?"

Anja bristled, something hot and furious rising up to choke her as she pushed to her feet. "Leave her alone, Dieter. I'm warning you." Her voice shook, her small hands curling into fists at her sides.

Dieter barked out a laugh, ugly and mocking. "Oh, you're warning me? That's cute, pipsqueak." He took a step forward, looming over her. Anja barely reached his chest. "What're you gonna do, cry at me?"

She just looked impotently as the boy effortlessly pushed past her, shoving her away like she wasn't there at all.

Everything happened very quickly then. Dieter reaching for Ilse's pouch of marbles, her friend twisting away with a yelp. In the scuffle, she lost her balance and fell, skinning her knee on the rough cobblestones. A hand firmly gripped Anja. Then suddenly she was falling backwards too, her arms wheeling as she tried to catch herself.

Anja hit the ground hard, her head snapping back against the rough cobblestones. Pain exploded behind her eyes, sparks dancing across her vision. Through the ringing in her ears, she could dimly hear Ilse's pained cry, could see the bright smear of blood on her skinned knee.

A red haze descended over her vision, her heartbeat pounding in her ears like war drums.

She surged to her feet with a snarl, something hot and vicious flooding her veins. Dieter was the first thing in sight. She lunged at him, a scream of pure fury tearing from her throat as she bowled him over, small fists slamming into any part of him she could reach.

Surprise was on her side, and the strapping older boy stumbled back under the sudden onslaught.

Dieter yelped, trying to throw her off, but Anja clung on like a leech, pummeling him with a strength she didn't know she possessed. He tried desperately to fight back, but Anja barely felt the blows, lost to the siren song of violence singing in her veins.

She kept hitting relentlessly, heedless of the pain.

Dimly, as if from far away, she could hear Jana and Ilse yelling her name, their voices high and frightened. But she didn't care, couldn't care. She was lost to the siren song of violence singing in her blood.

Dieter's friends tried to drag Anja off, kicking and punching, but she barely registered them at all, her bloodshot eyes focused solely on Dieter, his face now covered in red.

She didn't stop until one of them landed a lucky blow, catching her in the temple and sending her flying. Anja fell off Dieter, rolling to a stop near the edge of the canal.

The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, but she was already scrabbling to her feet to launch herself at him again, the two other boys blocking her path, their eyes wide with fear.

But then there were hands on her shoulders, dragging her back. Adult hands, strong and unyielding.

She thrashed and kicked, still lost to the haze of bloodlust, but the grip held firm.

"Enough!" a sharp voice snapped, cutting through the red mist. "What the hell is going on here?"

Anja blinked, the world coming back into focus as the haze slowly drained away, leaving her cold and shaking in its wake.

It felt like she had just awoken from one of her nightmares, the details fuzzy, thoughts and memories all jumbled up, already drifting away. But there was an overwhelming feeling of wrongness. It hadn't been a dream. There was a fleeting warmth on her hands, blood dripping, painting the ground red.

Her glazed eyes shifted forward. Dieter's friends were shaking where they stood, their furtive gazes darting around. Behind them, Dieter laid on the cobblestones, blood splattered all over, his chest heaving slowly, erratically. A soldier knelt by his side.

Anja looked up to see two members of the Garrison glaring down at her, their faces twisted in a mix of disapproval and shock.

"We didn't do anything! She attacked our friend!" Stefan babbled, pointing a trembling finger at Anja. "She's crazy!"

A tall blond haired soldier tightened his grip on Anja's arm. "That true, kid?" His breath reeking of ale.

Anja swallowed hard, sudden fear clawing at her throat. She glanced desperately at the crowd that had formed, her eyes pleading as they landed on Jana and Ilse, but they wouldn't meet her gaze, their faces pale and frightened as they huddled together.

"I'll take it from here," a gruff voice cut in. An older soldier with graying black hair and a grizzled beard stepped forward, his pale amber eyes fixing on Anja with an unreadable expression.

The soldier didn't utter a word to her all the way back, but he kept looking back at her, a sort of recognition hidden beneath, before she knew it, Anja found herself back home, her mother's worried face swimming into view as the soldier pushed her through the door.

"Albert? What happened?" Her mother cried, rushing forward to gather Anja in her arms.

The soldier relinquished his hold, his expression stern. "Your daughter attacked a boy, Emma."

Emma gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "No, that can't be. Anja would never-"

"I saw it, what she did to him," the soldier said flatly. "First your boy, now her? Are you going to get your children under control, or do I have to do it for you?"

Emma flinched as if struck, her blue eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again, I swear it."

"It better not. I only brought her here because of Heinrik, but this is the last time, you hear me?" With a final, warning glare at Anja, he turned on his heel and left, slamming the door behind him.

Her mother rounded on her, Emma's face a mask of shock and disappointment. "Anja, is this true?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Did you really hurt that boy?"

Anja looked away, shock still coursing through her veins. She tried to process everything, a small voice in the back of her mind insisting that she had been justified, a part of her had even enjoyed what she did. But then a sickening shame flooded in to take its place.

"He hurt Ilse," she mumbled, scuffing her toe in the dirt. "I... had to stop him."

Her mother closed her eyes, grief etching deep lines into her face. "Go to your room, Anja. We'll discuss this later."

Anja obeyed, slinking up the stairs with her tail between her legs. She couldn't comprehend then why her mother cried; she had only had done what Heinrik would have. And now she called Anja to help in the shop only at night. She stayed in her room as the days passed, listening to the whispers of customers floating up from below.

"Did you hear? The seamstress' daughter, attacking that poor boy..."

"Always knew there was something wrong with that one. The mother tries, but with the father gone, what can you expect?"

"They say the brother was a troublemaker too. Guess it runs in the family."​

Anja squeezed her eyes shut, hot tears leaking from beneath her lids to track down her cheeks. She hadn't meant to hurt Dieter, not really. She was just trying to protect her friends, like Heinrik did, she had just wanted to make him stop, to wipe that cruel smirk off his face and make him leave Ilse alone.

But now, hearing the judgment and scorn in the voices below, she wondered if maybe they were right. Maybe there was something wrong with her, some dark seed of violence and anger that had always lurked within.

The next few weeks passed in a blur of whispers and sidelong glances. Her mother kept Anja close, refusing to let her out of the house even to run simple errands. Anja took to sitting by her bedroom window, watching the world go by without her, aching for a glimpse of Jana and Ilse's familiar faces. She hoped that they would come looking for her, but they never did. Anja couldn't stand to see the worry in her mother's eyes, the way her gaze would drift to the empty chair at the dinner table where Heinrik used to sit.

One day, unable to bear it any longer, Anja waited for her mother to be distracted and snuck out of the house. She had a half-formed notion to find Dieter, to somehow make amends for what she'd done. Maybe then things could go back to the way they were before.

It didn't take long for her to locate Dieter's home. She found him sitting out front in a chair, his face a mottled patchwork of bruises and cuts.

But it was his eyes that made Anja's blood run cold – they had lost their blueish glint. Now they were flat and glassy, staring off at nothing as drool trickled from the slack corner of his mouth.

"Dieter?" Anja whispered, taking a hesitant step forward. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you…"

Dieter's head lolled towards her, his gaze sharpening with sudden, agonizing clarity. Raw, animal terror twisted his deformed features, a low, keening moan pushing past his lips as he cringed away from her.

"Muh...muh..." he slurred, the words mangled and barely coherent. "Mon...ster..."

And then his mother was there, shoving Anja away with a shriek of rage. "You!" she spat, her face twisted with grief and loathing. "You stay away from my boy, you little beast! Haven't you done enough?"

Anja stumbled back, tears welling up to blur her vision. "I'm sorry," she choked out. "I never meant to-"

"Meant to what? Cripple him?" Dieter's mother cut her off, something wild and anguished contorting her features. "Look at what you did to my boy! You're a menace, just like your no-good father and that brother of yours."

She advanced on Anja, her eyes fevered and bright. "Get out of here, savage! Go back to the forest you crawled out of and leave decent folk alone!"

Anja turned and ran, sobs hitching in her throat as the woman's words chased her down the street. Savage, they echoed in her head, over and over until it was all she could hear. Beast. Monster.

Her feet carried her through the winding streets, past the shop and the marketplace until she reached the little footbridge by the canal. The quiet spot where she, Heinrik, Jana, and Ilse had whiled away so many long summer afternoons.

But when she got there, stuttering to a halt with her chest heaving and her face tracked with tears, she found she wasn't alone.

Jana and Ilse were there, huddled close together in the fading afternoon light. They scrambled to their feet as Anja approached, their faces pale and pinched with fear.

"I... Where have you been? I..." Anja asked, still crying as she moved closer, then stopped as she looked at her friends.

Ilse took a step back, something like revulsion twisting her features. "Stay back," she whispered, tugging Jana behind her. "Our mother says you're dangerous. That you might attack us too."

Anja flinched as if slapped, a low, wounded noise catching in her throat. "I would never... I was only trying to protect you... you're my friends," she choked out, hugging herself as if to hold in the pieces of her breaking heart. "Please, I...I need you."

Ilse just shook her head, Jana hiding behind her, tears glimmering in her own eyes. "I'm sorry... But we can't...we're not..." She trailed off, her throat working as she swallowed hard. "You're different now. Wrong. Everyone says so."

And with that, they turned and fled, their footsteps echoing like gunshots in the heavy silence. Anja stared after them, something cold and jagged lodging in her chest, a shard of ice that burned and ached with every hitching breath.

---

Anja was jolted back to the present as the memories dissipated, leaving her to grapple with the weight and fear of history repeating itself.. Would she be left alone and friendless, shunned by everyone? Branded a monster?

Despite her best efforts, that 'monster' within her was always simmering just below the surface, waiting for its chance to break free.

But even as the fear and self-doubt threatened to consume her, a small, persistent voice in the back of her mind whispered that things were different now. She had friends, real friends, who had seen her at her worst and still stood at her side.

"Armin…" she whispered to herself, he was there when she had been at her lowest, abandoned and alone, her thoughts wandered back to the day she met him.

---

She had run as far as she could, leaving the judging eyes and whispered recriminations of the town behind. She ran until she saw no one around, finding a lone oak tree by the river.
Slowly, numbly, she sank to the ground, her back pressed against the rough bark of the old oak tree. She drew her knees up against her chest, hugging them close as great, shuddering sobs began to shake her thin frame.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, lost in the aching wasteland of her grief and shame. The sun had sunk below the horizon and the first stars were winking to life in the velvet sky by the time a soft, hesitant voice broke through the haze of her misery.

"Um... excuse me? Are you alright?"

Anja's head snapped up, her tear-swollen eyes widening as she took in the boy standing awkwardly before her. He was small and slight, with a shock of blond hair falling into wide, earnest blue eyes. He had a book clutched to his chest like a shield, his grip white-knuckled and anxious.

She couldn't meet his eyes, waiting for the inevitable looks of fear or disgust. But they never came. Instead, the boy shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, clearly torn between politeness and the urge to flee.

"I can go, if you want to be alone," he said at last, his voice hesitant.

Anja sniffed, turning her face away to hide the evidence of her tears. "It's okay," she mumbled. "I was just... I'll go."

She made to stand, but the boy took a step forward, something hesitant and curious in his expression. "You don't have to," he said quietly. "I mean, if you want to be alone, I understand. But... you look like you could use a friend."

Anja stared at him, surprised by the genuine concern in his voice. "I... I don't really have any friends," she admitted, the words catching in her throat. "Not anymore."

The boy's eyes softened, and he slowly lowered himself to sit beside her, leaving a careful distance between them. "I'm Armin," he said, offering a small, tentative smile. "What's your name?"

"Anja," she replied, her voice hoarse from crying.

Armin nodded, his gaze drifting to the book in his hands. He ran his fingers over the worn cover, something wistful and longing in his expression.

Despite herself, Anja felt a flicker of curiosity. "What are you reading?"

Armin blinked, glancing up at her with a hint of surprise. His fingers tightened on the cover, a flicker of something guarded and defensive crossing his face.

But then he seemed to register the genuine interest in her eyes, the complete lack of judgment, and some of the tension eased from his shoulders.

"Oh... It's about," he said slowly, as if testing the waters, "the world beyond the walls."

Anja's eyes widened, leaning forward slightly. "Beyond the walls?" she echoed. "I didn't know there were any books about that."

Armin shrugged, a hint of a flush rising in his cheeks. "There aren't many," he admitted. "And most people think they're just stories. Fairy tales."

He glanced up at her, something vulnerable and hopeful in his eyes. "But I don't think they are. I think there's so much more out there, waiting to be discovered. Just imagine... mountains taller than the walls, deserts that go on forever, and a place where there's water, as far as the eye can see..."

His voice took on a dreamy, faraway quality, his eyes shining with a fevered sort of intensity. Anja found herself leaning closer, caught up in his enthusiasm.
"It sounds amazing," she said softly. "I wish I could see it."

Armin blinked, seeming to come back to himself. He ducked his head, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"I could... I could read some of it to you, if you want," he offered hesitantly. "I mean, it might help take your mind off of... whatever's bothering you."

Anja felt a lump rise in her throat, sudden tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. It had been so long since someone had shown her such simple, unprompted kindness.
"I'd like that," she whispered, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

Armin's smile widened, and he scooted closer, holding the book out so she could see the faded illustrations on the pages.

"I don't mind at all," he said. And then he began to read, his soft, lilting voice painting vivid pictures of lands and wonders Anja had never dared to imagine.

As she listened, letting the gentle cadence of Armin's words wash over her, Anja felt something ease in her chest. The anger and sadness and crushing self-loathing were still there, simmering just below the surface.

---

The memory released Anja like a sigh, depositing her back into the stark white confines of the infirmary. Even as the details began to fade, the warmth of that long-ago moment of connection lingered, a small, steady light in the darkness of her thoughts.

Armin had been the first, she realized, to look at her and see not a monster, but a lost person, in need of a friend. He had been the first to offer her a glimpse of a world beyond the confines of her own pain and self-doubt.

But it wasn't the same, was it? What she had done now was much worse. She had killed for the first time. Was there something wrong with her, that she felt no regret in the back of her mind? A sickening pleasure at her actions?

It wasn't until Eren came to see her, about two weeks into her convalescence, that something finally seemed to shift.

"Hey, Anja," he greeted, ducking into the small, sun-dappled room that had become her whole world. "Figured you'd still be here, so I brought you some extra food. Heard the infirmary slop leaves a lot to be desired."

Anja managed a wan smile, pushing herself upright on the narrow cot. "Thanks, Eren. You're not wrong there."

Eren settled himself on the edge of the bed, his intense green eyes scanning her face. "How're those fingers healing up? Think you'll be rejoining us for training anytime soon?"

Anja glanced down at her bandaged hands, flexing them experimentally. "Nurses say it'll be a month and a half at least before I'm fully healed. But..." She hesitated. "They also said I seem to be recovering faster than expected. So maybe sooner."

"That's great news!" Eren said, his face splitting into a grin.

"We've missed having you around, you know. Just the other day, I laid Jean out flat during hand-to-hand practice. You should've seen the look on his stupid horse face. I swear, I thought he was gonna cry."

Anja huffed a laugh, but it sounded hollow even to her own ears. "Sorry I missed it."

Eren sobered, his expression turning serious. "Listen, Anja... I talked to the others. About what happened out there in the woods."

Anja stiffened, her heart suddenly pounding against her ribs. "Eren, don't-"

"I know what you're going through," he pushed on, undeterred. "Having blood on your hands. I've been there."

Anja blinked at him, thrown off balance. "What?"

Eren sighed, running a hand through his perpetually disheveled hair. "It was years ago, before Wall Maria fell. I had recently met Mikasa, actually." His eyes took on a distant cast, as if seeing something far away. "My father had taken me with him. We were just checking on them. We found her parents murdered. The killers were still near."

Anja's breath caught in her throat. She'd known Mikasa was adopted, that she and Eren had a bond that ran soul-deep, but this...

"They were traffickers, slavers," Eren continued, his voice hard.

"Animals." He remarked with scorn in his voice. "The kind of scum that doesn't deserve to draw breath. And when I found them, I knew what had to be done... I killed them, Anja. In cold blood. Without a shred of remorse."

He looked up at her then, his gaze searing in its intensity. "I know the weight of that choice. The way it sits in your gut like lead. But I also know that it was necessary. That the world is better off without men like that in it."

Anja swallowed hard, her eyes stinging. "But... how do you live with it? The knowledge of what you're capable of?"

Eren reached out, gripping her unbandaged hand tight. "By recognizing it for what it is. Not murder, but justice. Those bastards in the woods... they got exactly what they deserved. And because of what you did, our friends are safe. Alive and whole, instead of sold off to a fate worse than death. Some may not see it that way yet, but they will."

He squeezed her fingers, his calluses rough against her skin. "You saved them, Anja. Saved yourself. And yeah, maybe you had to get your hands dirty to do it. But that's the world we live in. It's ugly and it's brutal and it's not fair. But we do whatever we have to, to protect the ones we love. No matter what, there's nothing wrong with that."

Anja closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her like a balm. Eren's words echoing in her mind. They resonated with a conviction she had long held close to her heart, a belief that had driven her forward even in her darkest moments.

As long as there are people left we care about, people we want to protect, no price is too high.

Hearing it from Eren now, in the wake of the horror she had endured, felt like a validation. A reminder that her actions, as brutal and violent as they may have been, were rooted in something pure. Something good.

She had been willing to sacrifice everything, even her own humanity, to keep them from harm.

"I... thank you, Eren," she managed at last, her voice hoarse with unshed tears. "For understanding. For not judging me."

"I'd never judge you for that," Eren said fiercely. "Besides, we always look out for each other, no matter what. Don't forget that."

He stayed with her awhile longer, filling her in on the goings-on of the camp and sharing lighthearted stories of their friends' antics. By the time he left, Anja felt lighter than she had in weeks, the burden on her soul not gone, but perhaps the slightest bit easier to bear.

The next week passed in a haze of healing and tentative self-forgiveness. Anja did her best to recover, pushing her body trying to regain the movement in her numbed fingers and marveling at the speed with which her wounds seemed to mend
.
The doctors were baffled, muttering about lucky breaks and strong constitutions, but Anja paid them no mind. All that mattered was getting back on her feet, back to her training, back to her friends.

It wasn't long before Anja was finally released from the infirmary. That day was a joyous one. She stepped out into the bright sunshine of the training yard to find her friends gathered in a loose semi-circle, their faces splitting into wide grins at the sight of her.

Eren was the first to reach her, pulling her into a hug that lifted her feet clear off the ground.

Mikasa was next, her embrace rib-cracking but no less heartfelt.

"Easy there, don't wanna go back in!" Anja joked, patting Mikasa's back.

Armin followed close behind, his eyes shining as he wrapped his arms around Anja.

"Welcome back, Anja," Marco said warmly, clapping her on the shoulder. "It's good to have you with us again." His eyes darted away as soon as she looked back, a hint of unease in his gaze.

"Yeah, training just hasn't been the same without our fighter!" Connie crowed, dropping into an exaggerated fighting stance.

"I swear, half the instructors almost seem disappointed you're back. Think they were hoping you'd up and dis-"

He yelped as Sasha elbowed him sharply in the ribs, her expression horrified. "Connie! Shut up!"

But Anja just laughed, the sound rusty from disuse. "Nah, he's not wrong. I'm sure I gave the brass quite the headache."

"Well, I for one am glad you're alright," Thomas said, his usually jovial face serious. "You had us all pretty worried for a while there, Anja."

"We were afraid you might not come back," Mina added softly, her voice trembling slightly. She took a small step back as Anja turned to her, fear flickering in her large blue eyes.
Anja tried to ignore the pang of hurt at Mina's reaction, forcing a smile onto her face. "What? And let you guys have all the glory when retaking Shiganshina? I don't think so."

Christa stepped forward, reaching out to give Anja's hand a gentle squeeze. "We're just happy to have you back with us, safe and sound."

Beside her, Ymir's eyes narrowed, a flicker of jealousy crossing her sharp features. She shifted closer to Christa, not quite touching but making her presence known.
"Yeah, well, just don't go making a habit of scaring us like that, Wolf," the tall brunette said gruffly. "Place was getting way too boring without you around to liven things up with your daily asskickings from Leonhart. Most entertainment I've had since Sasha's potato stunt on day one."

Sasha squawked indignantly, but Anja just grinned

Ymir paused, a sly grin tugging at her lips. "Though I will say, I've been sleeping a lot better without your nighttime mutterings. Oh well, you win some you lose some."
Anja just shook her head, glancing around. To her surprise, there was Annie, hanging back from the others with her typical air of cool detachment. But when their eyes met, the blonde gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod, the ghost of a smile playing at her lips.

Anja felt her heart swell with a sudden rush of affection and gratitude for this ragtag bunch of misfits and outcasts who had become her family.
Her home. Come hell or high water, she would do anything to keep them safe.

"Look who's finally come out! Glad you're back, Anja," Reiner said with a warm smile as he approached the group, his booming voice cutting through the chatter. He gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder, his large hand nearly engulfing her entire upper arm.

Anja grinned back at him, nodding in appreciation. "Thanks, Reiner. It's good to be back."

Bertholdt trailed behind Reiner like a tall, anxious shadow, his expression a mix of relief and trepidation. He offered Anja a small, shy smile, ducking his head in greeting.
"Alright, enough standing around!" Reiner declared, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention. "Time to see if Anja's still got what it takes to keep up with the rest of us." He turned to her, a playful grin spreading across his face as he cracked his knuckles. "What do you say, Wolf? Ready to get back in fighting shape?"

Anja grinned, cracking her knuckles with relish. "Hell yeah. I've been dying for some action. You chumps better watch out, because I'm gonna kick all your asses from here to Wall Maria."

A chorus of good-natured jeers and challenges rose up at her words, and before long, the cadets had dispersed to the training field, falling into the familiar rhythms of drills and sparring matches.

As Anja squared off against Reiner, trading playful jabs and testing out her newly healed limbs, she couldn't help but marvel at how far they'd come and the road they still had to traverse before finally being ready.

There would be more challenges ahead, she knew. More pain and loss and hard choices. But in that moment, surrounded by the laughter and camaraderie of her friends, Anja felt invincible. Unbreakable.

The day wore on, the cadets moving from hand-to-hand drills to ODM practice. The sun hung low in the sky, painting the training field in shades of orange and gold as the exhausted recruits began to trickle back towards the barracks for dinner.

Anja lingered, her muscles aching with a satisfying sort of burn as she unstrapped her gear. A month of bedrest had taken its toll, but she was pleased with how quickly her body seemed to be bouncing back, muscle memory taking over where stamina failed.

"Not bad!" Eren called out, jogging over to her with a grin. He began to unfasten his own gear, his forehead shining with sweat. "Didn't think you'd be able to pick up so fast. Were you training back there in the infirmary?"

Anja snorted, rolling her shoulders to ease the tension. "Nope. But I know this is going to hurt like hell tomorrow."

Eren laughed, clapping her on the back. "Ah, I'm sure you'll be able to handle it. Come on, let's go grab a bite."


"Anja."


They both turned at the sound of the familiar monotone. Annie stood a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest, her expression unreadable.
"Could we have a word?" the blonde asked.

Anja glanced at Eren, a question in her eyes. He just shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Go on ahead," he said, jerking his chin towards Annie. "I'll save you a seat at dinner."

Anja nodded, returning his smile with a grateful one of her own. "Thanks, Eren. I'll catch up with you in a bit."
She watched him go, his form quickly swallowed up by the lengthening shadows. Then, with a deep breath, she turned to face Annie, trying to quell the sudden flutter of nerves in her stomach.

Annie tilted her head towards a quieter corner of the training field, away from prying eyes and ears. Anja followed, her curiosity piqued by the unusual request.

"What's up?" she asked, aiming for casual and falling somewhat short. There was something about the intensity of Annie's gaze, the set of her shoulders, that made Anja feel like this was more than just a simple chat between friends.

Annie uncrossed her arms, shoving her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. She seemed to be struggling with herself, her jaw working as if chewing on words that wouldn't quite come.

"I wanted to apologize," she said at last, her voice flat and expressionless. "For not coming to see you. In the infirmary."

Anja blinked, taken aback by the admission. "Oh. That's... you don't have to apologize, Annie. I know you must have been busy with training and everything."

Annie shook her head, a sharp, negating motion. "No. That's not..." She huffed out a breath, frustration flickering across her usually stoic features. "I should have been there. Should have at least checked in on you. But I... I didn't. And I'm sorry."

"I heard what happened and I should have been there…"

Anja shifted uncomfortably, a sudden tightness gripping her chest. She could only imagine what people were saying about her. The thought of Annie, of all people, seeing her as some kind of monster...

"Annie, I..." she started, then trailed off. What could she say?

But Annie cut her off with a sharp gesture. "I'm not here to judge you," she said, her voice clipped and matter-of-fact. "I just wanted to say... I understand."

Anja blinked, taken aback by the words. "You do?"

Annie shrugged, her gaze sliding away to focus on some point over Anja's shoulder. "I could see it in your face, you're afraid at how others see you, but…" Annie paused.
"We all have our demons," she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "Our darkness. The parts of ourselves we're afraid to face."

She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for what she was about to say. "What you did out there... it doesn't define you."

Anja swallowed hard, sudden tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. "How can you be so sure?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Annie's eyes flashed to hers, something fierce and unwavering in their icy blue depths. "Because I know you," she said, quiet but intense. "I know the kind of person you are…"

Annie was silent for a long moment, her gaze boring into Anja like a physical weight. "You're not a monster," she said quietly, her voice low and intense, a slight crack in her usual monotone. "You're a survivor. There's a difference."

Anja stared at her, hardly daring to believe the words. Beneath them was a wealth of unspoken pain, a glimpse of some deep, unhealed wound that made Anja's breath catch in her throat.

"I..." she started, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Thank you, Annie. That... that means a lot."

Annie glanced away, clearly discomforted by the emotional turn the conversation had taken. "Yeah, well," she muttered, scuffing the toe of her boot against the ground. "Don't let it go to your head."

But there was a softness to her voice, a hint of warmth that belied her gruff words. In that moment, Anja felt a rush of gratitude and affection for this prickly, guarded girl who had somehow become one of her closest confidants.

Impulsively, she closed the distance between them and pulled Annie into a hug.

Annie stiffened in her arms, her whole body going rigid with surprise and discomfort. For a long, awkward moment, she just stood there, unresponsive, her arms hanging stiffly at her sides.

But then, slowly, incrementally, Anja felt her relax. It wasn't much, just the barest loosening of her tightly coiled muscles, but it was something. A tiny, almost imperceptible yielding.
"I mean it," Anja said, putting as much sincerity into her voice as she could muster. "Thank you, Annie. For... for believing in me."

Annie said nothing, but her hand came up to rest lightly on Anja's back, a tentative, barely-there pressure that spoke volumes in its own way.

After a moment, Annie awkwardly extricated herself from the embrace, taking a step back to reestablish some distance between them.

"Don't mention it," she said, her voice gruff but not unkind. "Just... Don't go getting all sappy on me, Anja. I just wanted to make sure you weren't going to keel over and die on my watch."

She glanced back up at Anja, there was softness in her gaze.

"I'll do my best," she said, a small, crooked smile tugging at her lips. "Besides, I still have to prove I can beat you in a fair fight. I'm not giving up on that just yet."

Annie snorted, a huff of laughter that was gone as quickly as it came. "You wish. You still have a long way to go before that." The barest hint of a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "Someone's got to keep you humble."

Anja grinned, "Lucky me." she said, only half-joking.

They stood there for a moment longer, the silence between them easy and companionable. Then Annie shifted, tilting her head towards the mess hall.

"We should head in," she said, her voice once again coolly neutral. "I'm sure Braus will leave us with nothing but crumbs if we don't hurry."

Anja laughed, falling into step beside her as they began to make their way across the training field. "Somehow, I doubt even Sasha could manage to eat an entire dinner service's worth of food," she said, shaking her head. "But better safe than sorry, I guess."

As they walked, their shoulders brushing with each step, Anja couldn't help but marvel at the strange, tenuous bond that had grown between them. It wasn't the easiest of friendships - Annie was prickly at the best of times, closed-off and distant even on her most outgoing days. But there was an understanding there, a recognition that went beyond words.

Whatever doubts Anja had now dissipated, she knew she could count on her friends, count on Annie. They were the strength she needed to keep moving forward, to keep pushing through the darkness towards the light. It was a fragile hope, as delicate as a candle flame in a tempest. But it was there, flickering and tentative and precious beyond measure.

For now, it was enough.
/
/
/
Note: I'll be working on a split for this one soon.

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter VIII: Sacrifice

---

In the years that followed, I dedicated myself to my training with a fierce, unwavering focus.

Pushed myself to my limits and beyond, seeking out every opportunity to learn and grow.​

---

Mikasa and Anja stood facing each other, wooden swords at the ready. They had been sparring for hours, the sun beating down on them mercilessly, but neither of them showed any signs of fatigue.

Mikasa struck first, her blade a blur of motion. Anja parried, the impact sending shockwaves up her arm. They traded blows back and forth, the clack of wood against wood ringing out across the training grounds.

"Your footwork is more solid, and you're anticipating my moves better." Mikasa said, her voice even.

Anja nodded, adjusting her grip on her sword. "I want to be ready, for whatever comes."

Mikasa's eyes softened, a hint of understanding in their dark depths. "We all do. But don't forget to take care of yourself, Anja. You're no good to anyone if you burn out."

Her words gave Anja pause. She was right, of course. Anja had been pushing herself hard, maybe too hard. "I'll keep that in mind," she said, offering Mikasa a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Mikasa. You know, you're amazing at this. At everything, really. Even the instructors say it."

Mikasa shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable with the praise. "I don't really pay attention to that. I just do what needs to be done."

They went again, trading blows with increasing speed and intensity. Thinking about it, Mikasa was simply a level above everyone else, she found herself thinking about Annie, in her mind she seemed to be the only one who stood a chance to challenge Mikasa.

"You and Annie," Anja said, ducking under a swing of Mikasa's blade, "you're going to be the top of the class, no doubt. The way you two move, it's like you were born for this."

Mikasa's expression darkened slightly, her strikes coming a little harder, a little faster. "Annie is skilled, yes. But there's something that doesn't click. I don't trust her."

Anja frowned, surprised by the vehemence in Mikasa's tone. "Huh? She's one of us, isn't she?"

"She just doesn't seem interested to be a part, she isn't someone I'd like to have on my corner. You should be wary about her. " Mikasa muttered, but she didn't elaborate further.

They fell back into the rhythm of the spar, but Anja couldn't shake the feeling of unease, Mikasa was slowly gaining on her, Anja knew she couldn't keep fighting at her pace much longer.

Anja saw an opening and lunged, trying to slip past Mikasa's guard. But at the last second, Mikasa twisted, her blade coming up in a lightning-fast parry. With a flick of her wrist, she sent Anja's sword flying from her hand, the tip hitting her fingers with a sharp thump, then swept her off the ground with a kick.

Anja laid there holding her hand with gritted teeth, panting, as Mikasa leveled her wooden blade at her throat. "And just like that, you're dead," Mikasa said, her voice calm and controlled.

Anja raised her hands in surrender, a rueful grin tugging at her lips. "No, please take me alive."

Mikasa lowered her sword, a small smile softening her features. "That was a good attempt. But you need to watch your grip. The way you're holding your sword, in a real fight, you'd be at risk of losing fingers."

Anja glanced down at her hand, noting the way her fingers were positioned on the hilt, a bad habit she had formed. "I see what you mean. Guess I still have a lot to learn, huh?"

Mikasa offered Anja a hand up. "But you're learning fast. Keep this up, and one day, you might even beat me."

Anja laughed loudly, clasping Mikasa's forearm and allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. "I seriously doubt that, but thanks for the vote of confidence," she agreed, her eyes sparkling with determination. "Hah, I'd pity the titan that would have to face you, glad we're on the same side."

---

It wasn't easy, I had to regain the trust of most of my comrades once more, even the instructors, but there were always those ready to help.

I studied my fellow cadets intently, learning from the best of what each had to offer. I spent long hours training my body, pushing myself to be stronger, faster, better.​

---

Anja gritted her teeth, her arms trembling as she strained to complete her set of pull-ups. Beside her, Reiner watched, his expression a mix of encouragement and scrutiny.

"Come on, Anja! Just three more!" he barked, his voice cutting through the haze of exhaustion.

Anja's muscles screamed in protest, but she pushed through the pain, determined to finish. One, two...

With a final, guttural cry, she pulled herself up one last time, her chin clearing the bar. She hung there for a moment, savoring the burn, before dropping to the ground.

Reiner grinned, tossing her a waterskin. "Nice work. You've really improved from when you first started."

Anja caught the waterskin, taking a long, grateful gulp. She was about to thank him when she noticed a group of instructors nearby, their gazes fixed on her. One of them, a grizzled veteran with a scar across his cheek, leaned over to whisper something to his companion, his eyes never leaving Anja.

Anja's stomach clenched, a wave of unease washing over her. Were they talking about her? The forest-

"Hey, hey, hey! Eyes on me, don't let them distract you." Reiner's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, firmly.

Anja dragged her gaze back to him, trying to shake off the sense of foreboding. "Sorry, I just...do you think they're talking about me? About...what I did?"

Reiner's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Don't worry about them. Focus on your training, on getting stronger. That's all that matters."

Anja nodded, taking a deep breath to center herself. "You're right. I can't let it get to me."

"That's the spirit," Reiner said, his tone taking on a slightly more formal, almost military cadence. "A soldier's duty is to push past their limits, to be ready for anything."

Bertholdt, who had been quietly observing the exchange, stepped forward, a hint of concern in his eyes. "Reiner," he said softly, "don't you think you're being a bit...intense?"

Reiner blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. He shook his head, his usual easy grin sliding back into place. "Ah, you're right. Sorry about that, Anja. Guess I got a little carried away."

Anja waved off his apology, offering him a small smile. "It's okay. I appreciate the push. It helps me stay focused."

Reiner's grin widened, and he draped an arm around Bertholdt's shoulders, pulling the taller boy in close. "See, Bert? Anja gets it. Maybe you could learn a thing or two from her."

Bertholdt ducked his head, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "I-I'm just trying to look out for her, that's all."

"Sure, sure," Reiner said, a sly edge creeping into his voice. "But maybe there's another reason you're so invested in Anja's well-being, hmm? A certain blonde, perhaps?"

Bertholdt's blush deepened, and he shrugged out of Reiner's hold, sputtering. "W-what? No, I...it's not like that!"

Anja couldn't help but chuckle at the tall boy's flustered reaction. It was nice, seeing this softer, more human side of her usually stoic comrades.

"Relax, Bertholdt," she said, her tone light and teasing. "I'm pretty sure Annie only has eyes for the training dummy she beats to a pulp every day."

Reiner barked out a laugh, clapping Bertholdt on the back hard enough to make him stumble. "See? Nothing to worry about. Anja's one of us, right?"

Bertholdt nodded, offering Anja a shy, grateful smile. "Right. Sorry, Anja. I didn't mean to imply..."

Anja waved him off, still grinning. "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad to have you guys looking out for me. It...it means a lot."

For a moment, the three of them just stood there, basking in the easy camaraderie. But then the moment passed, and Reiner clapped his hands, his expression turning businesslike once more.

"Alright, enough. Those pull-ups aren't going to do themselves!"

---

As my skills grew, so too did my reputation. My spars with Annie, once private affairs, now drew crowds of onlookers eager to witness our intense matches.​

---

"Five coppers on Anja!" Connie shouted, grinning widely.

"You can do it!" Eren chimed in, pumping his fist in the air.

Ymir smirked, shaking her head. "Easy money. Leonhart's going to wipe the floor with her, as usual."

Jean nodded in agreement. "No way Wolf's taking this one. Annie's just too good."

Connie smirked. "I don't know, Jean. Anja's been improving. She might surprise you."

Beside him, Christa bit her lip, her wide blue eyes filled with concern. "Just be careful, both of you," she called out.

Anja ignored the chatter, her focus solely on the girl in front of her. Annie was as inscrutable as ever, her blonde hair pulled back in her usual severe bun, her stance relaxed but ready.

They circled each other warily, looking for an opening. Anja darted in, feinting left and right, trying to throw Annie off balance. But the blonde was too quick, dodging and weaving with effortless grace.

Annie retaliated with a series of rapid-fire jabs and kicks, forcing Anja on the defensive. Anja blocked and parried, but she could feel herself tiring, the relentless pace taking its toll.

Frustration mounting, Anja launched a desperate flurry of attacks herself, trying to break through Annie's guard. For a moment, it seemed to work - Annie's eyes widened slightly as she was forced to give ground.

Seeing her chance, Anja lunged forward, putting all her strength into a vicious haymaker. Her fist connected with Annie's jaw with a satisfying crack, snapping the blonde's head back. Annie's hair came loose from its bun, falling around her face in a pale curtain.

Annie staggered, and the crowd roared. As she recovered, for a split second, Annie's icy blue eyes locked with Anja's, a chilling intensity in their depths. It was as if a switch had been flipped - the cool, calculating warrior replaced by something far more dangerous.

She came at Anja with renewed intensity, her movements a blur. Anja tried to keep up, but she was outmatched. A punch slipped through her guard, then another, and another.

Annie's hand shot out, grasping Anja's long ponytail firmly. With a sharp tug, she pulled Anja in close, driving her knee into Anja's chest with brutal force. The impact lifted Anja off her feet, sending her crashing to the dirt.

Anja lay there, gasping for breath and clutching her chest. Dimly, she was aware of the crowd's reaction - Ymir's triumphant whoop, Connie and Eren's groans, Christa's gasp.

A shadow fell over her, and she looked up to see Annie standing over her, one hand outstretched.

Anja took her hand, allowing Annie to pull her to her feet. "Damn," she said ruefully, holding her chest with her other hand.. "Best two out of three?"

Annie's lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile. "I think you've had enough for the day. You're still too impatient. You telegraph your moves." She reached up, deftly wrapping her own hair back into its usual bun, then gave Anja's disheveled locks a pointed look. "And, you should do something about that hair."

Anja nodded, taking the criticism in stride. She reached up to push her sweaty hair out of her face, wincing as her fingers tangled in her long ponytail. "Yeah, maybe it's time for a change."

As they left the ring, everyone swarmed around them. Christa fussed over their bruises, while Ymir laughed uproariously.

"Oh man, that was great!" The tall girl barely made any stride to contain her laughter. "The look on your face when Leonhart hit you with that knee, priceless!"

Connie, meanwhile, was rummaging through his pockets with a mournful expression. "I can't believe I lost again. I was so sure this time!"

Eren clapped Anja on the shoulder, his eyes shining. "Don't give up yet, you're close."

Anja grinned, warmed by her friend's support. "Thanks, Eren."

"Hey, guys!" Connie piped up, his earlier disappointment forgotten. "Let's go down to the lake, cool off a bit. What do you say?"

There was a chorus of enthusiastic agreement, and the group began to move off, chattering and laughing. Anja hung back a moment, turning to Annie.

"You coming?" she asked, jerking her head towards the others.

But Annie was already walking away, heading back towards the training dummies. "I'll pass," she said over her shoulder.

Anja shrugged, unsurprised. "Suit yourself. But you know, all work and no play..."

Annie didn't respond, already lost in her own world.

Anja turned to follow her friends, shaking her head. "Right…" she muttered under her breath, a pang of sadness rising in her chest.

She sighed, shaking her head ruefully.

"Hey, Anja! Let's go!" Eren called out, pausing to look back at her.

Anja glanced once more at Annie's retreating form, then turned to face her friends, a smile slipping into place. "I'm coming!" she yelled back, jogging to catch up.

---

While my body grew stronger, my mind often felt like it was lagging behind. Armin, with his patient guidance and keen intellect, was always there to help me bridge the gap.​

---

Anja stared at the map spread out on the table before her, her brow furrowed in concentration. Lines and symbols seemed to swim before her eyes, a tangled web she couldn't make any sense out of.

"I don't get it," she said at last, leaning back in her chair with a frustrated sigh. "How do you keep all of this straight in your head?"

"Takes some practice. But, hey, it's alright, we can go over it again," Armin reassured her, his tone patient and understanding.

Anja groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Do we really have to? How is any of this useful? I mean, you just slice their napes and they're dead, period. Why memorize all this stuff?"

Armin looked up from his own studying, a thoughtful expression on his face. "In theory, yes, but getting there isn't always that simple," he said, tapping his finger on the map. "This is about understanding your enemy. Anticipating their moves based on what we know about them."

Anja frowned, considering his words. "What's there to know? They're just mindless monsters that want to eat us."

"Are they?" Armin countered, a glint of something sharp in his eyes. "For a century, perhaps that's what they were. Four years ago, the Colossal and Armored appeared, everything we knew about Titans was upturned in a day. Think about it, Anja. They didn't even struggle to breach the wall that day… Why haven't they wiped us out completely?"

Anja shrugged, unsure where he was going with this. "I don't know, maybe they ate their fill and decided not to attack again..."

But Armin seemed lost in his own thoughts, his voice taking on an intense, distant quality as he continued, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "No, there must be something else at play here. Those two seemed intelligent, they must have had some sort of goal. Maybe they evolved? What if there are more of them? I know there must be some reason why the Titans haven't overrun us entirely."

His hand came up to his chin, his eyes focused on something far away. "But there's an even more important question: What if they have a weakness? A pattern to their behavior that we can exploit?"

Anja watched him, fascinated and a little unnerved by the intensity of his focus. She could practically see the gears turning in his head.

"You see, Anja? This is how it works," Armin continued, his voice low and fervent. "You observe, gather information, think of all you know... If you can understand your opponent, their motivations, their desires... you can use that against them. Set traps that play on their weaknesses, lure them, trick them into making mistakes."

Anja nodded slowly, trying to follow his train of thought. It made sense, in a way, but she had trouble assimilating it all. In her mind, it was always better to hit first and ask questions later but each to their own.

Armin sat back, a satisfied gleam in his eye, seeming to come back to himself. "That's the power of strategy, Anja. Outthinking your opponent, using their own nature against them. It doesn't take brute force, it's about understanding. And a little patience."

Anja huffed a laugh, shaking her head ruefully. "You're kind of terrifying, you know that?" she said, only half-joking. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

Armin laughed, the sound warm and bright in the quiet of the classroom. "Don't worry. I only use my powers for good."

"Thanks for the help, I'd have surely failed all the tests if it wasn't for you."

Armin ducked his head, a slight flush coloring his cheeks. "Don't mention it, I'm just glad I could be the one to help for once. It's the only thing I'm good at..."

"Hey, don't say that," Anja chided gently. "You're the smartest guy I know. That's got to count for something."

Armin shrugged, a self-deprecating smile on his face. "I don't know... Certainly not to be a soldier… I could barely make it past training, not like you guys."

She reached out, giving Armin's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Don't sell yourself short. Your mind is your greatest strength. If I ever find myself in a tight spot, you're one of the first people I turn to. I know I can always count on you."

Armin looked up, surprise and warmth in his eyes. "Thanks, Anja. That... that means a lot."

They shared a smile, the moment stretching between them, warm and comfortable. Then Armin straightened, tapping the map with renewed energy.

"Alright, let's try going over this one more time. I know you can get it."

---

I did everything I could to prepare, I was ready…​

---

Eren and Anja were perched high in the treetops, taking a brief respite from their intensive ODM training. The sun dappled through the leaves, casting a mottled pattern across their sweat-streaked faces.

Everyone who cared had been pushing themselves to their limits, it was one thing to become a soldier, a very different one to be able to make it to the top ten. For now, there was nothing to be done but wait and prepare, those with the highest scores would be allowed one final test.

Below them, Jean could be seen practicing his own maneuvers, his face set in a mask of grim determination. Eren scowled, muttering something under his breath as he watched him execute a particularly impressive spin.

"He knows I am watching, asshole," Eren grumbled, his green eyes flashing with irritation.

She nudged him with her elbow, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Hey, don't let him get to you."

Eren huffed, turning his attention back to the dense forest ahead. They launched themselves forward, the wind whipping through their hair as they darted between the trees. Anja moved with grace, she effortlessly navigated the complex terrain. Even Eren, who was no slouch himself, had to work to keep up with her, her training seemed to be finally paying off.

Eventually, they came to rest on a wide bough that overlooked the camp, chests heaving with exertion. Eren grinned, his earlier annoyance forgotten.

"I can't believe it, we're almost there," he said, his voice filled with anticipation.

Anja nodded, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "It's been a long road."

"Soon we'll be taking the fight to them," His eyes gleaming with determination. "We'll make them pay for everything they've taken from us."

But Anja's attention had drifted. From their vantage point, she could see the other recruits going about their day. Sasha's and Connie's laughter floated up through the leaves. Armin was nose-deep in a book, Mikasa a silent sentinel at his side. And there, off in a quiet corner, was Annie, her posture relaxed against a tree her eyes ever sharp and observant.

It was peaceful, quiet, it almost lulled her, like one of those dreams you never want to wake up from.

The sound of thunder broke the tranquility, dark clouds seemed to be slowly advancing in the horizon.

She had ignored it, deluded herself. What would come next? It was senseless to try to forget that fateful day, the pain, the horror of living through that hell all over again, of losing her family. She thought she had nothing left to lose but now…

She brought her hand to her chest, gripping her brother's necklace strongly.

"Everything alright?" Eren asked, noticing her distraction.

She sighed, running a hand through her sweat-dampened hair, the short strands of her recently cut ponytail brushing against her fingers. "...What if it happens again?"

Eren's brows furrowed. "Come on, Anja! What are you saying? It won't. We're more than ready, we've worked hard for this. We're strong, we're prepared."

"My brother was also ready," Anja said quietly, her eyes distant. "Many of our friends will die, maybe... maybe we will die too."

"I think hanging out with Annie has made you gloomy," Eren snapped, his temper flaring. "Where's the Anja I know? The one who's not scared of anything?"

Anja shook her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "I'm ready to lay down my life if it comes to it... But... I'm scared to lose anyone again..."

Eren's expression softened slightly, but his voice was still firm as he spoke. "You need to get your head straight, take some perspective. The survival of humanity is what's at stake here, not just our lives."

As Eren continued to speak, Anja's gaze drifted to the instructors she could see in the distance, already drilling new recruits with their usual unrelenting harshness.

"Whether we like it or not, there's bound to be sacrifices for that. We just have to keep moving forward, there's no other choice if we want to have a future. "

"But you know that as well as I do. You've sacrificed and struggled just as much..." His green eyes bored into hers. "So why else then? Why else would you push yourself so hard?"

"For them…"

---

The forest was still and silent, the early morning mist curling between the towering trunks like ghostly fingers. The only sound was the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze, the occasional chirp of a waking bird.

Suddenly, the tranquility was shattered by the hiss of gas and the zip of wires as figures came hurtling through the trees at breakneck speed. Startled birds took flight in a rush of flapping wings, their alarmed cries swallowed by the whoosh of air and the clank of metal.

---

"Today, those worthy will face your final evaluation. This is the culmination of your training, the ultimate test of your skills and your mettle. You will be pushed to your limits and beyond. Some of you may break. But those who emerge victorious will have earned the right to be amongst the elite of the elite."​

---

Anja burst through the treeline, banners had been neatly arranged across the paths they were to take, instructors flanking them, watching their every move. The familiar training grounds ahead had been transformed into an urban labyrinth, wooden prop buildings and platforms stretching out.

She launched into the air, ODM gear hissing to life. She soared over the narrow streets, scanning for the quickest path.

Mikasa moved with fluid grace just ahead her, dispatching Titan dummies with ease. Anja gritted her teeth, pushing to keep pace.

A gap between buildings. Anja angled towards it, gas propelling her forward. A wall buckled and collapsed, debris tumbling into her path. Instinct kicked in. Anchor fired, momentum swinging her through, twisting to avoid the wreckage.

Sasha yelped behind her, narrowly avoiding a collapse. Connie whooped with glee, bounding from rooftop to rooftop. Marco scrambled for footholds.

Eren roared, she could hear the blades tearing through the Titan dummies. Jean wove through the alleys below, grim determination etched on his face.

Annie rocketed past, form perfect, flipping and spinning. Their eyes met, a jolt of something unnameable. Then gone, disappearing around a corner.

Anja refocused, spotting another dummy. Heartbeat pounding, she closed the distance. Twist, blades biting deep. Damn it! She missed the mark, biting through the wood almost losing her grip in the process.

Focus. Scan, leap, swing back into the fray.

Reiner battered through a collapsing wall. Bertholdt following close behind him, swung around a chimney, agile despite his lankiness.

Anja lost herself in the flow. Mind empty, focused on the next anchor, the next target, the next breath. This was what she trained for, bled for, sacrificed for.

She would not fail.

---

"Each zone will test your skills, adaptability, and resolve. Only those who exceed expectations will have a chance at securing a spot in the top 10. Your performance here will determine your future within the military."​

---

They were circled back to the forest, ancient trees looming before them. Anja took a deep breath.

The forest was a different beast from the urban landscape. Branches whipped at her face, threatened to snag her feet. The very air seemed thicker, weighted with the scent of moss and loam.

Launching into the trees, ODM gear hissing, she navigated the dense foliage. Mikasa and Annie moved like wraiths, twisting through narrow gaps. Sasha, in her element, her keen senses guiding her around hidden pitfalls and through dense thickets.

Eren and Jean, neck and neck as always, bulled their way through the undergrowth. Reiner and Bertholdt followed close behind, their larger frames making the going tougher but no less determined.

A flash of movement in the corner of her eye. Anja reacted on instinct, diving to the side, cursing as she broke through branches, a massive wooden arm swept through the space she'd just occupied.

Pulleys springing the trap once more. Moving dummies, great.

She heard a yelp of fear and turned to see a cadet – Mina- frozen in the path of another dummy's grasping hand. Without thinking, Anja launched herself towards her, tackling her out of the way just as the arm chopped empty air.

They tumbled to the forest floor. Anja twisting to take the brunt of the impact. She felt her breath leave her lungs in a rush.

"T-thanks," Mina gasped, her face white with shock.

Anja just nodded, already struggling back to her feet. "Stay sharp," she said, her voice rough. "It's not over yet."

She fired her anchors, gas propelling her back into the fray. She could make out the figures of, Mikasa, dancing around the puppet dummies, her blades flashing silver as they struck with surgical precision at their ropes.

Anja pushed harder, another puppet looming before her. She wouldn't miss now. Blades drawn, she retracted her anchors, letting momentum carry her.

The world slowed. As its arms fell on her, but she was too fast. Blades hit home, tearing through the padded neck. Stuffing exploded as Anja swung away, the dummy left limp.

She felt a rush rising in her chest. No rest. Dodging, weaving. Muscles burning, sweat stinging, blood from a bitten lip. She felt in her element.

The forest's end came into view. Anja burst through the treeline, having caught up to the fore runners once more.

"Zone 2 clear! Proceed to the next stage!"

---

"You will be scored both individually and as teams. Failure is not an option. If you do not meet the minimum score required to pass or fail to make it through the course, you won't be taken into consideration."​

---

Teams rushed into the clearing, Anja's heart raced with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Each placed adjacent to each other separated by thin walls, some platforms jutting out in between. Towering Titan dummies loomed before them, their arms swinging in unpredictable arcs, controlled by an intricate network of pulleys and cables manned by the instructors.

Anja found herself grouped with Marco, Jean, Sasha, and Nac. As they sprinted towards their starting point, the sun beating down on their backs, she glanced at the other teams, her stomach dropping as she saw them already preparing to engage the dummies.

"Come on, come on," she muttered under her breath, urging her team to move faster, the taste of dust, copper and sweat on her tongue.

As the designated area they scrambled to refill their gas tanks. Anja's fingers fumbled with the canisters, her eyes darting to the team next to them. They were already grappling with the dummies.

"Forster, you're out!" Shadis's bark snapped Anja's attention. Floch was on the ground, his gear malfunctioning, the gas canisters were improperly secured. She checked hers once more for good measure, the metal hot under her fingertips.

"Alright, what's the plan?" Jean asked, his usually cocky demeanor replaced by a grim focus, his brow gleaming with perspiration.

Marco gathered the team around him, his eyes scanning the layout before them. "Listen up," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. "The dummies are on fixed routes. If we time our attacks right, we can use their predictable movements to our advantage."

He pointed to the nearest one, its arm swinging in a wide, lazy arc, the cables creaking with each movement. "Sasha, you take position on that platform. When the dummy's arm is at its highest point, you'll act as a distraction the instructors will pull it toward you. Jean, you and I will flank it from either side, striking when its arm is lowest. Nac and Anja, you two-"

But Anja was barely listening, her gaze locked on the dummy, its painted smile seeming to mock her. She could feel the seconds ticking by, the pressure mounting, her heart pounding in her ears. They needed to move, now.

"I've got this!" She burst out, launching herself forward before Marco could finish. She heard his shout of protest behind her, but she was already in motion, gas propelling her towards her target, the wind whipping through her hair.

She ducked under its swinging arms, blades poised to strike. But in her haste, she misjudged the timing. The dummy's other arm came around, faster than she anticipated. She twisted mid-air, trying to evade, but her shoulder slammed into Jean, sending them both spinning, the impact jarring her teeth.

"Anja, what the hell?" Jean snapped, barely regaining his balance, his face flushed with anger.

Anja gritted her teeth, pushing forward, the taste of blood in her mouth. She saw an opening to jump on the next target and took it. But her reckless move put her directly in Nac's path.

Get out of the way Wolf!" Nac shouted as he barreled towards her.

Anja tried to evade, but it was too late. They collided hard, Nac's gear tangling with hers. He cried out as he lost his grip, plummeting towards the ground, the wind snatching away his scream.

"Tius, you're out!"

Anja's cheeks burned with a mix of anger and embarrassment as Nac cursed her, she bit her tongue. They didn't have the time for this now.

Anja managed to right herself, her heart pounding, breath coming in ragged gasps. She looked back to see Marco, Jean, and Sasha staring at her, frustration evident on their sweat-streaked faces.

"Anja, fall back!" Marco commanded, his voice strained. "Stick to the plan!"

Anja swallowed hard, her throat dry and tight, reluctantly retreating. She watched as her team regrouped, Marco directing them with calm precision, exploiting the dummies' predictable paths.

One by one, they fell, the team progressing through the challenge, the sound of splintering wood and tearing fabric filling the air. But the victory felt hollow to Anja. Her impulsiveness had nearly cost them everything.

Anja took a shuddering breath, the hot air searing her lungs, trying to shake off the weight of her mistake. Was this it? No, she hadn't come this far to quit, the grit of determination grinding between her teeth. There was still one more challenge, a final chance to prove herself and make things right.

She turned to her teammates, a new determination burning in her eyes, bright against the dirt and sweat on her face. "I messed up. But we still have one more shot. We can still do this."

Jean scoffed, his face twisted in a scowl, his gear clanking as he shifted. "Oh, now you want to be a team player? After nearly getting us all disqualified?"

Sasha laid a hand on his arm, her expression more sympathetic, her chest still heaving from the exertion. "Jean, come on. We all make mistakes."

Marco nodded, his gaze steady on Anja, his face streaked with dust and sweat. "Sasha's right. Besides, we're a team. We win together, we lose together. We still have a chance."

---

"We will challenge not only your physical abilities but also your mental fortitude and your ability to work as a cohesive unit. The Titans beyond the walls will not discriminate; they will not show mercy. Neither will this course."

Shadis's voice boomed across the training grounds, his eyes narrowed as he surveyed the assembled cadets.

"Stand tall, cadets! Show me your strength, your courage, your unbreakable spirit! Be worthy of becoming the swords and shields of humanity!​

---

As the cadets entered the southern part of the training grounds, they were greeted by a daunting sight. The instructors had transformed the area into a gauntlet of environmental hazards.

A network of pipes and sprinklers, installed high in the trees, unleashed a relentless deluge upon the cadets. The ground beneath their feet quickly turned to mud, slick and treacherous. Visibility plummeted as sheets of water obscured their vision.

Anja pushed through the rain, her gear straining as she fought to maintain her speed. She could feel the cables vibrating with tension as she pushed them to their limits, trying to make up for the lost time. Her uniform clung to her skin, heavy and sodden, but she refused to let it slow her down

Ahead, she caught a glimpse of Annie, her form blurred by the sheets of rain. She moved effortlessly through the conditions, her movements precise, behind her like a blur followed what she taught was Reiner and Bertholdt. Anja pushed on, willing herself to move faster.

As they seemed to finally emerge from the rain, a sudden shout rang out from the sidelines.

"Fire!"

A barrage of explosions split the air, signal flares spiraling in all directions. They left thick, smoky trails in their wake, and within moments, the forest was enveloped by an impenetrable fog that swallowed the cadets whole.

"Stick close!" Marco's voice cut through the haze, urgent and commanding, just before they all lost sight of each other in the swirling green smoke.

Anja soon found herself engulfed in a disorienting haze. The thick fog seemed to swallow all sound, leaving her in an eerie, muffled silence. She strained her senses, trying to locate her teammates amidst the swirling green smoke.

Sight became useless. She had to rely on her other senses - the feel of the wind against her skin, the sound of her comrades' movements, the spatial awareness drilled into them through countless hours of training.

Somewhere in the smoke, Titan dummies lurked - hidden threats waiting to ambush the unwary.

Anja's heart pounded as she navigated the blinding haze. Her ears strained for the telltale creak of wood and canvas that would give away a dummy's position. Sweat mingled with the dampness of the rain on her skin as she pushed herself forward, faster and faster, trusting that her teammates were beside her.

Suddenly, a cry rang out to her left – Jean.

She pivoted towards the sound, her heart pounding. Through a break in the smoke, she saw him - his ODM gear tangled around the arm of a Titan dummy, the cables pulled taut as he struggled to break free.

Anja reacted instinctively. She launched herself towards the sound, blades drawn. She burst through the smoke just in time to see Sasha struggling in the dummy's grasp, her feet kicking frantically.

Anja didn't hesitate. She launched herself towards Jean, her blades drawn. As she closed in, she could see the dummy's arm creaking under the strain of Jean's thrashing, threatening to rip free and send him careening out of control.

With a roar of effort, Anja brought her blades down on the dummy's arm, severing it cleanly. Jean dropped free, gasping. He shot her a look of startled gratitude before regaining his composure.

"I had it under control," he muttered, but there was no real bite to his words.

Anja just shook her head, already scanning for the rest of their team. Through the thinning smoke, she spotted Marco and Sasha, their forms slowly coming into focus.

"Come on," She shouted, pointing with a blade. "We need to regroup and push for the finish."

As they raced to join their teammates, Anja felt a sudden, sickening lurch. Her ODM gear, already strained from the grueling course, let out a groan of protesting metal.

For a heart-stopping moment, she thought the cables would give way entirely. But they held, and she pushed on.

With a final, desperate burst of speed, they caught up to Marco and Sasha, the four of them bursting from the dissipating smoke together. They blinked in the sudden brightness, the world around them snapping back into focus with startling clarity.

Through breaks in the quickly thinning smoke, Anja caught sight of the finish line, a red flag fluttering in the breeze like a beacon, tantalizingly close. Her heart leapt, a fierce joy surging through her veins.

"We're going to make it!" she exclaimed, her voice bright with elation and relief, barely audible over the rushing wind and the pounding of her heart in her ears.

Anja could only see a handfulof the cadets converging on it, their forms blurred by speed and distance.

Anja pushed herself harder, pouring everything she had left. She burst forward at full throttle, the wind tearing at her hair and clothes, ignoring the burning in her lungs and the increasingly erratic vibrations of her gear, the straps digging into her flesh like claws.

Victory was within their grasp. Just a few more meters, and -

SNAP!

The cable gave way with a sound like a gunshot, the crack of overstressed metal shattering the air. It was lost in the rush of wind and the thundering of Anja's pulse, drowned out by the roar of her own blood in her ears.

She had just enough time to register the sudden slack, the sickening lurch in her stomach, the world tilting crazily around her—and then she was falling, plummeting towards the earth like a stone.

She hit hard, the impact driving the air from her lungs and sending her rolling across the muddied earth.

Dazed and winded, Anja could only watch as her teammates and the other cadets rocketed overhead, crossing the finish line in a blur of flashing blades and billowing cloaks, the sun glinting off their equipment like angelic wings.

For a brief, agonizing moment, she caught a glimpse of some of her teammates glancing down at her, their expressions a mix of shock and dismay and heart-wrenching concern.

They had made it. But Anja, lying stunned and battered in the mud… She had failed, her gear lying in broken pieces around her.

Gritting her teeth against the pain that lanced through her battered body, Anja reached out with shaking fingers, grasping one of her blades where it had fallen.

With a grunt of effort, she dragged herself to her feet, leaning heavily on the sword.

Tears streamed down her face as she began to limp towards the finish line, mingling with the grime and the sweat on her cheeks. All Anja could perceive was the sight of that red flag, fluttering tauntingly in the distance.

With a guttural cry that tore from the depths of her soul, Anja pitched forward. Her outstretched hand grasped futilely at the air as the ground rushed up to meet her. Then blackness.

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter IX: Revelry and Ruin

---

Crimson fog swirled around me.

I moved through the haze, every sense razor-sharp, every muscle coiled with predatory intent.

Shapes materialized in the murk ahead - shadowy figures, stumbling and crawling.

Prey.

They flee before me, all the more exciting when they run.

I was relentless, tireless.

A flash of white caught my eye - a slender figure in a tattered uniform, Slicked in scarlet, but I smelled no wounds, only fear. I lunged, legs pounding the earth, jaws yawning wide.

A choked scream, abruptly silenced as my teeth found their mark.

I wrenched my head, felt flesh tear and bones crunch.

Sweet, hot, coppery blood flooded my mouth.

More.

An insatiable craving drove me on, seeking the next kill, the next glut of steaming viscera.

Screams echoed through the mist, cut off one by one as I tore through their ranks.

Wide eyes, pleading, accusing, disappeared behind curtains of crimson spray.

At last, only one remained.

A lone shadow in the mist, standing tall, clinging to a slim frame.

Auburn hair, terrified green eyes boring into mine.

And that scent... It stirred something primal in my blood.

I stalked forward, a growl building in my throat.

This one would not escape me. I would rend and tear until nothing remained but splintered bones and bloody scraps, an offering to sate my eternal hunger.

"Why...why didn't you save us?"

My own face stared back at me, contorted in agony and horror, blood bubbling from torn lips.

"Monster"

"Monster!"

"Beast"

More shapes emerged, familiar faces somehow forgotten, once bright with life - now darkened with blood, eye sockets hollow and accusing.

I recoiled, a whine rising in my throat. No, this was wrong. I was meant to protect them...

I looked at my hands - not claws, but human, raw and blistered, knuckles scraped to the bone.

Fragmented memories crowded in. Rain...falling, falling...

I had failed. Failed, them all.

The shadows advanced, fingers jabbing, voices rising in condemnation.

"Couldn't even save yourself. What good are you?"

"Useless. Pathetic. Better off dead."

I backed away, stumbling, gasping. The hunger rose, a red tide surging through my veins, drowning out their cries.

And then, from deep within, I felt it. A stirring, a shifting of something ravenous. It uncoiled slowly, sinuously, stretching awake once more.

Agony lanced through me as it began to tear its way free, ripping through flesh and bone and sinew. I screamed, but the sound was lost in the wet, crunching rend of my own body being split asunder.

Through the haze of pain and terror, I caught glimpses -claws, wicked and curved, obsidian knives dripping crimson. Eyes, burning red, insatiable, soulless .

The shades vanished, dissipating like mist before the rising sun.

In their place, it emerged, birthed from the ruin of my own flesh.

It fixed me with a pitiless, predatory gaze. I shrank back, whimpering, scrabbling at the ground with the tattered remains of my hands.

"Please..." I choked out, but there was no mercy in those eyes.

It lunged, faster than thought, than fear. I had time for one final, agonized howl before its weight crushed me to the ground and its maw closed around my throat--​

---

And Anja jolted awake, the scream still lodged in her throat, cold sweat drenching her shivering frame.

Just a nightmare... Just...

Where... am I?

For a long, disorienting moment, she couldn't place her surroundings. The room was small and sparsely furnished, the walls a dull, institutional grey. Midday sunlight slanted through a single narrow window, throwing harsh shadows across the rough woolen blanket covering her legs, she could make out her uniform, dirtied and somewhat torn at the edge of the bed.

Anja's hand instinctively reached for her neck, seeking the familiar comfort of her brother's pendant, but finding only bare skin. Panic surged through her, and she frantically scanned the room until her eyes landed on the small bedside table.

There, glinting in the muted light, lay the pendant. With a shaky sigh of relief, Anja reached out and clasped it, the cool metal soothing against her palm.

She tried to sit up, her body protesting every movement. As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, a wave of dizziness washed over her, and she stumbled, gripping the bedframe for support.

"Doctor! The patient is awake," a woman called out, rushing to Anja's side.

Moments later, a middle-aged man in a white coat entered the room, his expression a mix of surprise and concern.

"Easy there, you shouldn't be up and about yet," he cautioned, his voice laced with worry. He approached Anja, his brow furrowed as he looked her over.

"Let me check on you. Lisa, fetch the instructor, please." The nurse nodded and quickly left the room.

"Would you sit, please?" the doctor asked gently. Anja nodded, sinking back onto the bed. It was only then that she noticed the empty bed beside her.

"Oh, some of your friends came over these past few days. No other patients here but you," the doctor explained, noting her curiosity.

He began his examination, moving his finger in front of her eyes and tapping her knees with a small hammer. With each test, his expression grew more puzzled.

"What? What do you mean 'these days'? How long has it been?" Anja asked, anxiety rising in her voice.

"Well, you've been here for four days already," The man remarked.

"Four days?! I need to go back," Anja exclaimed, panic palpable as she tried to stand again.

The doctor placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, your unit is in Trost, from what I know. I'm sure you won't be left behind by anyone," he reassured her.

"Trost? How?"

"I don't know much, but you must be the newest batch of recruits, 104th right?" Anja nodded slightly. "…Getting younger every year," the doctor mused.

Anja remained silent as the doctor continued his examination, carefully palpating her skull. A puzzled expression flickered across his face once more.

"Do you feel any dizziness, headaches? he asked softly, a single brow raised, a perplexed expression on his features.

"My head's still spinning."

The doctor nodded thoughtfully, processing her response. Anja struggled to make sense of the situation, her memories fragmented and hazy.

"Do you remember your name? What were you doing before you got here?" the doctor probed gently.

"I... Anja, yes. I remember a test, my gear broke... I was going so fast, it's all blurry from there," she struggled to recall, her head throbbing with the effort.

The doctor sighed. "What are the military putting you guys through now?" He shook his head before continuing, "Well, I... I did not expect to say this, but you seem to be fine, minus the bruises and a little swelling." He gestured to her arms and legs, his expression puzzled. "Seems you had a lucky fall--"

A knock at the door interrupted him. "Come in."

Anja's eyes widened as Instructor Shadis entered the room, his imposing figure filling the doorway. She immediately tried to stand and salute, but a sharp pain shot through her body, causing her to grit her teeth.

"At ease," Shadis said gruffly. "No need to stand on ceremony. How are you feeling cadet?"

"Like I got trampled by a horse," Anja replied, wincing as she shifted on the bed.

"You'll survive, that thick skull of yours is good for something at least."

Anja slumped back against the pillows, shame burning hot in her cheeks. "Sir, I... I'm sorry. I failed. I don't... I don't deserve to be a soldier."

Shadis was silent for a long moment, his gaze assessing. Then, to Anja's shock, he pulled up a chair and sat down beside her bed.

"Let me tell you something, Wolf," he said, a hint of gentleness in his usually stern voice. "In all my years of training cadets, I've never met a soldier who didn't fail at something. Who didn't have moments of weakness."

He leaned forward, his eyes intense. "What matters is how you face that failure. How you pick yourself up, and keep moving."

"You think one botched test is going to change my opinion of you, cadet? You think it negates all the blood, sweat, and tears you've put into your training?"

Anja felt her throat tighten. "But I failed..."

He shook his head. "You did, but you're a damn fine soldier, Wolf. If you've had your head unstuck from your ass every once in a while, you'd notice that. I watched you during the test, you put too much strain on your gear, pushed it to the limit. What did you think was going to happen?"

Shadis fixed her with a piercing stare. "Even still, you think I would have let you pass after what you pulled earlier? Going off on your own? In training, you got your teammate disqualified. In a real mission, you could have gotten him killed."

Anja remained silent, the weight of his words settling heavily on her shoulders.

"But you've got heart, I can see that. You've certainly got the guts, but that's not all it takes to be a good soldier. Let this be a lesson, Wolf. Learn from your mistakes for a change."

"I will, sir." Anja promised, her voice steady despite the turmoil within.

Shadis stood, making his way to the door. He paused, glancing back at her. "When the doc gives you the all-clear, report to the Garrison headquarters." His gaze dropped to her disheveled uniform hanging by her bed. "And Wolf, get your uniform sorted for graduation. It's a disgrace."

With that, he left, the door closing firmly behind him. Anja stared at the ceiling, her mind reeling. Graduation. She had almost forgotten in the haze of pain and confusion. A glimmer of hope sparked in her chest.

True to the doctor's assessment, Anja was discharged from the clinic the following day. Despite the lingering aches, she luckily showed no signs of lasting damage. As she stepped out into the bustling streets of Trost, the warm sunlight and fresh air felt like a balm to her battered body and spirit.

---

A week later​

The cadets were scattered along the top of the wall, their figures small against the backdrop of the sky. The cannon they were maintaining gleamed in the sunlight, its metal polished to a high shine. Annie stood a short distance away, her focus solely on her task, while Nac worked silently beside her.

Closer to the cannon, Sasha, Connie, and Anja were engaged in their own maintenance duties. Sasha's fingers were a blur as she worked, even as she continually snuck bites of a cracker, the crumbs dusting her uniform.

"I'm so nervous," Sasha admitted between bites, her voice muffled. "Even if we already know the results, the waiting is killing me."

She sighed, slumping against the cannon, her posture a picture of anxiety. Anja glanced up from her work, a reassuring smile on her face. She set aside her brushes and placed a comforting hand on Sasha's shoulder.

"It's going to be fine," Anja said, her tone soothing. "It's just a simple ceremony."

Sasha's brow furrowed, her fingers twisting the fabric of her jacket. "I don't know... There's going to be so many people there. What if we have to give a speech or something?"

Connie looked up from his work, a confident grin on his face. He stood tall, his chest puffed out slightly. "How hard can it be? We already made it through the worst. After this, a few more days and we'll be certified MPs!"

Anja nodded, her smile widening. "I'm sure you two will do great in the Military Police."

Connie's grin turned smug, his eyes sparkling. "Yup! That's for sure. Just you wait, in a few years, we'll be officers!"

Sasha's eyes lit up at the thought, a dreamy expression crossing her face. "Oh, I'd like that. We would get all kinds of meat, being MPs. Imagine if the officers here have it good, in the capital..." She trailed off, her mouth already watering at the prospect.

Anja laughed, shaking her head fondly. "I'm happy for you. I can't lie, I'm a little jealous."

Connie nudged her playfully. "Yeah, too bad you're not joining us, Anja."

Her smile faltered slightly. "Nah, never wanted to be an MP anyway. But I do regret failing the test. I wish I could have had at least the choice to turn it down…"

Nac, who had been silently working, suddenly spoke up, voice sharp with derision, his brown eyes boring on Anja. "Hmph, some people just can't cut it. It's not like you had any talent to be an MP to begin with. No wonder you failed and brought me down with you."

A stunned silence fell over the group, the easy camaraderie shattered by Nac's outburst.

Annie, still focused on her task, gave a sidelong glance.

"Geez, tone it down a little, man." Connie, spoke up.

Anja felt a pang of guilt and shame, her gaze dropping to the ground. She couldn't bear to look Nac in the eye.

Annie's voice cut through the tension, quiet but firm. "Ignore him. He's just bitter."

Nac rounded on her, his face reddened with anger. "And what did you do to earn the fourth place, Annie? You slacked off during training all the time! You don't deserve it either."

Annie met his gaze, her icy blue eyes narrowing slightly. She seemed unmoved by his accusation, her posture relaxed but unyielding. "Is that so? I can see how useless you must feel, given that you didn't even make it after all that effort. Says a lot about your 'talent', Tius."

Nac flinched as if struck, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. With a muttered curse, he stalked off, his footsteps heavy on the stone.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the group in his wake, broken only by the distant sound of cannons being tested. Reiner, Marco, and Mina approached, their arms laden with supplies.

Reiner took the lead, setting down a heavy box with a clunk. He dusted off his hands, his gaze sweeping over the group. "Our side is done. You can move to the cannons there."

His eyes narrowed slightly as he sensed the lingering unease, the tension palpable in the air. "Something the matter here?"

Annie cast a dismissive glance in the direction Nac had gone, her tone dry and dismissive. "Nothing. Just a passing breeze."

Connie stood, giving the cannon a final pat. "As good as new. We're done here." Sasha and Anja followed suit, gathering their tools.

As they passed Mina, the girl fumbled with her supplies, dropping them in her haste to move out of Anja's way. Anja stooped to help, a friendly smile on her face as she offered the fallen items to Mina.

"Oh, here, I've got it," Anja said gently, her voice warm.

But Mina flinched away, her eyes wide with what could only be described as fear. "No-I've got it, thanks," she stammered, quickly gathering her things and hurrying off.

Anja watched her go, a sinking feeling in her stomach. The memory of those looks, the same ones she'd seen so many times before, was all too familiar. There was nothing she could do about it.

Annie lingered behind, her gaze fixed on Anja. "I'll catch up to you. I missed a spot."

Connie threw an arm around Anja's shoulders, his grin wide and encouraging. "Hey, what's with the long face? Cheer up! We're about to be real soldiers!"

Sasha joined in, her laughter a bit too loud, a bit too forced. Anja appreciated their efforts, but the sting of Mina's rejection and Nac's harsh words lingered, a bitter taste in the back of her throat.

As they walked to their next task, Anja found herself lost in thought, doubt gnawing at her insides. She pushed it aside, focusing instead on the moment, on the work at hand.

The evidence of the military's preparations were clear to see. The cannons gleamed, their mechanisms oiled and primed, these were more advanced, their accuracy greatly improved. Deep trenches scarred the earth near the outer gate, nets at the ready. The soldiers atop the walls were silent and watchful, their eyes constantly scanning the horizon.

The horror of Shiganshina was still fresh in everyone's minds, an ever-present specter. But amidst the fear, there was also determination, a grim resolve to stand and fight.

Anja glanced at her friends, marveling at their ability to laugh and play, to find joy in the moment despite the looming threats beneath them. She wished she could share in their levity, but being there, the weight of her memories, of her duties, dragged at her like chains.

The day wore on, the cadets moving from task to task with practiced efficiency. The sun climbed higher in the sky, its rays beating down on their backs as they worked. Sweat beaded on their brows, but they barely noticed, their minds focused on the job at hand.

Before they knew it, the day was drawing to a close. The cannons stood gleaming in the fading light, a testament to their hard work.

"Come on, Anja! We're going to be late!" Sasha called, wiping her hands on her pants as she stood.

Anja glanced up, surprised to see how low the sun had gotten. She hurried to finish her task, packing away her tools with quickly.

Annie fell into step beside them as they made their way towards the barracks, her expression inscrutable.

"What took you so long?" Anja asked, nudging the blonde girl with her elbow.

Annie just shrugged, her gaze fixed ahead. "Had to double-check something."

They walked in comfortable silence, the easy camaraderie of the day settling over them like a warm blanket.

Soon Anja among her fellow cadets, their faces solemn and proud. Tonight, they would finally become fully fledged soldiers. She would soon take her first steps into the uncertain world beyond the walls.

They walked in comfortable silence, the easy camaraderie of the day settling over them like a warm blanket.

---

Soon, Anja stood there amongst her comrades, their postures firm, arranged in neat lines, their instructors stood before them in the podium. The commander's voice rang out, strong and clear.

"Tonight you stand here, as living proof of your worth."

"From this day forth, you will become the swords that strike down our enemies and the shields that safeguard hope in this world shrouded by darkness."​

Anja's thoughts drifted to the choices that lay ahead, the paths that each of them would take. Most would join the Garrison Regiment or the Military Police, seeking safety and security within the walls. She didn't resent them for it. In fact, she felt a certain peace of mind that her friends would be safe. For her, there was only ever one choice - the Survey Corps.

"In taking this oath, you pledge your lives to the service of the king, to the protection of our people, and to the unyielding pursuit of victory for all humanity."​

It was a daunting prospect, but she knew in her heart that it was the right path, the only path that held any hope of reclaiming what they had lost, a chance to strike back.

The commander's voice grew quieter, but no less intense.

"The hopes and dreams of mankind shall rest upon your shoulders, and with them, your strength."​

Anja's mind wandered to her brother, her mother, her home... The thought of her friends filled her with determination. She had not failed them, not yet... She could still protect them.

"Cadets of the 104th,"

"Do you swear to uphold this sacred duty, to dedicate your hearts and souls to the preservation and triumph of humanity?"​

"We pledge our hearts!"

The recruits now soldiers thundered as one, a hand clasped against their backs and a fist clenched on their hearts.​

---

"To the 104th!"​

The clinking of mugs echoed through the hall, a symphony of celebration and camaraderie. The air was thick with the scent of ale and the sound of laughter, as the newly graduated cadets reveled in their hard-earned victory. A lively tune pulsed in the background invigorating the already euphoric atmosphere.

Anja weaved through the crowd, her own mug in hand, taking in the sights and sounds of the festivities. Everywhere she looked, everyone was in high spirits, their faces flushed with joy and the warmth of the alcohol. Some danced with wild abandon, while others gathered in groups, sharing stories and toasting to their future.

"To us and to the day we'll finally take what was ours!" Eren exclaimed, raising his mug high as Anja approached, he seemed ecstatic, his eyes were alight with a fierce resolution behind them.

"Cheers!" the others echoed, their voices rising above the din.

Anja grinned, clinking her mug with Armin's and Mikasa's, the clinking sounds lost amidst the cheers.

Across the room, her eyes caught sight of Annie, sitting quietly in a corner. Anja raised her mug towards her, a silent invitation. Annie's lips quirked in a small smile, and she nodded, raising her own mug in return. For a fleeting moment, Anja thought she saw a flicker of sadness in Annie's eyes, but before she could dwell on it, a hearty pat on her back jolted her back.

"Come on, Anja!" Connie urged, his face flushed with excitement. "Sasha's challenging everyone to a drinking contest!"

Anja laughed, allowing herself to be swept up in the merriment once more.

As the night wore on, the celebration showed no signs of slowing down. The once-orderly hall had transformed into a cacophony of music, laughter, and animated conversations. Anja found herself staying close to her small group of friends, occasionally catching the curious glances directed her way. She didn't like it. What were they thinking? They knew who she was. No one had forgotten that day in the forest... The attention made her nervous, and she found herself reaching for her mug more often than not.

"They're probably just surprised to see you in something other than your uniform," Armin remarked, noticing Anja's discomfort.

Anja flushed, fumbling with her mug. "Oh, these old rags? Don't see what's so special about them." Still not entirely convinced of that being the cause.

She eventually found herself drawn to a table where Ymir, Christa, Marco, and Connie were engaged in a lively drinking game, empty mugs littering the surface like fallen soldiers.

"Okay, okay, my turn!" Ymir declared, a mischievous glint in her eye as she leaned forward conspiratorially. "Never have I ever... had a crush on someone in this room!"

Christa's eyes widened, a pretty blush staining her cheeks as Ymir grinned and took a deliberate swig of her drink. With a playful wink, Ymir pushed Christa's mug closer to her lips, urging her to follow suit. Christa giggled, taking a dainty sip, her smile shy but pleased.

The table erupted in a mix of laughter and good-natured groans. Connie, never one to be outdone, dramatically downed his entire mug in one go, slamming it back on the table with a resounding thunk.

"Whoa there, Springer!" Ymir teased, her eyebrows climbing towards her hairline. "Control yourself, or you'll be under the table before the night's over."

Connie just grinned, his cheeks already flushed with the warmth of the alcohol. "Hey, if I'm going to be an MP, I might as well start building up my tolerance now, right?"

Christa laughed, the sound bright and bubbly. "Your turn, Marco!"

Marco shook his head, pushing back from the table with an easy smile. "I think I'll sit this one out, guys. I'm feeling a bit dizzy already." He made his way over to where Eren was deep in conversation with Thomas, his gait only slightly unsteady.

Anja, who had been quietly sipping her drink and observing the game with amusement, looked up as Jean approached their table. He had an uncharacteristically nervous air about him, his eyes darting around as if searching for something.

"Come on, Jean boy! Plenty of space here!" Connie called out, waving him over with an exaggerated gesture.

Jean scowled, his cheeks reddening. "Don't call me that!" he snapped, but he moved closer to the table nonetheless. His eyes widened slightly as he noticed Anja, and he cleared his throat. "Oh, hey, Wolf. Glad to see you're doing alright."

Anja nodded, raising her mug in a small salute. "Just happy to be here. Congrats on making the top ten, by the way."

Jean rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Yeah, about that... I wanted to thank you. For what you did during the test. I mean, I had it under control, but... it helped."

Anja waved off his gratitude with a small smile. "Don't mention it. You earned your spot, fair and square."

Jean's eyes flickered over Anja appreciatively, a hint of red creeping up his neck. "You know, I almost didn't recognize you at first. That outfit, it... it suits you."

Anja glanced down at her clothes, perhaps there was something wrong with them, just her plain shirt, blue dress, and that oversized jacket she always used to wear. Suddenly she had become self-conscious again. She took a sip of her drink to hide her embarrassment, mumbling a quick "thanks" into her mug.

Jean shifted his weight, his gaze darting across the room to where Mikasa stood beside Eren. A determined look crossed his face, and he turned back to Anja, squaring his shoulders.

"So, I was wondering... would you maybe want to dance? With me?"

Anja blinked, caught off guard by the sudden invitation. She opened her mouth to respond, but Ymir cut her off with a sharp elbow to the ribs.

"She'd love to!" Ymir declared, practically shoving Anja out of her seat and into Jean's arms.

Anja stumbled, shooting Ymir a bewildered glare over her shoulder. The taller girl just grinned, giving her a not-so-subtle thumbs up.

As Jean led her out onto the dance floor, Anja couldn't help but feel a bit out of her depth. She was used to the precise movements of combat training, not the fluid steps of a social dance. She kept stepping on Jean's toes, her coordination deteriorating with each mug of ale.

Jean, for his part, seemed distracted, his eyes constantly straying towards where Mikasa and Eren were deep in conversation. His normally smooth demeanor was replaced by a nervous energy, his palms slightly clammy against Anja's.

When the song finally ended, Anja hastily thanked Jean for the dance and made her way back to the table, her face burning. Ymir was grinning like the cat that got the cream.

"Oh, Wolf," she sighed, shaking her head in mock despair. "You're a lost cause. Absolutely hopeless."

Anja just groaned, reaching for her mug and taking a long pull. The alcohol buzzed pleasantly through her system, making the room spin in a not-entirely-unpleasant way.

As the night wore on, she found herself drinking more and more, the nerves and self-consciousness fading into a warm, fuzzy haze. She slumped against the table, content to just listen to the swirl of conversation and laughter around her.

At one point, Eren's voice rose above the din, passionate. Something about killing every last Titan, about taking back what was theirs. The tavern quieted for a moment, a hush falling over the crowd.

"Yeah!" Anja cheered, her own voice thick with alcohol. "You tell 'em, Eren!" She pumped her fist in the air, sloshing her drink over the side of her mug.

The somber moment was quickly lost to the festivities. Anja slumped back in her seat, the world warm and pleasantly blurred around the edges. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this light, this unburdened.

The room was starting to feel too hot, too loud. The press of bodies and the clamor of voices were overwhelming, suffocating. Anja stumbled to her feet, swaying slightly as she made her way towards the door.

The cool night air was a balm on her flushed skin, and she took a deep breath, savoring the crisp, clean scent. She walked unsteadily down the street, humming tunelessly under her breath, her mind a pleasant buzz of alcohol and camaraderie.

Suddenly, her foot caught on a loose cobblestone, sending her sprawling. She landed hard, the impact knocking the wind from her lungs and jarring the pendant from around her neck. It clattered to the ground, glinting in the moonlight like a fallen star.

Anja giggled breathlessly as she pushed herself up, but her laughter died in her throat when she noticed the pendant lying in the dirt. Sobering instantly, she reached out with trembling fingers and gently picked it up, dusting it off.

"Sorry, brother," she murmured, her words slurring slightly as she fumbled to place the necklace back around her neck. Her clumsy fingers struggled with the clasp, and she felt a sudden, overwhelming wave of loneliness wash over her.

She clutched the pendant close to her chest, as if she could somehow feel Heinrik's presence through the cool metal. "I wish you were here," she whispered, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. "I'm finally following in your footsteps, just like I always said I would. But I... I don't know if I'll ever be as strong as you."

Her voice broke, and she swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to clear her blurring vision. In her mind's eye, she could see her mother's face, etched with lines of grief and worry. "I wonder what mom would think of me now. What you would think. Would you be proud of me, Heinrik?

The thought was like a knife to the gut, and Anja felt a sob building in her throat. With a grunt of effort, she managed to push herself into a sitting position, leaning back against the cool stone wall of a nearby building. She drew her knees up to her chest, making herself small, as if she could somehow hide from the pain and doubt that gnawed at her insides.

The music and laughter from the tavern drifted out into the night, a bittersweet backdrop to her melancholy thoughts. It seemed so far away now, that warmth and joy, like a dream she couldn't quite hold onto.

Tears began to slip down her cheeks, hot and stinging. She let them fall, too drunk and tired to care about appearances. Here, in the darkness and solitude of the empty street, she could let herself be weak, just for a little while.

The sound of footsteps startled her out of her reverie, and she looked up, hastily swiping at her tears with the back of her hand. A familiar figure was approaching, pausing a few feet away. Annie. Her pale blue eyes widened slightly as she took in Anja's disheveled state, her brows knitting together.

"Anja?"

Anja struggled to her feet, swaying slightly as the world tilted around her. "Annie! Hey!" Her voice was too loud, too bright. "I was just... I mean, I didn't..."

She trailed off, gesturing vaguely, unsure of what she was trying to say. Behind Annie, she caught a glimpse of Reiner standing near the tavern door, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he watched them with an inscrutable expression.

Annie took a step closer, her hand twitching at her side as if she wanted to reach out but thought better of it. "What are you doing out here, Anja?" Her voice was soft, but there was an undercurrent of something Anja couldn't quite place.

Anja shrugged, the movement exaggerated by her intoxication. "Just needed some air," she said, trying for a casual tone and missing by a mile. "It was getting a little intense in there, you know?"

Finally, Annie sighed, her expression softening almost imperceptibly. "Come on," she said, reaching out to steady Anja as she stumbled. "Let's get you back to the barracks."

Anja leaned heavily on the smaller girl as they made their way down the street, giggling despite herself at the absurdity of the situation. "Aww, but the party's just getting started!" she protested halfheartedly. "You only just got here!"

"I think you've had enough fun for one night," Annie replied, her tone dry but not unkind.

Anja pouted, but didn't argue further. She was starting to feel the first hints of exhaustion creeping in, her limbs heavy and clumsy.

They walked in silence for a few moments, the cool night air helping to clear some of the fog from Anja's mind. A thought occurred to her, and she frowned, glancing sideways at Annie.

"So... you and Reiner, huh?"

Annie stiffened almost imperceptibly, her grip on Anja's arm tightening for a brief instant before relaxing again. "What about me and Reiner?" Her voice was carefully neutral.

Anja shrugged, trying to affect an air of nonchalance. "Nothing, just... I didn't know you two were close like that. I mean, I saw you together at the tavern, and I thought..."

She trailed off, suddenly unsure of what she was implying. The alcohol was making it hard to think straight, her thoughts slippery and elusive.

Annie was silent for a long moment, her expression unreadable in the darkness. When she finally spoke, her voice was so soft Anja had to strain to hear it over the distant revelry.

"It's not what you think…It's complicated."

Anja nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and embarrassment wash over her. "Right. Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed..."

"It's fine," Annie cut her off, her tone clipped but not unkind.

Anja mumbled her agreement, leaning more heavily on Annie as a wave of dizziness washed over her. They continued on in silence, the distant sounds of the celebration fading behind them as they made their way through the darkened streets.

Anja felt a sudden surge of affection for the taciturn blonde at her side. Annie had always been there for her, even when she didn't deserve it.

Unable to help herself, Anja pulled Annie into a clumsy hug, ignoring the way the other girl stiffened in her embrace.

"You're a good friend." She mumbled into the smaller girl's shoulder; her words slightly muffled. "I don't tell you that enough, but it's true."

Annie was still as a statue in her arms. "You don't know what you're saying."

Anja pulled back, frowning, confused by the sudden sharpness in Annie's tone, she pushed her lightly. "Well, if you're counting that time you disappeared, I think that debt is already settled."

She placed a hand on her shoulder. "You've always been a good friend, I don't know why you try so hard to hide it all the time."

Annie looked away, her jaw clenching. "You give me too much credit," she said, her voice strained. "I'm not as good a person as you seem to think I am. I'm only looking out for myself."

"You keep repeating that like it was true...but that's not what I see."

Anja's voice grew more impassioned as she continued, her words spilling out in a rush. "You can be a prick sometimes, but that doesn't make you selfish. I've seen the way you look out for others, the way you push them to be better. You think I don't notice, but I do. It's one of the things I admire most about you, even if you try to hide it behind that cold mask of yours."

Annie flinched, her eyes flashing with a mix of pain and regret. "Stop," she said, her voice strained. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know me, not really."

Anja recoiled as if slapped, hurt and anger warring in her chest. "Don't I? I've been by your side for four years, Annie. I've seen the real you, the one you try so hard to bury. And it kills me that you can't see what I see - a loyal friend, someone who would do anything for the people she cares about."

Annie shook her head, her expression twisting into something raw and anguished. "You're wrong," she said, her voice cracking. "I'm not that person, I can't be… You couldn't possibly understand."

Anja's temper flared, frustration and alcohol loosening her tongue. "Then help me understand! Stop pushing me away, stop hiding behind these walls you've built. I'm here, Annie. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

For a moment, Annie wavered, something vulnerable and longing flickering in her icy blue eyes. But then her jaw clenched, her expression hardening into a mask of cold resolve.

"You're drunk, Anja," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. "You don't know what you're saying. Trust me, you're better off keeping your distance. From me, and from everyone else. In the end, we're all just looking out for ourselves. The sooner you learn that, the better."

Anja recoiled, felt as if the ground had dropped out from under her. "Is that really what you think?" she whispered, her voice small and lost."That we're all just in it for ourselves? Then why even bother with the Military Police?

"Are you going to give me that bullshit of not having a choice again, huh? Why not just run off and hide somewhere, if you really don't give a damn about anyone else?"

Annie flinched as if struck, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, for a moment it felt like those walls of hers would finally come crumbling down.But then Annie squared her shoulders, her expression shuttering like a door slamming closed.

"Maybe I should," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe it would be better for everyone if I just... disappeared."

Anja stared at her, a hollow ache blooming in her chest. "Fine," she said, her voice dull and lifeless. "Keep telling yourself that. But don't expect me to believe it. I know you, Annie Leonhart. Even if you don't know yourself."

A heavy silence fell between them, the weight of their words hanging in the air like a physical thing. Finally, Annie sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Come on," she said, her voice tired and strained. "Let's get you to bed before you fall over."

They walked the rest of the way in silence, Anja's muddled thoughts chasing themselves in circles. She felt raw and exposed, as if Annie had taken a scalpel to her heart and laid it bare. But beneath the hurt and confusion, a tiny spark of hope still flickered. Because even in the midst of Annie's cold denials, Anja felt like she had seen a glimmer of the truth.

---

The next morning, Anja woke to a pounding headache and a mouth that tasted like something had died in it. She groaned, burying her face in her pillow as memories of the night before came flooding back in mortifying detail.

"You idiot," she mumbled, her voice muffled by the fabric. "Why did I say that?"

She lay there for a long moment, wallowing in her misery, before the realization that she was alone in the barracks penetrated her foggy brain. She sat up with a jolt, wincing as the sudden movement sent a spike of pain through her temples.

Ymir, Sasha, and Christa's bunks were empty, the beds neatly made as if they'd been gone for hours. Anja's stomach dropped as she scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste.

She donned her uniform in record time, her fingers fumbling with the straps and buckles. A quick glance at her schedule confirmed her fear - she was late for her assignment, ODM gear maintenance.

Anja burst into the headquarters' workshop, her apology dying on her lips as she took in the scene before her. Armin and Mikasa looked up from their work, their expressions a mix of surprise and concern. An officer nearby grumbled about her tardiness but waved her off, muttering something about "kids these days" and "graduation night."

"Looks like you had a rough night," Armin teased as she joined them.

Anja groaned, rubbing her temples. "I think I forgot half of it."

"Well, at least you didn't try to climb the statue of the king and declare yourself the 'Queen of the Walls' like Ymir did," Mikasa said dryly.

Anja snorted. "Please tell me someone stopped her before she got too far."

"Connie and Christa managed to talk her down. Eventually," Armin said with a chuckle.

They continued working for a while, falling into a comfortable rhythm. The normalcy of the moment was a balm to Anja's frayed nerves, a welcome respite from the emotional turmoil of the night before.

But the peace was shattered when Annie entered the room, her posture tense but controlled. She scanned the workshop until her gaze landed on Anja.

"Anja, I need your help at the stables," she said, her voice steady despite the undercurrent of urgency.

Anja frowned, concern and confusion warring in her chest. "Is something wrong?"

Annie shook her head, her expression carefully neutral. "No, nothing to worry about. Just a minor issue that needs sorting out."

Anja hesitated, glancing at Armin and Mikasa. They looked just as bewildered as she felt. Mikasa's gaze lingered on Annie, a flicker of suspicion in her dark eyes.

"Go ahead," Armin said, his brow furrowed. "We can handle things here."

Anja nodded, setting down her tools and following Annie out of the workshop. The officer overseeing their work gave them a questioning look but didn't stop them.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Anja grabbed Annie's arm, forcing the other girl to slow her brisk pace.

"Annie, what's really going on?" she demanded, her voice low and urgent. "You're acting strange."

Annie's composure slipped for a moment, a flash of something raw and desperate in her eyes. "I can't... I can't explain right now. Please, just trust me."

Anja's frustration mounted, mingling with a growing sense of unease. Something was very wrong, she could feel it in her bones. But the pleading look on Annie's face, the way her fingers trembled against Anja's arm, made it impossible to refuse.

"Alright," she said, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "Lead the way."

They hurried through the streets of Trost, Annie's pace quickening with each step. Anja struggled to keep up, her head still pounding from her hangover.

"Did you mess something up? Did you forget to clean your gear again?" she panted, trying to lighten the mood. "If you forgot, I'm not taking the blame for you this time."

But Annie didn't respond, her gaze fixed ahead as if she could see something Anja couldn't. Anja's attempt at humor fell flat, swallowed by the suffocating tension that seemed to thicken the very air around them.

Suddenly, Annie stopped dead in the middle of the street, her eyes wide and haunted. Anja nearly ran into her, barely managing to catch herself in time.

"Annie, what-"

The rest of her question was lost in a sudden, earth-shattering boom. The ground beneath their feet shuddered, the cobblestones cracking and buckling as a shockwave ripped through the city.

Anja stumbled, nearly losing her footing. She looked up, her heart seizing in her chest as a massive, skinless face loomed over the wall, its eyes lifeless and cruel.

The Colossal Titan

Time seemed to slow, the world narrowing to a single, horrifying point. Anja felt the breath leave her lungs in a rush.

This couldn't be happening. Not again. Not here. Not yet.

She turned to Annie, desperate for an explanation, for some kind of reassurance. But the words died on her lips as she saw the expression on the other girl's face.

Annie stood frozen, her eyes wide and glassy with shock. But beneath the fear, there was something else... something like grim recognition, a quiet resignation.

"Annie?" Anja whispered, her voice small and lost in the sudden chaos.

But Annie didn't seem to hear her. She just stared up at the titan, her lips moving in a silent whisper.

The sound of crumbling stone filled the air, distant screams rising in a terrible chorus. The wall was falling once more.

And with it, the fragile peace they had all clung to for so long.

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Note: I've added some new things to Chapter 1 if you'd like to check them out, too. Don't forget to leave your thoughts and comments, I'd love to hear your feedback on the story.
Regarding the art in this chapter, it was done by me, drawing and photoshop.
Hope you're enjoying the read!

 

[Fran Gark]

Struggle for Trost

Chapter X: Kill Zone

---

The image of the Colossal Titan looming over Wall Maria reappeared in Anja's memory, a nightmare made flesh. She could still feel Heinrik's hand clutching hers as they stared up at the monstrous face, frozen in horror. The memory threatened to overwhelm her, but she shook it off, turning to Annie with urgency.

"We have to move!" Anja shouted over the rising chaos.

Annie nodded, her eyes still wide with shock. She turned as if to run, but then stopped abruptly, throwing out an arm to halt Anja's progress.

"Annie!" Reiner's voice cut through the panicked din of the crowd.

Annie flinched, her body going rigid. She turned to face Reiner, almost in defiance.

Reiner's brow furrowed as he closed the distance between them, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and concern. "Where were you? What are you doing here?"

Anja stepped forward, bristling at Reiner's accusatory tone. "What does it matter? We have to get back to headquarters now!"

Reiner seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, his jaw clenching. Then he exhaled sharply, his posture shifting as he reined in his emotions. "Right. We've got bigger problems. Let's go."

Annie fell into step behind Anja, her head bowed and shoulders hunched. Anja could practically feel the tension radiating off her friend, the way her fingers twitched despite her apparent calm.

A cacophony of chaos descended over the city, heightened by distant screams of terror. Anja looked up, her heart seizing as she realized the Colossal Titan had vanished. It had breached the wall and disappeared like a mirage, leaving only destruction in its wake.

"This is Shiganshina all over again," Anja whispered, dread coiling in her gut.

Reiner clapped a hand on her shoulder, his grip just a little too tight to be entirely reassuring. "Don't think about that now. We have to stand our ground."

Anja nodded jerkily, forcing her leaden feet to move. They pushed through the panicked crowds, the clanging of alarm bells and shouts of soldiers trying to direct the chaos, a discordant symphony in their ears. Fear etched onto every face they passed, but beneath it, Anja saw the grim determination in the soldiers.

Trost hadn't given up yet. They would fight to their last breath.

As if to punctuate that thought, the thunder of cannon fire erupted overhead, a percussive beat that seemed to shake the very stones beneath their feet. Anja saw soldiers zipping through the air on ODM gear, blades flashing in the smoke-hazed sunlight as they raced towards the front lines.

Maybe they stood a chance this time. If they could prevent the Titans from entering the city, if they could hold the line long enough, maybe they could keep the Armored Titan at bay...

The cannons continued their steady rhythm as Anja, Reiner, and Annie pushed against the crowds through the streets. Thick plumes of gunpowder and steam rose across the walls. Headquarters loomed ahead, a tall bastion nestled in the heart of the city. It was a hive of frantic activity. Soldiers rushed in and out like ants from a disturbed nest.

The constant hiss and clank of ODM gear filled the air, underlaid by barked orders of officers trying to wrangle the chaos.

Inside was no better. Multiple soldiers shouted over each other, their voices blending into an unintelligible cacophony. Shell-shocked cadets stood in clusters, some openly weeping, others staring blankly ahead as if still processing the nightmare unfolding around them.

Anja paused just inside the doorway, a sudden, terrible realization striking her like a physical blow. She cocked her head, straining her ears past the clamor.

"Why did you stop?" Reiner demanded, impatience sharpening his tone.

"I don't hear the cannons anymore," Anja said slowly, a leaden weight settling in her stomach.

Reiner cursed under his breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. "All the more reason to hurry. We're wasting time here."

Annie met Anja's gaze, something inscrutable flickering in her icy blue eyes before she looked away. She jerked her chin towards the milling soldiers, a silent 'let's go'.

Snatches of panicked conversation drifted past as they pushed deeper into the building.

"Where's Commander Pyxis?"

"We need those supplies at the front, now!"

"Send for reinforcements!"

Anja's attention was caught by a familiar mop of brown hair. She veered towards it, Reiner following close behind. Eren was surrounded by a knot of people, Mikasa and Armin at his side as always. Anja felt a rush of relief at seeing them unharmed.

"Eren was there," Armin said without preamble, his blue eyes wide and haunted. "At the wall, when it appeared."

Anja turned to Eren. "Are you alright?"

Eren nodded jerkily, his hands clenching into white-knuckled fists at his sides. "I was so close," he bit out, self-loathing and frustration warring in his voice. "It was right there, and I almost had it. But then it just...vanished."

He punctuated the last word by slamming his fist into the wall, the dull thud making Armin flinch.

Anja hesitated, almost afraid to ask. "Did you see the Armored Titan?"

Eren shook his head, his jaw tight. "No, but there were so many..." He swallowed hard, his eyes unfocused as if seeing it all again. "The cannons were holding them back when we left, but..."

He gestured vaguely. The cannons had fallen silent for a while now.

"Attention!"​

An officer's bellow cut through the din, commanding instant obedience. Anja straightened on pure reflex, eyes locking forward.

They assembled in the courtyard. The officer before them had sunken, haunted eyes, beads of sweat fell freely from his forehead. A thick brown beard covered his quivering lips.

"I want everyone split into four squadrons, just like in training," he barked, his hawkish gaze sweeping over the soldiers.

"You will be our last line of defense. All squadrons will be responsible for supply running, message relay, and combat. The vanguard will be led by the intercept squad. Cadets, you will make up the middle guard under the support squad. The garrison elites will hold the rear. Defend your positions at all costs."

"The advance team has been wiped out," the officer continued grimly, each word falling like a hammer blow. "The outer gate has fallen. Titans have breached the city. It is only a matter of time before the Armored Titan appears. And when it does...the inner gate will be lost."

Anja felt like she'd been doused in ice water, a chill racing down her spine. This was really happening. The nightmare that had loomed over them, plagued them for years, was a reality once more.

The officer leveled them all with a stare that could cut glass. "Vanguard, be ready to move out. You will be facing the highest concentration of enemies. All of you, your mission is simple: defend the city until the evacuation is complete. Desertion is punishable by death. Lay down your lives if you must. Dismissed!" With that, the officer quickly retreated, followed by his aides.

A beat of stunned silence, the weight of their duty settling over them like a shroud. Then the spell broke, soldiers scattering like leaves in a gale as they rushed to their positions.

Anja turned to her friends, trying to memorize their faces, to etch this moment into her mind. This could be the last time she ever saw them. The thought clogged her throat, pressing down on her chest until she could scarcely breathe. No, she shook her head, burying that away. She clung desperately to hope.

She wanted to say something, anything. A joke to break the tension, a heartfelt confession, a promise to see them on the other side. But the words wouldn't come.

In the end, all she could do was nod, infusing that small gesture with all the things she couldn't say. Eren met her gaze, his green eyes blazing with the same fire that had always driven him. Mikasa inclined her head, calm and resolute as ever.

Armin stared forward, his body visibly shaking. Anja offered her hand, but it had no effect on him.

"We've got this," Reiner said firmly, quiet conviction thrumming in his voice. "Stick to the plan, watch each other's backs. We'll get through this."

Anja nodded, drawing strength from his steadiness. She glanced at Annie, trying to catch her eye, to offer some form of reassurance. But the other girl wouldn't meet her gaze, her eyes distant. Annie left straight towards the armory, followed closely by Bertholdt and Reiner.

With a final, fortifying breath, Anja turned to follow them. She would do everything in her power to fight for all she held dear.

The armory buzzed with activity, soldiers hurrying to gather their gear and weapons. Rows of blades gleamed in the dim light, gas canisters lined the shelves, and the smell of oil and metal hung heavy in the air.

Inside, Annie was flanked by Bertholdt, adjusting the belts of her gear. Her face held no apparent emotion, but it was as pale as snow. Anja remembered how earlier Annie had come looking for her. Unanswered questions packed away in the back of her mind. What did she want? It had to be important.

Anja approached the tables sorted with equipment, her fingers deftly checking over her ODM gear with the ease of long practice. She looked over towards her friend, who was already testing the weight of her blades.

"What got into you earlier?"

Annie's jaw tightened, her gaze fixed straight ahead. "It doesn't matter now, Anja."

Anja opened her mouth to press further, but the weight of Reiner's gaze stopped her. She could feel his eyes boring into her back.

"Is something wrong between you two?" Reiner asked, his tone cautious.

Anja shook her head, brushing off his concern. "Just asking a question," she said, her voice clipped.

Annie didn't respond, her focus solely on her gear. The tension in the air was thick, a palpable weight pressing down on them. Bertholdt shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting between the two girls.

Reiner cleared his throat, breaking the uneasy silence. "Now's not the time for distractions. None of us can afford to lose focus. The mission comes first, you heard the Captain. There will be plenty of time for talking once this is all over."

Anja bit back a retort, frustration simmering beneath her skin. But before she could say anything more, a sharp voice cut through the tension.

"Cadet Wolf! Over here. You'll be part of Squadron 19. Get ready to move out in five." It was a Garrison soldier, his face grim and weathered.

Anja snapped to attention, her fist thumping against her chest in a crisp salute. "Yes, sir!"

She quickly secured her gas canisters, their weight reassuring against her thighs, the supple leather of the harness creaking as she adjusted the straps. Anja selected her blades, slotting them into the hilts with a satisfying click. She turned back to her friends, trying to infuse her voice with more confidence than she felt. "Just be careful out there."

Reiner nodded, something like approval glinting in his eyes. "Same to you."

Anja gave Annie a final, lingering look, trying to convey all the things she couldn't say. The blonde's face remained inscrutable, her icy blue eyes betraying nothing. With a heavy heart, Anja turned and jogged towards her assigned squad, her pulse quickening with each step.

---

Squadron 19 gathered outside, a tense but determined air hanging over the small group. Anja was glad to see familiar faces. Marco stood at the head, his freckled face set in lines of concentration as he surveyed his team. Connie fidgeted with the straps of his gear, his usually playful demeanor subdued. Hannah and Franz, the inseparable couple, huddled close together, drawing comfort from each other's presence.

Franz was tall and lanky, with a buzz cut and laughing brown eyes that now held a glimmer of uncertainty. Hannah, petite and delicate, leaned into his side, her round face pale beneath its smattering of freckles. Anja didn't know them well, but their devotion to each other was clear.

Anja fell in beside them, trying to ignore the twisting knot of apprehension in her gut. The distant booms of the cannons and the occasional ground-shaking footsteps of the Titans were a constant reminder of the hell that awaited them. From afar, she could only make out the giants' heads, most hidden behind the buildings.

An officer stood before them, an older man with a receding grey hairline and the typical beer belly that could be found amongst many of the almost-retired Garrison officers. Though he wasn't entirely out of shape, his appearance didn't exactly inspire confidence. The cadets exchanged uneasy glances.

"Follow me," the officer said, his voice gruff. "You'll be reinforcing our position. Stay close and do as I say, and we might just make it through this."

He led them deeper into the city, the hiss of their gear echoing in the eerie stillness. They moved along the rooftops, the officer pushing ahead of them. Anja's eyes kept constant vigil, jumping at any sort of movement. But the streets were deserted, the only sounds were the constant clink of their gear and the rasp of their breath.

"It's too quiet," Connie muttered, his eyes darting nervously.

"This is it," the officer said as he landed , gesturing towards a forked road below them. An improvised barricade had been set up with upturned carts. Two cannons guarded the street, aiming at the intersection.

The grizzled officer glanced back, his weathered face set in a reassuring smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Don't be afraid, cadets. You trained for this. Stay behind us and cover our rear. If you spot any Titans, give us a heads up and we'll handle them. I don't want any of you dying on my watch."

They all nodded, some more hesitantly than others. Marco stepped forward, his voice steady despite the tension that permeated the air. "Shouldn't we get closer, sir?"

The officer waved off his concern with a confidence that seemed only slightly forced. "Relax, there's no need. We've got this covered. See this intersection?" He pointed down with his blade. "It makes for a perfect kill zone. No Titan will get through as long as we have ammo. The only way they can come up on us is from behind, so stay sharp and be ready to fall back if we give the order."

As if on cue, a shout rang out from ahead, urgent and commanding. "Titan approaching! Cannons, load!"

The cadets watched, equal parts awed and terrified, as the Garrison soldiers burst into motion. They scrambled to their positions, manning the cannons with speed. It was clear they hadn't been slacking off these past five years.

A 7-meter Titan lumbered into view, its grotesque mouth open, eyes alight with hunger as it reached towards them with grasping fingers. Anja's breath caught in her throat, her hands tightening convulsively around the grips of her blades.

The officer descended, taking point behind the two cannons. "Take aim!"

"Fire!"

The cannon belched smoke and flame, the sound deafening in the narrow street. The shot tore through the Titan's face, obliterating half its head in a spray of steam and ichor.

But still, it kept coming.

"How are we supposed to fight those things?" Hannah whispered, her voice trembling with barely restrained panic.

Franz gripped her hand, his knuckles white. "Don't worry. I'll protect you."

The cannons fired again, the barrage tearing into the Titan's leg. It stumbled, crashing to the ground a few dozen meters before them. The Garrison soldiers were on it in an instant, their blades flashing as they carved out its nape with ruthless efficiency.

The officer turned back to the watching cadets, a fierce grin on his face as he pumped his fist in the air. Marco let out a shaky laugh, relief lightening his tense features.

"They have a plan. We just need to hold out," He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as the others.

Connie elbowed Anja, a shadow of his usual impish humor glinting in his eyes. "At this rate, they won't leave any for us!"

Anja managed a smile, though it felt stiff and unnatural on her face. "We'll join in on the fun soon enough. Just try not to get that shiny bald head of yours bitten off." Despite her teasing words, she kept glancing back at the alleyways. The cadets had chosen their spot well; the buildings next to them were connected by passages too narrow for a Titan to fit through, at least not the large ones.

Another boom shook the ground, the cadets instinctively hunching their shoulders as the flash of the cannon lit the shadows. The soldiers were already hauling the smoking weapon around, taking aim at the next target.

"Looks like they've got another one!" Connie whooped.

But Anja wasn't listening. She felt the strange sensation that they were being watched, a prickle of unease running down her spine. She turned to look back at the alleys, the street, nothing. But her searching stopped when she glanced at Hannah, whose face had drained of color as she peered down the street behind them. "Um, guys? I think I saw—"

Her words were lost in a sudden, earth-shattering crash. Shards of brick and mortar sprayed through the air as a Titan burst through the building beside them, its grotesque body plowing through the wall like it was made of paper.

Time seemed to slow as Anja took in the sight. It had to be a 12-meter class, its disproportionately long arms swinging by its sides. But there was something strange about the way it moved, a jerky, twitching gait that set it apart from the lumbering motions of the other Titans.

It hit her then, a bolt of pure, icy dread. An Abnormal.

The Titan's blank eyes fixed on the cannon, drawn by the noise and movement. It let out a roar, the sound reverberating in Anja's chest, and charged.

"Look out!" Marco cried.

The Garrison soldiers were still facing the wrong way, focused on the Titans approaching from the intersection. They had no time to react as the Abnormal bore down on them, its speed belying its size.

Anja watched in helpless horror as the Titan's massive hand lashed out, faster than a striking snake. In one terrible swipe, it crushed one cannon like a tin can, sending shards of metal flying. The soldiers operating it disappeared in a spray of crimson, their screams abruptly cut short.

The remaining Garrison troops scattered, some bringing their blades to bear in desperate defense, others fleeing in pure, blind panic.

"We have to help them!" Anja cried, surging forward, but Marco grabbed her arm, holding her back.

"Don't. Look." His voice shook as he pointed.

Two smaller Titans were coming from the gap the Abnormal had made, cutting off the Garrison soldiers' desperate retreat. And there, at the intersection, another one lumbered into view.

Screams rent the air, high and terrible. Blood sprayed in arcs, painting the cobblestones. Limbs pinwheeled through the air, trailing streams of steam.

In seconds, the entire squad was gone, reduced to cooling chunks of meat and spreading pools of blood, crushed like insects.

Someone was yelling, the sound torn and raw. An unlucky soldier dangled from the Abnormal's mouth, still kicking feebly as it bit down. The smaller Titans gathered at its feet like gruesome children begging for scraps. The Abnormal's pale eyes settled on the cadets, gleaming with mindless hunger.

"Scatter!" Marco bellowed, his voice cracking with panic. "Fall back!"

Anja didn't remember deploying her gear. One moment she was standing frozen, the next she was airborne, the wind screaming in her ears as she hurtled away from the carnage. Beside her, Franz and Hannah moved in tandem, their faces matching masks of terror.

The Abnormal lurched after them, its arms swinging erratically. Anja saw its hand flash out, longer than a grown man was tall. Saw it close around Franz's cable, snapping it like thread.

He screamed as he was yanked backwards, his other cable tearing free from the wall with a tortured shriek of metal. For a single, crystallized instant, their eyes met—and then he was whipped through the air like a ragdoll, caught helplessly in the Titan's snare. His panicked screams pierced the air.

"Franz!" Hannah's scream was agonized, her voice cracking. She looked back frantically towards him.

He was still alive, kicking and flailing, his swords cutting wide arcs through the air.

"No!" The word tore from Anja's throat, raw and despairing.

She didn't think, didn't plan. She just moved. Her blades were in her hands, her body corkscrewing through the air as she launched herself at the Titan. She could hear Marco screaming at her to stop, could see Connie and Hannah's horrified faces as she flashed past.

Some small, analytical part of her mind registered the wrongness of the situation. The Titan wasn't even looking at her. Its dead eyes were fixed on Franz, on the struggling morsel in its grasp. It was as if she wasn't even there, no more than a gnat buzzing around it.

She swung, a scream of rage tearing from her throat. Her blades slashed out, aiming for the Titan's wrist. If she could just sever the tendons, make it drop Franz...

The blades hit the skin, barely scratching the surface. She gave herself a boost, trying to bury them deeper, but they shattered against the sudden strain, shards of metal flying away. Anja stared in disbelief at the ruined stumps, numb incomprehension crashing through her.

The cuts weren't deep enough, its flesh already mending.

The Titan's free hand swung towards her, almost lazy in its speed. Anja barely had time to register the danger before it slammed into her, a casual backhand that felt like being kicked by a horse.

She flew backwards, managing a half turn, the breath crushed from her lungs by the impact. Her shoulder and head took the brunt of the hit, cracking against a wall. Stars exploded across her vision, darkness crawling in at the edges. She couldn't hang on. She fell to the streets, her blood burning in her veins.

Through the ringing in her ears, the world strangely muffled and distant, Anja saw the Titan tip its head back. Saw Franz's legs kick frantically as he was lowered into that cavernous mouth. Heard his muffled screams, abruptly silenced by the crunch of teeth through bone.

A distant part of her registered the splash of crimson painting the Titan's chin, the way its throat bobbed as it swallowed. But it was all strangely abstract, like watching a play from far away.

She was helpless, crumpled at the base of the wall like a broken doll. Easy prey. Through her foggy vision, she could only see Franz's face, frozen in a rictus of horror as the Titan chewed without mercy.

Something shifted inside her then, a spark igniting in the depths of her being. A scream, primal and savage, fighting to tear free from her throat.

Heinrik...

She saw him then, his face superimposed over Franz's, contorted in agony as he was devoured. Was this how you died? She was helpless, it had all been for nothing. So much blood... Dripping from the monster's mouth, wetting the cobblestones below.

It was as if something was clawing its way out of her, shredding through muscle and sinew, fighting to break free of the confines of her flesh. Ravenous and ruthless, howling for blood.

The Titan turned to face her, her brother's half-eaten body still hanging limp from its mouth. Something like curiosity flickered in its dead eyes as they settled upon her, a mockery of human emotion.

Rage, incandescent and all-consuming, exploded through Anja's veins. It burned away thought and reason, leaving only the feral need to rend and tear.

A roar escaped her throat, guttural and inhuman. Her body coiled, muscles bunching as she prepared to spring. The Titan's hand loomed above her, reaching out to pluck her from the ground.

But Anja was already moving, faster than she'd ever moved before. Crimson fog crept at the edges of her vision as she launched herself at the Titan, a fresh pair of blades flashing in her hands.

She was moving on pure instinct. Her blades cleaved through the back of the Titan's legs like a hot knife through butter, sending it crashing to its knees. She didn't stop, couldn't stop. She hooked onto it and leapt, twisting in midair, and slashed out with all her strength.

The Titan's arm fell to the ground with a meaty thud, steam billowing from the stump. It roared in agony and rage, its remaining hand swiping at her, trying to crush her.

She dodged the grasping fingers, rocketing towards the Titan's face. It opened its maw in welcome. The half-eaten body that hung from its jaws fell, hitting the ground with a sickening crunch.

Anja flew straight into the Titan's open mouth, her blades drawn forward. They scraped against its teeth, the impact juddering up her arms. But she didn't feel the pain, didn't feel the hot blood sluicing over her hands, the razor-edged shards of her own blades slicing into her palms.

Its jaw snapped close like a trap, but she had already pierced up through the roof of the Titan's mouth, slicing the soft flesh parting cleanly, then diving straight into its nape. She carved through bone and muscle, letting out a scream of pure, unfettered rage that reverberated in the cavernous space, echoing against the monster's dying growls.

The Titan convulsed, its massive body going slack as it crumpled to the cobblestones. Anja rode it down, still hacking and slashing, painting the street red with its steaming blood.

She carved her way from the ruin of its neck in a spray of gore, drenched in blood, the hot, viscous fluid running into her eyes and already steaming away, filling her mouth with the coppery taste of slaughter.

Her chest heaved, ragged gasps tearing from her lungs. She looked down at her hands, shrapnel lodged in them, the steaming blood coating them to the wrist. Her blades were gone, shattered in the frenzy of her attack, nothing but useless hilts clutched in her white-knuckled grip.

Slowly, she raised her head, her eyes bloodshot, pupils blown so wide the green was nearly swallowed by black. She was shaking, her whole body vibrating with the force of the bloodlust singing through her veins.

She heard her name being screamed, the sound distant and muffled as if coming from underwater. Marco. Connie. Their voices high and desperate, begging her to stop, to come back.

But she couldn't.

More! Her body screamed, hungering—

A scream rang out over the thunder of her pulse, cutting through the crimson haze like a blade. Eren. His voice, raw with desperation and fury.

Anja surged to her feet, her head snapping around, seeking the source of the sound. She leaped from the Titan's body, her ODM gear carrying her in a swift, deadly arc towards the screams.

"Wait!" Marco's voice, pleading. Connie's, cracking with fear.

She was beyond hearing, beyond reason, heading at full speed towards Eren. The fog was back, drowning out everything but the siren song of slaughter, the thirst for blood. She flew through the streets, a deadly specter wreathed in steam and gore.

The world had narrowed to the pounding of her heart, the rush of blood in her ears, the searing need to kill.

A scream pierced the air, high and terrified. Her head snapped towards the sound, nostrils flaring, pupils blown wide. She launched herself towards the source, muscles coiling and releasing like a predator. She burst into a narrow street, where a scene of desperation and horror greeted her.

A figure, pressed against a wall, eyes wide and pleading. A Titan, looming over it, fingers etching towards its prey. The Titan's long brown hair hung in stringy curtains around its oversized head, its bulging eyes fixed on the cowering human with mindless hunger.

Anja slammed into the Titan like a cannonball, blades sinking deep into its flesh. It stumbled back from the force of the impact, twisting to face this new threat. It shoved her away, sending her flying into the middle of the street.

One of Anja's blades remained lodged in the Titan's body as she skidded to a stop, her remaining sword held at the ready. The Titan charged, its footsteps shaking the very stones beneath her feet.

At the last second, Anja leapt, using the Titan's momentum against it. Her blade sliced through its neck in a spray of steaming blood, nearly severing its head. The Titan crashed to the ground with her, its body already beginning to dissolve as Anja wrenched her other blade free from its disintegrating flesh.

She tore at the carcass, breaking free, heedless of the damage to her own body and gear. Her ODM gear creaked and groaned, the mechanisms straining under the brutal onslaught.

Another scream rent the air, another lure. Her head whipped around, blood dripping from her chin.

Something dangled from the grip of a large-mouthed Titan above. A leg, barely attached to a torso, exposed flesh and glistening bone visible through the shredded remnants of a uniform.

The scent of fresh blood filled Anja's nostrils, electrifying her veins with a thrill. She flew towards the Titan as it gnawed on its prize with a sickening crunch. The mangled body crumpled to the ground, discarded in favor of the new target.

The Titan lowered its gaze, its wide arms reaching out to grasp her. She fell right past it. Her ODM gear exploded, the abused mechanisms finally giving out under the strain.

She tumbled and rolled across the roof. For a moment, it seemed she might go over the edge—but she caught herself at the last second, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the tiles.

With a snarl, she ripped the deteriorated straps of her gear away, letting the ruined contraption fall to the streets below. Blades in hand, she charged the Titan on foot, a roar tearing from her throat.

The Titan's hand closed around her, crushing, constricting. Anja's blade flashed, slicing through flesh and bone. The severed hand fell away, and she clambered up the Titan's arm, using her blades like climbing picks.

It flailed and twisted, trying to throw her off, to grab her with its remaining hand. But Anja was relentless. She stabbed over and over, her blades growing duller with each frenzied strike, until they were little more than ragged pieces of metal.

She gouged and tore with what remained. Finally, with a shuddering groan, the Titan collapsed, its nape a ruin of pulped flesh.

Chest heaving, eyes wild, frantic.

The crimson fog lingered; bloodlust sang in my veins.

More to quench the endless hunger.

Movement, a wounded prey. My head snapped around, lips peeling back from gore-flecked teeth.

It dragged itself across the tiles. Some limbs were gone, chewed away, a trail of viscera and blood smearing behind it.

I stalked towards it, ruined blades hanging loose in my hands.

It froze, its entire body quaking as its wide, terrified eyes found mine. Its mouth moved, a soundless plea.

No mercy. Only hunger.

Blades flashed in a frenzy.

The screams climbed into shrieks, into choked, gurgling wails.

It thrashed and bucked, a hand scrabbling weakly at my face.

One final, wet crunch, it was over.

It lay still, its ruined chest a gaping crater, its face frozen in sweet terror.

But then its lips moved, a single word bubbling up through the blood and bile.

"...Monster..."​

The word pierced the fog in Anja's mind, a shard of clarity stabbing through the haze of carnage. She blinked, a tremor running through her blood-soaked frame.

The ruined blades slipped from her nerveless fingers as the pain hit, a tidal wave of agony crashing over her as the adrenaline began to fade. Her shoulder burned, dislocated and ravaged. Shrapnel peppered her face and hands, vicious shards of metal embedded deep in her flesh. The skin of her back was shredded, flayed open by glancing Titan teeth. Her legs, her arms, her entire body throbbed and screamed, a map of bleeding lacerations and contusions.

Anja staggered to her feet, a strangled moan tearing from her throat. Her mind reeled, trying to make sense of the slaughter.

Nac's face swam before her eyes, his body torn apart, his face frozen in terror and agony. She looked at the carcass of the steaming Titan nearby, confusion and horror warring within her. The pain made it hard to form any coherent thought.

Anja looked at herself, at the blood coating her skin, her clothes. So much blood, steaming and scarlet, some boiling away to nothing, some still clinging in tacky, congealing ropes or freely dripping wetting the tiles. The copper reek of it filled her nose, her mouth, until she thought she might choke on it.

Memories came in shattered fragments, disjointed flashes of blood and brutality.

Anja crumpled to her knees, retching and sobbing, pain and revulsion twisting her gut.

"Anja!"

Annie reached her first, her usually stoic facade crumbling as she took in Anja's battered state. Worry shone in her icy blue eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line as she knelt beside her. Reiner and Bertholdt were close behind, their faces uneasy.

Anja looked up through a veil of blood and tears, saw them staring at her, at the bloodbath surrounding her.

"What happened?" Reiner asked, his voice tight as he surveyed the scene. None of them fully understood what had transpired - they saw only Anja, broken and bloodied, the mangled remains of Nac Tius, and the steaming Titan corpse.

"I... I don't remember," Anja whispered, her voice trembling. She looked down at her hands, blood coating them, a growing sense of horror welling up inside her. Did I do this?

Annie gripped Anja's shoulders, forcing the other girl to meet her gaze. "Anja, look at me. You're hurt, badly. We need to get you out of here, to headquarters. Can you stand?"

Anja shook her head, a sob catching in her throat. "I can't... Annie, I think… I think I killed him... I'm a monster..."

"Stop that. We don't have time," Annie said firmly, her voice brooking no argument. "We'll figure this out later."

Reiner shifted uneasily, his brow furrowed. "Annie, we have to stick to the mission. We can't afford any distractions."

Annie rounded on him, her eyes flashing protectively. Before she could respond, Connie's voice rang out.

"Guys! Over here!"

Annie's gaze drifted briefly towards the sound, then settled back on Reiner. Her voice was low. "We can't just leave her. Not now."

Reiner hesitated, glancing between Anja and the distant sounds of battle. For a moment, it seemed as if he might argue further, but then his shoulders slumped, a look of annoyance crossing his face.

"Fine. But we need to move quickly. Bertholdt, help her, I'll see what is going on."

Together, they hauled Anja to her feet, supporting her weight between them. Anja cried out in pain, fresh tears streaking through the grime on her face.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm slowing you down. You should leave me..."

"Shut up," Annie said, her tone sharp. "We're not leaving you."

Anja sagged against them, her strength failing. She allowed herself to be half carried, each step an agony, each breath a battle.

They reached Nac's crumpled form. Anja flinched, turning her face away. Annie paused, then knelt and began to strip his ODM gear with brisk efficiency.

"What are you doing?" Bertholdt asked, his voice strained.

"She needs it more than he does," Annie replied shortly, already fitting the bloodied straps to Anja's battered frame.

Anja let her work, too numb to protest. Her mind was reeling, fragments of memory flashing behind her eyes. The Titan's grasping hand, Franz's screams, the taste of blood in her mouth...

She squeezed her eyes shut, a shudder running through her. She was afraid, terrified of the darkness lurking inside her, of what she might do if she lost control again.

Eren. She thought, her mind drifting to her missing friend. She had been looking for him, hadn't she? Before everything went wrong...

Slowly, painfully, they made their way towards the others. Reiner had moved ahead, speaking urgently with Connie.

"We're cut off," Reiner said grimly as they approached. "The way to headquarters is blocked."

Connie's eyes widened as he caught sight of Anja, his face paling. "Holy shit, Anja! What happened to you?"

Marco turned, his expression morphing from concern to horror as he took in her battered state."Anja, your injuries..."

Anja could only shake her head, the words sticking in her throat. How could she explain the inexplicable? The horror of what she had done.

Her gaze was drawn to the huddled forms of her fellow cadets, their faces etched with grief and shock.

Hannah wept uncontrollably, her sobs muffled against Marco's chest. Mina was curled into a ball, her shoulders shaking with silent tears.

And Armin...

Armin stood apart from the rest, his eyes wide and glassy, his face a mask of utter devastation. When he spoke, his voice was a broken whisper.

"Eren... Eren is dead."

The words hit Anja like a physical blow, driving the air from her lungs. She stared at Armin, uncomprehending, the world spinning around her as the full weight of their loss crashed down upon her.

Gone. Just like that.

It was happening all over again. She had failed... failed to protect the people she loved, just like with Heinrik, with her mother.

"Armin," Anja croaked, reaching towards him with a trembling bloodied hand. "I'm sorry... I tried to find him, I swear..."

But Armin seemed lost in his own world of grief, his gaze distant and haunted. He didn't even seem to register her presence.

Anja swayed on her feet, darkness tunneling her vision. Her wounds, the exhaustion, the shock of Eren's death... it was all too much.

She sagged in Annie's grip, her legs giving out beneath her. Annie lowered her gently, cradling her head in her lap.

"Stay with me, Anja," Annie pleaded, her voice threatening to break. "Don't you dare give up now."

Anja's eyelids fluttered, her gaze unfocused. "Annie... I'm scared," she whispered, her voice small and broken. "Am I... A monster?"

Annie smoothed Anja's blood-soaked hair back from her forehead, her touch gentle despite the urgency of the situation. She leaned in close, her icy blue eyes fierce with determination.

"Listen to me, Anja. You're not a monster. You're a survivor, just like me… We'll get through this together. I'm here for you now."

Her grip tightened on Anja's hand, as if she could anchor her to life through sheer force of will.

But Anja could barely hear her over the roaring in her ears. She stared up at the smoke-filled sky, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. In the distance, the Titans raged on, their footsteps shaking the earth, their roars mingling with the screams of the dying.

The world was fading away, the pain and grief and horror blurring into a distant hum.

"I need help!" Annie called out, her voice sharp with desperation. "She's losing consciousness!"

"...too much blood..."

"...need to stop the bleeding..."

"...Anja, stay with us..."

But Anja was slipping away, the darkness rising up to claim her. As she sank into oblivion, a single thought crystallized in her mind, sharp and clear amidst the chaos.

I failed you…. I'm sorry

And then there was only the void, freezing cold, endless and empty. With only the knowledge that she had failed kept her company, the thought that she let that darkness win.



Anja wondered, in that last moment of consciousness, if she would ever find her way back.



If she even deserved to.



The darkness swallowed her whole, and she knew no more.

 

[Nonesuch]

Another episode ending in our girl blacking out after wrecking herself? Ouch. Still, good stuff, OP. I can practically taste the heartbreak and horror oozing off my screen. Keep 'em coming.

Eager to find out what's lurking inside Anja. Who's to say there aren't any more weird bloodlines like the Ackermanns out there or maybe a different primordial wolf-parasite thing. I always found the world of AOT intriguing but a bit barren in terms of ancient lore and whatnot, so this should be interesting.

 

[Fran Gark]

Thank you for taking the time to leave a comment! I'm glad you're liking the story. There's still a lot of ground to cover but we'll get there. I hope you'll continue to enjoy Anja's journey.

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter XI: Resurrection

---

Cold. Empty. Void.​

I drifted, lost—a speck in the vast nothingness. Fragments of sensation, of memory, flickered at the edges of my mind, slipping away like wisps of smoke when I tried to grasp them.



A distant, echoing drip of water. Faint, irregular scratching. Voices, muffled and indistinct, echoed from somewhere far above. Or was it below? Directions were meaningless in this endless expanse.



I tried to call out, to scream, but my voice was swallowed by the void. Silence pressed in on me, suffocating and absolute.

Alone. Utterly, completely alone.



Heinrik? Mom? Anyone?​

But no one answered. No one came. I was adrift in a sea of darkness.

Tears streamed down my face, hot and stinging against my icy skin. The darkness pressed in on me from all sides, its intensity suffocating. I wanted to scream, to cry out, but my voice was lost, swallowed by the void.

"Anja! Wake up!"​

A voice distant, distorted, filtering down from above. I didn't recognize it, couldn't place the desperate, pleading tone. A lifeline thrown into the abyss.

I knew I should fight, should claw my way back to the light...to what? I couldn't remember. The light, the world above, it all seemed so distant, so unreal.

A part of me recoiled from the idea, fragments of blood and brutality surging through my mind, a monster lurking beneath my skin.

Maybe it was better to sink into this nothingness, to let the darkness take me and spare the world from it.

I hit bottom, my body colliding with a surface that felt like frozen stone. The impact jolted through me, a dull, distant pain from a million miles away.

Faint light flickered above me, little more than a pinprick in the void. It wavered and danced, tantalizingly out of reach.

I lay there, sprawled and shivering, fingers scrabbling against the unseen ground. Smooth, rounded shapes shifted and clattered beneath my hands.

A thick, cloying, metallic scent filled my nostrils. It coated my tongue, making my stomach heave.

Blood. I was surrounded by blood and death. A field of bones and ripped flesh, tattered remains of countless victims.

"H...elp... me... pl...ease..."​

The voice cut through the silence like a knife. The words were barely audible, a distant, distorted whisper that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. I twisted, straining to locate the source, but there was nothing—just the endless, empty void.

"I'm... sc...ared...h...elp"​

The voice came again, louder this time, more distinct. A woman's voice, achingly familiar, but warped and twisted, as if spoken through a mouthful of broken glass.

I looked around, my heart pounding. Nothing. A chill ran through my spine. As the darkness pressed in on me, thick and suffocating, I became aware of a presence—a sensation of something lurking just beyond the edge of my perception.

"Sc...ared... so... lone... why... leave...?"​

The voice was closer now, clearer, a screech that grated against my ears like metal on bone.

Then I saw it. A flicker of movement in the darkness, a shape coalescing out of the void itself. Vague, undefined, a shimmering, distorted mass at the periphery of my vision, never quite resolving into a solid form.

Red eyes pierced the gloom, fixed on me, alight with hunger.

"Help me!"​

A perfect, haunting replica of my own voice. It cried with desperation, so real, so visceral, that for a moment, I almost believed it was truly me.

The thing moved closer, bones crunching beneath it, circling me, prowling just out of reach. Fangs glinted in a too-wide mouth, a twisted smile promising nothing but hunger and destruction.

"Heinrik! Mom! Where are you? I'm lost!"​

The voice shifted, sliding into the high, innocent tones of a child, wailing. The words pierced my heart like jagged shards of glass.

I tried to back away, but my body was frozen, paralyzed by primal, instinctive dread. The creature's hand shot out, fingers elongating into razor-sharp claws, the flesh mangled and twisted, obsidian needles jutting from rotting, pulsing skin, piercing my chest, pinning me firmly to the freezing cold ground.

Pain exploded through my body, a searing agony that consumed me from the inside out. It felt like I was being flayed alive, my nerves stripped raw and bleeding. My screams trapped and strangled by the crushing pressure of the void.

"Mon...ster..."​

It hissed, the word garbled and distorted, a mockery of Nac's dying accusation that haunted her mind.

I shook my head frantically, tears streaming down my face, my chest heaving with panicked, gasping breaths. Red eyes bored into me, stripping me bare, as if it could peer into the darkest depths of my soul.

"Fail...ure..."​

It whispered, its voice sliding back into a perfect imitation of my own.

"Weak... help...less... every...one... dies... your... fault..."​

The creature's essence was seeping into me, filling me with a cold, oily darkness that sapped my will. Pain consumed me, white-hot and blinding, obliterating thought and reason and hope. The light above seemed to waver and dim, fading away into the darkness like a snuffed candle, leaving me alone with the nightmare made flesh.

"Let... me... in..."​

It rasped, its voice a grating, metallic scrape that set my teeth on edge.

"Give… More... Hunger…"​

The words guttural, an animalistic growl.

And then it was surging forward, those terrible jaws closing around my head a razor-sharp caress that promised only agony...

Screams muffled by the wet, choking darkness of its throat. I could feel its hunger, insatiable, mindless.

Then I was surging upwards, a scream tearing from my throat, my mind fracturing into a kaleidoscope of blood, madness and despair.

---

As Anja's consciousness slowly returned, the first thing she noticed was the searing pain that engulfed her entire body. It was a raw, pulsing agony that radiated from her back, as if someone had pressed a white-hot brand against her skin.

She groaned, her eyelids fluttering open, squinting against the harsh light that filtered through the haze of smoke and dust.

She was lying on a rooftop, the rough tiles digging into her battered flesh. The sky above was a sickly grey, a few birds circling overhead, their distant cries echoing in the eerie stillness. The air was heavy, choked with ash and the distant echoes of screams.

Anja's mind reeled, fragmented memories of the Abnormal, of Franz's final moments, her own loss of control, all jumbling together in a confusing, nightmarish blur.

She struggled to make sense of it all, to separate reality from the twisted visions that haunted her fevered mind.

With a grunt of effort, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, ignoring the white-hot lances of pain that shot through her at the movement. Her hand brushed against something cold and metallic, and she glanced down, her brow furrowing.

There, resting on her chest, was her brother's pendant. The one she always wore around her neck, Now, it was just lying there.

Anja's fingers, littered with cuts and stitches, closed around the pendant with difficulty, feeling the familiar weight of it in her palm.

The last clear thing she could remember was Annie's face, pale and pinched with worry, hovering over her as the world faded to black.

Annie. The others. Where were they? What happened?

Armin…Eren…He died. And I…I killed Nac…

Anja struggled to her feet, biting back a scream as her body protested the movement. She looked around, taking in her surroundings with a growing sense of dread.

The rooftop was deserted, save for the scattered debris and the ominous stains of blood that splattered the tiles. Was it her own blood? She couldn't be sure.

In the distance, she could see the smoldering ruins of buildings, the hulking, steaming corpses of fallen Titans. A trail of destruction, leading away from her current position and towards the distant shape of headquarters.

Anja's heart clenched, a cold, creeping fear washing over her. They had left her. Her friends, her comrades, they had abandoned her, left her behind to face this new nightmare alone.

But even as the thought crossed her mind, Anja noticed something else. The wounds on her back, the ones that had been bleeding, raw and gaping, when she lost consciousness... they were sealed now. Puckered and blistered, the skin around them angry and inflamed. The wound still felt burning hot, a constant, searing agony that pulsed in time with her heartbeat.

Someone had tried to help her. Someone had stopped the bleeding, had closed her wounds, had given her a chance to survive.

But why? Why bother, when she was nothing but a liability, a danger to everyone around her? When she had proven herself to be little more than a ravening beast?

The image of Nac's face, frozen in agony and terror, flashed before her eyes once more. Anja's stomach heaved, bile rising in the back of her throat. She doubled over, retching, tears and snot mixing with the blood and grime on her face.

She deserved to die. Deserved to be torn apart by the Titans, to suffer the same fate as the victims of her own savagery. It would be a fitting end, a just punishment for her crimes.

Anja staggered to the edge of the rooftop, her feet dragging, her body leaden with exhaustion and despair. She looked out over the ruined city, the smoke and ash obscuring the horizon, the distant roars of the Titans echoing in the stagnant air.

A bitter smile twisted her lips as a thought crossed her mind.

Maybe her friends had survived. Maybe they had escaped, had made it to safety. She hoped so, with every fiber of her being. They deserved to live, to be free of this hell that had consumed their world.

But she... she had no place among them. Not anymore. Not after what she had done.

Anja's hand drifted to the ruined blade at her hip, the metal warped and dulled, barely fit for combat. But still sharp enough, perhaps, to end it all. To put a stop to the monster.

She drew the blade, staring at it with hollow eyes. It would be so easy, to just let go. To take that final step into oblivion, to embrace the darkness that beckoned with such seductive promise.

Memories of that endless void, the suffocating darkness that had nearly consumed her, flashed through her mind. Her fingers trembled at the thought, a shudder running down her spine. She steeled herself, forcing the memories back, focusing on the present, on the weight of the blade in her hand.

But even as the thought crossed her mind, even as the blade kissed her throat, a whisper of pressure against her jugular... Anja hesitated.

It was the coward's way out, a small, stubborn voice whispered in the back of her mind. The easy path, the one that let her escape the consequences of her actions.

If she was going to die, it should be on her feet. Fighting, like the soldier she had always dreamed of being. Like the woman her brother had believed her to be.

With a growl of self-loathing, Anja lowered the blade, her hand clenching around the hilt. No. She would not go gently into that good night. If death was to claim her, it would be in battle, with the blood of her enemies on her hands and a scream of defiance on her lips.

Painfully, she made her way down from the rooftop, each step sending bolts of agony lancing through her battered frame. The borrowed ODM gear was not in the best shape, the straps torn and the mechanisms stuttering.

But she didn't need it. Not for this.

As her feet hit the ground, Anja heard a sound that sent a chill racing down her spine. The thud of heavy footsteps, the guttural groans of Titans on the hunt. Close, too close.

And then, she saw them. A group of Titans, huddled together in a narrow street, blocking her path forward. They were small, 3-4 meters at most, but in her weakened state, they might as well have been Colossi.

With a grunt of effort, Anja unbuckled her ODM gear, cannisters and scabbards, letting it all fall to the ground with a clatter. The extra weight was only slowing her down, and she needed every ounce of speed and agility she could muster.

Anja's grip tightened on her blade, her heart pounding in her ears. She could feel the familiar surge of rage and bloodlust rising up within her, the dark, primal urge to rend and tear and destroy. But she pushed it down desperately, forced it back with every ounce of willpower she had left.

She wouldn't give in to it.

"Come at me, you bastards!" Anja screamed, her voice raw and hoarse, barely recognizable to her own ears.

But the Titans didn't even spare her a glance, too focused on devouring the remains of the carcasses that littered the street. The scent of blood and decay was thick in the air.

Anja began walking towards them, clutching her ruined blade so tightly that the wounds on her fingers reopened, fresh blood mixing with the dried and flaking on her hands.

"Face me!" she roared, desperation and fury warring in her voice.

This time, the Titans seemed to take notice. They turned their heads slowly, almost lazily, as if mildly curious about the small, screaming creature that dared to challenge them.

Then, with a series of grunts and groans, they began to lumber towards her, their grasping hands reaching out, their gaping maws stretched wide in anticipation.

Anja's heart thundered in her chest, fear and adrenaline coursing through her veins. But she refused to back down, refused to show even a hint of the terror that clawed at her insides.

With a shaking hand, she grasped her brother's pendant, feeling the cool metal against her palm. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, drawing strength from the memories it evoked - Heinrik's laugh, his fierce protectiveness, his unwavering belief in her.

Then, with a deep breath, Anja opened her eyes, fixing her gaze on the approaching Titans. She adjusted her grip on her blade, both hands wrapping around the hilt, ignoring the way her wounds screamed in protest. Her body coiled like a spring, every muscle tensed and ready.

She was afraid, more afraid than she had ever been in her life. But in that moment, staring down death in the face of the monsters that had haunted her nightmares for so long, Anja felt a strange sense of calm settle over her.

This was it. This was how she died. Alone, broken, torn apart by the Titans. But she would go down fighting, to her very last breath.

With a wordless scream of defiance, Anja charged forward, her blade held high, ready to meet her fate head-on.

But before she could close the distance, before her blade could taste Titan flesh, the ground shook with a sudden, tremendous force. Anja stumbled, nearly losing her footing, as a shadow fell over her, vast and looming.

Her war cry died in her throat as a Titan barreled past her, a roar splitting the air, a sound of such raw, primal rage that it shook Anja to her very core. The Titan slammed into the others, sending them flying like ragdolls, their bodies crashing into buildings and skidding across the blood-slicked stones.

Anja stared, her eyes wide, her heart seizing in her chest. This Titan was massive, easily 15 meters tall, with shaggy dark hair and blazing green eyes that seemed to burn with an almost human intensity.

She watched, transfixed, as it tore into the other Titans with a savagery that bordered on gleeful. Fists pounded, teeth tore, steam and blood spraying the air as the rogue Titan ripped its kin to shreds with a single-minded ferocity.

Anja couldn't believe what she was seeing. A Titan, fighting other Titans? It was unheard of, impossible. And yet, here it was, right before her eyes, battling with a skill and intelligence that was chillingly, unnervingly familiar.

As the last of the Titans fell, the rogue turned towards her, its chest heaving, its eyes blazing with that fierce determination. And in that moment, as their gazes locked across the carnage-strewn street, Anja felt a shock of recognition jolt through her like a lightning bolt.

Those eyes... She would know them anywhere. That bright, burning green, so vivid and alive against the Titan's monstrous visage. There was only one person they could belong to.

And as she watched, as the rogue dispatched the last of the Titans and turned towards her, its chest heaving, its eyes blazing with a familiar light, that spark of fierce determination ... Anja felt a shock of recognition jolt through her.

"Eren?" The name tore from Anja's throat, half-question, half-desperate plea. She staggered forward, her hand outstretched, her brother's pendant dangling from her trembling fingers.

But the Titan, Eren, gave no sign that it had heard her. With a final, earth-shattering roar, it turned and charged away, disappearing into the smoke and ruins as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Anja standing alone in the middle of the devastated street.

"Wait, come back!" she called after him, her voice cracking, tears stinging her eyes. But Eren was already gone, vanished into the haze of destruction, leaving only questions and a fragile, flickering hope in his wake.

Anja stood there for a long moment, her mind reeling, trying to process the impossible truth of what she had just witnessed. Eren was alive. Somehow, against all odds, he had survived, had become something more...

If he could come back from the ashes of this nightmare… Maybe, just maybe, they stood a chance. Maybe the tide of this battle could be turned, maybe Trost could be saved.

She had to find the others, had to warn them about Eren, about the miracle this represented. She had no idea how they would react, if they would see him as a savior or a threat. But she had to try, had to reach them before it was too late.

Leaving Anja alone once more. Alone, but alive. Alive, and with new flicker of hope kindling in her chest, a tiny spark that refused to be extinguished.

With fumbling hands, Anja strapped her gear back on, gritting her teeth against the fresh wave of pain that washed over her as the straps dug into her wounds. She checked the gas canisters, dismay twisting in her gut as she realized how little was left. It wasn't even enough to get her to headquarters.

She couldn't afford to waste a single drop, couldn't risk using the gear unless absolutely necessary.

Anja knew her only chance was to either scavenge more gas from her fallen comrades or make it to headquarters on foot. That was her only chance to get a refill; if any of the others were still out there, they would have fallen back to the walls.

Gripping her brother's pendant tight, feeling its solid weight anchoring her to the present, to the mission at hand, Anja set off in the direction Eren had gone. She followed the trail of destruction he had left in his wake, the shattered buildings and steaming Titan corpses a grim bread crumb trail leading towards the distant silhouette of headquarters.

Her progress was slow, agonizing. But Anja pushed on with unwavering determination, driven by a desperate need to reach her friends, to make sure they were safe, holding on to the impossible hope that Eren's return could be their saving grace.

As she limped through the ravaged streets, the extent of the devastation became increasingly clear. It wasn't just Titans that littered the blood-soaked cobblestones. Here and there, Anja caught glimpses of fallen soldiers, their bodies broken and mangled, strewn about like discarded dolls.

She tried not to look too closely, tried to block out the faces, the sightless eyes staring accusingly at the smoke-choked sky. But one in particular caught her gaze, stopped her dead in her tracks.

It was Hannah.

Or rather, what was left of her. Half of the girl's body was simply gone, devoured by some Titan's grasping maw. What remained hung limply from her ODM gear, suspended in midair like a grotesque puppet, one remaining eye wide and glassy with unshed tears.

Anja stared, bile rising in her throat, tears blurring her vision. She hadn't been close with Hannah, had barely spoken more than a handful of words to the girl during their training. But seeing her like this, so brutally ripped away from life, from the future she had barely begun to grasp... it hit Anja like a punch to the gut, drove home the cruel, senseless waste of it all.

With a shaking hand, she reached out, gently cutting Hannah's body free from the entangling wires of her gear. Anja lowered her to the ground, arranging her as respectfully as she could, trying not to look at the ragged edges of torn flesh, the stark white of exposed bone.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, the words feeling hollow, inadequate. "I'm so sorry. But I swear to you, your death will mean something. We'll make it mean something."

Blinking back tears, Anja forced herself to focus, to push past the grief and horror and keep moving forward. She quickly checked Hannah's gear, her heart sinking as she realized the gas canisters were nearly as depleted as her own. But it was still more than she had, and every little bit counted.

Anja carefully detached the canisters, hooking them to her own gear with fumbling, blood-slicked fingers. She hesitated for a moment, then reached for Hannah's blades as well, sliding them from their sheaths with a metallic rasp that seemed obscenely loud in the eerie quiet.

They were clean, the edges keen and sharp. Hannah had never even had a chance to use them.

With a heavy heart, Anja pushed on, the added weight of the gas and blades a reassuring presence at her sides.

As Anja swung closer to headquarters, the true scale of the battle unfolding became horrifyingly clear. The building was surrounded by Titans, a seething mass of grasping hands and gnashing teeth, it could only mean one thing: someone was still trapped inside.

And there, in the midst of the chaos, was the rogue Titan. Eren. He moved with a savage grace, his massive fists smashing through flesh and bone, his roars rattling the very foundations of the city.

But even he was only one against many, and Anja could see the tide of Titans threatening to overwhelm him.

She was in no state to fight, but she had to get inside, find anyone that could help - her friends, hopefully - and pray that they were still alive and willing to believe what she was going to tell them.

Anja scanned the building, her heart in her throat, searching for a way in. The main entrances were blocked, choked with rubble and writhing Titan bodies. But there, high up on the third floor, a shattered window gaped like an open wound, the glass glittering in the ashen light.

It was a risky shot, especially with her gear running on fumes. But it was her only chance.

With a deep breath, Anja launched herself off the rooftop, aiming for the window with every ounce of skill and precision she possessed. She felt the cables straining, the mechanisms sputtering and wheezing as they struggled to compensate for her weight and velocity.

For a heart-stopping moment, Anja thought she wasn't going to make it. That she'd miscalculated, that she'd fall short and go plummeting to her death, just another broken body littering the blood-soaked streets.

But then, with a final, desperate burst of gas, she crashed into the wall of the building, her gear latching onto the stone with a screech of metal.

All she had to do was reel herself in… With a sickening lurch, the gas sputtered out and died. Anja's eyes widened as she felt the cables go slack, the mechanisms grinding to a stop.

"Now?!"

She fell, desperately trying to cling to the cables, but she didn't have the strength to hold on. She hit the ground hard, the impact driving the air from her lungs, every bone in her body seeming to rattle with the force of it.

Anja lay there, stunned and gasping, black spots dancing across her vision. She could taste blood in her mouth, trickling down her chin.

Titans were coming, drawn by the noise, by the promise of fresh meat. Anja could hear them, feel the ground shake with their approach.

She staggered to her feet, biting back a scream as her injuries made themselves known with a vengeance. Her vision swam, the world tilting and spinning around her, but she blinked it away with stubborn determination.

Anja quickly scanned her surroundings, looking for a way into the building as the Titans closed in. Her eyes landed on a broken window and without hesitation, she threw herself at it, ignoring the sharp edges that tore at her clothes and skin.

For a brief moment, relief washed over her as she tumbled into the building. But it was short-lived. A Titan's hand burst through the shattered remnants of the window, its grasping fingers missing her by mere inches. Anja scrambled back, her blade flashing out, slicing through the Titan's fingers. The monster roared in pain, but did not relent.

Anja found herself in a storage room, cluttered with crates and barrels. The Titan, a 3-meter class, was squeezing its bulk through the window frame, the wood and stone cracking and splintering under its weight.

Anja scrabbled for her blades, her hands shaking, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The Titan, managed to force its way in, its massive bulk scraping against the frame, sending splinters of glass and wood billowing into the air.

She backed away, her eyes darting around the room, searching for an escape.

There! A door!

She lunged for it, her hand closing on the handle, but it wouldn't budge. She pushed, tried to pry it, but it was stuck fast. She was trapped like a rat in a cage.

The Titan threw itself at her, its mouth gaping. Anja ducked under its grasping hands, her blade sinking into its belly. The Titan's flesh parted like rotten fruit, steaming blood sluicing over her hands, her face.

But still, it kept coming, its recently stubbed fingers scrabbling at her, trying to pluck her from the floor.

Anja stumbled back, her boots slipping in the gore. The Titan advanced, its weight making the wooden floor groan and crack. She slid her blade up, with all the strength she had left, carving a deep furrow up the Titan's chest, managing to wrench herself out of the way.

The Titan's momentum carried it forward, its massive body crashing down onto the weakened floor. The wood splintered and gave way, unable to bear the creature's weight, taking down the door with it. A deafening crash echoed as the Titan fell through, Anja's blade was sitll lodged in its chest, the force of the fall slid the already battered Titan in half.

She stood there at the edge of the gaping hole, steam rising from it, gasping for breath, her whole body shaking. But she couldn't stop, not now. Eren was still out there.

She gathered her wits and made her way around the jagged edges of the hole, carefully avoiding the twisted, splintered boards that jutted out like teeth.

She stumbled into a hallway, one hand braced against the wall for support, leaving a smear of blood in her wake. The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, each step an eternity of pain and effort.

An explosion rang out, the sound deafening in the enclosed space. Anja flinched, instinctively trying to make herself a smaller target. It took her a moment to realize it was a gunshot, the noise still echoing in her ringing ears.

She rounded the corner and found herself face to face with a small group of cadets, their faces pale and strained in the dim light. They had blocked the corridor, guarding the hallway with rifles clutched white-knuckled in shaking hands.

One of them, a young man with wide, terrified eyes, had his gun trained directly at Anja, the barrel still smoking. He'd fired the shot, she realized dimly. He'd nearly taken her head off.

"What's going on?!" someone shouted, their voice high and tight with fear and confusion.

Familiar faces appeared from around the corner - Annie, Connie, and a few others she recognized from the 104th. They were all on high alert, their expressions tense and wary.

But when their eyes landed on Anja, their faces morphed into masks of pure, unadulterated shock. It was as if they were seeing a ghost, a specter risen from the depths of their worst nightmares.

Annie's eyes were wide, her mouth slack, her usual composure completely shattered. "...Anja?" she breathed, the name falling from her lips like a disbelieving whisper.

Connie was the first to find his voice, his words echoing the sentiment plain on all their faces.

"No fucking way."
/
/
/
Note: Sorry if the chapter is a bit shorter than usual, hope you enjoyed the read! If you've got the time don't forget to leave your thoughts, let me know what you liked and didn't like, what you'd like to see in future chapters, all feedback is appreciated. Thank you!

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter XII: Dissonance

---

A trail of blood snaked its way down the rooftop, each crimson drop a mocking reminder of the life that hung in the balance. Anja lay at the center of a desperate flurry of activity, her friends clustered around her broken body, their hands slick with her blood as they fought to stem the relentless tide.

Reiner stood at the edge of the roof, his gaze fixed on the Titans gathering below, drawn by the scent of fresh prey. "We can't stay here for long," he said, his voice low and urgent. He glanced at Bertholdt, a silent communication passing between them.

Armin and Hannah huddled in, their faces pale and shocked. Mina's grey eyes stared into the distance, haunted, fixed on the distant figure of a bloodied corpse, mangled and disfigured.

-​

"There's too much blood!" Sasha cried, her voice high and thin with panic. She pressed down on the gaping wound in Anja's back, her hands trembling violently.

Marco knelt beside her, his face ashen as he tore off his jacket sleeves, already soaked crimson. "We need to stop the bleeding! Someone make a fire!" he ordered, his voice cracking with desperation.

Annie cradled Anja's head in her lap, icy blue eyes wide and desperate as she brushed blood-matted hair from her friend's pale face. "Anja, stay with us," she pleaded, her usually stoic facade crumbling like shattered glass.

Anja's eyes fluttered, unfocused and glassy. Her breaths came in shallow, rattling gasps, each one a Herculean effort.

"Come on, Anja! Fight!" Sasha begged, tears cutting tracks through the grime on her face.

But Anja was slipping away, her skin growing colder by the second. Annie held her close, as if she could anchor her to life through sheer force of will.

And then, with a final, shuddering exhale, Anja went still.

Her chest ceased to rise, her pulse fading to nothing beneath their blood-slicked fingers.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the hitching sobs of those left behind.

"She's... she's not..." Sasha whispered, her voice small and lost.

Connie pounded on Anja's chest, tears streaming down his face as he tried to force life back into her unresponsive body. "Breathe, damn it!" he cried, his voice raw with grief. "Breathe!"

"Make some space!" Marco commanded, a heated blade in his hand. With Annie's help, he pressed the searing metal to Anja's wound, the sickening sizzle of burning flesh mingling with the scent of blood.

Annie worked frantically, breathing into Anja's mouth, pumping her chest in a desperate attempt to restart her heart. "Wake up," she begged, her voice breaking. "Wake up, Anja! Please!"

But it was too late. Anja lay silent and still, the light gone from her eyes, her skin rapidly cooling. The truth settled over them like a suffocating shroud, heavy and inescapable.

"Annie," Reiner said, his voice leaden but laced with grim determination. "She's gone. We still have a mission to accomplish. There are more Titans coming."

Annie barely heard him, the world narrowed down to the lifeless body of her friend. A single tear slipped down her cheek, splashing onto Anja's ashen skin.

"We can't just leave her here!" Sasha cried, her voice rising in panic.

"We have no choice!" Jean shouted, his face twisted with grief and fear. "If we stay, we'll all end up dead!"

With trembling fingers, Annie unclasped the pendant from around Anja's neck, the metal still warm from her skin. She pressed it into Anja's limp hand, curling her fingers around it, she looked as if she were merely sleeping.

"I'm sorry,"

"I'm so sorry."

A final drop of blood welled from Anja's fingertip, trembling for a moment before falling to splash against the weathered pendant's surface.

---

Anja's fingers clutched the pendant tightly, the metal digging into her palm. She stared at her friends, their faces a mix of shock, disbelief, and horror, the truth of her impossible survival hanging in the air like a physical thing.

It all felt like one of her nightmares, and she was half-convinced she'd wake up at any moment. The world seemed to tilt around her, the line between reality and delusion blurring into an incomprehensible haze.

"I... don't..." Anja stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jean's eyes narrowed as he took in her battered and bloodied form. "You were dead," he said bluntly. "We all saw it. You weren't breathing. How the hell are you here right now?"

Anja leaned heavily against the wall, her breath coming in short, painful gasps. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice raw and hoarse. "I don't understand any of this…It can't be…"

Am I going insane?

The building shook, dust raining down from the ceiling as a piercing scream rent the air. The Rogue Titan's roar echoed through the streets, locked in a brutal battle with its own kind.

"It's going to wreck this place," Reiner said, urgency sharpening his tone. "We have to move."

She shook her head, desperation clawing at her insides. Perhaps she had merely imagined its familiar eyes. But the others could see it too, fighting furiously outside. Perhaps she had deluded herself, seeing something that wasn't there.

The image flashed through her mind—the Rogue Titan's blazing green eyes, the way it fought to protect her. She couldn't shake the overwhelming certainty that had taken root in her heart. She couldn't just ignore the thought.

"Wait! You have to hear me out," she pleaded, her voice rising above the chaos. "That Titan out there, it's Eren."

Her words were met with a ripple of confusion and disbelief, the other cadets exchanging wary glances and murmurs of doubt.

Armin's face paled, his voice strained. "What are you talking about? Eren... Eren is gone, Anja. I saw it happen. A Titan swallowed him whole."

Anja shook her head vehemently, her eyes desperate. "No, listen to me! He saved me. Look at him, his eyes... He's fighting the others, helping us. It's Eren! I know how it sounds, but you have to believe me."

Jean's patience snapped, his voice cutting through the clamor. "Enough! We don't have time for this. You're imagining things. We can't waste a second here. That thing outside is our window to escape. We have to get to the supply room now, refill, and haul ass before they tear this place apart."

Most of the cadets murmured in agreement, their faces grim and determined as they began to move towards the door.

Anja's heart sank, "I know what I saw, Jean. That is Eren!"

Jean rounded on her, his eyes flashing with anger. "Listen to yourself, goddamnit! You're telling us that he is a Titan? The same Eren who Armin saw being eaten?"

His words struck a chord, and Anja fell silent, doubt creeping into her mind. How could she expect them to believe something so outlandish, especially when so many lives hung in the balance?

Jean's gaze swept over the group, his voice hard and unyielding. "Too many died to make it here. So, either help or get out of the way."

With that, he turned and strode towards the door, most of the cadets following in his wake.

Only a handful remained: Mikasa, Armin, Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt. Anja felt a flicker of hope at the sight of them, desperately clinging to the belief that they might understand.

Mikasa stepped forward, her dark eyes intense and focused. "That Abnormal saved me too. At the very least, it might just help us. And if there's even the slightest chance that it could be Eren..."

Her words trailed off, but it was enough to bolster Anja's resolve.

Armin looked torn, his gaze darting between Mikasa and Anja. "I... I don't know, Mikasa. I saw him die. But..." He glanced at Anja, his expression pained. "If you believe that... But Jean is right. We don't have much time. Without that gas, we're as good as dead."

Reiner frowned, his brow furrowed in thought. "Anja, this Rogue Titan... How do you know it's Eren? How can you be so certain?"

"I could tell by his eyes...I… I just know it's him, Reiner. I can feel it."

Jean scoffed from the doorway, his expression incredulous. "Reiner, don't encourage her fantasies. Come on, I need your help."

Reiner sighed, his expression softening with sympathy. "Anja, I know you've been through a lot, but what you're saying... it's just not possible. Pull yourself together."

He turned to follow Jean and the others, Bertholdt trailing silently in his wake.

Annie stood frozen, her icy blue eyes in disbelief as she stared at Anja. As if she were seeing a ghost. Her usually composed facade cracked, revealing a flicker of raw, unguarded emotion.

Annie hesitated to follow, her gaze flickering between Anja and the departing cadets. She took a step towards the door, but Anja's hand shot out, gripping her wrist weakly.

"Annie… You believe me, right?" Anja's voice was pleading, desperate for someone to understand.

"I--" Annie stammered, her words catching in her throat. She looked torn, caught between the impossible truth of Anja's survival and the urgency of the moment.

"Let's go, no use in standing around." Reiner's voice echoed from the distance, already by the door.

With a nod, Annie centered herself and followed after Reiner, Mikasa close behind. But not before casting one last, lingering look at Anja, a silent promise that this wasn't over.

Armin and Anja lagged behind, following the others at a slower pace.

Armin's hands trembled, his face pale and drawn. "I still can't believe you're here," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "When they told me you were gone, I... I froze again."

Anja placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to push down the thoughts piercing her mind. "I'm just glad that everyone is okay, or... most of us. I was a fool to think it would be so simple. No amount of training could prepare us for this. I couldn't save anyone, just... got more people killed."

the savage frenzy of her attack on Nac, the wet, tearing sounds of flesh parting beneath her blade, the look of pure, unadulterated terror in his eyes as he breathed his last.

Monster

The word echoed in her mind, an ever-present accusation.​

Armin's voice pulled her back from the brink, his words measured and thoughtful. "None of us could have predicted this, Anja. We're all just trying to survive, to do what we can. You can't blame yourself for the actions of the Titans."

Anja sighed, flexing her fingers, the dried blood on her hands cracking. "Honestly, everything feels off... mixed up. Like a living nightmare, one of those fever dreams you can't escape."

Armin gently nudged her, concern etched on his face. "Are you feeling alright?"

Anja blinked, shaking off the dark thoughts. "I... I'll be fine."

They entered the room where the other cadets were gathered, the air thick with tension and the metallic scent of gunpowder. Crates of rifles were strewn about, the cadets working with grim determination to load and check the weapons.

"What you said about Eren, it… I won't lie, it doesn't make any sense to me, it sounds impossible…" Armin said quietly, his brow furrowed.

"Yesterday, I would have agreed with you," Anja replied, her voice hollow. "Nothing makes sense to me as of late."

The sound of footsteps on the stairs drew their attention. Sasha emerged, her face pinched with worry.

"I counted six of them down there," she reported, her voice shaking slightly. "They're small, 3-4 meters, all over the place..."

Jean cursed under his breath. "Shit… Maybe we could try drawing them into a corner, then someone makes a run for it and refills."

"But what if they follow us here?"

"They're just going to pick us apart one by one!"

"There's too many of them."​

Armin was deep in thought, his gaze falling over the rifles, the cargo lift. Anja could tell by his gaze, a thought was falling into place.

"I've got an idea," he said, his voice low and urgent. "It's risky, but... it might just work."

Jean turned to him, his brow furrowed. "Let's hear it."

Armin took a deep breath, all eyes turning to him. "Six of us will take point in the ceiling, while the rest will act as bait. We lower the cargo lift, and with enough numbers, the Titans should focus solely on us."

He picked up a shell, examining it closely. "Buckshot should do the trick. We let them get in range, then shoot at their eyes, blinding them. That's the easy part."

"Then the six swoop down from the ceiling and slice their napes. We have to time it perfectly, and we'll only have one shot. If we screw up, we're dead."

He looked around at the others, his eyes grave. "That's why we need our best to do it, our most adept with blades. You'll be the difference between life and death for the rest of us."

"The only way we're getting that gas is if we clear the place," Armin continued, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hands. "We can't have any Titans roaming around..."

Reiner crossed his arms, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Seems like a sound plan."

Armin fidgeted, his nerves getting the better of him. "I'm willing to consider other options if anyone has them. This can't be our only option, right?"

Marco clapped him on the shoulder, his smile reassuring. "Hey, for our only option, it's well thought out. I say we might just pull this off."

Mikasa stepped forward, her gaze steady. "It's a good plan, Armin. You just need to be more confident. You're a better strategist than you give yourself credit for. I'm serious. That mind of yours has saved us more than once."

Armin blinked, surprise coloring his features. "I... when did I...?"

Anja chimed in, her voice firm despite the exhaustion weighing on her. "It's true, Armin. If you thought this out, I'm sure it's our best option. I'd... I'd like you to allow me to fight, be there as backup if needed. I can still swing a sword."

Annie's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. "You're in no condition to fight. You'd only get in the way. You're still wounded."

Anja opened her mouth to protest, but Mikasa cut her off. "She's right. Let us handle it."

Anja fell silent, struggling to accept their decision. She turned to Armin, her voice low. "Then let me go down there with you. If anything, I'll just make for good bait."

Her friend hesitated for a moment. But finally, he nodded.

---

Minutes later, they were ready to put their plan into action. Everyone had dropped their gear and scabbards, lightening the load in case they had to make a run for it.

Anja tested the weight of a rifle she was given. A single-shot piece. She checked the chamber, noting the layer of dust coating the barrel. As she brushed it off, her fingers traced over the insignia of the Military Police, the green unicorn standing out against the weathered metal. She slung the rifle over her shoulder, her attention drawn by Connie and Sasha's hushed argument nearby.

"But why can't I go?" Sasha asked, her face set in a stubborn pout.

Connie grinned, puffing out his chest. "There are just six Titans, Sasha, and I made the 8th place, right?"

Sasha frowned, confusion flickering in her eyes. "But I thought I was going."

Connie shook his head, his expression turning serious. "You might be better than me with ODM gear, but I beat you when it comes to pairing blades. Besides, you're our best sharpshooter. If anyone's got to be shooting, I'd rather it be you."

Anja chimed in, the rifle a reassuring weight against her back. "He does have a point there."

Connie's face lit up. "Sure feels good to have you back."

Sasha's reaction was more subdued, a flicker of unease passing over her features. "I'm sorry we left you. I tried to tell them... How didn't we realize you were alive?"

Anja forced a smile, confusion still churning in her gut. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'm still in one piece, aren't I? Taking me was a risk you couldn't take."

Jean's voice cut through the chatter, urgent and impatient. "Connie, let's go!"

Connie flashed the girls a grin, his eyes sparkling. "Well, I'm up. See you on the other side."

The chosen six—Reiner, Annie, Mikasa, Connie, Bertholdt, and Jean—made their way down to the supply room, their blades at the ready. The rest of the cadets piled into the lift, nervous energy thrumming through the air.

Marco called out, his voice strained. "Three minutes, everyone!"

As Anja moved to enter the lift, Marco placed a hand on her shoulder, concern etched on his face. "Are you sure about this, Anja?"

She managed a weak smile, hefting her rifle with a confidence she didn't feel. "Hey, I might not be able to do much fighting now, but I can pull a trigger."

Marco nodded, stepping back to allow her to take her place at the edge of the lift alongside Mina and Sasha.

Mina trembled beside her. Her face ashen, her eyes wide with terror. Anja reached out instinctively, wanting to offer comfort, but Mina flinched away, her breath catching in her throat.

"Don't... I... I'm fine," Mina stammered, her gaze darting away.

But the look in her eyes told a different story. It was the same look she had given Anja before, only amplified tenfold. Fear, bordering on outright panic.

Perhaps it was just another sign of the hell they were all trapped in.

The lift creaked and groaned as it began to descend, only lit by the faint glow of a lamp above them, the darkness of the supply room yawning below them. Anja's heart pounded in her ears, her palms slick with sweat as she gripped her rifle.

"Whatever happens, you need to remain calm." Marco called out, his voice steady despite the tension. "We only have one shot, and we have to make it count."

Anja nodded, her senses straining to pick up any signs of the Titans below. But the only sound was the ominous creaking of the lift, the darkness seeming to press in on them from all sides.

Beside her, Mina was hyperventilating, her breaths coming in sharp, panicked gasps. Anja glanced at her, concern and fear mingling in her gut.

And then, just as the lift jerked to a halt, they saw it. A Titan, dimly illuminated in the gloom, its massive head turning slowly towards them. Its eyes glinted with a dull, hungry light as it lumbered forward, its movements slow and clumsy in the confined space.

"Steady!" Marco warned, his voice low and urgent. "Don't shoot yet."

The Titan drew closer, its footsteps making the lift tremble and sway. Anja's eyes darted around, trying to spot the other Titans in the darkness.

She could see them now, hulking shapes moving through the shadows, their silhouettes barely distinguishable from the crates and equipment scattered around the room.

Six of them still, she counted silently. Good.

Anja's gaze fell on her sword, the one that had gotten stuck in the Titan she had narrowly escaped. It lay on the floor below, illuminated by thin shafts of light filtering through the hole the pursuing Titan had left.

The Titans kept advancing from all sides, their movements heavy but inexorable. The cadets held their breath, fingers tightening on their triggers as the monsters inched closer and closer.

A bead of sweat trickled down Anja's forehead, her heart hammering against her ribs. She stared down the barrel of her rifle, the Titan's head centered in her sights.

Its features were still half-obscured by the darkness, but she could make out the gleam of its teeth, the mindless hunger in its eyes.

Beside her, Mina was trembling violently, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. Anja risked a glance in her direction, the world seeming to slow as she took in the pure, undiluted terror etched on the other girl's face.

But Mina wasn't looking at the Titans. Her wide, panicked eyes were fixed on Anja.

In that stretched, agonizing moment, as their gazes locked, Anja saw something in Mina's eyes that chilled her to the bone. Horror.

And then, in a moment of blind panic, Mina's finger convulsed on the trigger.

The rifle bucked in her hands, the muzzle flash illuminating her wide, terrified eyes for a split second before plunging them back into darkness.

The other cadets, startled by the sudden gunfire, began to shoot as well. The air filled with the deafening crack of rifles, the acrid scent of gunpowder mingling with the coppery tang of blood.

Some of the Titans were hit, steam and ichor spraying as the bullets found their marks. But others, only partially blinded, lunged forward, their grasping hands reaching for the lift.

Anja's ears rang from the concussive blasts, Mina's shot having gone off right beside her head. She struggled to focus, her own finger hovering over the trigger.

The lift shuddered and tilted as a Titan grabbed hold of it, the metal screeching in protest. Anja lost her balance, stumbling into Sasha as the lift lurched sideways.

Jean cursed somewhere in the chaos, his voice raw with desperation. Anja caught a glimpse of him, his blades flashing out in a wild strike that glanced harmlessly off a Titan's shoulder.

Sasha, pale with terror, aimed her rifle at the Titan rattling the lift and fired. The shot hit true, steam billowing from the monster's ruined eye socket.

But it was too late. The Titan's grip had already weakened the lift's supports. With a tortured groan of metal, one of the chains snapped, sending the lift tilting at a precarious angle.

The cadets tumbled and fell, crying out in fear and pain as they were thrown over the railings. Some struggled in vain to hold on, only to be snatched by opportunistic Titans, their screams cut short by the crunch of bones and the wet tearing of flesh.

Anja hit the ground. Her head spun, her senses overwhelmed by the cacophony of screams, roars, and the deafening crack of gunfire.

Steam billowed from fallen Titans, mixing with the acrid tang of gunpowder and the coppery scent of blood. In the strobing muzzle flashes and dim light filtering through the hole above, Anja caught glimpses of the nightmarish scene unfolding around her.

Titans, their faces half-obscured by shadow and gore, grasped at the scattered cadets with grasping, blood-stained hands. Screams echoed in the cavernous room, punctuated by the sickening crunch of bones and the wet tearing of flesh.

Beside her, Sasha lay sprawled on the blood-slicked floor, Mina huddled nearby, her eyes wide and haunted.

As Anja staggered upright, helping Sasha to her feet as she went. Mina's gaze snapped to her. For a moment, their eyes locked, Mina scrambled away, a choked whimper escaping her throat as she fled into the chaos, leaving Anja staring after her in numb incomprehension.

A surge of desperate energy flooded through Anja, the pain of her injuries fading to a distant throb as adrenaline sang in her veins. She need a weapon, anything she could use, her rifle was nowhere to be found, lost in the chaos.

And then she remembered - her sword. She had seen it when she came down the lift.

Anja lunged in the direction she'd last seen it, scrabbling over fallen debris and the twitching limbs of the wounded.

There! Half-buried under a fallen Titan, the blade caught the light, beckoning to her.

As her fingers closed around the hilt, a scream of terror tore through the air. She whirled around, her heart in her throat, searching for the source of that awful sound.

Across the room, she saw Armin. He was struggling to rise, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated, his face a mask of pain and fear. A Titan loomed over him, its bulbous eyes fixed on the helpless boy, its grasping fingers reaching out to snatch him up.

She launched herself forward, desperate to reach him. But she was too far, the distance an impossible gulf. Just as despair threatened to overwhelm her, a blur of movement intersected her path.

Mikasa, her blades flashing crimson in the half-light, launched herself at the Titan with a speed and grace that defied belief. Her swords carved through the monster's nape like a hot knife through butter, sending it crashing to the ground in a plume of steam.

Relief flooded through Anja as Mikasa landed lightly beside Armin, pulling the shaking boy to his feet--

"No! Please!"

Sasha

Anja whirled towards the sound, her eyes straining to pierce the billowing haze of steam and smoke. There, half-obscured by the swirling miasma, she saw her. The other girl was on her knees, her arms raised in a futile attempt to shield herself.

Looming over her, its grotesque features twisted in a mockery of a grin, was a Titan. Gore dripped from its gaping jaws, splattering the ground at Sasha's feet. As Anja watched in horrified slow motion, it reached for the cowering girl with blood-stained fingers.

With a wordless roar of fury, she charged towards the Titan, her blade held low and ready. She leaped forward, using her momentum to carry her up and over its grasping arm.

Her sword flashed out, biting deep into the Titan's calf. It stumbled, off-balance, steam billowing from the wound.

Anja didn't let up. She pressed her advantage, hacking at the back of the Titan's knee, sending it crashing to the ground.

It twisted as it fell, its fingers still locked around Sasha's leg. The girl screamed, struggling to free herself as the Titan dragged her towards its slavering jaws.

As Anja's sword flashed again, slicing through the Titan's jaw in a spray of blood and splintered bone, she could feel the red haze of fury threatening to engulf her once more. The ruined flesh hung loose, the Titan's ability to bite and chew destroyed, but still it clawed at Sasha with mindless hunger.

She struggled to keep her bloodlust in check, to focus on saving her friend rather than giving in to that primal urge. She raised her sword for another strike, desperate to sever the Titan's grip on Sasha, but before she could bring her blade down, agony exploded through her body.

Anja raised her sword for another strike, desperate to sever the Titan's grip on her friend. But before she could bring her blade down, agony exploded through her body.

A searing, white-hot pain radiated from her back as cruel fingers dug into the barely-healed flesh of her wounds. Anja screamed, her sword falling from nerveless fingers as the Titan behind her lifted her like a ragdoll.

Through the haze of pain, Anja saw Annie rushing towards her, blades flashing in the gloom. The blonde girl launched herself at the Titan holding Anja, her face a mask of desperate determination.

Annie's blades carved through the Titan's fingers, severing them at the knuckle. The monster roared in agony, Anja fell, free from its grasp. She hit the ground, scrambling for her fallen sword as Annie engaged the Titan.

But Annie had left herself open, unable to react as the Titan's other hand came around in a brutal swipe. The blow caught Annie in the midsection, sending her flying.

Time seemed to slow as Anja watched Annie hit the pillar, her body crumpling to the ground with a sickening thud.

A scream tore from Anja's throat, crimson fog descended over her vision.

The world went red.

She moved without thought or hesitation, her body no longer her own. She was pure instinct, pure devastating intent.

In a heartbeat, she was on the Titan. Her blade moved in a blur, all technique forgotten in the face of her overwhelming need to destroy.

She took its arm first, the limb parting from its body in a spray of steaming blood. Then its leg, the sword biting through flesh and bone as if they were no more than paper.

The blade snapped, the jagged shard remaining in Anja's grip. But she didn't falter.

With a snarl of inhuman fury, she lunged for the Titan's face. Her fingers sank into its eye socket, tearing, gouging.

The Titan howled, thrashing beneath her, but Anja held fast. She ripped its eye free with a brutal twist, blood and viscous fluid splattering her face.

And still she didn't stop.

Anja raised the broken shard of her blade, the edge jagged and vicious. With a scream that bordered on madness, she brought it down on the Titan's nape.

Stabbing over and over, until it fell, its neck a ruined mass of shredded flesh.

Anja stumbled to her feet, her chest heaving, her eyes wide and unseeing. Blood dripped from her hands, her face, staining her a macabre crimson.

The world had narrowed to a single, pulsing point of rage and hunger. There was no thought, no reason, only the need to rend and tear and kill.

More. Need more.

One still moves, small, battered.

Prey.

Weak. Kill.

I lunged, blade seeking flesh, hungry for blood.

Rolling, thrashing, throat bared.

Blade kissing skin, one slice and…

Blue eyes. Wide. Terrified.

Familiar.​

Recognition pierced through the crimson madness, like a bolt of lightning.

"...Annie?"

The name fell from Anja's lips, more a question than a statement. She blinked, the haze beginning to recede from the edges of her vision. The world seemed to tilt and shift around her, reality reasserting itself piece by jagged piece.

The blade slipped from her nerveless fingers, clattering to the floor. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps.

She stumbled backwards, her legs threatening to give out beneath her. The adrenaline was fading now, the pain of her injuries and the exhaustion of the battle catching up to her all at once.

Annie lay where she had fallen, her expression a mix of shock and dawning horror. She pushed herself up on one elbow, reaching for Anja with a trembling hand.

But Anja recoiled as if burned, shaking her head frantically. "I almost..." The words caught in her throat, the reality of the carnage around her hitting her like a physical blow.

The red haze had lifted entirely now, leaving Anja raw and exposed in the aftermath of her rampage. She looked around, really looked, for the first time since the battle had begun.

Steam rose from the corpses of the fallen Titans, mixing with the smoke and dust to create a choking cloud. The floor was covered with blood, both human and Titan, the coppery scent of it overwhelming in the enclosed space.

The screams, they hadn't stopped, even though the fighting was over. Cries of pain, of grief, of desperation, echoing off the walls and ceiling.

Anja tore her gaze away from Annie, her heart twisting in her chest as she took in the devastation. Marco knelt beside a wounded cadet, his face grim as he tried to staunch the flow of blood from a gaping wound. Others lay unmoving, their eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling, their bodies broken and torn.

"Seal the entrance!" Marco ordered, his voice strained but commanding. "And help the wounded. We'll get the gas once we have this place closed off."

The surviving cadets moved to obey, some rushing to pile debris along doors, others hurrying to tend to the injured. Anja pushed herself to her feet, swaying slightly as the adrenaline began to fade, the pain of her injuries reasserting itself. She scanned the room, her eyes searching for her friends amidst the chaos.

Mikasa was kneeling beside Armin. Reiner helped a limping Jean to his feet. A small kernel of relief unfurled in her chest.

Then her gaze found Annie again. She stood frozen, her eyes wide with something that looked like dawning horror. Anja followed her stare, her heart stuttering in her chest as she took in the scene before them.

Sasha knelt in a spreading pool of blood, cradling Connie's broken form against her chest. At first, Anja couldn't process what she was seeing. His face was alarmingly pale, eyes glassy and unfocused. His right arm was gone, torn away at the shoulder, a ragged mess of flesh and bone, a big chunk of flesh missing from his side.

Sasha rocked back and forth, keening softly as she pressed her hands to the gaping wound in Connie's abdomen. Thick ropes of blood seeped between her fingers, staining her skin a deep, glistening crimson.

Anja looked to Annie, desperation etched on her face, maybe there was something they could do. But the blonde girl could only shake her head, her gaze low.

And then Connie stirred, a soft, pained groan escaping his bloodied lips. Sasha gasped, hope warring with disbelief in her eyes.

"Connie? Connie, stay with me, please..."

The boy's eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused. He looked up at Sasha, a ghost of his usual grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Hey, Sasha," he rasped, his voice thin and thready. "Guess I... I really messed up this time, huh?"

Sasha shook her head violently, her ponytail whipping back and forth as tears streamed down her cheeks. "No, no, you did great. You were amazing. Just... just hold on, okay? We'll get you help, we'll..."

But his life was seeping away with every rattling exhale, draining from the horrific wound in a steady crimson tide. Still, he summoned what little strength he had left and reached up, his trembling fingertips brushing Sasha's tear-stained cheek.

A wet, rattling chuckle escaped his lips, the sound turning into a cough that flecked his chin with blood. But still, he smiled, his eyes never leaving Sasha's face. "I just… I'm glad I met you… I…"

Sasha let out an anguished wail, clutching at him desperately. "No, no, no, please" she sobbed, her voice breaking. "Please, don't leave me..."

But there was no response, Connie's eyes slipped shut, his hand falling away to land in the ever-widening pool of his own blood. A final, wheezing exhalation escaped his lips, and then he was still, the ghost of that roguish grin frozen forever on his young face.

Sasha screamed, a sound of raw agony. She collapsed over Connie's body, her grief pouring out of her in great, heaving sobs that wracked her entire frame.

The battle was over. But the cost, the terrible, devastating cost, was only beginning to be reckoned.

/

/

/

Note: I didn't plan to post on Sunday, but here we are. I've only recently finished this one; Here's hoping you'll enjoy it! The next one or next two, depending on how long it gets, will be the last for the Trost arc. If you have the time, consider leaving some feedback or suggestions. It helps out a lot. Thank you!

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter XIII: Reckoning

---

Anja stared at Connie's lifeless form, his body partially shrouded by a blood-soaked sheet. Beside him, Sasha wept, her sobs echoing in the dusty air, tears cutting through the grime on her cheeks. The distant sounds of battle provided an ominous backdrop, mingling with the coppery scent of blood and acrid smoke.

Anja's mind reeled, struggling to process the nightmare unfolding around her. Was this real? Or just a cruel trick of her exhausted psyche? Time had lost all meaning in this hell, minutes stretching into hours, hours into what felt like days.

Annie stood frozen nearby, her usually stoic mask cracked, icy blue eyes wide with shock. Anja reached out, placing a trembling hand on Sasha's shaking shoulder, a feeble attempt at comfort.

"...Why?" Sasha's broken whisper cut through the haze. "You should never have died... None of you..."

Sasha's gaze snapped to Mina across the room, grief transmuting into rage. She surged to her feet, stalking towards the smaller girl.

"You!" Sasha snarled, voice cracking. "You killed him!"

Mina paled, shrinking back as Sasha grabbed her shirt, hauling her up with surprising strength.

"I-I didn't mean to--" Mina's brittle protest was cut off as Sasha shook her violently.

"Why did you shoot?!" Sasha screamed, punctuating each word with a brutal shake. "Answer me!"

Her fist connected with Mina's face, sending the girl crumpling to the ground.

"I was scared!" Mina sobbed, blood trickling from her nose. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry--"

Sasha drew back her arm for another blow, but Jean lunged forward, wrapping his arms around her and dragging her back. "Stop, Sasha! This won't change anything!"

Sasha thrashed against his grip, kicking and clawing. "Let go!"

Marco stepped between them, hands raised placatingly. "Enough. Please." Exhaustion and sorrow carved deep lines into his face. "No one is to blame."

The other survivors gathered around, drawn by the commotion. Some reached out to comfort Sasha, others simply stood in grim, shocked silence.

"I know this is hard," Marco continued, voice strained. "We're all hurt, tired, grieving. But we can't turn on each other. Our friends gave their lives to get us this far. We can't let that be for nothing."

Sasha slumped in Jean's arms, rage giving way to despair. She sank to the floor, frame wracked with silent sobs.

A distant rumble shook the building, dust sifting from the ceiling. Anja's heart lurched. Eren. In the chaos, she'd almost forgotten he was still out there, fighting for his life.

"This place won't last much longer," Jean said grimly. "We need to move. Now."

Marco nodded, jaw set with determination. "Check your gear, make sure you have gas. We'll head for the wall."

The cadets moved to obey, hands shaking as they checked canisters and secured blades. Anja glimpsed Mikasa and Armin already heading up the stairs, faces drawn and pale in the dim light.

As the others filed out, Anja found her gaze drawn back to Connie's body. Sasha knelt beside him, gently touching his still face, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Finally, she stood, grief and resolve etched into her features.

"He wouldn't want us to die here," she said softly, voice thick. With one last lingering look, she turned towards the stairs.

To Anja's surprise, Annie had stayed behind, her intense gaze making Anja's skin prickle. "Are you alright?" the blonde asked quietly.

Anja nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She was far from alright, but there was no time for that now. They had to keep moving, keep fighting.

Annie's eyes narrowed, seeing through the lie. "Back there, with the Titan... are you sure you're--"

"I don't know," Anja cut her off, sharper than intended. She softened. "Nothing feels fine..."

Annie looked like she wanted to say more, but another tremor rocked the building, spurring them into motion. They raced up the stairs, the sounds of battle growing louder with each step.

As they reached the upper floor, Anja froze. Through a shattered window, she saw Eren, surrounded by a horde of other Titans. Steam rose from countless wounds on his body, his movements sluggish, labored. But still, he fought, roaring defiance.

Annie caught her arm. "Wait, Anja—"

"I know what you probably think, but—"

"I believe you..."

Anja blinked, stunned. Had she heard right?

"You asked me before..." Annie said. "That's my answer. There's something different about that Titan. But think about this. What happens if we do help him? What then?"

Anja hesitated. "Honestly... I haven't thought that far. We have to regroup at the wall, the battle's not over. Maybe he could help us win the damn thing."

Annie tightened her grip. "What do you think the others will see when we bring him there? They'll only see an enemy--"

"No, he's on our side, one of us. They'll see reason--"

"Fear trumps reason... Many have lost homes, loved ones to the Titans. When they see him, they'll only see a monster. Who knows what they'll do."

Anja faltered. Annie wouldn't meet her eyes. "I say we take him out of the city. That way he'll be safe."

Anja struggled with Annie's words. She couldn't see Eren as a monster, refused to. She only saw her friend, the boy who swore to kill the Titans, who she knew in her soul would honor that vow. But Annie had a point, a painful truth Anja couldn't deny. Perhaps for her own sake.

Others might only ever see a monster. But to Anja, Eren represented hope. Hope she didn't deserve, but if she could do one act to atone for all her failures, it would be saving him. Giving humanity the hope it desperately needed.

"Watch out!" Annie shoved Anja aside as a Titan crashed into the building.

As the dust settled, they saw Eren again, pinned to the wall as other Titans... ate him. How was that possible?

She had to act.

"No, wait!" Annie cried, but Anja was already moving.

"Get away from him!" She screamed, launching herself out the window, diving into the fray.

Her screams went unheeded, the Titans hypnotized by their feast. She managed to cut down a small one gnawing at Eren's elbow, blood spraying her face as she clung to the wall, screaming.

"Fight!" Eren's eyes remained glazed, staring blankly ahead. "You have to!"

"Anja, get out of there!"

Anja turned towards the voice and froze. A massive hand grasped for her, too big, too fast--

An explosive thud shook the air. The hand missed Anja by inches, crashing into the wall beside her.

At the last second, Eren surged up, jaws clamping around the Titan's arm with a sickening crunch. He wrenched his head, tearing the limb free in a spray of steaming blood. The Titan reeled back, roaring in agony.

Eren, now armless, with a gaping hole in his chest, fought on. He hurled the blond Titan around like a ragdoll, ripping its head from its shoulders, gnawing through its nape. Its massive body toppled back with a ground-shaking thud.

With a final earth-shaking roar, Eren dropped to his knees, steam rising from his wounds.

Anja's heart stopped. He wasn't regenerating.

The Titan fell still. A scream built in Anja's throat.

Then, miraculously, a familiar figure burst from the Titan's nape, steaming and blood-soaked but unmistakably human.

…Eren!

---

Eren lay unresponsive but alive, his breath shallow, skin burning to the touch. They'd cut him from the Titan's flesh, the melding leaving raw, angry burns across his skin.

They'd brought him to the safety of the headquarters' rooftop.

Jean looked out over the steaming battlefield, littered with Titan corpses. "So he did all that..."

Armin stared transfixed at Eren's hand, holding it up in disbelief.

"I saw him... get eaten..." he said softly.

Mikasa hadn't left Eren's side, eyes gleaming with fresh tears of joy.

"He's here now. That's what matters. We need to get him to a doctor, make sure he's okay."

"He looks fine to me," Reiner said slowly. "We could watch him here while you get help. Might not be safe bringing him inside the walls just yet."

Anja shook her head. "It's too dangerous out here. We can't be sure he's alright. Who knows what toll it took on him. We need to make sure."

Jean paled. "Are you insane? We can't just walk in there with him like this! What'll happen when people see what he is?"

"I don't care," Mikasa snapped, eyes flashing.

"She's right," Armin said, voice shaky but determined. "We can't leave him. The Armored could appear any moment. And Anja's hurt..."

Armin took a breath. "I don't know how, but... whatever's happening to him, we need to understand it. We all saw what he can do..."

Reiner considered this. "I see your point. Maybe we still have a shot at retaking the city, if he can help. What do you suggest?"

"We take him back. Explain what happened. Hopefully, Eren can clear up any doubts when he wakes."

Anja frowned. "But what if they do something to him?"

"They won't, he will help. We've all witnessed it," Armin said. "He didn't attack us. He saved you, saved Mikasa."

Reiner nodded reassuringly to Anja. "Don't worry. We won't let anyone hurt him."

Annie stepped forward. "I'll stay with Anja," she said firmly. "You get Eren to the wall. We'll catch up soon as we can."

Reiner considered this, then nodded. "Alright. For now, we keep what we saw to ourselves. No need to add to the panic."

They all agreed, preparing to move out. They took one last look at the ruins behind them. Annie paused, gazing out at Trost, the city still besieged, Titans roaming the streets, fires lighting the horizon, houses torn asunder.

"All this death..." she murmured.

Anja placed a hand on her shoulder. "It won't be for nothing. Come on."

Annie gave her a weak smile, a shadow passing over her features, she just nodded, and they set off.

---

As they reached the top of the wall, the scene that greeted Anja and Annie was one of pure chaos and despair. Everywhere they looked, wounded soldiers lay sprawled around, their agonized cries filling the air. Others just stood there in shock, their faces grim and hands stained with blood.

In the distance, the sounds of battle still raged, punctuated by the occasional boom of cannon fire. Titans roamed the streets of Trost below, their massive forms casting long shadows in the fading light. The soldiers manning the walls watched the horizon with tense, weary faces, waiting for the dreaded appearance of the Armored Titan.

Anja felt a surge of guilt as they passed through the throngs of wounded and dying, realizing that their desperate battle was just one of many, largely unnoticed amidst the greater tragedy unfolding around them. The refugees remained huddled in small groups, their faces etched with grief and fear, children clinging to their parents as they wept.

It all felt too familiar to her, the echoes of Shiganshina resonating in her mind. She fought hard to keep the memories at bay, blinking back the sudden sting of tears.

Annie led them through the chaos, her face set in grim determination. They passed Ymir and Christa, the latter looking pale and stricken as she tended to a soldier with a missing arm. Ymir glanced up as they approached, her eyes widening as she took in Anja's bloodied, battered form.

"What the hell happened to you?" Ymir demanded her usually sardonic tone laced with genuine concern.

Anja just shook her head, too exhausted to reply.

"Anja… Are you okay?" Christa asked, her gentle voice thick with worry.

Anja tried to muster a reassuring smile, though it felt more like a grimace. "I'll be fine. I know it looks bad, but I've had worse."

Christa didn't look convinced, but she nodded. "There's a medical tent set up just down there," she said, pointing towards a cluster of billowing white canvas near the wall's edge. "I'd check you over myself, but I've got my hands full here. I'm sure someone there can help."

"Thank you," Anja said sincerely.

As they made their way towards the medical tent, Anja overheard snatches of conversation from a group of nearby Garrison soldiers.

"Damn it, whenever you need the Scouts, they're nowhere to be found." One of them grumbled, his face twisted in a scowl.

"Maybe they all got eaten already," another said with a dark chuckle. "Crazy bastards."​

"The Scouts?" Anja asked, confused. "Weren't they here?"

"They left this morning," Annie replied, her voice low and tense. "You were still sleeping."

Anja felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. "Just our luck," she muttered. "Maybe we'd still be holding the Titans back if they were here."

Annie shook her head, her expression grim. "Maybe. It was just an unlucky coincidence…"

As they approached the medical tent, the stench of blood and decay grew stronger, mingling with the sharp scent of antiseptic. Anja's stomach churned, her head swimming with sudden nausea.

Before they entered, Annie pulled her aside, her grip on Anja's arm almost painfully tight.

"Listen to me," she said, her voice low and intense. "Before we go in there, promise me you won't say anything about what happened. Not to anyone."

Anja frowned, confusion swirling in her exhausted mind. "I thought we agreed not to mention Eren—"

"Not Eren," Annie cut her off, her icy blue eyes flashing. "You."

Anja stared at her, uncomprehending. "What do you mean? Why can't I—"

"Think about it, Anja," Annie hissed, her fingers digging into Anja's skin. "I saw you die. And now, suddenly, you're back? Walking around like nothing happened? If you start babbling about that, they're going to have questions. Questions we can't answer."

Anja swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. Annie was right. Her miraculous return was just as inexplicable as Eren's Titan abilities, just as likely to draw unwanted attention and suspicion.

"Okay," she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. "I won't say anything. I promise."

Annie searched her face for a long moment, then nodded, releasing her arm. "Good. Now let's get you patched up."

They ducked into the tent, the canvas flap falling shut behind them. Inside, the air was close and heavy, thick with the metallic tang of blood and the moans of the wounded. Cots lined the walls, each one occupied by a soldier in various states of injury. Medics moved between them, their faces drawn and haggard, their hands steady as they stitched and bandaged and tried to stem the relentless tide of blood.

Anja's gaze caught on a familiar figure moving towards them— the same doctor who had treated her wounds before. His face was haggard, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion, but he managed a weary smile as he recognized them.

"It's good to see you again, Doctor...?"

"Weiss. I didn't expect to see you again so soon." He shook his head, taking in the bloody hole in the back of Anja's shirt, the makeshift bandages wrapped around her hands. "Looks like you've been through hell. Come on, let's take a look at you."

He led her over to an empty cot, gesturing for her to sit. Anja complied, wincing as the movement pulled at her many cuts and bruises. The doctor carefully peeled away the blood-soaked fabric of her shirt, revealing the raw, puckered flesh beneath. Anja gritted her teeth against the pain, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

She hissed as he probed the wound with gentle fingers, cleaning away the blood and grime with a damp cloth. "You're lucky you didn't bleed out," he said as he worked. "Whoever sealed that wound saved your life, you wouldn't be sitting here now, if it wasn't for that."

She tensed, Annie noticeably too. But she limited her response to a nod, gritting her teeth against the sting of the antiseptic.

As Dr. Weiss began to stitch various gashes in her hands, Anja's gaze drifted to Annie, who stood nearby with her arms crossed over her chest, her face unreadable. But there was a tension in her posture, a tightness around her eyes that betrayed her concern.

Suddenly, Annie stiffened, her gaze snapping to something over Anja's shoulder. Anja turned to look, ignoring the pull of the stitches, and saw Bertholdt hovering at the edge of the tent, his tall form hunched and uncertain.

Annie muttered something under her breath, too low for Anja to catch. Then she touched Anja's arm, her fingers cool against Anja's feverish skin.

"I'll be right back," she said, her voice flat. "Don't go anywhere."

With that, she turned and strode over to Bertholdt, leaving Anja alone with the doctor.

Weiss shook his head as he tied off the last stitch, snipping the excess thread with a pair of small silver scissors. "You've got some good friends," he said, nodding in Annie's direction. "That one came to visit you before, I recall. Didn't speak much."

Anja glanced over at Annie and Bertholdt, trying to read their body language, to glean some hint of what they were discussing. But they were too far away, their voices too low to make out over the ambient noise of the tent, she saw them leave.

"Yeah, she usually doesn't…" she said softly, feeling a sudden, inexplicable pang in her chest. "I'm lucky to have them."

Weiss hummed in agreement, reaching for a roll of clean bandages. As he began to wind them around Anja's torso, his gaze fell on the pendant resting against her sternum, glinting dully in the lantern light.

He froze, his hands stilling mid-motion. "Where did you get that?" he asked, his voice suddenly sharp.

Anja blinked, taken aback by the intensity of his stare. Her fingers closed around the pendant automatically, feeling the familiar grooves and ridges of the metal.

"It was my brother's," she said slowly, unsure why he was asking. "He gave it to me before he... before he died."

Weiss's face softened, something like sympathy flickering in his eyes. He opened his mouth to reply—

BOOM!​

Cannon fire. Close. Too close.

It shook the very ground beneath their feet. Anja was moving before she even realized what she was doing, snatching up her ODM gear and buttoning her shirt, lurching towards the tent flap. She heard Dr. Weiss shout after her, but she couldn't stop.

Outside she saw a plume of steam rose into the sky like a beacon, marking the spot where the cannon had struck, she heard the screams and shouts of panic and confusion.

Anja launched herself into the air, her cables finding purchase on the nearest building. She pushed on, ignoring the white-hot agony lancing through her body with every movement, luckily she didn't have to go far.

As she landed on a rooftop overlooking the scene, her breath caught in her throat, her heart stuttering to a stop.

Eren, Mikasa, and Armin were surrounded by Garrison troops, their faces pale and strained in the harsh light. The soldiers had their guns trained on them, their fingers twitching on the triggers.

And there, rising behind them was a Titan. Or rather, the skeletal remains of one, still smoking from the blast of the cannon. Its bony hand was outstretched as if to shield the three cadets from the soldiers' wrath.

Anja's mind raced, piecing together the scene before her. Eren must have transformed, using his Titan form to protect his friends. But something had gone wrong, the transformation incomplete. And now the soldiers saw him as a threat, a monster to be put down.

Armin stepped forward, placing himself between Eren and the barrels of a dozen guns. His voice rang out over the clamor, high and desperate.

"As a soldier, I have dedicated my heart to the restoration of humanity!" he cried, his fist slamming against his chest in a fierce salute. "Nothing could make me prouder than dying for such a noble cause!"

Anja's heart clenched at the raw conviction in his voice, the way his small frame seemed to swell with the force of his belief.

"If we were to use his Titan ability and combine it with the manpower we have left, I believe we can retake this city!" Armin continued, his voice rising over the murmurs of the crowd. "For humanity's glory, in what little time I have left to live, I will advocate his strategic value!"

A few of the soldiers wavered, their guns dipping slightly. But others only tightened their grips, their faces twisted with fear.

"Quiet!" one of the officers snarled, his voice cracking with strain.

A flicker of movement caught Anja's eye and she turned to see Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner crouched on a nearby rooftop, watching the scene with intent, unreadable expressions. For a moment, Annie's gaze met hers, something urgent and pleading in her icy blue eyes.

Before Anja could begin to decipher the meaning behind that look, a new voice cut through the tumult, strong and commanding.

"That's enough! Stand down, all of you!"

Anja turned to see a tall, bald man striding towards the circle of soldiers, his face set in stern lines. He wore the uniform of the Garrison, the emblem of the roses bold on his breast. A red band crossed across his chest.

Commander Pyxis.

As he approached, the soldiers lowered their rifles, their faces uncertain. Pyxis swept his gaze over the scene, taking in Eren's battered form, the steam that still lingered in the air, Armin's face set with determination.

"Can't you all see this soldier's heartfelt salute?" he said at last, his deep voice carrying in the sudden silence, "I think we can at least do these young soldiers the favor of hearing them out."

---

Anja crept along the top of the wall, her heart pounding in her ears as she strained to catch any hint of Pyxis' conversation with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, the truth was she couldn't even get close. An hour had passed since the Commander had led them away, and with each passing minute, the knot of dread in Anja's stomach tightened.

What if they decided Eren was too dangerous, too unpredictable? What if they chose to eliminate the threat he posed, rather than risk the chance that he might lose control again? Annie's warning echoed in her mind, a relentless drumbeat of fear and doubt.

But they hadn't killed him on the spot. That had to count for something.

Anja was so focused on her racing thoughts that she almost didn't hear the voices drifting up from below. She froze, edging closer to the wall's inner edge, careful to keep out of sight.

"...all went to hell in a handbasket." Jean's voice, strained and weary.

"I'm guessing that's where... shit. And Eren? You said he was eaten?" Ymir, her usual sarcasm replaced by complete seriousness, a grave hint to her tone.

"I didn't see it myself. Armin and Mina did."

"Eren was chasing after a Titan that ate Thomas," Mina said, her voice small and brittle. "We ran into other Titans. They caught us. It all happened so quick..."

"How did you even make it out?" Ymir asked.

There was a long, heavy pause. Then, Mina spoke again, her words halting and thick with tears.

"I thought I was going to die. I saw-- I saw--" She broke off, taking a shuddering breath. "It was Anja. She killed the Titan, but she... she was like a demon. She didn't even notice me, just went straight above. There was another Titan, I think… Nac was there too..."

Anja felt like she'd been punched in the gut. The memories came flooding back in a dizzying rush - the red haze of rage, the savage joy of rending flesh, the taste of blood on her tongue. And Nac, his face forever seared in her memory, frozen in agony and terror...

"I only remember hearing Nac's screams," Mina continued, her voice distant and haunted. "I couldn't move… I was lucky Marco came to help."

"Next thing I know, they were dragging her to us. She was covered in blood. Human blood. She was wounded, bleeding."

Anja couldn't breathe. The world was spinning around her, the ground tilting beneath her feet. She wanted to scream, to deny it, to beg for forgiveness. But the words wouldn't come.

"That's right," Jean said heavily. "She died. Wolf."

"What do you mean she died? I saw her like an hour ago," Ymir demanded.

"Well, we thought she was dead… Next thing we know, she shows up at headquarters. Someone almost blew her head off."

Anja remembered that moment with crystalline clarity. The shock on her friends' faces, the rifle barrel pointed between her eyes. The dawning realization that she had come back from the brink of death.

"All she did was sputter some nonsense about Eren being a Titan," Jean continued. "Turns out, she was right."

"I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around it all," Marco admitted.

"There's not much to think about." Mina's voice was cold, hard. "She's a murderer."

The words hit Anja like a physical blow. She staggered back from the edge, her vision blurring with tears. She couldn't listen anymore, couldn't bear to hear the fear and revulsion in her friends' voices.

She stumbled away, blindly seeking some corner, some quiet place where she could fall apart in peace. Her mind was a whirlwind of guilt and self-loathing, Mina's accusation ringing in her ears.

Murderer. Demon.​

Anja didn't know how long she wandered, lost in the maze of her anguish. There wasn't a single spot that wasn't occupied. She found herself amongst a sea of defeated faces. One more wouldn't matter. She sank to the ground, drawing her knees to her chest, and let the tears come.

She cried for Nac, for the brutal, senseless way she'd torn him apart. For Annie, who she'd nearly killed in her blind, bestial rage. For her friends, who would never look at her the same way again.

Most of all, she cried for herself - for the dark, twisted thing she'd become, the monster that lurked beneath her skin, waiting to be unleashed.

Anja was so lost in her misery that she didn't even notice Sasha's approach until the other girl was right beside her. She looked up, hastily wiping at her tear-stained face, expecting to see the same fear and loathing she'd heard in Mina's voice.

But Sasha's expression was unreadable, her dark eyes shadowed and distant. She had a whetstone in one hand, a blade in the other, and she was methodically running the stone along the sword's edge with a rhythmic scrape of metal on stone.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Sasha just kept sharpening her blade, her gaze fixed on some far horizon. Anja recognized the look on Sasha's face, the hollow emptiness behind her eyes.

Finally, Anja broke the silence, her voice still rough from crying.

"Those are already sharp," she pointed out, nodding to the blade in Sasha's hand.

Sasha shrugged, not looking up. "When are we going to fight again?" she asked abruptly.

There was no humor in her voice, no trace of her usual bubbly enthusiasm. Just a flat, dead tone that made Anja's heart ache.

Anja blinked, taken aback. "Everyone's waiting on the Commander," she said uncertainly.

Sasha grunted, setting aside her whetstone and examining the edge of her blade with a critical eye. Seemingly satisfied, she stood, sheathing the sword with a sharp, decisive motion.

Just then, a commotion drew their attention. Anja recognized one of the soldiers causing it - Daz, the cadet who had always been a little too eager, a little too quick to panic.

He was squirming, his face pale and slick with sweat. "I can't do this!" he wailed, his voice cracking with hysteria. "I didn't sign up to die like this!"

"Stop shrieking, you coward!" An officer shouted, his face red with anger as he berated the soldier. "You think you're too good to sacrifice yourself for the good of humanity?" The officer drew his sword. "Would you prefer I cut you down as an example to your comrades?!"

Daz reached for his sword with trembling hands. "Do what you have to! I'll take that over being fed to a Titan!"

Before Anja could react, Sasha was moving. She crossed the distance between them in a few long strides, her fist snapping out to connect with Daz's chin with a sickening crunch. The boy crumpled, blood spraying from his mouth as he hit the ground.

Sasha stood over him, her face a mask of cold fury. "Get ahold of yourself," she snarled, her voice low and deadly.

Daz whimpered, shrinking back from the icy rage in Sasha's eyes. Anja watched, stunned by the transformation in her friend.

"I'm not going back to that nightmare!" Daz screamed, scrambling backwards, leaving a trail of blood from his split lip.

Sasha just watched him go, her lip curling in disgust. Around them, Anja could hear the other soldiers murmuring, their voices rising in a tide of fear and desperation.

"I don't want to die…"

"We're all going to be slaughtered."​

Some were already pushing away from the wall, ignoring the threats and curses of their officers.

"ATTENTION!"​

The bellow cut through the rising panic like a knife, silencing the crowd in an instant. Anja's head snapped around to see Commander Pyxis standing atop the wall, his bald head gleaming in the harsh sunlight.

"Soldiers, soon we will begin the Trost Recovery Operation!" he shouted, his deep voice carrying across the wall. "Our primary objective will be to reseal the breach!"

He began to pace along the wall's edge, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Yes, you heard right. And it will be done manually!"

A murmur of disbelief rippled through the assembled soldiers.

"Impossible…"​

"Maybe some of you have heard the rumors by now," Pyxis continued, his voice rising over the whispers. "That one of our own has the ability to transform into a Titan. I'm here to tell you that those rumors are true."

Eren stepped forward to stand beside the Commander, his fist slamming against his chest in a fierce salute. Pyxis gestured to him, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Allow me to introduce Cadet Eren Jaeger. Don't let appearances deceive you. This young man is the product of our most advanced science."

The crowd erupted into a roar of shock and confusion.

"The Commander has officially gone off his rocker," someone muttered nearby.​

"Cadet Jaeger will lift a boulder we've located near the hole and plug it in. Your mission will be to defend him." He swept his gaze across the sea of upturned faces, his eyes glinting beneath his bushy brows.

"Anyone wishing to leave can do so freely. You will not be charged with treason! Those who have seen a Titan firsthand will not be expected to revisit such horrors again."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "If you have loved ones you would spare from the same trauma, you may also leave. The crown will continue to recognize your service. I wish you good luck."

A few soldiers glanced at each other uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot. But to Anja's surprise, most of those who had been leaving turned back to face the Commander, their faces set with grim determination.

Pyxis nodded a fierce light in his eyes. "Four years ago, you may remember we conducted the Operation to retake Wall Maria. It was little more than a purge. A thinly disguised exercise in population control. We knew this in our hearts, but we turned a blind eye because their deaths allowed us to survive."

"That guilt is ours. The citizens of Wall Rose sustained themselves on the slaughter of the refugees of Wall Maria, who had come to us for help."

"If Trost falls, if Wall Rose is breached, the population will succumb by a whole new order of magnitude. Wall Sheena would not even be able to support half the refugees."

Anja felt a chill race down her spine.

"Have it in your mind that if humanity is eradicated, it won't be the fault of the Titans. We would have done it to ourselves. If a line isn't drawn now, it won't be drawn at all."

He raised his fist high, his voice rising to a shout. "Let us make our stand now! Let us die here!"

For a moment, there was only stunned silence. Then, a single voice rang out.

"For humanity!"​

Another joined in, then another. Soon, the entire wall was echoing with the cries of the soldiers, their fists raised in defiance against the Titans, against their terror.

"Let's send those bastards back to hell!"​

As the cheers reached a crescendo, Pyxis turned and strode away, leaving a charged silence in his wake. Then, as if a spell had been broken, the soldiers burst into motion, rushing to check their gear, to ready themselves for the battle to come.

---

Anja found herself swept up in the tide of soldiers rushing to take their positions along the wall. She rode the elevator up, her heart pounding in her ears, the weight of her gear a familiar and reassuring presence at her hips.

As she emerged onto the top of the wall, the scene before her was one of controlled chaos. Soldiers rushed back and forth, wheeling cannons into place and stacking crates of ammunition. Officers barked orders, their voices rising above the clamor.

Anja scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face. There, bent over a map with a group of other soldiers, was a head of blond hair she'd recognize anywhere.

She made her way over, weaving through the press of bodies until she reached Armin's side. He glanced up as she approached, his blue eyes widening in surprise and relief.

"Anja," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I'm glad you're here."

"How's Eren? Where is he? Is he feeling okay?" Anja asked in a rush, the questions tumbling out before she could stop them.

Armin glanced around, making sure they were out of earshot of the others. "He seemed better, but this… It's risky," he admitted. "Eren is already on the move, Mikasa went with him, along with the Garrison Elite."

Anja frowned, worry gnawing at her insides. "Isn't there another way?"

Armin shook his head. "There isn't, not on such short notice. This is our only chance." He tapped the map, his finger tracing a path from the wall to the boulder. "Eren will transform and carry the boulder to the breach. Meanwhile, the rest of us will be on the wall, drawing the Titans' attention away from him."

Anja felt a chill run down her spine. "Will that be enough?" she whispered.

"Most of them, I think, but it's still dangerous..." Armin said, his voice tight. "The only way this succeeds is if Eren can seal the hole. Only then can we take back Trost, pick off the Titans one by one until the city is clear."

Anja was silent for a long moment, her mind racing. It was a desperate plan, a gamble with the fate of humanity at stake.

"Do you think he can do it?" she asked softly. "Eren, I mean. Do you think he can control it?"

Armin met her gaze, his eyes fierce with determination. "I have to believe he can. He's our best hope, Anja. Our only hope."

Anja nodded, squaring her shoulders. "Then I'll do whatever it takes. I'll fight with everything I have. I won't let him down." I won't let any of you down. Not again.

The words hung unspoken between them, heavy with the weight of her guilt, her resolve. Armin reached out, gripping her shoulder in a brief, fierce squeeze.

"We're in this together, Anja. All of us."

Anja nodded. She glanced around, catching sight of her other friends preparing for battle. She couldn't bring herself to meet their eyes, noticing the way they studiously avoided her gaze in return. Her heart clenched, but she pushed the pain aside.

Below, the Titans were starting to crowd against the stone, their dead eyes staring up at the soldiers, their grasping hands reaching for the human prey just out of reach.

"It's working," Anja murmured. "They're coming to us."

But even as she spoke, she noticed some of the Titans breaking away from the horde, lumbering back towards the city.

"Do not waste ammunition!" an officer shouted, his voice rising above the clamor. "Do not fire unless instructed! We still don't know when or if the Colossal or Armored will reappear!"

Anja turned to Armin, her brow furrowed. "When will we know if Eren's made it?"

Armin's gaze was fixed on the horizon, his face tight with tension. "Flares, remember? If all goes well, we should see green smoke. Otherwise—"

"Red smoke, sir!"​

The shout rang out like a gunshot, cutting through the air. Anja's head snapped around, her heart seizing in her chest.

There, rising from the center of Trost like a blood-red beacon against the grey sky, was a column of crimson smoke.

/

/

/

Note: Sorry for the delay again, I had lost most of this chapter and had to rewrite it. Next one will probably be the final battle. I hope you enjoyed it!

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter XIV: Crimson Horizon(Part I)

---

The dawn broke over Trost, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and gold. The sleepy district slowly stirred to life, the usual morning routines punctuated by an air of excitement. Today, the Scouts were setting out on another expedition.

A small crowd had gathered near the gate, a mix of eager cadets and curious civilians. Their cheers and well-wishes filled the air, a stark contrast to the somber silence that often greeted the Scouts' return. Children perched on their parents' shoulders, straining for a glimpse of humanity's bravest soldiers.

At the gate, the Scouts made their final preparations, green cloaks fluttering in the morning breeze. Commander Erwin Smith stood at the forefront, his imposing figure a beacon of strength and determination. Beside him was Miche Zacharius, his second-in-command, a tall man with a scruffy beard and an uncanny sense of smell.

"We've had reports of unusual Titan activity in the southern sector," Erwin said, his deep voice carrying over the rhythmic thud of hoofbeats and the murmur of the crowd. "Scattered sightings, erratic behavior."

Miche's brow furrowed as he inhaled deeply, testing the air. "Could it be related to the Colossal or Armored?"

Erwin's eyes narrowed, considering the possibility. "It's been five years without a sign of them, but something has the Titans acting off. It could be nothing, but it warrants investigation."

Miche nodded, his keen eyes scanning the horizon beyond the walls. "Better safe than sorry."

As the sun crested the wall, bathing the world in golden light, Erwin raised his hand. His voice rang out, clear and commanding, "The 56th expedition begins now. Scouts, move out!"

With a thunder of hooves, they rode through the gate. The crowd's cheers swelled, hands waving frantically as the Scouts passed. Atop the walls, the day's patrol of Garrison soldiers watched the procession, some offering salutes to their comrades-in-arms.

The Scouts pressed on, the wind whipping through their hair and tugging at their cloaks. The walls of Trost grew smaller behind them, the familiar silhouette gradually fading until it was nothing more than a distant memory on the horizon.

The landscape opened up into rolling hills and sprawling fields. The Scouts fell into formation, spreading out to cover more ground, their green cloaks billowing behind them in the gentle breeze.

For several hours, the expedition proceeded without incident. They encountered a few stray Titans, dispatching them with practiced ease. But as they approached the area of the reported sightings, the Titan presence began to thin, to the point where they appeared nonexistent.

"It's been an hour without a flare," Erwin noted, a hint of concern in his voice. "We should be near the site, Miche?"

Miche's nose twitched as he scented the air, his scruffy beard catching the light breeze. "Nothing... But, the wind… It carries a strange smell."

Just then, Hange Zoë, the regiment's resident scientist, rode towards them, her brown ponytail bouncing with each gallop. An ecstatic grin spread across her face, her eyes sparkling with excitement behind her glasses. "Erwin! You have to come see this!"

As Erwin, Miche, and Hange arrived at the scene, they found the Levi squad gathered around a Titan lying still on the ground. Oluo stood with his arms crossed, trying to mimic Levi's nonchalant stance. Petra hovered nearby, her hand never straying far from her blade, while Gunther and Eld maintained a cautious distance, their eyes constantly scanning the surroundings.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" Hange exclaimed. "It's almost as if it's ill. But Titans don't get sick... do they?"

"Hange! Don't get too close," Petra warned, her hand clutching the grip of her blade.

Undeterred, Hange inched closer. "But it looks harmless." She poked at the Titan with a stick, narrowly escaping being bitten as the creature suddenly snapped at her. Hange jumped back, laughing. "Can we take it with us?"

Erwin ignored Hange's request, focusing on examining the Titan. Its reflexes seemed slow, but nothing appeared too out of the ordinary. The creature's gaze occasionally shifted towards Eld, but Erwin thought nothing of it.

Levi approached, his face set in its usual scowl. "The bastards are dumber than usual today," he remarked, waving his hand in front of the Titan's eyes, which failed to follow the movement.

"Abnormals?" Miche asked.

Eld shrugged. "Maybe, but I'm not about to complain. Gets easier when they sit still."

As Erwin considered what they'd do about it a bird darted through the air above them, in a blur of motion, the previously inert Titan sprang to life. It jumped, its jaws snapped shut around the unsuspecting bird, the crunch of bones audible in the stunned silence that followed.

Before anyone could react, Levi was in motion. In a flash he carved through the Titan's nape with deadly precision. As the creature fell, its flesh began to evaporate at an alarming rate, far quicker than normal. The Scouts watched in shock as the Titan's remains dissolved into a thick, steaming slurry that seemed to be absorbed by the earth itself, leaving no trace behind.

"What the hell was that?!" Oluo exclaimed, his composure was lost, his eyes wide.

Petra's voice was shaky as she asked, "Since when do Titans eat animals?"

"Fascinating..." Hange murmured.

Erwin followed the trail the Titan had left, noting how its body had marked the grass. His brow furrowed as he surveyed the scene. "Stay alert, everyone. Let's see where this one came from."

As they pressed on, the unease grew with each passing mile. The lush greenery they had been riding through began to give way to patches of barren earth interspersed with the remaining greenery, creating a patchwork landscape. The was grass withered and dry, crumbling beneath their horses' hooves. As they crested a hill, Hange let out a sharp gasp. "Look!" she cried, pointing to the valley below.

Before them lay a small clearing at the edge of a forest of towering trees. Scattered across the ground were the carcasses of various animals – birds, deer, rabbits, and even a few large bears. Some of the bodies were brutally mutilated, while others appeared to be sucked inwards, their fur pale and brittle.

Hange dismounted immediately, her curiosity overriding any sense of caution. "Oh... Our friend was making a collection, maybe?" She approached one of the carcasses, tapping it with her sword. The body crumbled at her touch, completely desiccated and hollow. "Huh, only a husk left…" she muttered. "It's as if something sucked the very life out of them."

"That Titan couldn't have done this, right?" Petra whispered, her face pale. "A disease, maybe?"

Hange shook her head, still examining the corpses. "Beats me..."

Levi's usual bored tone was tinged with tension as he spoke. "Whatever it is, I doubt it's friendly."

Erwin's jaw tightened as he surveyed the scene. Every instinct told him to turn back, to retreat to the safety of the walls. But the mystery before them demanded answers.

Levi's sharp gaze took in every detail of their surroundings. "There's a trail leading into the forest," he said, pointing to a line of broken branches and trampled undergrowth.

Erwin considered their options. He didn't like this one bit, but if they had stumbled onto something significant, they needed to know. At the very least, they had to find where that abnormal had come from. Then they could return more prepared.

"We press on," he said at last, his voice firm. "But with extreme caution. Miche, you stay back here. If anything goes wrong, we'll fire a flare, you know what to do. Keep a tight perimeter." He turned to Hange. "Your squad stays too."

After some quick arrangements, they continued, the group now consisting of just Erwin, Hange, and Levi's squad.

As they ventured deeper, the forest grew denser, the giant trees casting long shadows. Their horses became increasingly restless, nickering nervously and balking at the darkness between the massive trunks.

"They won't go any further," Eld reported, struggling to control his mount.

Erwin nodded grimly. "We'll proceed on foot. Levi, take your team and scout ahead. Hange and I will secure the horses and follow. If you encounter any danger, retreat immediately."

Levi's squad moved out, their ODM gear hissing as they took to the trees. Erwin dismounted, beginning to tether the horses. Hange joined him, her usual manic energy subdued by the eerie atmosphere.

"You've been unusually quiet, Erwin," Hange observed as they worked. "What's going through that mind of yours?"

Erwin's brow furrowed as he secured a knot. "So far we've seen too little, there's too many unknowns. But whatever's happening here, it's new."

Hange's eyes gleamed with barely contained excitement behind her glasses. "Oh, the possibilities are endless! Could it be a new type of Titan? Or perhaps some kind of Titan disease? Maybe they're evolving, or—"

"Hange," Erwin cut her off gently, "let's not get ahead of ourselves. We need more information before we can start formulating theories."

Hange nodded, though her mind was clearly still racing. "Right, right. Observe first, hypothesize later. But Erwin, you have to admit, this is fascinating! Terrifying, yes, but fascinating!"

As they ventured deeper into the forest, the silence became oppressive, broken only by the soft crunch of leaves beneath their feet. The air felt thick, almost syrupy, making each breath a conscious effort.

They hadn't gone far when Gunther's voice rang out, tight with barely controlled panic. "Commander! You need to see this!"

The group rushed forward, emerging into a small clearing. What they saw there made even the most hardened veterans among them blanch.

Strewn across the forest floor were more animal carcasses, but these were different. They were wrapped in what looked like congealed Titan vomit, the substance black it looked like tar but it had a putrid smell. The area around the bodies was completely barren, the trees twisted and decaying, the grass crumbling to ash beneath their feet.

"What in the name of all that's holy..." Oluo whispered as he covered his nose, his usual bravado completely evaporated.

Hange knelt beside one of the corpses, her brow furrowed, deep in thought. "This substance... it's similar to Titan vomit, but... different. More concentrated, perhaps? And look how it's affected the surrounding area. It's as if it's corroding everything it touches."

Erwin knelt to examine it closer, covering his mouth against the overwhelming stench. The smell was strong enough to make anyone gag, his eyes felt irritated by the substance. Hange, was already taking samples in a small tube.

A twig snapped in the distance, the sound unnaturally loud in the oppressive silence. Every Scout tensed, hands flying to their blade handles.

Erwin's head snapped up, his eyes scanning the shadows between the trees. For a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of movement, a darker shape against the gloom. But when he blinked, it was gone.

And then they came.

Titans burst from the treeline, at least seven of them, their movements jerky and uncoordinated, yet somehow more terrifying for their unpredictability. Parts of their bodies were covered in the same black, decaying substance they had just seen.

"Engage!" Erwin roared, already reaching for his blades.

The Scouts leapt into action, but something was terribly wrong. The Titans moved with an eerie synchronicity, as if guided by some unseen force. They ignored some Scouts entirely while fixating on others with an unnatural intensity.

Levi was a blur of motion, his blades flashing as he cut down Titan after Titan. But even he noticed something odd - the Titans didn't seem to be trying to eat them. They were blocking, evading, and when they did attack, it was aimed at the cables of their ODM gear rather than the Scouts themselves.

"Where the hell did they come from?" Gunther shouted, his voice strained with confusion and fear.

"More abnormals?!" Hange called out, her voice a mix of terror and fascination.

As each Titan fell, their bodies began to evaporate at an alarming rate, far quicker than normal. Their remains dissolved into a thick, steaming slurry that was quickly absorbed by the earth itself, leaving no trace behind.

"They're like the other one!" Petra cried out, her eyes wide with disbelief.

In the chaos of the battle, Erwin caught a glimpse of something that made his blood run cold. There, at the edge of the clearing, stood a figure. It was too far away to make out clearly, but something about its stance, the way it watched the battle with an almost detached curiosity, sent a shiver down his spine.

"Help! It caught me!"​

A scream tore through the air, snapping Erwin back to the present. He turned just in time to see Eld being dragged away by a Titan. But instead of devouring him, the monster simply carried him off, disappearing into the shadows of the forest.

"After it!" Erwin bellowed, but even as the words left his mouth, he knew it was too late.

More Titans poured from the trees, cutting off their pursuit. Erwin couldn't shake the feeling that these weren't random attacks - there was a purpose to their movements, a strategy that defied everything they knew about Titan behavior.

"Damn it!" Levi snarled, launching himself at them. His blades sang through the air as he dispatched one Titan with ease. As he pivoted to engage the next, a sharp tug on his cable threw him off balance. Levi twisted mid-air, slicing through the offending Titan's nape, but the damage was done.

A sharp, metallic snap echoed through the air, followed by the sputtering of Levi's gear. He cursed as he plummeted, bouncing off branches in a barely controlled descent. The forest floor rushed up to meet him, and he braced for impact.

To their surprise, the remaining Titans, instead of giving chase or continuing to fight, retreated into the forest with the same synchronicity as before. They disappeared into the shadows.

"Fall back!" Erwin roared, raising his arm to fire a red flare into the air. The crimson smoke billowed above the treetops as his voice cut through the din of battle. "Back to the horses!"

As they fled, Eld's screams grew fainter, lost in the depths of the forest. The Scouts burst from the treeline, sprinting for their mounts.

Petra's voice cracked with desperation. "We can't leave Eld behind! We have to go back for him!"

"He was right beside me," Oluo muttered, his face ashen. "I should have—"

"We don't have a choice," Levi cut in, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. "We go back, we all die."

Gunther gripped his blades, knuckles white. "But Captain—"

"Levi's right," Erwin interjected, his tone brooking no argument despite the grim set of his jaw. "We don't know how many more of those things are in there. We can't risk it."

The Commander's cool logic contrasted sharply with the raw anguish on the faces of Levi's squad. Erwin's mind raced, weighing the life of one soldier against the unknown threats that could claim them all if they lingered.

As Erwin swung into his saddle, he froze. There, at the edge of the forest, stood that mysterious figure. For a split second, their eyes met - piercing blue locking onto fathomless black. A chill ran down Erwin's spine, a sense of wrongness that defied explanation. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the figure melted back into the shadows.

"Move out!" Erwin commanded, wrenching his gaze away.

The Scouts spurred their horses, racing away from the nightmare behind them. The red smoke of Erwin's flare still hung in the air, a grim beacon looming above the retreating forest.

---

Her eyes were fixed on the distant red smoke billowing against the ashen sky. The acrid scent of gunpowder hung heavy in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood and fear. The wall beneath her feet trembled with each distant impact, a grim reminder of the Titans prowling below.

Around her, chaos reigned supreme. Officers barked orders, their voices cracking as they struggled to maintain some semblance of control. Soldiers milled about in barely contained panic, their faces ashen and drawn. Some huddled in small groups, whispering frantically, while others stood frozen, staring at the crimson beacon with hollow eyes.

"It's over," a soldier nearby muttered, his voice quavering. "We're done for."

"Just a matter of time now," another added, despair dripping from every word.​

"This is my fault... I opened my mouth, what did I get Eren into?" Armin whispered guilt etched across his face.

Anja's fists clenched at her sides, nails biting into her palms as she fought the urge to lash out at such blatant defeatism. Instead, she turned to her friend. His blue eyes were wide with worry.

"What do you think happened?" she asked, her voice low and tense.

"I—I don't—" Armin began, his voice faltering as he struggled to form a coherent thought.

Without warning, Anja grabbed Armin's arm and started running along the wall, her eyes set on that red smoke. "Come on! Whatever it is it's not good!"

They pushed through the frenzied activity atop the wall. Anja collided with cadets carrying gas canisters, nearly sending them sprawling. She didn't slow her pace. They weaved around a group of shell-shocked soldiers, their vacant stares following the pair's progress.

They passed wounded being carried on makeshift stretchers, their agonized groans cutting through the cacophony. The coppery scent of blood grew stronger, and Armin's eyes were glassy as the full weight of their situation hit him.

"So many people..." he gasped between labored breaths. "They're dying because of my plan. I'm responsible for—"

"No!" Anja interrupted fiercely, her grip on his arm tightening. "Everyone's risking their lives because this is our only chance. Your idea is working, Armin. It could save us all. That's why we can't fail now!"

"Guys!" Marco's voice rang out behind them. He and Jean were scrambling up from lower on the wall, their faces etched with concern. "The red flare—what's happening?"

"I don't know!" Anja shouted back, not breaking stride. "We're going to check!"

As they continued their headlong rush, Armin seemed to regain some of his composure. "You're right," he panted, his keen mind already dissecting the problem. "We can't afford to fail. Best case scenario, they've just encountered more Titans and need backup... but that's unlikely."

"Why?" Anja asked, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Eren could have handled ordinary Titans easily," Armin explained, brow furrowed in concentration. "We saw him transform…So it has to be something else."

---

Anja and Armin's figures grew smaller in the distance, Jean turned to Marco and Sasha, his face a mask of barely contained frustration.

"Where the hell are they going?" he demanded, running a hand through his hair.

Marco's expression was grim. "They're going to see what's wrong... If Eren's failed—"

"Hey, don't go writing him off just yet," Jean interrupted his tone forcefully light. "This is Jaeger we're talking about. That suicidal maniac is too stubborn to give up so easily."

"You're right," Marco nodded, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "We have to believe he can still pull this off."

"Fat lot of good that'll do if we just stand around," Sasha growled, her knuckles white around her blade hilt. Her eyes gleamed with a dangerous light, a far cry from her usual carefree demeanor.

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by an officer's bellow. "Cadets! We've got Titans peeling off! Form up in groups of three! We're luring them back to our position!"

Their conversation was interrupted by an officer's shout. "All cadets! Listen up, we've got Titans peeling off! Split into groups of three! Check your gear, we'll be luring them back towards our position!"

"Be better if we just killed 'em," Sasha muttered, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous light.

"Don't be an idiot," Jean snapped, grabbing her arm. "It's a damn swarm down there. You'll get yourself killed in seconds."

"What's the situation?" Annie's cool voice cut through their argument. She approached with Bertholdt and Reiner in tow, her usual mask of indifference slipping to reveal a hint of concern.

"Something's up with Jaeger, probably." Jean explained quickly. "Wolf and Armin just took off to—"

"What?" Annie's composure cracked for a moment, worry creasing her brow.

Reiner stepped forward, his broad shoulders set with resolve. "Whatever's happening, we stick to our orders," he said, his voice steady and authoritative. "No heroics from anyone. Our job is to keep the Titans away from that breach, no matter what."

---

Their lungs burned as they finally reached their destination, the familiar silhouette of Eren's Titan form coming into view. Armin and Anja skidded to a halt, taking in the grim scene before them. Two Titans lumbered nearby, their massive forms casting long shadows in the fading light. The Garrison elite fought desperately, their ODM gear hissing as they zipped between the monsters.

Eren's Titan body was slumped against a giant boulder, steam rising from his face and hands. Mikasa stood before him, standing atop a fallen Titan, her blades dripping with evaporating Titan blood.

"Mikasa!" Armin called out, his voice cracking with exhaustion and fear. "What happened?"

Mikasa's eyes flickered to them, relief washing over her features briefly before the gravity of the situation reasserted itself. "Stay back!" she warned, her voice tight with tension. "Eren lost control. He tried to attack me, then hit himself. Now he won't respond."

Without hesitation, Armin leaped down towards Eren's slumped body, his face set with determination.

"Armin, what are you doing?" Anja cried, her heart leaping into her throat.

Armin latched himself to Eren's nape with his ODM gear, the cables hissing as they embedded into the Titan flesh. "He came out of the titan's nape before… Must be how these things work," he shouted back, his voice barely audible over the chaos around them. "I'll pull him out!"

Anja watched, her breath caught in her throat, as Armin measured carefully with his blade. "As long as I don't hit the center, Eren should be fine," he muttered, more to himself than to them.

"This might hurt…" Armin called out, his voice strained. "Trust me Anja! Help Mikasa, buy me some time."

Anja nodded, forcing confidence into her voice. "Be careful."

As Anja moved to join Mikasa, Eren's Titan form let out an earth-shattering roar. Armin had pierced the nape and now clung desperately as the Titan thrashed in place, screaming. Anja and Mikasa tensed, their bodies coiled and ready to spring into action if needed.

"It has to work," Anja muttered, her nails digging into her palms.

Mikasa's face was a mask of focus, her eyes darting between Eren and the approaching Titans. Four more were coming from the breach, one from the wall. Anja's stomach churned as she realized they might have been drawn by Eren's scream.

"We can't handle them all," Mikasa said, her voice low and grim. "Even with two Garrison elite teams… if they group up, we're finished."

Anja tightened her grip on her blades, the leather handles creaking under the pressure. She felt the familiar surge of bloodlust rising within her, a primal urge to tear and rend. 'Not now,' she thought, forcing it down with every ounce of willpower she possessed. "I've got your back, Mikasa."

Mikasa turned to her, dark eyes burning with intensity. "Anja, remember what's at stake. Eren and Armin's lives are on the line. Don't push yourself, don't go off alone. We stick together. Understood?"

"Yeah… I know…" Anja replied, swallowing hard.

Mikasa nodded, and they set off towards the nearest Titan – a 10-meter class that had managed to slip past the Garrison elite team. It moved straight for Eren, its massive feet shaking the ground with each step.

They moved in sync, their moves hammered into their muscle memory after countless of hours of training.

Mikasa went from behind while Anja approached from the side. Anja shot past the Titan in a blur, her blades slicing deep into its flank. The monster stumbled, giving Mikasa the opening she needed. She struck from behind, her blades carving a perfect, lethal arc through the Titan's nape.

They landed on a nearby rooftop, Anja panting heavily as the Titan's blood steamed from her blades. Mikasa gave her a quick nod of approval before her attention snapped to the Garrison elite struggling with two 12 meter Titans. Without a word, she launched herself towards them.

Anja took a moment to survey the hellish scene. She glanced back at Eren; Armin still clung to his nape, lips moving rapidly as he spoke to his friend. Her gaze shifted to the breach where three more Titans poured through, then back to the wall. Four?! A sinking feeling settled in her gut as she realized their strategy was unraveling.

How long can we keep this up?​

She glanced down at her blade, watching as the last of the Titan blood evaporated. In the reflection of the clean metal, something caught her eye that made her blood run cold.

Behind her, barely visible on the blade's surface, loomed a Titan, with ashen sickly skin.

It was hairless, its jaw hung slack, strings of blackish saliva, like tar, dripping from its maw. But its eyes... they were different. Not the vacant, mindless orbs she was used to, but filled with an unsettling intelligence.

Pure, unadulterated terror froze Anja in place. The Titan watched her, its gaze boring into her with intense predatory focus. She had no idea where it had come from, how it had managed to slip by unnoticed. Her body moved on instinct, even as her mind reeled in shock.

Just as she began to fall back, the Titan's massive hand reached for her. A blur of motion crossed her vision. Mikasa struck with lightning speed, her blades slicing clean through the Titan's nape. It fell back into the street with a thunderous crash that shook the buildings around them.

"Anja! Are you alright?!" Mikasa called out, landing beside her with catlike grace.

Anja stood there, stunned, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. "It—It just—"

"Keep it together!" Mikasa snapped, grabbing Anja's arm and pulling her up. "That thing could have eaten you."

As Anja regained her footing, she looked to where the Titan had fallen. It had already disintegrated, leaving behind nothing but steam hanging in the air. "It came out of nowhere..."

Mikasa's brow furrowed, her eyes scanning their surroundings with renewed intensity. "I'll stay closer to you... Something's not right. There are far too many coming. There aren't enough of us to draw this much attention, unless..."

"It's Eren," Mikasa concluded, her voice tight with worry. "They have to be coming after him..."

As the gravity of their situation settled over her, Anja felt something shift inside. Her movements felt sluggish, lacking the strength she knew she possessed. She was holding back, she realized, restraining the part of herself that could make a difference. Even now, that darker side of her was screaming to be released, the need to kill growing louder and louder.

She shook her head violently, memories of Nac's agonized screams and Annie's terror-stricken eyes flashing through her mind. No, it was too dangerous. She couldn't risk losing control, not when her friends' lives hung in the balance.

A grim resolve settled over her. If push came to shove, if there was no other choice, she would draw the Titans in and fight to her last breath. But not now, not when so much was at stake.

She'd do whatever it took to ensure Eren succeeded.

Just as this thought crystallized in her mind, another roar shook the air around them. Eren's Titan form stirred, muscles tensing as he began to move.

Hope fluttered in Anja's chest once more, fragile but persistent.

They weren't beaten yet.

---

An eerie stillness had fallen over the streets of Trost, punctuated only by the distant echoes of battle. Sasha, Marco, and Jean crouched behind a crumbling wall, their eyes fixed on two Titans clumsily moving nearby. Sasha's fingers tightened around her blade hilts, her body coiled like a spring ready to release.

The Garrison officer that had been leading them muttered a curse, his weathered face etched with worry. His uniform was stained with sweat and grime, a testament to the grueling hours of combat. Marco turned to him, concern furrowing his brow. "Sir?"

The officer's gaze darted between the Titans and his squad, his voice low and urgent. "For some reason some are falling back. Remember your orders - do not engage. Lure them to the wall, nothing more." He paused, his tone softening. "I won't have any of you dying on my watch—"

"Movement!" Sasha's hissed warning cut through the air like a knife.

Before they could react, a massive hand shot around the corner. The officer's words twisted into screams as the Titan lifted him, its teeth sinking into his neck with a sickening crunch. His cries gurgled and faded, replaced by the wet, tearing sounds of the Titan's feast.

Sasha was moving before the officer's body hit the ground, her ODM gear hissing as she launched herself skyward. Blades glinted in the sunlight as she arced towards the Titan's nape.

"Sasha, no!" Jean's desperate cry went unheeded as he scrambled after her, heart pounding in his ears.

The battle erupted in a blur of motion. Sasha's blades sang through the air, carving a deadly path through the first Titan's nape. As it began to fall, the second Titan's hand came crashing down. Sasha twisted mid-air, the wind from the massive palm buffeting her as she narrowly evaded its grasp.

Jean seized the moment, swooping in from behind. His blades bit deep, and the second Titan collapsed in a billowing cloud of steam.

They landed hard on a nearby rooftop, chests heaving. Jean rounded on Sasha, his face a mask of fury and fear. "What the hell were you thinking?! We're supposed to fall back!"

"Don't be a coward!" Sasha snarled, her eyes wild with a cocktail of grief and rage.

Jean's expression hardened, his voice sharp as steel. "Enough with the heroics! I've had it with people dying!" He gestured violently towards the officer's mangled remains. "You think your death would mean something? Wake up! We're here to lure them away, not throw our lives away! One wrong move and you'd have ended up just like him!"

Marco joined them, his calm voice a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air. "Jean's right, Sasha. Our job is containment. We have to trust the others to do their part... or all of this is for nothing."

Sasha's knuckles whitened around her blade hilts, her voice low and dangerous. "No, you're the ones who don't get it. They're the only ones who win if we hold back." She jabbed her bloodied sword towards the fallen Titans, steam still rising from their corpses. "They took one of ours? We take two of theirs. That's how we avenge our friends. Leave them alive, and they'll just come back to eat more of us."

"Sasha..." Marco began, but his words were drowned out by a bone-shaking roar that split the air.

They all flinched, heads whipping towards the source of the sound. "What was that?" Jean breathed, eyes wide.

Without a word, they fired their grappling hooks, soaring to a higher vantage point. Their eyes strained through the haze of battle, searching for the source of the earth-shattering cry.

In the distance, a massive form came into view. Marco squinted, trying to make sense of the chaos. "That's..."

"Eren," Jean breathed, disbelief coloring his voice as recognition dawned. "The son of a bitch is actually doing it!"

They watched in awe as Eren's Titan form lumbered forward, the massive boulder balanced precariously on his shoulders. It was an incredible sight, one that filled them with a spark of hope.

However, Marco's expression quickly grew grim as his gaze swept the area between their position and Eren. "There are far too many Titans moving towards him. I count at least five, maybe more behind the buildings."

"They're drawn to him like moths to a flame," Sasha muttered.

Jean's brow furrowed, a hint of fear creeping into his voice. "The other teams must be struggling. There shouldn't be nearly this many in the area."

Marco's voice took on a note of command, his eyes never leaving the unfolding battle. "We have to try and herd them back, buy Eren as much time as we can."

He pointed to a cluster of isolated Titans. "If we can lure those away from the main group..."

Sasha opened her mouth to argue, but Marco cut her off, his tone brooking no argument. "We can't risk a direct confrontation. Not now, not with so much at stake. We draw them away, pick them off one by one if we can."

They sprang into action, zipping between buildings and shouting to attract the Titans' attention. At first, it seemed to work. A few of the lumbering giants turned, their dead eyes fixing on the small, fast-moving targets.

Jean swooped low, his voice rising above the chaos. "Come on, you ugly bastards! This way!"

For a moment, two Titans began to advance after him. But as Jean led them further from Eren, their movements became sluggish, their heads turning back towards the distant form of Eren's Titan.

"They're not following!" Sasha called out, frustration evident in her voice. She fired a grappling hook, swinging past a Titan's face close enough to feel its hot, fetid breath. The monster's hand swiped at her, but its movements were half-hearted at best. The Titan followed Sasha for a short distance before breaking off, continuing its inexorable march towards Eren.

Seizing the brief moment of distraction, Jean pounced. His blades gleamed in the sunlight as he carved through the Titan's nape in a spray of steam and blood. But even as it fell, he could see the others slipping away, drawn by some invisible force towards Eren's position.

As they regrouped on a nearby rooftop, Jean's face was grim. "Damn it all. At this rate, we'll end up caught between Eren and a horde of Titans."

"Where are the other teams?!" Sasha growled, frustration evident in every line of her body.

From their precarious perch, they could now see Eren more clearly. He moved with agonizing slowness, the massive boulder balanced on his shoulders seeming to dwarf even his Titan form. Titans poured in from all directions, and flashes of steel in the waning sunlight spoke of the desperate fighting raging around him.

"He's almost there!" Jean exclaimed, a note of desperate hope in his voice. Eren couldn't be more than a hundred paces from the outer gate.

Marco's keen eyes caught a flash of movement amidst the chaos. A small figure with blonde hair was zipping through the air with precise ODM maneuvers, heading directly towards Eren's position.

"I think I see Annie," Marco said, squinting to make sure. "That has to be her. She's heading straight for Eren. No sign of Bertholdt or—"

His words were cut short by a brilliant flash of yellowish light at the breach, accompanied by a deafening thunderclap. The sound reverberated through their bodies, shaking the rooftop beneath their feet.

Seconds later, a shockwave hit them, whipping their hair and stirring up dust as it passed.

As the light faded and the echoes died away, an unnatural silence fell over the battlefield. Steam billowed from the outer wall, obscuring whatever had materialized there. But through the haze, they could see two points of orange light, glowing with the intensity of hellfire itself.

The steam began to clear, revealing a form that made their blood run cold. It was a Titan, but unlike any they had ever seen. Its entire body was encased in what appeared to be plates of armor, gleaming white against the fading light. Its face was a mask of bone and sinew, those burning eyes fixed unerringly on Eren.

"What... what is that thing?" Sasha whispered, her voice trembling.

Jean's face had drained of all color, his eyes wide with horrified. "No... it can't be..."

Marco's breath caught in his throat as the terrible realization dawned.

The Armored Titan.​

/

/

/

Note: I hope you enjoyed the chapter! It was already reaching 9k, so I decided to split it into two parts to keep it more manageable. On the bright side, expect Part 2 to be released next Thursday or earlier (barring any complications on my end). Also, I finally got around to finishing an image for Chapter 10, which I've included with this update. I hope you like it!

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter XV: Crimson Horizon (Part II)

---

The world exploded in a blinding flash of light, followed by a thunderous boom that shook the very foundations of Trost. Anja found herself airborne, her ODM cables snapping under the force of the shockwave. For a heart-stopping moment, she was in freefall.

She slammed into broken rubble, the impact driving the air from her lungs. Pain blossomed across her body as stitches tore loose, warm blood trickling down her back. Her ears rang, a high-pitched whine drowning out all other sound. Dust and debris choked the air, turning the world into a hazy, brown nightmare.

As her senses slowly returned, Anja pushed herself up, blinking away the grit in her eyes. Through the settling dust, the scene before her unfolded like a hellish painting.

"Help me! I don't want to die—" The desperate plea was abruptly silenced as a Garrison soldier, partially buried under debris, was snatched from the ground by a grinning Titan. The sound of crushing bones and wet tearing flesh drowned out his cries.

Nearby, another soldier hung from a frayed ODM cable, shrieking and thrashing wildly as a Titan's massive hand enclosed around his waist. A nauseating snap echoed through the air, followed by an eerie stillness.

But something was off. The Titans' dead eyes constantly darted towards the source of the explosion. At least two of them stumbled through the breach, while more could be seen coming from the city like a grotesque waterfall of flesh.

"Armin? Mikasa? Eren? Anyone?" Anja called out, her voice hoarse and shaky.

"It's the Armored Titan!" A soldier shouted, his face pale with terror as he pointed towards the breach.

Anja's eyes widened as she followed his gaze.

Suddenly, she was a child again, watching from afar as Wall Maria crumbled. Those same burning orange orbs that blazed with cruel intelligence as the world she knew came crashing down. Now, five years later, history seemed poised to repeat itself.

Anja's fists clenched so tightly that her nails bit into her palms, drawing blood. Her jaw ached from gritting her teeth, fighting to keep control. Not now.

"What---It's not possible," Armin's voice came from nearby. Anja scrambled to help him up, both of them staring in horror at the scene unfolding before them.

Eren, still in his Titan form, stood between the Armored Titan and them. For a moment, hope flared in Anja's chest. He dropped the boulder with a thunderous crash, a roar tore from his throat as he charged straight at the Armored Titan.

"Eren! Don't do it!" Armin cried out, but it was too late.

Their clash sounded like an explosion. Eren's fists flew in a blur of motion, each impact releasing bursts of steam. His fingers dug into the Armored Titan's plating, searching for purchase as he attempted to grapple his opponent. The ground shook beneath their feet, creaking and breaking under the force of their struggle.

"Look! He's pushing it back!" Anja exclaimed, a flicker of hope rekindling in her chest.

But as the steam cleared, that hope twisted into confusion. The two titans that had stumbled through the breach were now upon the battling giants. One sank its teeth into the Armored Titan's plating, while the other took a vicious bite out of Eren's shoulder. Eren roared with fury, his grip on the Armored Titan faltering.

"What the—" Armin's eyes were wide.

In a blindingly fast motion, the Armored Titan seized the opportunity. It grabbed Eren, lifted him overhead, and with a powerful twist, hurled him away into a cluster of nearby buildings. The impact sent a tremor through the ground, dust and debris billowing outward in a choking cloud.

"No!" Anja's anguished cry cut through the chaos.

Her heart sank as she watched the Armored Titan turn its attention to the Titans that had interrupted their fight, crushing them with ease. It stood unscathed, its plated body unmarred by the onslaught, while Eren lay motionless in the rubble.

Suddenly, like an avenging angel, Mikasa streaked past them, she was a blur of motion as she rocketed towards the Armored Titan. Her blades flashed in the light as she struck at its nape with all her might. But the swords shattered on impact, leaving not even a scratch on the plates.

The Armored Titan continued its relentless advance towards Eren's prone form, ignoring Mikasa as if she were no more than an insect. Around them, more Titans converged, drawn by some unseen force. One, then three, then more – a growing horde all moving towards them.

"It's going to kill him," She whispered, the words barely audible over the thunderous footsteps of approaching Titans.

Anja's breath caught in her throat, the taste of copper filling her mouth as she bit her cheek. The beast within her roared, demanding release, the bloodthirst almost maddening. She closed her eyes tightly.

Breathe. Focus. Don't listen.

Her hand clutched her brother's pendant, the metal digging into her bloodied palm. It was the only thing anchoring her to reality as the world crumbled around her once again.

---

Atop Wall Rose, Commander Dot Pyxis stood like a weathered statue, his keen eyes scanning the chaos below. The ghost of the fall of Shiganshina seemed to loom over them, their chance of hope crushed as surely as Eren Jaeger's Titan form lay broken amidst the rubble.

"Sir," Anka's trembling voice spoke up beside him. The aide's face was ashen, her eyes wide with horror. "Most of the Garrison elite... they've fallen. We can't even see if any survived down there. And Jaeger, he's not moving..."

Captain Woermann, turned to Pyxis with desperate hope in his eyes. "Commander, perhaps the Scouts will appear from the breach. They could bring the reinforcements we need—"

Pyxis cut him off, his voice heavy with grim certainty. "The Scouts should have returned by now. Something must have gone wrong with their expedition."

Pyxis's jaw tightened. He'd been counting on Erwin and his soldiers to provide crucial support. Their absence was a complication they could ill afford.

"We stand alone then," he muttered, more to himself than to the subordinates beside him. With a practiced motion, he pulled out his silver flask, uncorked it, and downed its contents in one long swallow.

"Commander!" the aide exclaimed, scandalized.

Pyxis raised a hand, savoring the burn. "Ah," he sighed contentedly, then gestured to the nearby soldier. "A spyglass, if you please."

As the soldier handed it over, Pyxis raised it to his eye. His razor-sharp gaze tracked the movements below, analyzing the battlefield with the precision of a seasoned tactician. Eren Jaeger's Titan form lay motionless amidst the rubble of collapsed buildings, steam rising from his battered body. The Armored Titan advanced steadily, its focus unnervingly fixed on the fallen soldier.

"Now isn't that curious," Pyxis mused, stroking his mustache. "Our armored friend seems more interested in young Jaeger than our lovely gate. I wonder why?"

Around him, the atmosphere was thick with despair. Soldiers whispered frantically, their faces ashen with fear.

"It's over..."

"We're all going to die..."

"Wall Rose will fall, just like Maria..."​

Pyxis turned to address the assembled troops, his voice carrying across the wall. "Soldiers! Lend me your ears!"

The murmurs died down as all eyes turned to the commander.

"I see fear in your eyes. I hear despair in your whispers. And I understand. The enemy before us is the same who broke through Wall Maria, we have faced it before and failed..."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the gathered soldiers.

"But let me ask you this: If we don't face it here, where? If not now, when? If not us, who?"

Pyxis's voice grew stronger, filled with conviction. "This is the moment that will define us. The moment that will decide the fate of humanity. We stand here, not just as soldiers, but as the shield that protects everything we hold dear."

He gestured towards the ruined city below. "Our homes, our families, our very future hangs in the balance. And yes, the odds are against us. Yes, the enemy is formidable. But we have something they don't – we have the unbreakable spirit of humanity!"

A ripple of energy passed through the crowd as Pyxis continued, "If we fall here, if we give up now, then humanity is truly doomed. What will the history books say? That we decided to give in? That we cowered and ran in the face of adversity? Or that we fought, gave it everything we had. That we secured a chance to turn the tide. A chance to secure a future for those we love. The future of the human race itself!"

His voice rose to a crescendo, "So I ask you, soldiers of humanity: Will you resign yourselves to defeat? Or will you fight with every fiber of your being for this victory?"

A roar of determination rose from the assembled troops, the fear in their eyes replaced by a steely resolve.

Pyxis nodded, a fierce smile on his weathered face. "That's the spirit! Now, let's give our armored friend down there something to think about besides Jaeger, shall we?"

Turning to his aides, a gleam returned to Pyxis's eyes. "You know, I've always wondered what it would be like to arm wrestle a Titan."

Captain Woermann looked at him in disbelief, but Pyxis just chuckled.

"Now, now, Woermann, don't look so glum. If we're going to dance with death, we might as well enjoy the music, eh?"

"Captain," Pyxis said, his tone shifting to one of command, "I'm issuing new orders. Our priority is to extract Cadet Jaeger. We cannot allow that monstrosity to kill him."

Woermann's eyes widened. "But sir, the gate-"

"Will hold," Pyxis cut him off firmly. "For now, at least. That thing isn't interested in breaching it, not yet."

His face grew serious once more as he addressed the gathered soldiers. "Listen well! Continue baiting the Titans near the corner of the wall. I want all of our best soldiers left and any willing volunteers to join Captain Woermann to extract Cadet Eren Jaeger. You will create a diversion to buy time for a small team to retrieve him. Once he's secure, fall back to defend the inner gate. Understood?"

A chorus of "Yes, sir!" rang out, tinged with renewed determination.

As the chosen team ran along the wall, Pyxis watched them go, his face set in lines of determination. This was it – the moment that would decide the fate of humanity. And despite the overwhelming odds, despite the terror and chaos below, Dot Pyxis found himself grinning in the face of the storm.

"Well, my friends," he said to his aides, raising his empty flask in a mock toast, "here's to making history – or becoming it. Either way, it's bound to be one hell of a ride."

---

The rubble-strewn streets of Trost lay silent, a deceptive calm before the storm. Behind a collapsed wall, the remaining survivors huddled, their faces etched with exhaustion and fear. Anja's eyes swept over the group: six Garrison elite soldiers, their uniforms caked with dust and blood, tending to wounds with trembling hands. Mikasa stood like a coiled spring, her gaze fixed on Eren's fallen Titan form in the distance. Armin crouched at the edge of their cover, his blue eyes darting between the Armored Titan and the surrounding chaos.

"It doesn't make sense," Armin muttered, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Why isn't it going for the inner gate? It's practically undefended...Unless... It's targeting Eren, why?"

"Now is not the time," Mikasa snapped her usual composure fracturing. "We have to save him!"

"Wait," Anja interjected, grabbing Mikasa's arm. "Look!"

She pointed at the Armored Titan. As they watched, three Titans ran towards it, pulled by some inexplicable magnetism. The smaller Titans began to claw at the armor or bite it, one even trying to scale its plated body. Their teeth shattered against the armor, yet they persisted with mindless determination.

"Just like before, they're attacking it..."

Armin's eyes widened. "The Titans must be drawn to it, just like they are to Eren! We can use that to our advantage."

"So what?" A white-haired Garrison elite cut in, her voice sharp with despair. "They're not even scratching it! Captain, this is a waste of time and lives. We have to retreat."

Another soldier, his face a mask of grief, nodded. "All of my soldiers are dead... This is suicide."

Their Captain, a man with a stern face and grey eyes that burned with determination silenced them with a look. "We all agreed to this knowing the consequences if we failed. If there's still a chance we might win, I want to hear it."

Armin spoke quickly, his words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "If we lure more Titans to the Armored, we could slow it down, the bigger they are the better. With enough of them, we should be able to pin it down, or at least considerably slow it. That should buy us enough time to get Eren out of there..."

Ian nodded slowly, the weight of the decision visible in the set of his shoulders. "It's risky, but it might be our only shot against that thing." He turned to address the group, his voice ringing with authority. "Listen up! We'll split into two teams."

His gaze fell on Armin, Anja, and Mikasa. "You three, make a beeline for Jaeger. Protect him at all costs. If he's able to stand again, I want him to plug that hole. If not, get him the hell out of here." The three nodded grimly.

"Ian, this is not going to work—" the white-haired soldier began, her voice cracking.

"Rico, you will go with them," Ian ordered, cutting her off. "Cover their asses. That's an order."

"The rest of you on me. Don't let the Armored get anywhere near Jaeger! Draw as many Titans as you can towards it. There's no time to lose, move out!"

As they prepared to leave, Anja caught Armin's arm. "This plan," she said softly, the words barely audible over the constant, heavy footsteps of nearby Titans, "It's too dangerous... There's too many of them."

Armin's eyes were haunted, the weight of responsibility etched in every line of his face. "I know. But if it works, if we can save Eren and stop that thing... it has to..."

Anja nodded, not entirely sure, but her trust in Armin was absolute. He'd been right so many times before; this wouldn't be any different.

As they launched into action, Rico's voice voice carried over the commotion, thick with emotion. "Remember their faces well. These soldiers are laying down their lives to save your friend. I hope it's worth it."

The words hit Anja like a physical blow, guilt coiling in her gut. But there was no time to dwell on it. They were airborne, ODM gear whining as they raced towards Eren's prone form. Ahead, several Titans tried to get near him. They'd have no choice but to fight through.

Ian and his team sprang into action, their voices rising in a desperate chorus as they sought to draw the Titans' attention. "Over here, you bastards!" Ian roared, swooping low over a 7-meter class. The Titan's head snapped towards him.

For a heart-stopping moment, it seemed to be working. Five, then seven Titans chased after them, their attention quickly shifting towards the Armored behemoth once they were close enough. A spark of hope flared in Anja's chest. Maybe, just maybe, this insane plan would work.

Suddenly, a ragged scream tore through the air. Anja's head whipped around, just in time to see one of the elite soldiers disappear into a Titan's maw. There was a sickening crunch, and then silence. The Titan tossed his broken body aside like a discarded toy.

"Don't stop moving!" Rico shouted. "Don't let their sacrifices be in vain!"

Anja's team pressed on, Rico and Mikasa carving a path through any Titan that dared cross their path. But the screams from Ian's team were impossible to ignore. Each cry cut off mid-scream was another life lost, another sacrifice made.

They reached Eren's motionless Titan form, but he remained unresponsive. Mikasa and Rico fought like demons possessed, their blades flashing as they carved through Titan after Titan. Anja covered Armin as he desperately tried to reach Eren, to wake him somehow.

A bone-shaking roar drew Anja's attention back to Ian's team. Only two soldiers remained, surrounded by six Titans that were grabbing and biting at the Armored. With one free hand, the Armored caught one mid-air.

"Mitabi!" Ian's desperate shout echoed through the air.

For a split second, Anja saw the terror in Mitabi's eyes before the Titan's fingers closed. Blood sprayed as the soldier was crushed, his body flung away with casual brutality.

"You son of a bitch!" Ian's scream was one of pure rage and anguish.

As Ian swooped around for another pass, the Armored hand shot out. He dodged, but it wasn't going after him; it grabbed his ODM cable. Anja watched in horror as it sent him hurtling through the air with a casual flick. The cable, wrapped around his arm and went taut. There was a spray of red, a scream that would haunt Anja's nightmares, Ian crashed into a nearby building, disappearing from sight.

The Armored began pushing away the Titans, hammering their heads with brutal efficiency. It was clearly growing tired of this game, being drawn back but steadily freeing itself. The unstoppable force advanced, its plated feet crushing debris and fallen bodies alike. With each step, it drew closer to Eren's prone form, its burning eyes fixed on its target with terrifying intensity.

"It's not working," Armin cried, despair etched on his face. His eyes, usually so bright with intelligence, were dull with hopelessness. He pounded on Eren's Titan form, desperately trying to reach his friend. "Eren! Please!"

Anja's heartbeat thundered in her ears, drowning out the chaos around her. Rico and Mikasa's battle cries seemed distant, muffled. The world narrowed to a pinpoint of focus: the Armored Titan's advance and Eren's unmoving form. Her gaze fixed on Eren's fallen shape, his Titan's eyes blank, steam rising from his body. Armin was frantically cutting away flesh, trying to reach him.

"Get him out of there, now!" Mikasa shouted from above as she slayed another Titan.

"There's not enough time! Fall back!" Rico's command pierced the air.

Anja's gaze locked onto the Armored Titan as it finally shook off the last Titan grabbing at it, steam billowing from its mouth as it advanced towards them. She closed her eyes.

Their plan had failed, how many died just to get here, all for nothing? Humanity's last hope lay motionless before them.

The beast within her roared. She had sworn to herself that she would not give in, but now there was no other choice. Now, that moment had arrived. It was this, or watching everyone she cared about die.

She turned to Armin, a silent apology in her eyes. Would she forget afterward? Perhaps it would be the last time she'd see him. See any of them again. But she had already made her choice.

"Take care of them for me."

Before he could respond, before the question in his eyes could form into words, Anja hurled herself towards the Armored Titan. Her body trembled with barely controlled bloodlust, a manic energy surging through her veins. The crimson haze descended over her vision, bringing with it a terrible clarity.

As Anja surrendered to that fury within. She let out a scream of defiance that echoed across the battlefield, a promise and a threat rolled into one:

"I will tear you apart!"

The behemoth regarded her with indifference, its massive arm swinging lazily in her direction. Anja twisted mid-air, narrowly avoiding the blow, but her momentum carried her straight into another Titan lurking behind the Armored.

The impact was jarring. Anja's blades sank deep into the Titan's flesh, tearing through skin like a knife through butter. Boiling blood sprayed, some of it splattering across her face and into her mouth. She barely registered the taste, her mind razor-sharp with focused rage, fixed solely on her true prey.

As the Titan she'd crashed into began to fall, Anja wrenched herself free, leaving a messy, gaping wound. Her movements were wild, uncontrolled, driven by pure reflex rather than skill. A guttural growl rumbled in her chest.

"Where are you going?!"

Her world had narrowed to a single point: the Armored Titan. Without hesitation, she launched herself at it once more.

She latched onto its back, fingers finding purchase in the gaps between its bone-like plates. The world reduced to a blur of motion and the thunderous pounding of her own heart. With reckless abandon, she plunged her blades into every exposed bit of flesh she could find. Each strike sent a jolt of savage pleasure through her arms.

Rend. Tear. Destroy.

To the Armored Titan, her attacks were mere pinpricks, a buzzing annoyance. Yet Anja's erratic movements and relentless assault made her difficult to dislodge. It twisted and turned, its massive hands swiping at her. The rush of air from each near-miss only fueled her frenzy.

Suddenly, the world spun. The Armored Titan's fingers closed around her, wrenching her from its back. For a breathless moment, Anja was airborne, then impact.

She lay there, the sweet taste of blood filling her mouth. Her body should have been screaming in agony, but all she felt was a burning need to continue the fight. Through blurred red vision, she saw the Armored Titan turn away, dismissing her.

No. Not done.

---

Atop the wall, Annie watched the scene unfold with growing desperation. Her icy blue eyes were fixed on Anja's fallen form, her normally stoic expression fracturing under the weight of mounting panic and frustration.

"Damn it, this can't be happening…" she hissed through gritted teeth, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. Her nails dug crescents into her palms as she fought to maintain control. "This can't be happening."

"You idiot," she muttered, her voice barely audible over the chaos below. The words were tinged with a mix of anger and despair.

Everything was unraveling before her eyes. Anja's intervention, the increased Titan presence – it was all spiraling out of control. The weight of it all threatened to crush her.

Annie's mind raced. She had to do something, anything to stop this madness. But what? Every option seemed to lead to further disaster, to more death.

She took a step forward, her body tense with indecision. Before she could move further, Bertholdt's voice cut through her tumultuous thoughts.

"Annie," he pleaded nervously, sensing her growing agitation. "We need to stick to the plan…"

But Annie wasn't listening. Her gaze was locked on the battlefield below, on Anja rising once more to face the Armored Titan. In that moment, all thoughts of plans and missions faded away, replaced by a singular, desperate need to act.

Without a word, she turned and ran, ignoring Bertholdt's desperate call behind her.

---

Anja staggered to her feet, blood roaring in her ears. The world sharpened to crystal clarity, every detail etched in stark relief. The Armored Titan's glowing eyes caught her attention, challenging her, drawing her in like a moth to a flame.

More. Need more. Destroy it.

For a moment, Anja stood motionless, her eyes locked on the Armored Titan. Her pupils dilated until they nearly swallowed the green of her irises, leaving them black and fathomless. Blood dripped from her fingers, her face a mask of primal fury. She bared her teeth in a feral grin, a low, inhuman growl rumbling from deep in her chest.

The Armored Titan paused, its burning gaze locking onto Anja once more. For a split second, something akin to hesitation flickered in those fiery depths. This small, blood-soaked creature before it radiated an aura of unbridled savagery that gave even the behemoth pause.

In that moment of hesitation, Anja moved without thought, without hesitation, a blur of motion and murderous intent. Her ODM gear propelled her forward at breakneck speed, far too fast for the Armored Titan's grasping hands. The distance closed in heartbeats. The Titan's eye grew larger, filling her vision. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed.

Impact.

The Armored Titan's head snapped back from the force. The sound of shattering crystal filled the air, a high-pitched shriek that set teeth on edge. The pale orange armor around the eye socket resisted for a split second before spider-web cracks spreading across its surface. Then it exploded outward in a shower of glittering shards.

Her blades sank deep, burying to the hilt in the Titan's eye. Steam and boiling blood billowed from the ruined eye socket. A roar of pain and rage erupted from the behemoth

The beast within her howled.

More.

---

Armin's hands trembled as he struggled to drag Eren's limp form from the steaming carcass of his Titan. His mind reeled, trying to process the impossible scene before him. Anja, her small frame dwarfed by the Armored Titan, had somehow managed to wound the seemingly invulnerable behemoth.

The Armored Titan's agonized roar shook the very ground beneath them. Armin's breath caught in his throat as he watched it thrash, its massive hand moving erratically as if trying to swat an annoying insect. Something had changed. The behemoth's reactions seemed slower, less coordinated. As it twisted to avoid another of Anja's strikes, Armin caught a glimpse of something unexpected – a small piece of its armor crumbling away, falling to the ground in a shower of crystalline shards

"The armor..." he muttered, his mind racing. "It's shedding it?"

So focused was he on watching the battle, he didn't notice a looming shadow until it was almost too late. A giant hand reached for them, and Armin's heart stopped—

The whistle of ODM gear cut through the air, followed by the wet thunk of blades meeting flesh. The Titan crumpled to the ground, spraying blood. Sasha landed beside them.

"S-Sasha?" Armin stammered, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious, you suicidal idiots?" Jean's voice cut in as he and Marco touched down nearby. "We're saving your asses."

Marco immediately moved to help Armin with Eren. "We tried to stop them from coming, but there are too many," he explained, his voice strained with effort as they lifted Eren between them. "They didn't even come after us. Then we saw... that thing appear."

"Is that—Is that Anja?" Sasha's voice was filled with a mix of awe and horror as she watched the battle raging before them.

Armin's gaze snapped back to the fight. Anja was a blur of motion, darting around the Armored Titan with inhuman speed and ferocity. The Armored Titan's movements, while still devastatingly powerful, lacked the grace it had displayed earlier. Its attacks seemed more desperate, fueled by rage rather than calculated strength. The behemoth, fixated on Anja, seemed to have forgotten about the other Titans converging on it.

"It's slowing down," Armin breathed, his mind racing. "The other Titans—they're not even trying to catch Anja. They're all focused on the Armored."

"Armin!" Mikasa's voice cut through the chaos as she landed next to them, her face etched with worry. "Is Eren—"

"He's alive," Armin assured her quickly. "Where's Rico?"

"I lost track her. We need to leave, get him to safety while we can."

"Wait!" Sasha protested. "We can't just leave Anja, not again!"

Jean's voice cut through their exchange. "Two Titans coming from the wall!"

Armin's brow furrowed, the gears in his mind quickly turning. "It would be dangerous for anyone else to get close, but..."

He paused, the realization hit him like a bolt of lightning. They could still win, he knew it, but not through brute force alone. It was a war of attrition. Hardly believing what he was about to suggest he spoke. "We need to lure more Titans here."

"Are you insane?" Jean exploded. "They'll kill her!"

Armin shook his head, his voice gaining strength as he explained. "No, look—the Titans aren't targeting her at all, it's like they don't even see her. They're all going for the Armored Titan instead. It's slowing down, it won't be able to keep it up forever. This might be our only chance to take it down."

His blue eyes blazed with determination as he continued. "If we can pin the Armored Titan down with enough Titans, it will give Anja a window to escape. She'll have to get out of there on her own, but it's her best chance."

A tense silence fell over the group as they weighed Armin's words. The sounds of battle raged around them—Anja's feral screams, the Armored Titan's roars of fury, the thunderous footsteps of approaching Titans.

Marco spoke up, his voice laced with uneasiness. "It makes sense, but how long can she keep it up? Can she really make it out on her own?"

"She has to," Armin said firmly. "We can't risk anyone else. Drawing the Titans in is the only way to give her a fighting chance while taking down the Armored Titan."

"I hope you're right about this, Armin," Jean muttered, his face set in grim resignation. "If you're wrong, we're all dead."

Suddenly, Eren stirred in their arms, his eyes fluttering open. "We have to... stop it..." he mumbled his voice weak but gaining strength.

"Eren, no," Mikasa pleaded, her voice tight with concern. "You're too weak. We need to get you out of here."

But Eren's eyes were already focusing, that familiar fire igniting within them. "No," he growled, struggling to stand despite his exhaustion. "We have to fight. We have to kill it... We can't let it escape, not like the Colossal, this is our chance!"

---

Merciless, I tear into my prey.

Its movements slow, armor cracking and peeling away. Each strike bites deeper, a symphony of rending flesh and splintering bone. Blood fountains, hot and sticky, coating my skin. I drink it in, reveling in the carnage.

Endless hunger consumes me.

Around me, more prey awaits slaughter. All seeking a piece of the prize. They claw at my quarry, but this one I've already claimed. Their desperation only fuels my frenzy.

Relentless, I circle it.

Steam billows from countless wounds as I strike again and again. My blades sing a song of destruction, carving ever deeper into exposed flesh. Its roars of pain like music to my ears.

Gnashing teeth and clawing hands can't stop me.

The behemoth grabs a smaller one, using it as a shield. I don't hesitate. I slice through both with equal ferocity, showering me in a spray of blood. Its growls cut off abruptly as its head separates from its body.

Endless hunger drives me forward.

I must destroy. It's desperate now, it hurls the mangled corpse at me. I plow past it, feeling bones snap and flesh as I scrape it. I land atop its head.

Blood and steam cloud my vision, but I don't need to see. I can smell its fear---

​

The red haze lifted slowly like a veil being drawn back. Anja blinked, her vision clearing. The world came into focus, piece by disorienting piece.

Steam. Blood. The stench of death.

A flash, like lightning, illuminated the corner of her eye for a split second. She barely registered it, her mind still reeling.

In the distance, a familiar voice cut through the chaos. Anja squinted, trying to make sense of the blurry figure shouting at her. "Armin?" she muttered, confusion etching deep lines in her face. "Why are you there?"

Anja found herself perched atop something massive, her fingers tangled in what felt like coarse blonde hair. The broken remnants of her blade were still clutched in her trembling hand. As her surroundings came into focus, horror dawned on her face. A sea of writhing flesh stretched as far as the eye could see. Titans, countless Titans, all reaching, grasping, tearing at whatever she was standing on.

A chill ran down Anja's spine as realization struck. This wasn't just any Titan. She was atop the Armored Titan itself. How had she gotten here? The last thing she remembered was... Her thoughts scattered like leaves in a gale, refusing to coalesce into anything coherent.

Beneath her, the Titan shuddered and thrashed, its movements sluggish but desperate. Anja struggled to maintain her balance as it bucked and twisted, trying in vain to dislodge the horde of lesser Titans that clung to its form. Steam hissed from countless wounds, and the sound of cracking armor filled the air. The behemoth was pinned, overwhelmed by the sheer number of attackers.

Through the chaos, near the wall, she caught a glimpse of another Titan. Smaller than she remembered, yet unmistakably Eren, pushing a boulder larger than houses. A flash of memory - fighting, blood, uncontrollable rage - but it slipped away as quickly as it came.

Something was deeply wrong. Anja's chest felt unnaturally tight, each breath came with a struggle. At the edge of her vision, a pale shape drew her attention downward. Her gaze drifted there, almost against her will.

Everything came rushing back in a sickening jolt. Anja's breath caught in her throat, terror clawing at her insides.

Impossible.

Yet there it stood – the very same Titan that almost got her, the one Mikasa had killed.

Its ashen skin now webbed with black veins, standing unnaturally still amidst the frenzy. Its massive form loomed directly below her, somehow more real, more present than all the others combined.

Its eyes bored into Anja, vacant yet impossibly aware. She felt naked, exposed, as if it could see straight through to her very soul. But it wasn't the eyes that truly unsettled her. It was what lay beyond them.

The Titan's maw gaped open, a yawning chasm of darkness. Anja's broken blade slipped from her nerveless fingers, clattering against armored scalp and fell away into the abyss below disappearing into nothingness itself.

She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Distantly, she heard screaming. Familiar voices called her name, but they seemed muffled, far away, unimportant.

All that mattered was the void within that Titan's mouth. Its hand reached for her, fingers stretching impossibly long. The mouth widened, wider, wider still, defying all logic and reason.

Anja stared into that impossible darkness. It stared back.

She felt herself leaning forward, drawn by an inexorable pull. The world around her began to blur, sounds fading, colors bleeding away. There was only the abyss, calling to her, promising... something. What was it promising? She took a small step forward, teetering on the edge of the Armored Titan's head.

The void grew, encompassing everything. Anja's awareness narrowed to a single point of absolute nothingness. And then...

A roar rent the air, high-pitched and deafening, shaking Anja from her trance. The sound vibrated in her bones, drowning out even the thunderous beating of her own heart.

In an instant, the world erupted into chaos. The sea of Titans, once fixated on the Armored behemoth, suddenly turned as one. Their eyes widened, heads snapping towards an unseen source.

The ground beneath Anja's feet trembled. She watched in horror as the pale, horrifying Titan that had held her mesmerized vanished beneath a tide of enormous bodies. Crushed to a pulp by the mindless horde surging towards the breach in the wall.

Even the Armored Titan swayed, its massive form buffeted by the surging mass of flesh. Anja's fingers dug deeper into its coarse hair, her knuckles white with the effort of maintaining her precarious perch.

Through billowing clouds of steam and dust, Anja's eyes widened at a new terror. A river of Titans, dozens strong, poured from the direction of the inner wall. Buildings crumbled like sandcastles in their wake, the unstoppable tide carving a path straight for the breach.

The boom of cannon fire cut through the din, followed by shouts from the direction of the wall. Anja's heart leapt – Reinforcements? A flicker of hope battled against the overwhelming dread in her chest.

"Anja!" A familiar voice called out, barely audible above the roar. She tried to pinpoint its origin, but the chaos swallowed everything.

Suddenly, the Armored Titan lurched. Anja's stomach dropped as she felt herself slipping. Pure instinct took over. She leapt, fingers fumbling for her ODM gear controls.

Anja scanned her surroundings, barely able to see through the haze of dust and steam.

There! A single building still standing amidst the destruction. Her cables shot out with a hiss, seeking purchase on the structure.

For a heart-stopping moment, Anja thought she was safe. Then the building began to crumble, its foundations giving way under the onslaught of the stampede. The cables went slack. Anja fell, the wind rushing past her ears as the ground approached rapidly.

She slammed into the cobblestones, pain erupting through her body battered body. The impact drove the air from her lungs, leaving her gasping. But there was no time to recover. Massive feet thundered past, threatening to crush her at any second. Gritting her teeth, Anja forced herself up.

Disoriented and desperate, Anja searched for an escape. Then she heard it - familiar voices shouting from the direction of the walls. Hope surged through her veins, giving her a burst of energy. She ran, stumbling between the Titans' legs, each step bringing her closer to the wall and the promise of safety.

Her legs shook, each step a battle against exhaustion and terror. Ruins toppled around her, debris rained down. Anja dodged and weaved, her world narrowing to the next obstacle, the next near miss, and the distant shouts guiding her forward.

A Titan's foot came down inches from where she'd been a heartbeat before. Anja stumbled, her legs finally giving out. She looked up, eyes wide with horror as a giant hand reached for her—

"Got you!"

A gust of wind, and suddenly Anja was airborne. She gasped, clinging desperately to her rescuer as they shot upwards. The whine of straining ODM gear filled her ears.


"Sasha?" Anja panted, her voice strained and faint with disbelief.

Sasha's face was a mask of concentration, her jaw clenched tight as she maneuvered them through the chaos. Sweat beaded on her brow, her muscles trembling with the effort of carrying them both.

Her ODM gear whirred as she propelled them upwards, hooking onto the edge of the wall. With a final burst of gas, she reeled them in, bringing them close to the ledge. Jean leaned over, grabbing Anja's arm and hauling her up and over the edge.

Anja tumbled onto the top of the wall, her body giving out as soon as she was on solid ground. She fell flat on her back, chest heaving. Her eyes stared up at the sky, unseeing, as she fought to catch her breath.

Sasha collapsed beside her, equally spent. Her ODM gear clattered against the stone, the sound oddly muted in the aftermath of the chaos.

"Thank goodness you made it," Armin breathed, relief etched on his face as he knelt beside them.

Anja could only nod, words beyond her. She let her eyes drift shut for a moment, the cool stone beneath her a blessed relief. They were alive. Safe.

Slowly, painfully, she pushed herself up to sitting. Her gaze swept over the assembled survivors, cataloging familiar faces.

Mikasa cradled an unconscious Eren, her eyes never leaving his face. Armin hovered nearby, his blue eyes wide with a mix of relief and lingering fear.

"I don't even know what is going on anymore, why the hell are they leaving?" Jean demanded, his voice tight with tension.

"They're not even trying to attack the Armored Titan anymore..." Armin murmured, his brow furrowed.

Marco stood beside Jean, both of them staring down at the devastation with shell-shocked expressions.

Below, the Armored Titan stood defiant amidst the stampede. Its burning eyes fixed above on the survivors, a silent promise of retribution. But even as it prepared to advance, a barrage of cannon fire rained down. Steam billowed from its mouth and wounds as shell after shell found their mark.

With a final, furious bellow that shook the very stones of Trost, the Armored Titan followed the tide, shouldering its way towards the breach. In moments, it was gone, disappearing into the lands beyond Wall Rose.

Armin's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "We did it!"

"We... did it?" Anja whispered, her voice cracking. "We won?"

For a moment, there was only stunned silence. Then, a ragged cheer went up. It started small, but quickly swelled, the voices of her comrades rising in a chorus of disbelieving joy.

Anja's vision blurred as tears welled up. She looked at her friends—battered, bloodied, but alive. Sasha stared down at the remnants of Trost, her expression somber, the loss of Connie a fresh wound. Marco whooped, the sound tinged with hysteria. Armin shook Anja's shoulder, eyes wide with incredulous relief.

Even Mikasa's stoic mask cracked, a small smile tugging at her lips as she held Eren close.

As Anja returned Armin's smile through her tears, she felt something unfamiliar bloom in her chest. It was fragile, tentative, but undeniably there.

Hope.

/
/
/

Note: Work got in the way, but one day later its here, hope you enjoyed the read. The Struggle for Trost is now officially over. I'll try getting the aftermath of the battle by Sunday but I make no promises.

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter XVI: Aftermath

---

Commander Dot Pyxis trudged along a path of utter devastation carved through the heart of Trost. Where once stood proud buildings, now lay a wasteland of splintered wood, crushed stone, broken tiles and twisted metal. The trail of destruction, a grim testament to the Titans' rampage, stretched before him like a gaping wound in the city's flesh.


Overhead, dark clouds loomed, heavy with the promise of rain. The air felt thick and oppressive, mirroring the somber mood that hung over Trost, the cost of victory had been higher than anyone could have anticipated.


Shouts of soldiers and the creaking of heavily laden carts punctuated the eerie quiet. Makeshift tents dotted the landscape, flimsy barriers against the encroaching despair. Pyxis paused, watching a young soldier distributing meager rations to a line of hollow-eyed civilians. A child's wail pierced the air, quickly hushed by a mother's trembling embrace.


Nearby, a grizzled veteran clutched his family close, his uniform caked with dirt and darker stains. His eyes, haunted and red-rimmed, met Pyxis' for a brief moment before darting away.


A group of cadets huddled together, their youthful faces etched with a weariness far beyond their years. One laughed, a brittle sound that seemed to shatter in the heavy air. His comrades flinched, their forced smiles more grimace than joy.


In the distance, the breach in Wall Rose loomed. Yet around it swarmed Scouts and Garrison engineers, their efforts to seal the gap a defiant act of survival. The scrape of stone on stone echoed through the ruined city, a constant, grinding reminder of humanity's resilience.


Anka, Pyxis' aide, approached with a crisp salute. "Sir, the city is clear of Titans. Only a few stragglers remained; we made short work of them."


Pyxis nodded, his eyes never leaving the desolate scene before him. "And our soldiers, has everyone been accounted for?"


The aide's composure faltered. "Numbers are still not exact, but... We lost 326 soldiers, 32 are still missing. And there's over a thousand wounded. Our medical staff is overwhelmed, many civilians volunteered but its not enough." She hesitated, swallowing hard. "There's also the matter of... clearing any possible contamination. But it should be safe to start letting some people back into the city once the breach is secured. We could start right away arranging the clean-up teams."


Pyxis surveyed the exhausted faces of the soldiers around him, noting the slumped shoulders and trembling hands. "For now, let them rest. We'll start clearing in the morning."


As twilight deepened into night, Pyxis made his way to what remained of the Garrison headquarters. The building listed dangerously to one side, its windows dark and empty. Inside, he found Commander Erwin Smith waiting, his tall frame silhouetted against a lone candle flickering on the debris-strewn desk.


"Commander Erwin," Pyxis greeted, reaching for a dusty bottle. "Something to drink?"


Erwin shook his head. "I'm fine, thank you."


Pyxis poured himself a generous measure, the amber liquid catching the candlelight. "I suspect I know why you're here, but first, tell me about your expedition. Your faces upon return spoke volumes."


Erwin's eyes tightened almost imperceptibly. "It was... enlightening, but there are more pressing matters."


"Come now, indulge an old man, will you?"


"I'm afraid it's grim news, as usual."


Pyxis took a long swig. "Isn't it always?"


Erwin's voice lowered, tension thrumming beneath his measured words. "We encountered Abnormals but these were different. At first, they showed no interest in us, but..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "They set a trap. It indicates a level of intelligence we've never observed. They took one of my soldiers but didn't devour him. Just... took him and left."


Pyxis' brow furrowed. "You didn't give chase?"


"Couldn't risk it. We were outnumbered," Erwin's gaze drifted to the shattered window. "The ride back was uneventful until we found Titans concentrated near Trost."


"Ah yes, our recent visitors," Pyxis sighed. "It all went down how it was reported in Shiganshina, the Colossal breaking through the outer gate then vanishing, followed by a downpour of titans." "But then when the Armored appeared, by some miracle, they all retreated it didn't even reach the inner wall."


He chuckled, a harsh sound. "You know, some of my soldiers have quite the imagination. There's a story spreading about a cadet who single-handedly fought off the Armored Titan, causing the retreat."


Erwin's eyebrow raised slightly. "Oh?"


"Ridiculous, of course," Pyxis waved his hand dismissively. "But it got me thinking. They must have been after something specific. Why breach the wall only to retreat?"


Erwin nodded thoughtfully. "Hmm… Regardless, such stories can be powerful motivators, even if not entirely true. A symbol for people to rally behind."


"A convenient tale for desperate times?" Pyxis countered.


"Perhaps," Erwin conceded. "But that's not why I'm here."


Pyxis' eyes narrowed. "Ah, the crux of the matter, is it?"


Erwin leaned forward, his voice dropping. "The Titan. Eren Jaeger."


"Yes, a poorly kept secret," Pyxis mused. "He's unconscious, under guard until things are cleared up."


"I need to see him," Erwin stated, his tone leaving no room for debate. "My team should examine him."


Before Pyxis could respond, the door burst open. Commander Nile Dok of the Military Police strode in, his face a mask of barely contained fury. Behind him, the imposing figure of Premier Zachary entered more sedately.


"Gentlemen," Pyxis said, his casual tone belied by his rigid posture. "To what do we owe this unexpected visit?"


Nile's suspicious gaze darted between Erwin and Pyxis. "We rushed here upon news of the attack, we had prepared for the worst scenario. I see victory came at a steep price..."


Zachary, his voice matter-of-fact yet imposing, stated, "Order must be re-established in the district. I'm here to ensure the necessary arrangements are carried out."


"The Scouts stand ready to assist, sir," Erwin replied, a note of wariness in his voice. "But surely that's not the sole reason for your presence."


Zachary's penetrating gaze swept the room. "You're perceptive as ever, Commander. We've heard disturbing whispers of a Titan among our ranks."


His eyes locked onto Pyxis and Erwin. "The crown will demand explanations. I expect them now."


A low rumble of thunder punctuated the silence. Rain began to patter against the broken windows, quickly swelling to a deluge. The long-threatened storm had finally broken.


Pyxis glanced at the tempest outside, his weathered features briefly illuminated by lightning. The downpour formed a silver veil, obscuring the ravaged city beyond.

---

The forest swallowed all sound save for her ragged breathing and the crunch of dead leaves beneath her boots. Rain lashed down through the canopy, soaking her to the skin. Sweat-soaked hair clung to her face as she ran, weaving between ancient trunks that stretched impossibly high into the storm-wracked sky.


Don't look back.


The thought pulsed in her mind, drowning out everything else. Her lungs burned, legs trembling with exhaustion, but she couldn't stop. It was coming.


A branch snagged her jacket. Her heart leapt into her throat as she tore free, leaving behind a scrap of fabric. She risked a glance over her shoulder.


Nothing. Just shadows and the constant pattering of rain.


The relief was short-lived. A twig snapped somewhere to her left.


She veered right desperately, pushing deeper into the forest. The trees pressed closer, their gnarled branches reaching out like grasping fingers. Roots erupted from the earth, threatening to trip her with every step.


A sound drifted through the air. A low, keening wail that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Human, but not quite. As if something was wearing a person's voice like an ill-fitting suit.


A low moan drifted through the trees, barely human. "Anjaaaa..."


She stumbled, caught herself against a tree trunk. Her hand came away sticky. In the fading light, the bark glistened wetly. Anja brought her fingers to her nose and recoiled at the coppery scent.


Blood.


A rustle in the undergrowth sent her running again. The forest floor sloped downward, steepening until Anja was half-running, half-sliding down a ravine. She lost her footing, tumbling head over heels until she slammed into level ground.


Dazed, Anja pushed herself up. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. She spat, willing her vision to focus in the growing darkness.


Her eyes adjusted, and Anja wished they hadn't.


Near her feet, a body lay crumpled, limbs bent at unnatural angles. Its face, once familiar, was now a mask of terror, frozen in death.


Numbly, Anja stumbled forward.


Her gaze fell on another corpse, this one propped against a tree. Its chest was a gaping maw of shattered ribs and torn flesh.


In the center of the clearing, a figure lay spread-eagled, limbs splayed like a broken doll. Long dark hair, matted with blood, splayed out around a face Anja knew all too well.


Horrified, she tore her eyes away, only to land on another gruesome sight. A tall, muscular body, nearly torn in half, lay draped over a fallen log.


Anguish welled up inside her as she recognized each mangled form. Friends. Comrades. All dead.


Looming shadows seemed to close in, suffocating her. Anja's legs gave out, and she fell to her knees.


As she hit the ground, her hands slipped in something warm and viscous. A soft squelch made her look down.


Intestines. Glistening in the dim light, spilled across the forest floor.


The nausea was overwhelming. Anja retched, emptying her stomach onto the blood-soaked ground.


Trembling, she raised her head, and her heart stopped.


There, slumped against a gnarled tree trunk, was a figure that made her blood run cold. Blonde hair, matted with gore, framed a face frozen in a silent scream. Icy blue eyes, once so alive, now stared sightlessly into the void. A ragged crimson gash tore across the throat.


"No," Anja whispered, her voice breaking. "No, no, no."


"Why did you do it, Anja?"


The accusation came from everywhere and nowhere. Anja whirled, searching for its source.


"We trusted you."


Another voice, equally familiar, seemed to emanate from the very trees.


"Monster."


"Murderer."


The chorus of the dead rose around her, a cacophony of blame and horror. Anja clapped her hands over her ears, but the voices burrowed into her skull.


"Join us."


"Stay."


"Forever."


A tearing sensation erupted in her chest. Anja looked down, horror mounting.


Dark tendrils pushed through her flesh, writhing and pulsing. They spread like cracks in glass, her body fracturing from within.


Images flashed before her eyes: A knife in her hand. Numb terror on familiar faces. Her own laughter, cruel and cold.


Her scream died in her throat as the world dissolved around her. Anja found herself face-to-face with the pale Titan, its visage now featureless inches from her own, its skin looked like it was moving on its own, calling her. Its maw gaped open, revealing an endless void that threatened to consume her whole.


Distorted sounds crackled around her, achingly familiar voices twisted by static:


"A... ǝɹɐ ...ja ... ʍɥǝɹǝ ...


ʇ,uɐɔ ... plOɔ os ... ǝǝs ... dlǝH


... ʞɔɐq ǝɯoƆ ... ǝɯ ... ǝɯoɥ ..."


The pale Titan's maw began to expand, stretching impossibly wide. The void within grew, swallowing everything in its path.​

---

The nightmare's tendrils retreated, leaving Anja gasping in the pre-dawn gloom. Outside, hoofbeats and shouted orders pierced the air.


Real. Solid. A lifeline to cling to.


"C'mon," Sasha's voice cut through the fog, followed by a bundle of fabric hitting Anja's face. "Orders came in."


Moments later, Anja found herself hunched over a small basin outside the tent, scrubbing furiously at her hands. Dried blood caked her fingernails, stubbornly resisting her efforts. Each crimson fleck sent a jolt of guilt through her core. As she worked, she noticed the scars on her hands - wounds that had been raw and angry yesterday were already half closed. The sight made her stomach lurch.


She couldn't bring herself to look at her reflection in the water, afraid of what – or who – she might see staring back. With trembling hands, she reached for fresh bandages, wrapping them tightly around her arms and hands. The act felt like a futile attempt to conceal her shame, to cover the physical reminders of her bloodthirsty rampage.


As she finished, a sharp pain lanced through her back, causing her to wince. The wound Marco had cauterized still felt raw and angry, unlike her other injuries. She gingerly touched the bandage covering it, feeling the heat radiating from the unhealed flesh. Why wasn't it getting any better?


A yawn broke her frantic reverie. Ymir stretched nearby, Christa a silent shadow at her side. The taller girl's gaze flickered to Anja, lingering on her. Where there had once been easy camaraderie, now lurked something else. Wariness. Caution


"Rough night?" Ymir's tone was carefully neutral.


Anja managed a nod, not trusting her voice.


"Join the club," Ymir muttered, running a hand through her disheveled hair.


They fell into step, the silence broken only by the crunch of debris underfoot. Sasha's voice, when it came, was devoid of its usual warmth. "We're on cleanup duty. Identifying remains…"


A groan escaped Ymir. "Fantastic. My favorite way to start the day."


"It needs to be done," Christa admonished gently. "Those families deserve closure."


Anja's eyes scanned the sea of haggard faces around them. No sign of Eren, Mikasa, or Armin. Where was Annie? Worry gnawed at her insides, mingling with the ever-present guilt.


A ripple of whispers caught her attention. "Is that her? The one who fought the Armored Titan?" Anja's gaze dropped to the ground, shame burning in her chest. If they only knew...


"Sasha?" Christa's voice was hesitant. "Are you... are you doing okay?"


"I'm fine." The curt reply hung in the air.


Christa's brow furrowed, but before she could press further, they rounded a corner. Jean and Marco stood by a waiting cart, their expressions as grim as the devastation stretching out behind them.


The group clambered aboard in somber silence. As the wheels began to turn, carrying them deeper into Trost's ravaged heart, the true scale of destruction unfurled before them like a nightmare made real.


Christa's voice trembled, barely audible over the cart's creaking. "The destruction, it's... it's so much worse here."


Ymir's arm tightened around her. "Yeah, well, Titans aren't exactly known for their delicate touch."


Marco's eyes swept over the ruins, his usual optimism faltering. "They didn't just attack us. They... they trampled everything. It's like they wanted to erase us completely."


"My home was around this block," Jean's voice was hollow, his gaze fixed on a mountain of rubble. "Can't even tell which pile it might be now."


Marco squeezed Jean's shoulder. "We'll rebuild," he said, determination creeping into his tone. "It'll take years, but... we know we can beat them now. We have hope."


"Hope?" Jean's laugh was bitter. "Look around. Half the city's in ruins. Who's left to pick up the pieces?"


She breathed sharply at the thought, it drew their attention. Her eyes had been fixed on the devastation around them. Now, she shifted uncomfortably, wincing as the movement pulled at the injury on her back.


Christa's eyes fell on Anja's bandages. "Are you sure you're up for this, Anja? Those wounds look painful."


Anja nodded, not meeting her gaze. "I'm... I'm feeling better. I want to help."


Ymir's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.


Anja looked away, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The events of yesterday felt both distant and painfully fresh - the carnage, the pain, the overwhelming bloodlust. She could still feel the phantom weight of her blades, hear the screams echoing in her ears. How could she possibly explain any of this to her comrades?


The cart halted abruptly. Their driver, face concealed behind a headscarf, addressed them with practiced efficiency.


"You know the drill. Pairs. Cover as much ground as possible. Mark and collect any remains for identification." He gestured to the folded blankets in the cart. "Bring them here."


He distributed their grim tools – pry bars, shovels, thick gloves. Their weight in Anja's hands made the task ahead feel terrifyingly tangible.


Paired with Sasha, Anja surveyed the devastation. Despite the flattened buildings, visibility stretched for blocks. Other groups of soldiers dotted the landscape, engaged in the same somber duty.


Sasha's voice, broke the silence. "Damn monsters weren't satisfied with eatin' us. Had to destroy everythin' too." Her knuckles whitened around the shovel handle. "Let's... let's just get this over with."


The desolation before them was absolute – a sea of pulverized stone, splintered timber, and things Anja's mind refused to process. Dust hung thick in the air, mingling with a sickly-putrid odor that made her stomach roil.


As they began their task, the quiet was punctuated by the scrape of metal on stone and occasional, muffled sobs. Anja's eyes stung, whether from unshed tears or the acrid smell lingering about, she couldn't tell. She stumbled, her foot catching on something.


Bending down, her breath caught in her throat. A blade, or what remained of one - just a shard of metal attached to a battered handle, its edges already dulled.

Her blade.


The world tilted. In an instant, Anja was no longer in the ruined streets of Trost, but back on that blood-slicked rooftop.


Nac's broken form lay before her, his hand raised in a futile attempt to ward her off. Blood poured from his severed leg, pooling around him. Anja's chest heaved like a feral animal, her vision tinted red. She lunged forward, grabbing him roughly.


The blade plunged down, again and again. Nac's screams pierced the air, quickly turning to wet gurgles. Blood and tears filled his eyes as Anja stabbed with savage, unrelenting fury. The blade, already dulled by her frenzied assault, tore more than cut.


"...Monster..."​

Nac's dying whisper, his eyes wide with terror. Then, stillness. Those eyes, once fear, now stared blankly at nothing.


"Anja?" Sasha's voice cut through the memory, sounding distant and muffled. "You okay?"


Anja blinked, reality crashing back. She was on her knees, the ruined blade clutched to her chest like a lifeline. Where Nac's body had been in her vision, there was only rubble. A dark, blackish stain spread unevenly across the broken stone, the source of the putrid smell that had been haunting her.


"I..." Anja's voice shook, barely above a whisper. "I saw... I think Nac was here..."


Sasha paused, then began clearing away debris. "Are you sure?" she asked, tossing aside stones with growing urgency.


Anja stumbled to her feet, joining Sasha's search. But as they cleared the area, the terrible truth became clear. There was nothing there. No body. Just that ominous dark stain.


How could this be? She remembered it so vividly - the weight of Nac's body, the warmth of his blood. How could he just... vanish?


A hand on her shoulder snapped her from her spiraling thoughts. Anja turned, her heart leaping into her throat as she recognized the insignia on the uniforms, the green unicorn of the Military Police. Two soldiers stood before her, their expressions serious, rifles strapped across their shoulders.


"Cadet Anja Wolf?"


Anja's blood ran cold. "Yes?"


The world seemed to shrink, narrowing to those two imposing figures. Sasha tensed beside her, taking a protective half-step closer.


"What's this about?" Sasha demanded, but the MPs ignored her completely.


The male MP's hand moved to rest on his weapon, his voice left no room for argument.

"You need to come with us. Now."​

/


/


/


Note: I know this one did not have the most imaginative of titles. Anyhow, sorry for the delay and for the fact the chapter is not the usual length, but it got too long. On the bright side, the next chapter might be ready by tomorrow or Tuesday, should be the usual length.

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter XVII: Gambit

---

Anja's heart raced as she waited in the small antechamber. The weight of the impending trial pressed down on her, making each breath a conscious effort. She smoothed her uniform for the hundredth time, trying to calm her nerves.

A shadow fell across her. Anja looked up to see a man she didn't recognize approaching. His face was partially obscured by a hood, but she caught a glimpse of light brown hair underneath. He stopped nearby, seeming to hesitate before turning to her.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice low. "You're Anja Wolf, aren't you?"

The man glanced around before leaning in slightly. "I just wanted to thank you for saving us." He leaned in close to shake her hand, his tone suddenly shifted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You should consider your future," he murmured. "Some things are better left unsaid."

Before Anja could respond, the man straightened and melted back into the crowd. Her hand instinctively went to her pocket, fingers brushing against the folded paper within. A chill ran down her spine as she noticed a few onlookers watching the exchange with curious eyes.

"Cadet Wolf," a stern voice called. "You're summoned."

Taking a deep breath, Anja stepped into the courtroom.

The space that greeted her was cavernous and imposing. Anja's footsteps echoed on the stone floor as she entered, drawing the attention of the packed gallery. Representatives from every faction within the walls were present, their faces a mix of curiosity, suspicion, and barely concealed hostility. The black robes of the Wallists stood out starkly against the sea of military uniforms and the fine attires of merchants and nobles.

The courtroom itself bore the scars of recent events. Shattered windows allowed gusts of wind to disturb the heavy atmosphere, and in places, chunks of masonry lay where they had fallen from the damaged ceiling. Above, a partially ruined fresco depicted ancient soldiers locked in battle, their painted faces seeming to watch the proceedings with grim interest.

At the center of it all, elevated above the rest, sat Premier Zachary. The banners of each military regiment flanked his seat, their colors a stark contrast to the somber mood. Zachary's piercing gaze fixed on Anja as she approached, his expression unreadable behind his glasses.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Anja caught snippets of whispered conversations: "...the one who fought the Armored Titan..."

As she took her place at the center of the room, Anja's eyes darted from face to face. The Scout Regiment stood to one side, Commander Erwin's expression unreadable. Opposite them, the Military Police wore looks of cool disdain. Commander Nile Dawk's gaze met hers, and suddenly the courtroom faded away in her mind.

She was back in that small, suffocating room.

---

5 Days Ago​

The room felt like a cage, its walls pressing in on Anja as she sat rigid in her chair. Her mind raced, a thousand questions and fears drowning out all else. Two Military Police soldiers flanked the door, they were silent since she was brought in but she could feel their gazes steadily pressing her down in place, a constant reminder of her precarious situation.

The door swung open with a sudden, jarring creak. A man entered - tall and thin, with short black hair and a serious demeanor. Dark circles under his eyes hinted at sleepless nights, while a red medal hung prominently around his neck. His presence filling the small space. Anja's eyes darted over him, taking in his crisp uniform, the hard set of his jaw, the calculating look in his eyes. The soldiers snapped to attention, their salutes sharp and practiced.

"At ease," He said, his voice clipped and authoritative. He took the seat across from Anja, placing a thick folder on the desk between them. With a curt gesture, he dismissed the other soldiers. As they left, Anja started to rise, her body moving on instinct to salute.

"Commander Nile Dawk, head of the Military Police Brigade," he introduced himself, waving her down. "Sit, Cadet Wolf. We have much to discuss, and I'm afraid my time is limited."

Anja sank back into her chair, her heart hammering against her ribs. She could feel sweat beading on her palms, and she resisted the urge to wipe them on her pants.

Nile's eyes scanned the open file before him, his expression unreadable. "Cadet Anja Wolf, 104th Southern Corps. 15 years old, born in 835. Originally from a small town inside Wall Maria, lived in Shiganshina most of her life." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Parents: Father, partook in the 22nd Scouting Expedition, year 838. Presumed deceased, no survivors from that mission." His gaze flicked to another page on the file. "Mother presumed deceased during the attack on Shiganshina, 845. One sibling, also deceased 845 -former Scout Regiment." He looked up to her, his gaze piercing. "A family history of service and sacrifice, it seems."

Anja's breath caught in her throat. How much did they know?

"Your recent exploits have caused quite a stir, Cadet," Nile continued, his tone neutral but his eyes sharp. "Particularly your encounter with the Armored Titan."

"Sir, I-" Anja began, but Nile held up a hand, silencing her.

"I'll be direct. Yesterday, an accusation was made. Murder of a fellow soldier during battle. One Nac Tius."

The name hit Anja like a physical blow. She felt the blood drain from her face, Nac's terrified eyes flashing in her mind. Had they found him? Maybe that was the reason his body wasn't there. Her mouth went dry, the urge to confess rising like bile in her throat.

"I've decided to close the case," Nile continued, his tone matter-of-fact. "It was an anonymous tip, we swept the area, no body, no weapon to speak of. Three witnesses vouched for you. Seems more like slander than substance."

"I... I don't understand," Anja managed, her voice barely above a whisper. Her mind reeled. The weapon... she had found her blade, but it had no blood on it… And Witnesses? Who? Why?

Nile leaned back, his expression softening slightly. "What's to understand? You're being hailed as a hero, Wolf. Clearly, someone doesn't agree with it. You know, there's even talk of a medal."

The praise felt like ash in Anja's mouth.

"Now," Nile continued, his tone shifting slightly, "there's another matter I wished to discuss personally. As I understand it, you haven't chosen a regiment officially yet."

Anja nodded, uncertain where this was heading.

"Your actions during the recent... incident in Trost have caught our attention," Nile said, leaning forward slightly. "The Military Police Brigade is always interested in exceptional individuals, especially those who've shown their worth."

He paused, studying Anja's reaction. "Normally, entry into our ranks is reserved for the top ten graduates - a bar you didn't quite reach. However, extraordinary circumstances sometimes call for exceptions."

Nile's eyes flickered to the file before him. "I understand you were in close proximity to Eren Jaeger when he was in Titan form near the breach. Not many had such a vantage point. Your perspective on those events could be quite valuable."

"Valuable, sir?" Anja asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"There will be questions in the coming days, Cadet Wolf. Your testimony could be crucial in determining the best course of action for humanity's safety."

He slid an envelope across the desk, bearing the Military Police emblem stamped in green wax. "Consider this an invitation to discuss your future with us. The Brigade offers good pay, the best facilities in the military, the honor of serving the king directly. It's a rare opportunity to make a real difference from within the walls."

Nile stood, gathering his papers. "Of course, any insights you might share about Jaeger and the events in Trost would be... appreciated. Consider it a show of good faith, if you will."

Anja's stomach churned. What did they want with Eren? What would happen to him?

Nile moved towards the door, then paused. "Think it over, Wolf. Opportunities like this don't come often… We value those who can see the bigger picture, who understand what's truly best for humanity's future."

---

The echo of his words faded, replaced by the hushed murmur of the crowded courtroom. Anja blinked, the present rushing back into focus

"Cadet Wolf," Zachary's voice cut the last wisps of memory, sharp and authoritative. "You stand before this court to testify in a matter of grave importance to humanity. Do you understand the weight of this responsibility?"

Anja swallowed hard. "Yes, sir."

"Then let us proceed," Zachary said, his tone brooking no argument. "Cadet Wolf, describe the events you witnessed during the battle of Trost, particularly those involving Eren Jaeger. We understand you were the first to encounter him after he was reportedly eaten."

Anja took a deep breath, steadying herself. The memories crashed over her - Death, of others her own, chaos, fear. Her voice trembled slightly as she began, "Many of us were out of gas, stranded on rooftops, surrounded by Titans. That's when I saw him - a new Titan, fighting against the others—"

"Objection," Nile Dawk interrupted smoothly. "Cadet Wolf, you say this Titan fought others. Did it display any signs of recognizing or sparing humans?"

Anja hesitated, caught off guard. "I... he didn't attack us, if that's what you're asking. He—"

Nile nodded, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp. "So it acted on pure instinct, unable to distinguish friend from foe. Continue, Cadet."

"That is not what I said," Anja protested, her voice rising. "He saved me from another Titan—"

"A mere coincidence, perhaps?" Nile interjected. "The Titan was simply a larger target. We have reports indicating that Jaeger attempted to attack Cadet Mikasa Ackerman during the operation to retake Trost. That indicates he was acting on pure instinct, with no real control."

Anja frowned, sensing the trap but unsure how to avoid it. "Eren wasn't just acting on instinct," she insisted, her voice stronger now. "He came to his senses. He deliberately moved the boulder towards the breach. That was part of the operation, crucial for its success."

"And during this time," Nile pressed, "were there any instances where Jaeger's actions endangered other human lives?"

"What...? I..." Anja faltered. Suddenly, the chaos of that day overwhelmed her. She saw the deaths of the garrison soldiers defending Eren, heard the confusion in their voices. A blinding flash of lightning, an explosion that left everyone shell-shocked. Eren's fallen Titan form. Then, flashes of red, the savage glee rising within her, followed by a searing pain across her back.

Zachary's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, impatient now. "Cadet Wolf, you were in close proximity to these events. Can you describe the immediate impact on your fellow soldiers?"

The voices in the courtroom began to fade, drowned out by the memories of death and destruction. Zachary's words echoed, distorted, as if from a great distance. Anja's vision blurred, the faces before her melting into a sea of accusing eyes...

---

4 Days Ago​

Suddenly, she was back there. The acrid stench of smoke and charred flesh filled her nostrils.

Row upon row of bodies stretched before her, each wrapped in blood-stained blankets. The makeshift pyres loomed, a grim monument to their pyrrhic victory. Anja stood among her fellow survivors, their faces gaunt and haunted. Nearby, wounded soldiers leaned on each other for support, their bandages stark white against the grim backdrop.

Captain Woermann's voice rose above the heavy silence. "We gather here to honor those who gave their lives in defense of humanity."

As he read out the names of the fallen, Anja felt each one like a blow. Her heart raced, dreading to hear the names of those she knew. She wanted to cover her ears, a helpless attempt to block out the loss, but she couldn't. She had to listen, had to bear witness.

When Connie's name was called, Sasha's quiet sobs became audible. Anja wanted to reach out, to offer some comfort, but her own guilt held her back. How could she console others when her own hands were stained with blood?

The space beside Sasha, where Connie should have been, yawned like an open wound. Nearby, Ymir and Christa huddled close, their expressions grim as they stared at two blanket-wrapped forms. With a jolt, Anja realized they were Franz and Hannah. Or what was left of them. The sight of the couple, united even in death, sent a chill down her spine.

The flames began to lick at the pyre, sending tendrils of smoke into the overcast sky. Anja's hand trembled as she saluted, her mind churning with the events of the past day. Still no sign of Eren, Mikasa, Armin. Their absence gnawed at her. Had the Military Police taken action? Should she speak up?

The conversation with Nile Dawk replayed in her head. That letter he gave her felt like it was burning a hole in her pocket, a constant reminder of the choice looming before her.

As the flames began to consume the pyre, Anja's eyes drifted across the gathered soldiers. A familiar figure caught her attention - Annie, standing at the edge of the crowd. Her icy blue eyes were fixed on the fire, her expression unreadable. For a moment, Anja felt a flicker of relief, but questions quickly followed. Where had Annie been during the chaos? Why did she look so-

---

"Cadet Wolf!"

Zachary's sharp voice snapped her out of her stupor. The courtroom swam into focus, every eye fixed upon her, murmurs filling the room. Zachary's expression was one of clear annoyance.

"I will ask you one last time," he said, his tone clipped. "Based on your firsthand observations, do you consider Eren Jaeger to be a threat to humanity?"

Anja's eyes darted across the room, landing briefly on Erwin's face. His expression was unreadable, but he raised an eyebrow slightly. She turned back to Zachary.

"No, sir," she said, her voice stronger than she felt. "Eren used his strength to fight the Titans in Trost. He managed to move a massive boulder towards the breach, which, as you know, was essential to our efforts to seal it. Many of us, myself included, owe our lives to his actions."

Nile Dawk leaned forward, his expression was neutral but his eyes sharp. "We must keep the big picture in consideration," he said, staring directly at Anja.

"The reports clearly show a different truth. Not only did he display aggression towards humans, but he couldn't even complete the mission he was assigned. How can we trust someone who can't fully control such a power?"

Anja faltered for a moment. "It's true that Eren couldn't complete sealing the breach, he couldn't due to the Armored- But sir, it was only his second time using this power. Despite the challenges, he still fought to protect us."

"Cadet Wolf," Zachary interjected, his gaze fixed on Anja. "Your testimony paints Eren Jaeger as a hero. Yet, it is clear many view him as a threat. Have you considered this perspective?"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"He's a monster," someone hissed. "He has to be put down."

The words sent a chill down Anja's spine. She began to fidget, her nervousness visible. "I know Eren," she said, her voice tinged with desperation. "He'd never hurt people, his enemies are the Titans!"

Nile pressed on, his tone more aggressive. "Cadet, are you choosing the word of a Titan over the safety of humanity? Can you truly say that Jaeger poses no threat to us all?"

Anja staggered back a step, the weight of the accusation hitting her like a physical blow. The murmurs in the courtroom grew louder, pressing in on her from all sides.

"I…"

Suddenly, Annie's words from days ago echoed in her mind: "You can't help everyone, Anja. Sometimes... sometimes you have to put yourself first. It's the only way to survive in this world."

---

"Annie," Anja breathed, closing the distance between them. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Annie's icy blue eyes met hers, searching Anja's gaze intently for a moment before a flicker of genuine relief passed through them. "Anja... I'm glad you made it too."

As they embraced, Annie's hand brushed over Anja's back, lingering on the charred scar. Her fingers pressed slightly, causing Anja to wince involuntarily.

"Sorry," Annie murmured, her brow furrowing. "You're still hurt?"

Anja nodded, rubbing her back. "Yeah... I don't think it's healing anytime soon."

Annie's eyes dropped to Anja's hands, noting the scars crisscrossing her palms. Did something shift in her expression – relief?

"How are you holding up?" Annie asked, her tone carefully neutral, but her posture noticeably more relaxed.

Anja shook her head, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I... I don't know. Everything's a mess. Have you seen Eren? Or Mikasa, Armin?"

Annie sighed, "They were taken by the Military Police yesterday, Armin went voluntarily..."

Anja's eyes widened. "But why? Where are they being held?"

"I don't know the details," Annie replied, her voice low. "But... Premier Zachary is in the city. There's a rumor spreading... that Eren is a Titan, it will only be a matter of time before the truth is out..." Annie's voice held a hint of worry. "They might still be deciding what to do with him, maybe they'll put him on trial..."

Anja's mind raced. "A trial? For saving us?"

Annie shrugged, her body tense but her expression neutral. "People are scared, Anja. A human turning into a Titan-"

Anja interrupted, her voice laced with urgency as she began to pace back and forth. "I have to do something. Maybe if I talk to someone, explain what happened-"

"Stop," Annie cut her off, grabbing her arm. "You can't get involved in this..." She paused, her tone shifting slightly. "What did the Military Police want with you earlier?"

Anja was caught off guard. "How did you know about that?"

"They came to talk to me," Annie explained. "About Nac."

Anja's eyes dropped to the floor. "So it was you..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Why cover for me? I'm guilty, Annie. I killed him. And I just stood there, frozen, too afraid to say anything."

Annie's expression softened. "Don't think that way. You tried to help him. It was chaos out there."

"I didn't want to hurt anyone—" Anja's voice trembled with emotion.

Annie cut her off with a gentle shake of her head. "I know you didn't, but you need to stop dwelling on it. It doesn't accomplish anything Just... forget about it for now. Please."

There was a pause as Anja took a deep breath and collected her thoughts. "…They also offered me a place in the MPs," she finally said, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Annie's eyebrows rose slightly. "Anja, that's... that's a great opportunity."

Anja's expression darkened, she let out a humorless laugh. "Is it?" Her voice was laced with skepticism. "They asked for information about Eren..."

"Did you...tell them anything?"

"Of course not," Anja replied, a hint of offense in her voice.

Annie seemed to relax slightly. "Listen, you probably don't have to say anything. As long as you don't antagonize them, the offer would likely still stand." Her tone grew urgent as she leaned forward, her eyes locked onto Anja's. "The battle of Trost should be a wake-up call. You nearly died out there. Multiple times." She paused as if considering her words, before continuing. "But you survived. That's what matters. Everything else... it's just noise. The MPs would keep you safe, away from the front lines. Away from all of this chaos and danger. Haven't you had enough?"

Anja's hand unconsciously went to her pocket, feeling the weight of Nile's letter. "But what about everyone else? I'd be abandoning them."Her voice was filled with concern.

Annie's expression softened, a flicker of pain and resignation passing through her eyes. For a brief moment, her carefully constructed mask slipped. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if to steady herself, before speaking again.

"You can't help everyone, Anja," Annie said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sometimes... sometimes you have to put yourself first. It's the only way to survive in this world."

As Annie's words sank in, Anja felt her resolve wavering. The promise of safety, perhaps an escape from the nightmares that plagued her... it was tempting. So tempting.

But the thought of abandoning her friends, of turning her back on them... it went against everything she believed in, she just couldn't bring herself to do it.

---

"If that will be all, Cadet," Zachary said, his tone final.

"No—Wait!" Anja's voice cracked, desperation seeping through. "I trust Eren with my life. He's not just a Titan, he's my friend, a comrade who's fought and bled alongside us. He's saved countless lives, including mine. He fought and killed dozens of Titans in battle. If that isn't proof of his commitment to humanity, I don't know what is... We can't turn our backs on him..."

Nile scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "Touching words, Cadet, but they change nothing. Sentiment has no place in matters of humanity's survival."

Zachary nodded gravely. "Thank you, Cadet Wolf. If there are no further witnesses..." He gestured for her to go to her seat.

Anja slumped next to Armin, defeat etched on her face.

"You did your best," Armin whispered, but his words offered little comfort.

The Premier cleared his throat. "In light of the evidence presented, I will now summarize the key points of this trial."

As Zachary recounted the arguments, Anja's hope dwindled. The case seemed to lean overwhelmingly towards the Military Police. Nile stood confident, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

Just as Zachary prepared to deliver his verdict, a member of the jury whispered urgently in his ear. Anja's heart sank further.

Her eyes darted around the courtroom, landing on Erwin. To her surprise, someone was leaning close to him, speaking in hushed tones. Even more surprising was the subtle smile that played on Erwin's lips.

"Cadet Wolf," Zachary's voice cut through her observations. "Tell me, has anyone approached you here today?"

The question caught Anja off guard. She noticed Erwin lean forward slightly, his eyes sharp.

Anja swallowed hard, nodding. "Yes, sir. A man spoke to me earlier." The courtroom erupted in shocked whispers.

"And what exactly did this person tell you?" Zachary pressed.

"He... he told me that I should consider my future. That some things are better left unsaid."

Zachary leaned forward, his gaze intense. "These are serious implications. Has any party involved in this trial approached you? Do you have anything else to say that could shed light on this matter?"

Anja's hand unconsciously went to her pocket, fingers brushing against the Military Police's letter. The weight of it seemed to pull her down, drowning out the clamor of the courtroom.

---

1 Day Ago​

Anja stood amidst the rubble, Nile's letter clutched in her hand, she glanced at its seal, still unbroken. Around her, the cleanup efforts continued, a grim reminder of the battle's toll. Occasionally, someone would wave or nod in her direction, a gesture of recognition that made her stomach churn with guilt.

"You've grown taller."

The familiar voice cut through her thoughts. Anja turned to find Captain Levi standing behind her, his steel-gray eyes as piercing as ever. A flicker of something – annoyance, perhaps – crossed his face.

"Captain Levi?" Anja's eyes widened in surprise. It had been years since she'd last seen him, back when she was just a desperate refugee in Trost.

"Didn't think you'd remember me," Levi said, his tone neutral. He glanced at the letter in her hand, then back to her face. "Seems like you've been busy."

Anja nodded, unsure how to respond. "I... yes, sir. I didn't expect to see you here."

"Tch. Where else would I be?" Levi's gaze swept over the cleanup efforts. "This mess isn't going to clean itself."

A moment of awkward silence stretched between them. Anja fidgeted with the letter, a thousand questions on the tip of her tongue.

"So," Levi finally said, "you followed my advice after all. Joined the military."

"I did," Anja replied, a hint of defiance in her voice. "It was the right thing to do."

Levi's expression remained impassive, but there was a glint of... approval? in his eyes. "Big day tomorrow, I hear."

Anja's grip on the letter tightened. "Yeah..."

"Interesting times we're living in," Levi continued, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "Humans turning into Titans. Or is it the other way around?"

"Eren is not a Titan!" Anja snapped, surprising herself.

Levi raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. "You're right. He's a joke. I don't know how that little shit's got people so scared."

Anja opened her mouth, then closed it again. Had he seen him?

Before she could even muster a reply, he was already walking away.

"Are you coming?"

As they walked through the rubble they came about a bustling camp, Levi spoke again. "There's someone who wants to meet you. Been pestering me about it for days."

"Who?" Anja frowned. "And what about Eren? Where is he? Is he okay?"

A hint of amusement crossed Levi's face. "One thing at a time, brat. Do this for me, and maybe you'll get answers. Anything to get her off my back."

They approached a large tent surrounded by armed guards. The canvas walls bulged oddly in places as if something massive was moving inside. Before they could reach it, the flap burst open and a figure practically exploded out, vibrating with excitement.

The woman who emerged was tall and lanky, with messy brown hair tied back in a ponytail. Her glasses glinted in the sunlight as she adjusted them, a manic grin spreading across her face.

"Four Eyes, meet Anja Wolf," Levi said flatly. "Anja, this is Hange."

"The Hero of Trost!" Hange exclaimed, grabbing Anja's hand and shaking it vigorously. Her grip was surprisingly strong. "Section Commander Hange Zöe, It's an honor to finally meet you in the flesh! I've been dying to pick your brain!"

Anja blinked, overwhelmed by Hange's enthusiasm. "I... it's nice to meet you too, Section Commander."

"Oh, please, call me Hange!" She waved a hand dismissively. "Now, tell me everything! I heard you got up close and personal with the Armored Titan. What was its skin like? Did you notice any weak points? How fast could it move? Did it show any signs of intelligence beyond basic instinct?"

The questions came rapid-fire, leaving Anja reeling. She glanced at Levi for help, but he had already taken a step back, a look of long-suffering patience on his face.

"I... well..." Anja stammered, trying to organize her thoughts. "Its skin was hard, like metal I think... I couldn't really damage it with my blades. And it was fast, faster than I expected for something so big."

Hange's eyes lit up. "Fascinating! And its behavior? Did it seem to have a goal beyond simple destruction?"

Before Anja could attempt to answer, a new voice cut through the chaos.

"That's enough for now, Section Commander. Let's not overwhelm our guest."

Anja turned to see a tall, imposing man approaching. His blonde hair was neatly parted, and his blue eyes seemed to pierce right through her.

"Commander Erwin," Hange said. Even Levi seemed to straighten up slightly.

"Anja Wolf," Erwin said, his voice smooth and controlled. "Your actions during the battle have not gone unnoticed. I'd like to speak with you privately, if you don't mind."

Anja glanced at Levi, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"Of course, sir," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

As they walked away from the others, Erwin spoke, his tone casual but his eyes calculating. "I understand you've been quite popular lately, Cadet Wolf. The 'Hero of Trost,' they're calling you."

Anja's hand unconsciously went to her pocket, where Nile's letter sat. "I'm no hero, sir..."

Erwin nodded, his expression softening slightly. "Modesty is admirable. Your brother, Heinrik, had a similar quality. He was a fine soldier."

The mention of her brother caught Anja off guard. Before she could respond, Erwin continued, "Tell me, what are your thoughts on Eren Jaeger's situation?"

"Eren?" Anja's voice grew passionate. "He's not dangerous as people say, sir. He's my friend. He saved us." She hesitated for a moment before asking, "Do you know where he's being held?"

Erwin nodded, "He is currently being held at the courtroom, where he awaits trial, in the custody of the Military Police. For now, he is safe."

Anja felt a wave of relief wash over her.

"Are you willing to state your views on Eren officially?" Erwin asked.

"Of course. At the trial, if it would help him."

Erwin's lips curved into a small smile. "If you want to help your friend, I'd suggest you speak the truth about what you've seen and what you know of Jaeger. Your words carry weight now, whether you feel like a hero or not."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "It is my belief that Eren Jaeger could be crucial to humanity's survival. But there are those who fear what they don't understand. And they might seek to destroy it."

Anja's brow furrowed. "You mean... the Military Police?"

Erwin's gaze flickered to her pocket. "I couldn't say. But I imagine you have some decisions to make regarding your future."

Anja hesitated, then pulled out the letter. "They... they offered me a position."

"I see," Erwin said, his tone neutral. "May I ask what you plan to do with it?"

"I'm not sure," Anja admitted. "Should I... do you want to see it?"

Erwin shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "No need, Cadet. But if I were you, I'd hold onto it. You never know when such things might prove useful."

His tone was light, but there was a gleam in his eye that made Anja pause.

"Bring it with you tomorrow," he added. "Remember, the most powerful weapon in that courtroom will be the truth. All of it."

---

Anja's fingers closed around the letter in her pocket. With a trembling hand, she withdrew it. "I... I was given this."

The courtroom exploded into chaos. Zachary's gavel banged repeatedly as he called for order. Nile Dawk had half-risen from his seat, his face a mask of shock and anger.

As the noise died down, Zachary held out his hand. "Let me see that letter, Cadet."

Anja approached the bench, handing over the document.

Zachary examined it for a moment then turned back to Anja. "Cadet Wolf, why didn't you mention this letter earlier?"

Anja's voice shook as she replied, "I... I was scared, sir. I didn't know what to do."

Zachary nodded slowly, his eyes moving across the courtroom, lingering on each faction before settling back on Anja. "Cadet Wolf, you may step down. Thank you."

Anja nodded, her legs unsteady as she made her way back to the witness area. She could feel the burning glares from the Military Police section, particularly from Commander Nile Dawk. The weight of what she'd just done hadn't fully sunk in yet.

As Zachary broke the seal and read the letter, his expression grew increasingly grave. He looked up, his gaze settling on Nile. "Commander Dawk, would you care to explain this?"

Nile's composure was visibly shaken. "Premier, this is clearly a misunderstanding. We were merely-"

Erwin interjected smoothly. "Attempting to buy the silence of the Hero of Trost?"

Nile's face reddened. "How dare you insinuate—"

"Enough," Zachary's voice cut through the rising tension. "Commander Smith, you may speak."

Erwin stood, his presence commanding the room. "Premier Zachary, esteemed members of the court. We stand at a crossroads in humanity's history. What we've witnessed here today goes beyond the fate of one soldier.

"Cadet Wolf's testimony paints a clear picture of Eren Jaeger's commitment to humanity. Her account stands in stark contrast to the fears and suspicions leveled against him.

"But more troubling is the apparent attempt to silence this key witness. If certain factions are willing to compromise the integrity of this trial, we must ask: what other truths are they concealing?

"Eren Jaeger represents our first real advantage against the Titans. To squander this opportunity out of fear would betray every life lost in our century-long struggle.

"The Scout Regiment stands ready to harness Jaeger's power for mankind's benefit. We have the experience and resolve to turn this unprecedented situation into humanity's first true hope.

"I once again, urge the court to consider not just our immediate safety, but our future beyond these walls. The choice is clear: we can fear the unknown, or seize this chance to turn the tide in our war."

As Erwin finished, a heavy silence fell over the courtroom. Nile attempted to interject, but Zachary raised his hand, silencing him.

"Thank you, Commander Smith," Zachary said, his tone grave. "I believe I've heard enough to render my decision."

The tension in the room was palpable as Zachary cleared his throat, all eyes fixed upon him.

"Eren Jaeger possesses an ability that, while potentially dangerous, cannot be denied as a strategic advantage in the war against the Titans," Zachary began. "The Military Police's proposal to dissect and terminate Jaeger is short-sighted at best, and at worst, a grave misstep in humanity's fight for survival."

Nile Dawk stood abruptly. "Your Honor, I must protest! The safety of our citizens within the walls-"

"Is precisely why we must take this chance, Commander Dawk," Zachary interrupted firmly. "Your organization's attempt to influence testimony has cast doubt on your motivations and judgment in this matter."

Nile sank back into his seat, his face a mask of barely contained fury.

Zachary continued, "The Scout Regiment, despite the risks involved, has presented a clear plan for utilizing Jaeger's abilities in reclaiming Wall Maria. They have also demonstrated a willingness to take necessary precautions."

He paused, his eyes moving to Erwin and Levi. "Therefore, I am entrusting Eren Jaeger to the custody of the Scout Regiment, and as it was suggested, under the direct supervision of Captain Levi."

A mixture of gasps, cheers, and angry mutters filled the room.

"However," Zachary added, his voice cutting through the noise, "this decision is conditional. The Scout Regiment will be held responsible for Jaeger's actions. Any failure to control him will result in his immediate execution. Is that understood?"

Erwin stood, saluting. "We accept full responsibility."

---

The backroom was cramped, tension and relief mingling in the air. Eren sat on a rickety chair, his face a mix of exhaustion and disbelief. Hange paced excitedly, while Levi leaned against the wall keeping close watch on Eren, his expression inscrutable as ever.

When Anja entered, Eren's face lit up. "Anja!"

Mikasa and Armin were right behind her. Mikasa immediately went to Eren's side, checking him over for injuries, while Armin smiled at Anja, relief evident in his eyes.

"You were amazing out there," Armin said. "The way you stood up to the MPs..."

Anja managed a shaky smile. "I just did what I thought was right."

Before she could say more, the door opened again, and Commander Erwin strode in, his presence filling the small space.

"Well done, Cadet Wolf," Erwin said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "Your testimony was crucial to our success today."

Anja nodded, still processing the whirlwind of events. "Thank you, sir, but I just told the truth I—"

She broke off as another Scout entered the room. Anja's eyes widened in recognition—it was the person who had approached her before the trial, now clad in a Scout Regiment uniform.

Understanding dawned on Anja's face. "It was you," she whispered. "You warned me..."

Erwin's lips curved into a small smile. "I believe some explanation is in order," he said, his voice calm. He gestured to the Scout beside him.

"A calculated move. We needed to plant the idea that the MPs were trying to influence the testimony, it had to be done somewhere he could be seen."

Armin's eyes widened. "So the news could spread and reach to the Premier that Anja had been approached..."

"Yes, combined with the letter, it was enough to cast doubt on the MP's entire case, given the right timing."

Hange, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, spoke up a grin spreading across her face. "It was brilliantly played, Erwin. The MPs never saw it coming."

Levi snorted. "I preferred the other plan. But at least this worked."

"You used me," Anja said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I gave you the opportunity to help your friend." Erwin corrected gently. "If I had told you beforehand the plan wouldn't have been as effective, your reactions had to be genuine."

"What you need to understand is that you exposed the truth about Eren's potential, and about the Scout Regiment's ability to serve humanity's best interests."

Anja paused, letting Erwin's words sink in. She had been a pawn in his game, yes, but a willing one. And the outcome - Eren's freedom and the chance to fight for humanity - made it all worthwhile.

"I understand your position is... precarious, given the MPs' new interest in you," Erwin continued. "Joining the Scouts would provide you with protection and purpose. We could use someone with your courage and integrity."

Anja's heart raced. Join the Scouts? It was what she had always wanted.

"But of course, doing so now wouldn't be advisable. Take some time to consider the offer." He glanced at Eren. "I'm sure you and your friends have much to discuss. We'll give you some privacy."

With that, he left, Hange, Levi and the brown-haired scout following.

As the door closed, Anja turned to her friends, a mix of emotions on her face.

Anja smiled, the weight of the future both daunting and exhilarating. She could see her path again now - it lay with the Scouts, with her friends, with the fight for humanity.

/

/

/

Note: It's finally here, sorry for the delay.(Made some slight edits(for repeated phrases) but please let me know if I missed anything.)

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter XVIII: Strings

---

The sun shone brightly over the sprawling refugee camp on the outskirts of Trost. Tents and makeshift shelters stretched as far as the eye could see. Most people had been unable to relocate, while others had stubbornly decided to go back and claim the rubble where their homes once stood. But many had been sprawling in improvised settlements surrounding the fallen city.

Amidst this sea of canvas and despair, a small group of soldiers moved, led by a young woman with red hair that caught the fading light like a fiery halo. As they walked through the camp, people began to recognize her, whispering excitedly and pointing. Some even called out her name.

Anja Wolf, the Hero of Trost, moved through the camp with purpose, her Scout Regiment uniform pristine despite the dust and grime of the surroundings. She smiled and waved at the people, feeling a mix of pride and nervousness at their recognition. At her side, a squad of fellow Scouts distributed supplies - blankets, food, medicine - to the eager hands of the refugees.

"Bless you, miss," an elderly woman said, tears in her eyes as she accepted a loaf of bread from Anja. "You're a true hero. You saved us all!"

Anja smiled, a warmth spreading through her chest at the woman's words, even as a twinge of discomfort twisted in her gut. "I'm just doing my duty," she said, her voice carrying a note of humility that had been carefully coached by her superiors. "We're all in this together."

As she moved through the camp, Anja couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship with these people. She, too, had once lost everything when the Titans breached Wall Maria. She, too, had found refuge in Trost, only to see the city now fallen to ruin.

"I know your pain," she said, her voice rising above the murmur of the crowd. "I was there when Shiganshina fell. I saw my home, my family, everything I knew taken by the Titans. And when Trost was attacked, I felt that same despair."

The refugees nodded. They clung to Anja's words, to the strength and resolve in her voice. Children looked up at her with wide, admiring eyes, and Anja felt a weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders.

"They call it a victory," Anja continued, her eyes sweeping over the sea of faces. "But look around you. Look at the ruins of our city, the thousands displaced. Is this what victory looks like?"

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.

"No," Anja said, her voice growing stronger, more impassioned. "This is not a victory. This is a wake-up call. A reminder that the Titans will not rest until every last one of us is devoured. Until every single one of our homes is destroyed. But we will not let that happen. We will not cower in fear. We will not hide behind our walls any longer. We will stand and fight!" She paused, letting the words sink in, then raised her voice to a shout. "Because this attack has shown us something. It has shown us that we are capable of fighting back. We are capable of surviving. And we are capable of reclaiming what is rightfully ours!"

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, the sound washing over Anja like a physical force. She basked in it, feeling a rush of something she couldn't quite name. Pride? Purpose? She had been so accustomed to others seeing her with fear that this felt entirely new. Here, in this moment, she was loved, admired, respected.

"The Scout Regiment leads the charge," she cried, her fist punching the air. "But we cannot do it alone. We need your support. Every donation of clothes, money, your skill - every volunteer willing to take up the fight, brings us one step closer to victory. Together, we can push the Titans back and finally put an end to them. Together, we can build a future worth fighting for!"

As the applause thundered around her, Anja felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Moblit, one of her assigned handlers. He nodded approvingly. "Well done," he said, his voice low. "Missed a few of your lines, but the delivery was good."

"Oh… I'll try to do better next time," Anja said, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. But as she looked back at the cheering crowd, a genuine smile spread across her face, the adoration and hope in their eyes fueling something warm in her chest.

She moved away from the crowd as people began making donations and some of the younger refugees started signing up to join the military. Anja watched as they handed over meager possessions, things they could barely afford to give, all for the sake of the cause. For a moment, a wave of guilt washed over her.

"We shouldn't ask donations from these people… They barely have anything left…" she murmured to Moblit, her brow furrowed with concern.

Moblit placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Every little bit helps. These people want to contribute. They believe in what we're doing. In what you're doing. Come on, we're almost done here. Give your statement to the press like you've practiced and we can move on."

Anja took a deep breath. "Alright…" Squaring her shoulders as she turned to face the crowd of journalists that had gathered, their pens poised over notepads.

An old man in the front row raised his hand and introduced himself. "Roy, from Berg Newspapers, Miss Anja, the people in Wall Sina are wondering, do you have any plans to visit the capital, soon?" the reporter called out.

Anja smiled politely. "My duty is here at the moment. We are helping the immediate victims of the Titan attack. But of course, I would gladly go if invited." The words felt stiff and rehearsed on her tongue, but she maintained her composed exterior.

"Miss Anja, what message do you have for the refugees of Trost? Asked another journalist.

Anja's reply was immediate. "I would tell them to stay strong and never give up. We are working tirelessly to ensure their safety and aid them in the reconstruction of the city."

"Miss!" another voice shouted. A man with a notebook and a press badge pushed his way to the front of the crowd. "Can you tell us about your experiences in Trost? What was it like to face the Armored Titan one-on-one?"

Anja's breath caught in her throat, the memories flooding back in a rush blood, the stench of death. For a moment, she was back there, the world narrowed to the pounding of her heart and the Titan's glowing orange eyes, the feeling of bone-deep exhaustion and terror, the rage that had consumed her. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

Moblit smoothly stepped in, placing himself between Anja and the reporters. "I'm afraid that's all the time we have for questions today. Miss Wolf has a very busy schedule. Rest assured, the Scout Regiment will be releasing an official statement about the Battle of Trost soon. Thank you for your time."

With that, he ushered Anja away, his hand firm on her elbow. Anja let herself be led, her mind still reeling, she could still hear the cheers of the people. It wasn't until they were safely in the carriage, rattling down the road back towards Trost, that she allowed herself to breathe.

Moblit was already rifling through his notes, making marks and muttering to himself. After a few moments, he looked up at Anja with a satisfied smile.

"Excellent work today, Anja," he said, clapping her on the shoulder. "The Section Commander will be thrilled with the turnout, and the donations."

Anja nodded, forcing a smile. "I'm just glad I could help," she said, but the words rang hollow even to her own ears.

As the carriage bumped along the uneven road, Anja stared out the window, watching the refugee camp disappear behind them. The admiration, the cheers, the hopeful faces - it had filled her with a sense of purpose, of pride. But beneath it all, a nagging doubt twisted in her gut.

Was this really helping? Or was she just a figurehead, a symbol to be paraded around? She thought of the refugees handing over their last scraps of food, their worn clothing, their sons and daughters. They were placing their hopes in her, in the Scout Regiment.

But could they really deliver on those promises? Could they truly defeat the Titans, reclaim the land that had been lost? Or were they just feeding people false hope?

Anja shook her head. No, she was making a difference. She had to believe that. The Scout Regiment was humanity's best chance, and if her role was to inspire people, to give them something to believe in, then that's what she would do.

She straightened her shoulders, turning back to Moblit.

"What's next on the schedule?"

---

Armin sat with Mikasa in a quiet corner of the bustling military barracks, watching as soldiers went about their duties. He could tell that Mikasa was worried, her dark eyes clouded with concern.

"Still no news of Eren," Mikasa murmured. "It's been weeks. I thought we'd have heard something by now."

Armin nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I'm sure he is okay, the Scouts will protect him."

Mikasa sighed, her fingers absently tracing the worn edge of her scarf. "I know. It's just... hard, not knowing anything, the wait is killing me."

"We'll see him again soon enough," Armin said, his voice filled with quiet conviction. "We are just a week away from choosing our regiments. We'll be together again, all of us."

Mikasa glanced at him, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "You really want to join?"

Armin's smile was small but determined. "Yes, I've made up my mind. This goes beyond Eren. Seeing the world beyond the walls, that's what I've always wanted... I'm not strong like you but I'll try my best to not be a hinderance."

Mikasa turned to him, her expression fierce. "Don't say that, Armin. If it wasn't for you the Armored would have killed Eren, us, we wouldn't even be here to begin with. The Scouts need someone like you."

Armin ducked his head, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "I don't know about that..."

Mikasa gripped his hand, forcing him to meet her gaze. "I do. Armin, you have so much potential. You just need to believe in yourself, the way we believe in you."

Armin's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and gratitude shining in their blue depths. "Thank you, Mikasa. That... that means a lot."

Mikasa gave him a small nod, they sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Then Mikasa broke the silence, her voice quiet. "Do you think Anja has seen Eren? She's joined them already..."

Armin shook his head. "If she had, she would have told us. Besides, it's not like she's around much these days."

He nodded towards a nearby poster, one of many that had sprung up around the camp in recent days. A rendition of Anja in a Scout Regiment jacket, her red hair blowing dramatically in the wind, with the slogan "Join the Hero of Trost!" emblazoned beneath.

Mikasa's expression darkened as she took in the poster. "Right, she's busy being paraded around like some kind of mascot. Just look at this stuff. The military is treating her like she's the only one who fought in Trost."

Armin sighed. "I know…"

"But why?" Mikasa asked, frustration seeping into her voice. "Have they forgotten everything Eren did? Everything we did?"

Armin was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "I think... I think it's because Eren's situation is difficult for people to understand. A human who can turn into a Titan? It's frightening, even for those who know him. But Anja... she's easier to market as a hero. A human who fought against the Armored Titan, it can inspire others. She just fits the narrative they want to sell. You talk about it long enough, and soon they might even forget Eren took a part in the battle at all…"

Mikasa scoffed. "So they're just using her and she's smiling and waving while Eren is left to languish somewhere? Does that sound fair to you?"

"I don't think she---"

"Lies!"

Their conversation was cut short by a sudden commotion across the yard. A group of cadets had gathered around Mina Carolina, who was tearing down a poster with a look of pure rage.

"It's all lies!" Mina screamed, her voice cracking with emotion. "Anja Wolf is no hero. She's a murderer!"

The cadets around her murmured, shock and disbelief rippling through the crowd.

"What are you talking about, Mina?" a cadet asked, stepping forward. "Anja fought the Armored Titan. She saved countless lives. How can you say that?"

Mina whirled on him, her eyes wild. "Because I saw the truth! I was there, in the battle. I saw her kill Nac Tius, one of our own comrades! She tore him apart like a rabid animal!"

Gasps of horror echoed through the group. Some cadets stepped back, their faces pale.

"You're lying," another cadet said, shaking his head vehemently. "Anja would never do that. She's a hero, a true soldier. You're just jealous of her!"

Mina laughed bitterly. "Jealous? Of a fraud, a killer posing as a savior? You're all blind, fooled by the propaganda they're shoving down our throats. Soon enough you'll see her for what she truly is."

The argument escalated, voices rising to shouts. Pushes turned to shoves, and soon the cadets were brawling openly.

Armin and Mikasa rushed over, trying to break up the fight.

"Stop it!" Armin yelled, struggling to be heard over the chaos. "This solves nothing! We shouldn't be fighting each other!"

But his words were drowned out by the clamor. It wasn't until the sharp whistles of the Military Police cut through the air that the cadets finally fell still, panting and glaring at each other.

The MPs pushed through the crowd, their faces stern.

"What's going on here?" one of them demanded.

The cadets parted, revealing the torn poster on the ground and Mina, who stood defiantly amidst the wreckage.

"She was tearing down the posters," a cadet explained, pointing at Mina. "Saying the Hero of Trost is a murderer."

The MP's eyes narrowed. He turned to Mina. "Is that so?"

Mina lifted her chin, her voice trembling but firm. "I'm just telling the truth. Anja Wolf is a murderer. She's dangerous."

The MP scoffed. "Save it for the magistrate, cadet. You're coming with us. For destroying military property and spreading seditious rumors."

Mina didn't resist as they snapped the cuffs on her wrists, but she cast a final, burning glance over her shoulder as they led her away. "The truth will come out," she said, her voice ringing with conviction. "You'll see. You'll all see."

As the MPs escorted Mina away, the crowd dispersed, murmuring uneasily. Mikasa watched them go, her expression unreadable.

Mikasa watched them go, her expression thoughtful. "Who could have put those ideas in her head?" she wondered aloud.

Armin didn't respond. He was staring at the torn poster on the ground, a troubled frown creasing his brow. He wanted to dismiss Mina's words outright, he couldn't quite shake the sliver of doubt that had lodged itself in his mind, she sounded so certain…

Anja, a killer? It seemed impossible to him... She was their friend. And yet...

He shook his head, more firmly this time.

No. He couldn't believe it. Until he had proof, concrete and undeniable.

He watched as the torn pieces of the poster were carried away by a swift breeze.

---

The tent was a world apart from streets of Trost. Inside, the air was charged, filled with the strong aromas of chemicals. Anja sat in a corner, perched on a rickety stool, a poster clutched in her hands. She stared down at the image of herself, rendered in bold, heroic strokes. In it, she stood tall and proud, a sword raised high above her head, the words "To Victory! Join the Hero of Trost!" printed on top.

Anja sighed, her brow furrowed. "Is all this really necessary?" she asked, holding up the poster for Hange to see.

Hange glanced up from her notes, her glasses glinting in the flickering light of the lanterns that hung from the tent's ceiling. Her makeshift desk was a jumble of crates and boxes, piled high with papers, books, and strange instruments. "Well, it does make it easier to get the word out," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. "You can't be everywhere at once, can you?"

Anja's shoulders slumped. "That's not what I meant..." she mumbled, but Hange had already turned back to her work, her attention consumed by the flask she was holding up to the light.

"Just try to focus on that speech again," Hange said absently, squinting at the liquid in the flask. "You nearly nailed it last time."

Anja sighed again, turning her gaze to the back of the poster, her speech, was written there. "Right..." She took a deep breath, trying to summon the enthusiasm that always seemed to elude her. "The Scout Regiment is at the forefront of Titan research. With your support, we can find their weaknesses, and..."

But the words felt hollow, a mere echo of the heroic image she was supposed to embody. Here, in the dimly lit confines of the tent, hearing the distant chatter of soldiers outside and the scratching of Hange's quill, Anja felt anything but heroic.

Her mind began to wander, drifting to thoughts of fresh air and open spaces. It would be nice to stretch her legs, to feel the wind on her face, if only for a moment. She glanced at Hange, who was now completely engrossed in comparing two flasks, holding them up to the scant light with a look of intense concentration.

Quietly, Anja rose from her stool, her eyes darting to the tent's entrance. The Scout soldiers standing guard outside seemed engaged in their own conversation, their backs turned. Anja's gaze then fell on a small, innocuous gap in the tent's rear wall, half-hidden behind a stack of crates. Slowly, carefully, she began to inch towards it, her footsteps muffled by the dirt floor.

She was just a few feet away when Hange's voice rang out, sharp and sudden in the stillness. "Incredible!"

Anja froze, her heart leaping into her throat. But when she turned, she saw that Hange wasn't looking at her. The researcher was on her feet, her eyes fixed on one of the Titans, a look of manic excitement on her face.

"Come take a look at this, Anja!" Hange exclaimed, beckoning her over.

Reluctantly, Anja followed, allowing herself to be led deeper into the tent. They passed through a series of flaps and partitions until they stood in a space dominated by two enormous forms.

Titans. They were pinned to the ground with massive spikes and bound with chains as thick as a man's arm. Anja felt her breath catch in her throat, a familiar fear rising in her chest. Even though she had seen the captured titans before, she still couldn't get used to it.

"Remember how I told you Chikatilo and Albert were sleepy during the night?" Hange asked, practically bouncing on her heels.

Anja blinked, tearing her gaze away from the Titans. "What? Who?"

Hange waved a hand dismissively. "My Titans! Didn't you pay attention?"

Anja felt a flush of embarrassment. "Oh, yes, I remember now." It was a lie, but Hange didn't seem to notice.

"Take a look at Beane here," Hange said, gesturing to the larger of the two Titans. It was a 7-meter class with short, messy brown hair and brown eyes. "I've been testing his response to sunlight deprivation."

As if on cue, a small clock on Hange's desk chimed, marking the passage of another hour. Hange's grin widened. "Three hours and counting, and he's still beaming! Ha! Isn't he a lively one?"

Anja's eyes were drawn to a small cage near the Titan's head, where two birds, one white feathered and another brown, fluttered and chirped. "What are those for?" she asked, nodding towards the cage.

Hange followed her gaze. "Ah, just a little experiment. I wanted to see if Titans exhibited any predatory behavior towards them. So far, nothing. Neither Bean nor Sawney showed the slightest interest in our feathered friends."

Anja frowned, studying the Titans more closely, the other one, a smaller 4-meter class with short blond hair and blue eyes. Unlike Beane, it seemed utterly still, its eyes open but vacant. Beane's eyes were fixed solely on Hange, tracking her every move with mindless hunger, it drooled opening its mouth. It paid no attention to the birds or her for that matter.

Hange moved closer to Beane, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The Titan stirred, rattling its chains as it strained towards her. Anja tensed, but Hange seemed unfazed.

"I believe they gain energy from sunlight," she explained, circling the restrained Titan. "But it doesn't seem to be a necessity for their survival. More like a boost to their system. Fascinating, isn't it?"

"Could we go a little further away?" Anja asked, unease prickling along her spine.

Hange blinked, as if remembering Anja's presence. "Oh, of course. Sorry, I get a bit carried away sometimes." She carefully picked up the bird cage and gestured for Anja to follow her. They took a few steps back, putting some distance between themselves and the Titan.

Anja tried to control the trembling in her hands. "How you can be so comfortable around them," she said, shaking her head. "After everything they've done to us..."

Hange's expression turned thoughtful. "It wasn't easy for me, at first," she admitted. "But the more I learned about them, the more fascinated I became. They're such unique creatures, Anja. Did you know they don't need to eat us to survive? In fact, they have no digestive system at all. Their bodies sustain themselves through some unknown mechanism. No lungs, no reproductive organs... and if you cut off any part of them other than the nape, they just regenerate it. It's truly mind-boggling."

She paused, her eyes taking on a distant look. "In some ways, their behavior remind me of certain predators in the animal kingdom. Take cats for instance, they often hunt and kill small animals not out of hunger but due to an instinctual drive. A compulsion devoid of rational motivation, brutal, yes, but there's no malice in it. It's just instinct, pure and simple."

Anja absorbed this information, her mind racing. "But why us? Why humans?"

Hange shrugged, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "That's the big question, isn't it?

"Taste, maybe?" Anja suggested.

"No, they don't have a sense of taste, I've already tested for it. Perhaps it's just hardwired into them."

She paused, her brow furrowing. "Of course, our recent expedition threw a wrench into a lot of my theories. The abnormals we encountered behaved in ways I've never seen before. I wish we could have captured one for study."

Hange sighed, running a hand through her hair. "There's still so much we don't know about them. I can't help but wonder, why they're so fixated on humans? With so many options to choose from they exclusively target us. Only to regurgitate our remains later. It's as if the act of killing is more important than the consumption itself."

Anja's stomach turned at the thought. She remembered the aftermath of Trost, the streets littered with the half-eaten corpses of soldiers and civilians alike, the image was seared into her mind. What of Nac? A terrible thought occurred to her.

"Section Commander," she said slowly, "do Titans ever eat the bodies of those who are already dead? Or do they only attack the living?"

Hange paused, considering the question. "You know, in all my studies and expeditions, I've never seen a Titan show much interest in a corpse, when it comes to eating it of course. They seem to be drawn exclusively to living humans. Once someone is dead, the Titans lose all interest. Just one of the many mysteries about their behavior."

She turned to Anja, a curious look in her eye. "Why do you ask? Did you see something during the battle that made you wonder?"

Just then, the tent flap opened, and Moblit entered, his arms laden with papers. "Section Commander, here are the reports you asked for." He paused, glancing between Hange and Anja. "Will you still be leaving tonight?"

Anja's head snapped up. "You're leaving?" she asked, unable to keep the surprise from her voice.

Hange smacked her forehead. "Ah, I'd almost forgotten! Thank you, Moblit." She turned to Anja, an apologetic smile on her face. "I'll be off for a few days, paying your friend Eren a visit."

Anja's heart leapt. "Eren? Can I go with you?"

Hange's expression turned sympathetic. "Oh, I... Well, I don't know. It's not something I can decide. Commander Erwin is the only one who can authorize a visit."

Anja felt her shoulders slump. But Hange's next words sent a flicker of hope through her chest.

"I need to report to the Commander before leaving," Hange said, gathering up her notes. "Why don't you come with me? You can ask him yourself."

Anja followed Hange out of the tent, falling into step beside her as they navigated the streets of Trost. The evening air, cool and fresh compared to the stuffiness of the tent, filled Anja's lungs as she walked.

Several minutes into their journey, Hange abruptly stopped, frowning as she sifted through the papers in her hands. "Oh no," she muttered, scanning the documents. "I forgot the report from the last expedition. It must still be on my desk."

Anja glanced at Hange, noting her worried expression. "I can go back and get it for you if you'd like," she offered. "You mentioned you were already running late, right?"

Hange paused, considering the offer, then nodded with a grateful smile. "That would be a huge help. The report should be on my desk, labeled 'Expedition 56'. It contains notes and sketches from our last mission outside the walls."

"Got it," Anja said, turning back towards the tent. "I'll meet you at Commander Erwin's office once I find it."

"Thank you, Anja!" Hange called out as Anja started to jog away. "I owe you one!"

Anja waved in acknowledgment and retraced their steps through the dilapidated streets, the moon's bright glow making navigation easy. The guards, familiar with her, allowed her to pass unhindered as she reached the tent.

Inside, Anja approached Hange's 'desk', that cluttered assortment of boxes and crates laden with papers, books, and peculiar instruments. A birdcage housing two small birds, one white and one brown—the same ones Hange had placed near the Titans earlier—caught her attention briefly.

Focusing on her task, Anja began searching through the papers for the one marked 'Expedition 56'. As she rummaged, her eyes fell upon a small glass vial sitting alone in a rack, filled with a dark, syrupy liquid. For an instant, the liquid seemed to move, as if something were stirring within its opaque depths.

Transfixed, Anja watched the liquid swirl and pulse, almost as if it were alive. The mesmerizing sight held her gaze, drawing her in.

Without warning, the caged birds burst into a chorus of agitated chirps, breaking Anja's trance. Startled, she jerked back, her elbow knocking into a precariously balanced piece of equipment. She lunged to catch it, but the rack toppled, sending the vial tumbling to the edge.

"Damn it," Anja muttered as the vial hit against the birdcage on the floor, only a hairline crack was enough to release its contents.

The dark liquid oozed out, pooling on the ground and emitting a strong, pungent odor. Some of it splashed onto the birdcage, causing the birds to flutter and chirp frantically. However, almost as quickly as they had reacted, they calmed, preening their feathers as if nothing had occurred.

Anja observed in astonishment as the spilled liquid rapidly evaporated, vanishing without a trace within seconds. Only a faint, lingering odor and the broken vial remained as evidence of the incident.

Spotting the 'Expedition 56' report, miraculously unscathed by the mishap, Anja grabbed it. She hastily scooped up the broken vial, depositing out of sight before hurrying out of the tent.

---

She arrived at the building where the Scout's Commander had set up temporary office. The structure, one of the few left mostly intact in the block, just a simple three story building, its windows dark save for a lone light flickering in an upstairs room. Two soldiers stood guard at the entrance, their faces stern and alert.

"The Commander is expecting you, Wolf," one of them said as Anja approached, nodding towards the door.

Anja acknowledged him with a quick nod and stepped inside, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. As she climbed the stairs to the second floor, muffled voices drifted down from the illuminated office above. She raised her hand to knock, but before her knuckles could connect with the wood, the door swung open.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with a scruffy blond beard stood in the doorway, his nose twitching as if catching a scent. "Thought I smelled something," he mumbled, eyeing Anja curiously.

"Just let her pass, Miche. It's alright," came Commander Erwin's voice from within the office.

Miche stepped aside, allowing Anja to enter. Inside, she found Hange standing by Erwin's desk, a stack of papers piled before her. Erwin himself sat behind the desk, his blue eyes sharp and assessing as they fell upon Anja.

"Sorry I took so long," Anja said, handing the report to Hange.

Hange accepted it with a grateful nod, adding it to the pile on Erwin's desk.

Erwin glanced at the papers, then back at Hange. "Be on your way now. I'll let you know if something comes up."

Anja blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. She had assumed she would be accompanying Hange to see Eren. But before she could voice her confusion, Hange placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Sorry," she murmured, an apologetic look in her eyes. Then, with a final nod to Erwin, she turned and left the office, Miche following close behind.

"Please, sit," Erwin said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

Anja hesitated for a moment before lowering herself into the seat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Sir, I guess Section Commander Hange already told you..."

"Yes, she has," Erwin said, his voice calm but firm. "And the answer is no."

Anja's heart sank, disappointment welling up inside her. But before she could protest, Erwin continued.

"I understand your desire to see your friend, and I assure you, you will. But your work here is not yet finished."

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk, hands clasped before him. "According to Hange's reports and the accounts I've received, the turnout at your recent appearances has been increasing. The support you've gathered, the donations you've secured are proving incredibly helpful to our cause."

Anja shifted in her seat, a mix of pride and discomfort at the praise. She knew the words she spoke at those events weren't entirely her own. She glanced around the office, taking in the maps and diagrams pinned to the walls, the books and papers scattered across every surface. On Erwin's desk, she noticed a large map marked with numerous annotations and symbols, like a battle plan in the making.

"With the regiment assignments coming up next week, I have no doubt that many will join our ranks because of you," Erwin continued. "Your presence here is vital. The people look to you as a symbol of hope, a beacon in these dark times. We need that now more than ever."

He paused, his gaze softening slightly. "I know it's a heavy burden to bear. But you're not alone in this. We're all fighting for the same cause, working towards the same goal."

Anja nodded, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "I understand, sir. I just... I worry about my friends, it's been a while since I've seen them."

Erwin smiled, a small, reassuring curve of his lips. "Rest assured; they are all doing well. Eren, in particular, is making excellent progress under the best possible care and protection. And who knows? Perhaps due to your efforts, you might see them all join the Scout Regiment soon. Your influence can go a long way in inspiring others to join our cause."

Anja's eyes lit up at the possibility, a hopeful smile spreading across her face. "Really? You think so, sir?"

Erwin nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yes, I do. But for now, let us focus on the task at hand. Word of your achievements has already reached the capital, according to the papers." He glanced down at the map on his desk, his finger tracing a line from Trost to the center of the map."It's only a matter of time before you receive an official invitation."

Anja's eyes widened. The heart of the kingdom, where the nobles and the king resided, sounded like a world apart from their own. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying.

"A visit to the capital would be a tremendous opportunity," Erwin said, his voice taking on a note of excitement. "The support and resources we could secure there would be invaluable for the upcoming expedition."

Anja tilted her head. "What kind of expedition, sir?"

He tapped the map again, his gaze growing distant for a moment. "I'm still charting out the details, but what you need to know is that it will be of utmost importance to our cause. The resources and support you're helping to secure will be crucial to its success."

Anja leaned forward. "What do you need me to do, sir?"

Erwin's smile widened, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. "Keep doing what you're doing. Inspire the people. Rally their support. Secure the resources we need. Your role in making this possible cannot be overstated."

He stood, rounding the desk to place a hand on Anja's shoulder. "I know I'm asking a lot of you, Wolf. But I wouldn't do so if I didn't believe in your ability to rise to the challenge."

Anja rose to her feet, meeting Erwin's gaze with a newfound determination. "I won't let you down, sir. I'll do whatever it takes."

Erwin nodded. "I know you will. Now, I won't keep you any longer, get some rest soldier. You have a busy day ahead of you tomorrow."

As Anja left Erwin's office, her mind buzzed with the weight of her new responsibilities. The expedition, the capital, the role she had to play... It was a lot to process. She made her way back to her quarters, the streets of Trost quiet and still in the late evening hours.

Exhausted from the day's events, Anja collapsed onto her bed, her eyes heavy with sleep. She drifted off almost immediately, the thoughts and challenges that lay ahead swirled together in her mind.

---

Anja found herself in a bustling city, surrounded by smiling faces and laughter. She couldn't quite place where or when she was, but it felt familiar, comforting.

A city, bustling with life. Laughter echoed through the air, carried on a warm breeze. Sunlight glints off shop windows and the smiles of passersby.

Familiar faces in the crowd. Friends, perhaps. They walk and talk, their expressions bright, their movements fluid and natural.

A flicker. A hum. It filled the air, growing louder and more insistent with each passing second. It was as if the world shivered, just for a moment.

The laughter continued, the smiles never faltering. But the edges of things blur, colors bleeding into one another.

As Anja looked down, she noticed the ground glistened. Red. Crimson blood. It pooled around her feet, seeping into the cracks of the pavement. Yet, everyone else walked through it without a care, their shoes leaving crimson footprints in their wake, yet there were no ripples.

She tried to cry out, to warn them, but her voice was lost in the static.

Silver glints in the sun. Thin, almost invisible threads, stretching up, up, into the darkening sky.

Attached to the limbs and heads of the people around her. Their movements felt twitchy now, unnatural. Puppets on invisible strings.

The red spreads, consuming the pavement, the streets. It laps at the feet of the puppets, but they pay it no mind.

She looked down on her own hands and saw that she, too, had strings. Dark and thin. But hers were different - instead of reaching up to the sky, they plunged downward, tethering her to the blood-soaked ground.

Then the strings began to pull tightly, dragging her down into the crimson puddle. She struggled, trying to resist, but the force was too strong. The blood rose around her, engulfing her, turning black, an abyss.

The puppets dance on, oblivious. Her hand sinks, the black rising, consuming.

Static fills the air, drowning out the laughter. The world tilts, the strings tighten.

Darkness, all-encompassing. A final, desperate gasp.

---

Anja jolted awake, a scream lodged in her throat. She sat up, her heart pounding, trying to shake off the lingering unease of the nightmare. As her eyes adjusted to the early morning light, she noticed a flicker of movement by her window.

Two birds sat on the sill, their small black eyes fixed on her, one white another brown feathered. Anja recognized them immediately – Hange's birds.

Unnerved, Anja rose from the bed, moving cautiously towards the window. As she approached, the birds took flight, disappearing into the bright sky.

Anja stood there for a moment, trying to make sense of what she had seen... How did they escape? Why where they there? But before she could dwell on it further, a knock at the door startled her back to reality.

"Anja?" Moblit's voice called from the other side. "We have to go. It's time for your speech."

Anja shook her head, pushing the strange events of the morning to the back of her mind. She had a job to do.

"I'll be right there," she called back, already reaching for her uniform. As she dressed, she tried to focus on the task ahead, on the words she would recite this time to inspire the people of Trost. But the unease of the nightmare lingered, a shadow at the edge of her thoughts, waiting to be acknowledged.

---

The day passed in a blur, Anja's mind split between the present moment and the lurking remnants of her unsettling dream. She stood on the stage, the words of her speech flowing from her lips as rehearsed hundreds of times, her voice projecting confidence and hope to the gathered crowd.

As the speech concluded, Anja stepped down to greet the people who had come to see her, falling into the familiar rhythm of her role as the Hero of Trost. She offered smiles and words of encouragement, her responses rehearsed and automatic.

"Thank you for your support," she said to one of the attendees, "Your help is much appreciated."

They smiled and moved on, a sea of faces, she could scarcely keep up with them all. And each moved on making way for the next person in line.

"Good to see the Hero of Trost in person. I was starting to think you were just a myth." the voice said, a hint of amusement underlying the words. "Quite the performance you put on up there."

"Thank you, it's…" Anja paused, her hand still extended, as she looked up to see who the voice belonged to. And when she did, her practiced smile faltered for a moment.

Annie?

---

The backstage was quiet, the muffled sounds of the dispersing crowd fading into the background. Annie leaned against a wall, her arms crossed, her expression a mix of nonchalance and subtle curiosity.

"So, I see you're doing well," she said, her eyes flicking to Anja's shoulder. "That wound of yours didn't heal yet?"

Anja touched the mark, feeling the scar run all the way to her back. Even under her jacket, it still felt as if it were burning slightly. "No, it bothers me a little, but it's nothing I can't handle. Can barely even feel it."

Annie's lips quirked in a faint smile. "Hmm, you didn't make such a bad choice with the Scouts after all."

Anja shrugged, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. She tried to muster some enthusiasm. "Yeah, I mean, it's great. They even gave me my own room. The food is nice…" Her voice trailed off, the initial excitement fading. "Yeah... It's..."

"Not what you expected?" Annie finished, her tone knowing.

Anja sighed. "No... But it's not all bad."

Annie pushed off from the wall, moving closer. She glanced at a poster of Anja hanging nearby, a hint of sarcasm in her tone. "I can see it has its benefits."

She shifted, eager to change the subject. "So... How have you been?"

Annie's expression remained neutral. "Well, the Garrison doesn't run out of tasks to give us, and we haven't even managed to get all of the rubble clear yet. But we're getting there."

"I meant if you are well."

A flicker of something - amusement, perhaps - crossed Annie's face. "I... Yes, can't complain."

Anja sighed, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "Doubt I'll get more than that from you. And the others?"

Annie shrugged giving her a quizzical look. "I can't say. Everyone is stuck in their own tasks." She paused, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. "You know, speaking of... What about Eren? No one has seen him since he joined up, I assumed you'd know."

Anja shook her head. "No, I haven't seen him… I just know he isn't in Trost. They're keeping things pretty quiet. I'm not even sure what they even plan to do with him, but I heard he's fine. Why?"

Annie nodded, her expression remained neutral. "I was just curious. He's your friend, after all you barely hear anything about him these days..."

Anja studied her for a moment, a faint frown creasing her brow. Something about Annie's tone didn't quite ring true.

Annie cleared her throat "So, anyway, we're all counting the days for when we pick our regiments."

"And... Have you decided yet?"

Annie's gaze turned cool. "If you think your speeches have made me change my mind, the answer is no. I will go to the Military Police."

Anja leaned in, her voice low and earnest. "Well, you can mock them all you want, but it's true. The Scout Regiment is the only one that can bring some real change."

Annie scoffed. "Save the propaganda for your speeches. I don't care about it." Her tone turned more joking. "By the looks of it, all you're doing is parading around. It's not like you're doing any actual work. I'd rather do that in the interior."

"Oh, I see where this is going." Anja wasn't deterred. A mischievous glint entered her eye. "I'll do you one better. C'mon." She grabbed her Scout cloak from a nearby chair and draped it over her shoulders, pulling up the hood to cover her face and opened the door outside motioning for Annie to follow .

Annie hesitated for a moment, suspicion warring with curiosity in her eyes, but eventually followed Anja through the door.

They walked through the back alleys and side streets, Anja's cloak billowing out behind her.

"Where are we going?" Annie asked, even as she fell into step behind Anja.

Anja glanced back, a smile playing on her lips. "You'll see."

They approached a checkpoint with armed guards bearing the Garrison Regiment's sigil stationed among the rubble and still-standing buildings.

"Isn't this area off-limits?" Annie murmured, her eyes darting to the shadows.

Anja waved a hand dismissively. "Just follow along, will you? Trust me."

She led Annie around a corner, weaving through broken buildings and sneaking past the guards. Annie seemed slightly on edge, but it didn't take long before they reached their destination. It wasn't the first time Anja had passed through there, sneaking in and out of Hange's lectures.

"This is kind of where I am at most of the time, in between 'speeches'." Anja explained, gesturing towards the large tent in front of them. "It's not exactly authorized, so we have to be careful." She moved towards the back of the tent, where there were no guards stationed, and began to clear away some crates that had been stacked there.

"I made this little escape route a while back," she said with a smirk, revealing a small hole in the canvas. Anja peeked inside, ensuring there was no one, then gestured for Annie. "Come on.

They slipped inside, the stale air was the first thing that hit her, she never got used to it, the dim interior filled with all of Hange's strange equipment and the two covered shapes of Beane and Sawney.

"What is this place?" Annie asked, her eyes adjusting to the gloom.

"This is where Section Commander Hange has been conducting most of her experiments, I've helped her a few times. She knows a lot about Titans." Anja's voice was tinged with excitement. "Just don't touch anything, please."

"There's more to being a Scout than speeches, huh?" Annie remarked, her gaze roving over the tent's contents.

Anja's attention was drawn to Hange's desk, a disorganized collection of crates. The cage where the birds had been was still there, but the tiny door was open. Someone had let them out?

Annie's voice pulled Anja's focus back. "What's that?" She pointed to two large, covered shapes in the center of the tent.

Anja followed her gaze, a hint of nervousness in her voice. "Oh, I'll show you, but promise not to freak out."

Slowly, she pulled back the cover from one of them, revealing the restrained form of a Titan. It was Beane, his brown eyes instantly locking onto Annie as he began to stir, straining against his bonds.

Annie stumbled back, her body tensing as if ready to attack, fear and shock written across her face. "W-why are they keeping Titans here? What---"

"Hey, calm down, it's alright, it can't do anything--" Anja tried to reassure her, but Beane was growing more agitated by the second. The Titan's eyes locked onto Annie, its groans escalating into growls.

Anja carefully stepped closer to Beane, trying to cover him with the tarp again. "Shh, quiet down," she whispered urgently.

But the Titan's movements became more frantic, its restraints creaking ominously. The noise level inside the tent rose, her heart pounded in her chest.

Outside, the muffled voices of guards could be heard.

"Hear that?" one guard said, his voice carrying a hint of suspicion.

"Did someone check in earlier?" another guard responded, sounding more alert.

Anja and Annie exchanged a panicked glance. Anja frantically pulled the tarp over Beane but the Titan only grew more agitated, thrashing against his bonds.

"We need to get out of here," Annie hissed, her eyes wide with urgency. "Now."

Anja nodded, her mind racing. They had to move fast. She grabbed Annie's arm, pulling her towards the back of the tent. The sound of the Titan's struggles and the approaching footsteps.

"What's going on with that thing?!" one of the guards called out, his voice closer now.

Anja and Annie slipped out through the hole, the cool fresh air hitting their faces as they emerged. Anja quickly covered the hole again with the crates,.

They ducked into the shadows, moving as quietly as possible. The guards' voices grew louder, and Anja's pulse raced. She could hear them searching the tent, their frustration evident.

"Nothing here, but I swear I heard something," a guard muttered.

"Keep looking." another replied.

Anja and Annie stayed low, creeping away from the tent and back towards the safer parts of the camp. Every step felt like an eternity, but finally, they reached a secluded alley, pausing to catch their breath.

"That... was too close," Anja whispered, her voice trembling.

Once they were sure they weren't being followed, Annie rounded on Anja, her eyes flashing with anger. "What the hell was that, Anja? Why would you bring me there?"

Anja held up her hands, taken aback by Annie's reaction. "I just wanted to show you the important work the Scouts are doing. I thought maybe if you saw it for yourself, you'd consider joining..."

Annie scoffed, shaking her head. "You thought showing me that thing would convince me? Are you out of your mind?"

"Annie, please, just listen--"

"No, you listen." Annie's voice was cold, her expression hard. "I'm not changing my mind. I'm joining the Military Police, and that's final."

Anja's shoulders slumped. "But why? Can't you see? We're the only ones doing anything to turn the tide of the war, you could do a lot of good here…"

Annie sighed, some of the anger draining from her posture. "It's not about that... I don't care about any of it, alright? I just…" Her voice faltered, and for a moment, her tough exterior seemed to crack.

There was a moment of tense silence. Annie's eyes were filled with a pain she couldn't voice.

Finally, Annie turned away, her voice barely above a whisper. "I have to go."

Annie's words hung in the air long after she'd disappeared from view, a final, echoing whisper.

Anja stood rooted to the spot, a tangle of emotions warring in her chest. Frustration, disappointment, a gnawing sense of failure.

"Where have you been?" he asked, his tone sharp. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Anja sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. "I'm sorry, sir. I just needed some air."

Moblit frowned, looking like he wanted to press further. But something in Anja's expression must have stopped him. "Fine. Just... don't disappear like that again, alright? We're going to have to reschedule for tomorrow."

"Yes, sir." The words were automatic, hollow.

Anja made her way to her quarters, each step a monumental effort. She fell onto her bed, not even bothering to undress. Exhaustion claimed her almost instantly, dragging her down into a restless, fitful sleep.

The wind whispered against the window, a gentle lullaby in the stillness of the night. Anja lay in bed, her mind adrift in the hazy space between wakefulness and dreams..

She turned, the sheets twisting around her, the pillow cool against her cheek. Sleep tugged at her, insistent, but something held her back. A feeling, a prickling at the edge of her consciousness.

The room was quiet, the shadows still. But the silence felt heavy, pregnant with something unseen, something waiting.

Anja's breath hitched, her heart a sudden drum in her chest. She lay frozen, every nerve straining, every sense heightened.

A sound, a whisper, a breath that wasn't her own. It came from everywhere and nowhere, a presence that filled the room, the air, her very lungs.

"Aa-n-j-a…"

It whispered, a hint of a trill in its tone.

She wanted to move, to sit up, to look. But her body was lead, her limbs heavy, unresponsive. Panic clawed at her throat, a scream that couldn't escape.

Something brushed against her foot, a feather-light touch that sent shivers racing up her spine. It moved, a slow, deliberate crawl, up her leg, her thigh, her stomach.

Anja's heart was a hummingbird, frantic, desperate. She tried to jerk away, to thrash, to fight, but she was paralyzed, a prisoner in her own skin.

The thing was at her face now. It hovered there, a breath away, a shadow in the darkness.

And then, pain. Searing, blinding, all-consuming. It lanced through her right eye, a white-hot needle that pierced to the very core of her being.

Anja screamed, but there was no sound. She writhed, but there was no movement. There was only the pain, the invasion, the sickening sense of something burrowing, twisting, violating.

It lasted an eternity, a heartbeat, a single, shuddering breath. And then…

Anja's eyes flew open, the morning sun a blinding glare. She lay in bed, her heart racing, her body drenched in sweat. The nightmare's grip on her mind was still fresh, the sensation of the unseen horror lingering.

She stumbled out of bed, her feet carrying her to the mirror almost of their own accord. Her hands shook as she leaned in close, examining her face, her eyes. Those vibrant green eyes stared back at her, wide and frightened, but unchanged…

Just another nightmare...

In the reflection, something caught her attention, two little shapes in the periphery of the mirror. Anja's gaze darted to the window, her breath catching in her throat.

There, on the sill, sat those two birds.

They were unnaturally still, their eyes open and staring, their bodies rigid. Like small statues.

Dead?

Then the door to her room burst open with a bang.

Moblit stood there, his face grave, his eyes wide.

"Wolf, you need to come with me. Now."

---

Anja stared at the steaming remains of Sawney and Beane, her mind struggling to comprehend what she was seeing. The Titans were reduced to nothing more than bones, their remains dissolving in the morning light.

Around her, Military Police soldiers swarmed the area, their voices a low, tense murmur as they investigated the scene. The research tent was being dismantled, the equipment packed away.

Moblit stood beside her, his face a mask of disbelief.

"Who could have done this?"

/

/

/

Note: It's finally here, life caught up to me and I've been busy. This one is a bit longer than the usual chapter, there's just too much going on, and I had to cut a lot. There are tons of things that didn't make it here, a lot having to do with side characters that are going through their own separate stories from the main plot. Let me know if you'd like to see a bonus side chapter of sorts, that delves more into them (Sasha, Ymir, Christa, Marco and Jean) or if you want me to just focus next week on continuing the main plot, thank you for reading!

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter XIX: Echoes

---

The midday sun streamed through the dusty windows of the cadet barracks, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. The air hung heavy with the scent of wood polish and sweat, a testament to the cadets' recent cleaning efforts. Outside, Trost was unusually quiet. The familiar sounds of reconstruction had faded, leaving only the occasional distant call of soldiers.


Jean Kirstein lay sprawled on his bunk, hands behind his head, a contented smile playing on his lips. He stretched luxuriously, savoring the warmth of the sunbeam on his face. "Ah, this is the life," he sighed. "No duties, no training, just kicking back and taking it easy."


At a nearby table, Marco glanced up from polishing his blades, concern etched on his face. "Jean, don't you think you should be preparing? I heard there's going to be an inspection soon, and it sounds serious."


Jean propped himself up on one elbow, eyeing his friend with amusement "Pfft. Give it a rest. At this rate, you'll wear those blades out before you even use them."


On the floor, Reiner and Bertholdt sat cross-legged, hunched over a chessboard. Reiner's face was a mask of concentration, his fingers drumming against the wooden surface as he pondered his next move. He rubbed his eyes, fighting to stay alert. Meanwhile, Bertholdt's gaze kept wandering to the window, his posture tense.


"An inspection?" Bertholdt asked, his voice tinged with anxiety.


Jean sighed, "You too? It's probably nothing. Just enjoy the free time while it lasts. We always have inspections."


Bertholdt shifted uncomfortably, a frown creasing his forehead. "I don't know… I saw extra checkpoints around the city today, and they told us to stay in the barracks..."


Reiner, eyes still glued to the chessboard, slid a piece forward with a soft clink. "Check," he muttered, barely stifling a yawn, clearly more focused on the game than Bertholdt's unease.


Bertholdt's brow furrowed deeper, his voice quieter but no less anxious. "Doesn't this feel off to you? Like they're preparing for something?"


Jean flopped back onto his bunk with a grunt. "You're being paranoid. If you want to worry about it, go ahead. Me? I'm taking a nap. We can't do anything about it, anyway."


Marco's expression turned grave. "Jean, you can't just brush this off. If we're joining the Military Police, we need to take this seriously. We need to demonstrate that we're prepared for the important work ahead of us."


Jean's eyebrows shot up as he let out an incredulous laugh. "Yeah, right. In the interior? Come on, Marco. It's all about living the good life away from all this..." He waved his hand vaguely towards the window, his voice trailing off as he caught a glimpse of Trost's devastation beyond.


Marco persisted, his voice gentle but firm. "It's not about that, Jean. We'll be serving the people, the King, protecting them."


Jean's face flushed, a flicker of shame crossing his features before he masked it with a sardonic smile. "Oh, absolutely. I can't wait to trade in fighting for my life and cleaning up wrecks for guarding the King's morning tea. Sounds like a real upgrade to me."


Marco sighed, shaking his head. "Don't you see? It's a commitment to something greater, keeping our people safe and maintaining order. We can't lose sight of that."


"Sure, that sounds great, especially if it means we're far away from all the chaos out here." His tone shifted, the sarcasm giving way to a more vulnerable note. "But, after everything we've been through, why shouldn't we want that? We've earned this, haven't we?"


Reiner looked up from the chessboard, his expression resolute. "Jean, I understand what you're saying, but Marco's right. Whatever regiment we choose, it shouldn't be to chase what's comfortable or safe. Our duty as soldiers is to protect humanity—that's the oath we took."


He leaned forward, his voice steady but firm. "Those words matter. We didn't train all this time just to let it all go to waste. Every decision we make affects everyone inside these walls. That's the burden we carry, and it's not something you can just walk away from."


Bertholdt's eyes darted nervously between Reiner and the others, a flicker of unease crossing his face. He remained silent, offering only a hesitant nod.


Jean's voice tightened, his frustration barely contained. "Did any of us know what we were signing up for, Reiner? They fed us lines about duty and sacrifice, but they never told us what it would cost. We weren't ready for this—losing friends, seeing people we care about torn apart, eaten... living every day wondering if we're next. We didn't sign up for constant fear, for watching everything we fight for crumble while we pretend to hold it together."


Marco's expression softened. "Jean, what happened here… it hit all of us hard. I can't even imagine how it must feel for you, losing your home like this." He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "I'm terrified too. But hiding from it won't change anything."


Marco's voice grew firmer, his gaze steady as he leaned in. "I know it feels pointless right now. But once we're in the Military Police, we'll be in a position to make real change. Think about it, we know what's at stake better than anyone in the interior. With what we've seen, we could help prevent another Trost, make sure no one has to go through that again. If we don't even try, who will?"


Jean scoffed, but Marco didn't falter.


"Yeah, I'm scared. Facing titans again... it's paralyzing. But we can't run from it. We owe it to ourselves and to everyone we've lost, not just to survive, but to make things better. To protect others from going through what we did."


Jean shook his head, frustration evident in his voice. "You're fooling yourself if you think they'd listen to us, Marco." He turned back toward the window, his posture had slumped, the bravado gone. "You really think anyone in the interior cares about what's happening out here? They just want to keep living their nice, peaceful lives. Who can blame them?"


He fell silent, a shadow crossing his features. "No one joins the Military Police to play hero. They're signing up to survive."


Marco opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a commotion erupted from the streets below. The cadets rushed to the windows, curiosity piqued.


A convoy of wagons rolled down the street, soldiers marching alongside them with grim expressions. They all bore the insignia of the Military Police.


Marco's eyes widened. "That's a lot of MPs... Isn't this overboard for an inspection?"


Bertholdt's face paled slightly, his hands gripping the windowsill.


Even Reiner looked up from the chessboard, a flicker of concern crossing his face before he quickly suppressed it.


Jean frowned, a flicker of concern breaking through. "Alright, I'll admit it... that does looks serious."

---

The small, crowded room felt like a pressure cooker, sealed off from the bustling streets of Trost outside. Slivers of sunlight struggled through a lone, narrow window, casting long shadows across the worn wooden table where the Scout Regiment's leadership had gathered. Muffled sounds of wagon wheels on cobblestone and sharp military commands filtered in.


Commander Erwin sat at the head of the table, his piercing blue eyes surveying the room, by his side Section Commander Miche stood tall. Captain Levi leaned against the wall near the window, his face an impassive mask. Across from Erwin, Hange fidgeted with her glasses, her usual exuberance replaced by an uncharacteristic quietude.


Anja sat near the back, her mind struggling to stay present as a dull ache throbbed behind her eyes. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in as her thoughts drifted between the gruesome sight of the dead Titans and the memory of the birds on her windowsill. She rubbed her temples, trying to shake the feeling.


The Commander's voice pulled her attention back to the present. "Hange, your report."


Hange stood, her hands trembling slightly. Her eyes were rimmed with red. "As you're aware, both our test subjects, Sawney and Beane, were..." Her words faded in and out of Anja's consciousness, like waves lapping at a distant shore. "...killed last night. The method was... precise. Clean cuts to the..."


Anja blinked hard. For a moment, she thought she caught a whiff of fresh grass. Faint laughter seemed to drift from somewhere outside. She shook her head, dazed.


Hange's voice came back into focus, "...avoided detection. It's clear that our suspect has military background."


"How is that possible?" someone asked, the voice sounded distant to Anja's ears, a faint echo.


"Only Scouts had access to the tent. And the area was well-guarded."


Anja's gaze drifted across the room, settling on a scout she didn't recognize. For a fraction of a second, she saw a face achingly familiar. She blinked, and the image shifted, leaving a brown-haired soldier in its place. He was now staring at Anja with a puzzled expression, she muttered a silent apology, quickly averting her eyes.


Suddenly, the voices in the room sharpened, cutting through the haze in Anja's mind.


Erwin held up a hand, silencing the murmurs. "Please, I know how all this sounds. But there's more."


Hange hesitated, eyes scanning her notes before she spoke. "We found a hidden entry point a small hole at the back of the tent, concealed behind equipment and crates. That's likely how the killer got in without being seen."


Anja felt her blood run cold. She gripped the edge of her chair, willing her face to remain neutral as panic threatened to overwhelm her. A sharp pain lanced through her head, causing her to wince.


The room erupted in whispers, the sound swelling like a tide in Anja's ears.

"A traitor?"


"Who?"


"Spies?"​

For a moment, Anja thought she heard birds chirping, a sweet melody that rose above the bustle. She looked around, confused, no one else seemed to notice, that or they were too engrossed to hear.


Had she heard right? Her mind reeled, fragmented thoughts swirling in a storm of panic. The hole in the tent… Her heart pounded. She had made that hole. She never imagined it would matter, never thought it would lead to this. She thought she was the only one who knew.


But then, like a cold blade sinking into her chest, the realization hit her with crushing dread.


No… she wasn't the only one.


Annie's face flashed in her mind, pale with shock and fear as she saw the captured Titans. Her eyes wide, body tense. The anger in her voice as she confronted Anja.


Anja's stomach churned. Her breath caught in her throat.


Could Annie have...?


Anja tried to push the thought away, but it clung to her like a shadow. Doubt gnawed at her insides, twisting tighter with every second. Maybe... someone else had found that hole.


If she spoke up now, they might turn their suspicions on Annie. What would happen to her? What would they do to her?


Anja's pulse raced, panic bubbling up. She had to be certain, had to find out herself before everything spiraled out of control.


Commander Erwin's voice cut through the chaos. "We must consider all possibilities..."


Her head pounded, each thought a hammer blow against her skull. She caught fragments of his words, like pieces of a puzzle she couldn't quite assemble.


"...remain within Trost... investigation... report directly..."


The room swam before her eyes, faces blurring into indistinct shapes. Anja gripped the edge of her chair, anchoring herself to reality as if lost in a labyrinth with no clear exit.


"...dismissed."


Suddenly, the room was in motion. Chairs scraped against the floor, voices murmured in hushed tones. Anja blinked. She stood on shaky legs, her body moving on it's own.


"Private Wolf."


Anja turned, startled to find Commander Erwin standing beside her. His keen blue eyes felt as if they were dissecting her thoughts, and for a heart-stopping moment, she was certain he knew everything.


"Sir?" she managed.


His expression remained neutral, a mask of professional detachment that betrayed nothing. "I wanted to inform you that your schedule for today has been canceled. All your public appearances are postponed until further notice."


Anja nodded, she felt a wave of relief washing over her. Just routine information. Nothing more. But as the tension began to ebb, she noticed a strange glint in the Commander's eyes.


"For now," He continued, his tone casual, "you're to remain in your quarters until the inspection is complete. Standard procedure, you understand."


"Of course, sir," Anja replied, fighting to keep her voice steady. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, certain that he could hear it too.


Erwin's gaze lingered on her face, his brow furrowing slightly. "Is everything alright, Private? You seem distracted."


Anja swallowed hard, forcing a weak smile. "Just feeling a little off, sir. I'll be fine."


The Commander nodded, his expression softening. "I see. Take the time to rest, then." He paused, then added, "That will be all, soldier."


As Anja left the room, she couldn't shake the feeling that Erwin's eyes were still on her. She quickened her pace, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere and the weight of her own suspicions.

---

She slipped into the shadows, hugging the crumbling walls of a ruined building. Her movements were fluid, calculated, as she avoided the patches of harsh sunlight streaming across the streets. She stopped under the cover of a collapsed archway, eyes narrowed as she watched a squad of Military Police march past. The soldiers' faces were tense, their steps brisk and focused. They didn't see her, not even a flicker of awareness in their gaze.


Her fingers grazed the cold metal of the ring on her hand, a weight she rarely carried. Today, though, it was necessary. Something was off, she could feel it.


As she considered her next move, a faint sound broke the stillness, a boot scraping against loose stone. Annie tensed, her body reacting before her mind caught up. In a swift, silent motion, she spun around, her fist arcing through the air, stopping just short of a startled face.


"Whoa!" Sasha yelped, stumbling backward, her eyes wide. "Annie, it's just us!"


Annie's fist hovered in the air for a heartbeat longer before she lowered it, her expression betraying none of the adrenaline still pounding in her veins. Behind Sasha, Ymir leaned against a fractured wall, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, though her watchful eyes never left Annie.


"Jumpy today, aren't we, Leonhart?" Ymir's voice carried its usual teasing edge, but there was a sharpness beneath it.


Annie narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing here?" Her tone was calm, cold.


Ymir shrugged. "Could ask the same thing to you."


The two stood at a silent standstill, tension crackling between them. Sasha, who had been quiet until now, shifted uncomfortably, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her jacket. Clearing her throat awkwardly, she spoke up.


"We were just..." She hesitated, then pushed through. "We were tryin' to get a handle on what's goin' on... When I saw you leave the barracks, we figured we'd follow you and see what we could find out."


Ymir shot Sasha a look of disbelief. Sasha, oblivious to Ymir's reaction, continued.


"They wouldn't let me leave the city this morning. This inspection just don't sit right with me."


Both Annie and Ymir were taken aback by Sasha's candor. Ymir's smirk faltered slightly as she straightened, her attention now on Sasha.


"You tried to leave?" Her tone sharpened, incredulous. "Without permission?" Ymir's expression turned to a half-mocking, half-serious scold. "Trying to add desertion to your resume? You know that's grounds for a court-martial, right?"


Sasha's face flushed. "I wasn't tryin' to leave for long, I just..." She took a deep breath, her voice softening. "I was gonna check on Connie's family. I wanted to make sure they're doin' alright."


Annie glanced back toward the street, feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. The lockdown felt suspicious; keeping everyone inside wasn't standard procedure, much less locking down the entire city. As she watched the soldiers going door to door, it was clear they were searching for something—or someone—but they were grasping at straws.


"What about you?" Ymir's voice cut through Annie's thoughts. "Were you planning on going somewhere, blondie?"


Annie turned slightly. "Here. Same as you." But her words slipped out softer than she intended, not cool and detached, but filled with an involuntary note of longing that she immediately regretted.


Ymir's eyes glinted with something more than mere curiosity. "Well, well, well. Didn't know you had feelings." She leaned in, her voice lowering. "Have someone waiting for you out there?"


Before she could respond, a commotion down the street caught their attention. MPs rushed past, their voices raised in urgency, their footsteps echoing against the cobblestones. The three cadets watched as the soldiers closed off the street, arranging themselves in tense groups.


Annie leaned in, straining to hear the soldiers' conversation. "…swear if we have to get dragged to one of these shitholes again," one soldier grumbled, his voice laced with irritation. "Who are we even looking for this time? Another runaway?"


His companion sighed, the weariness palpable in his tone. "Command didn't give us much to work with. Just keep an eye out for anything suspicious. They want this wrapped up fast."


Annie's posture stiffened imperceptibly. Anything suspicious? They were casting a wide net, anyone could easily be singled out.


"Why is this so important anyway? It's not like we haven't got better things to do." the first soldier replied, his voice dropping, as if wary of being overheard.


"Figures. I just want to get the hell out of here. There could be Titans still lurking..."


"Don't be ridiculous. All the Titans were cleared out weeks ago," the second soldier scoffed, though a hint of doubt crept into his voice.


"A few of our guys stationed here told me they saw something moving behind the ruins at night… something big."


An uncomfortable silence followed, punctuated only by the echoing footsteps of the MPs and the distant clatter of debris shifting in the wind.


"They're just messing with you," the second soldier finally said, though both seemed fidgety, glancing over their shoulders at every sound. Their voices faded as they continued down the street, their steps a little quicker than before.


Ymir, muttered under her breath. "Looking for someone, huh? That narrows it down."


Sasha, her face paling slightly, whispered, "What was that about Titans? We'd've spotted 'em by now, wouldn't we?"


Annie shook her head, striving to keep her tone steady. "It's nothing. Just soldiers letting their imaginations run wild."


Sasha swallowed hard, her confidence faltering. "Right… It can't be possible. Titans don't just sprout up like weeds overnight."


"Don't worry," Ymir chimed in, remarking with a wry smile. "I'm sure the 'Hero of Trost' will scare the Titans away." She paused, her gaze setting on Annie. "Speaking of... Anyone seen red lately? I only see her in posters these days."


Annie's eyes snapped to Ymir, a flicker of something—surprise? concern?—crossing Ymir's face before it vanished.


Sasha hesitated. "I... I caught wind of somethin' about the Scouts meeting earlier. Anja might've been there." She frowned, scratching her head. "Hard to say with the lockdown in place."


For a brief moment, genuine shock washed over Annie's features. She quickly composed herself, but Ymir caught the fleeting expression, a knowing glint in her eye.


"Well," Ymir said, stretching as she stood. "I don't know about you two, but I'm not keen on sticking around here. Better head back before the MPs notice we don't match the decor."


As Sasha began to move, Annie remained rooted, her mind racing with the new information.


What were the Scouts up to? Surely Anja would have mentioned it...


"You coming, Leonhart?" Ymir called back, her tone deceptively casual, but her gaze was keen, as if searching for answers.


Annie frowned slightly, giving one last glance to the street below. "Yes," she replied quietly, falling into step behind them, her fingers brushing against her ring.


Whatever was happening in Trost, whatever the Scouts were planning, Annie knew one thing for certain: she needed to be ready for anything.

---

Anja trudged down the dim corridor towards her quarters, Moblit's footsteps echoing beside her. The air felt thick, almost oppressive, and Anja found herself blinking away the spots dancing at the edges of her vision.


"This will set back our research," Moblit sighed, breaking the silence. "Who knows how long until we capture the next batch of titans..."


Anja nodded absently, her mind elsewhere. "How is Hange taking it?"


"From experience, I can tell you, not well at all. She gets too attached to them..." Moblit's voice lowered. "But don't worry, she'll be back to her old self soon enough... I hope." He added under his breath, "For both our sakes."


They reached Anja's door, and Moblit turned to her, concern etched across his features. "Get some rest and be ready for the inspection. It shouldn't be long now." His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her face. "Are you sure you're alright?"


Anja forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yes, just tired. I'll be fine."


Moblit gave a slow nod, still unconvinced. "Alright. Take care of yourself." With one last lingering glance, he turned and walked away, the sound of his footsteps fading into the corridor.


As the familiar creak of her door echoed in the silence, Anja stepped inside and closed it softly behind her. The room felt stifling, filled with memories that tugged at her mind. She paced back and forth, her thoughts swirling like a storm—the death of the research Titans, the urgent meeting, the impending inspection. Worry and confusion crashed against her, each wave more overwhelming than the last, but one thought kept surfacing, more insistent than the rest.

Annie​

What if someone had seen them near the tent? What if they pinned the blame on Annie? The idea made her stomach twist, but she knew she had to talk to her, had to be sure.


It didn't make sense. That wasn't like her at all. What could she have to gain by killing them? Anja racked her brain for an answer, but the more she thought, the less it added up.


The weight of it all pressed down, memories and doubts blending into a suffocating fog. Her chest tightened, the air in the room thick, choking. She needed space, needed air.


Stumbling to the window, she flung it open and gasped, the cool breeze flooding her lungs, briefly clearing the haze. But as she leaned against the sill, something caught her eye.


Those two birds perched on the ledge.


Their feathers looked dull, ashen. They didn't move, didn't react to her presence. Just sat there, eerily still, their unblinking eyes fixed on nothing.


"Still here?" Anja muttered, her voice barely audible over the pounding in her ears. A prickle of unease wormed its way through her. The birds didn't so much as twitch.


Anja stepped closer, her gaze locking on their eyes, flat, lifeless, as though they were absorbing the light around them. Her breath hitched, confusion twisting into something darker, a sense that things weren't as they should be.


And then, from the silence, a sound, barely there, almost imagined. A haunting melody, like a lullaby, wound with dissonance. The notes were off, warping the air, pulling at her thoughts.


A compulsion tugged at her, irrational but undeniable. The room seemed to tilt. The air thickened with something unsaid, the quiet growing oppressive. She reached out, her fingers trembling, drawn to the birds as if pulled by invisible strings.


The moment her hand brushed the feathers, a screech tore through the air, high and piercing. Pain, sharp, raw, not her own, flooded her senses. Her head snapped back as if struck, the sound burrowing into her skull.


And then…Silence.


The bird crumbled beneath her touch, disintegrating into a fine, ash-like powder, leaving only the hollow shell of what it had been. Anja recoiled, her heart pounding, as the other bird untouched—followed, collapsing silently into the same dark dust. The space around her suddenly felt alien, as though the room itself was watching her.


She stumbled back from the window, frozen, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the last remnants of the birds scattered to the floor. The air was thick, unnervingly still, and the room hummed with an oppressive silence that made her feel she wasn't alone.


Then, without warning, a sound. A sudden, eerie break in the stillness.


Childish laughter echoed faintly, a sound that shouldn't be there, followed by a soft, distant voice calling her name.

"Anja... Anja..."​

Gripping the windowsill for support, Anja leaned out, the room spinning behind her. The voice, the laughter, had to be coming from somewhere. She squinted through her blurred vision, her eyes scanning the street below.


Then she saw him.


A soldier, a rifle slung over his shoulder, walking with a casual stride. Her breath hitched, heart slamming against her chest. Vibrant green eyes, short blond hair, there was no mistaking that face.

Heinrik​

The name echoed in her mind, but it caught in her throat, tangled with disbelief. Her body trembled. He was supposed to be dead. She had buried him in her memories, and yet here he was. Standing. Moving. Alive.


This couldn't be real.


But those eyes… those unmistakable eyes locked with hers for a fleeting moment.


Without thinking, Anja bolted from her room, racing down the stairs two at a time, her dizziness causing her to careen off the walls. She barely felt the impact.


Bursting through the door, Anja stumbled onto the cobblestones. Bright sunlight assaulted her eyes, forcing her to squint against the sudden glare. The crowd before her blurred and shifted, faces melding into an indistinct mass.


"Heinrik!" she called out, her voice weaker than she intended. Pushing forward, she felt clumsy and uncoordinated. "Heinrik, wait!"


People materialized around her, their voices sharp but distant. "Soldier! Get back inside immediately!"


Anja fought against the grip of heavy limbs. "Let me go," she mumbled, words slurring. "I have to... He's here. I saw him."


"Stand down, soldier!" The man's voice echoed strangely in her ears, distorted and far away.


A familiar voice pierced through the haze, faint at first but growing stronger. "Wait! Wait!" Moblit's words seemed to break through the chaos in her mind, his figure finally materializing in her spinning vision.


"...under my supervision... Hero of Trost... not herself..." His voice rose and fell, words slipping in and out of her grasp, like sand through her fingers.


The grip on her arms loosened, and Anja blinked, struggling to focus on the faces surrounding her. Their expressions shifting from suspicion to confusion.


She felt Moblit's hand on her shoulder, steadying her swaying form. "I apologize... not feeling well... escort her back..."


As he began to lead her away, Anja made one last desperate scan of the crowd. The world spun violently, faces and buildings merging into an indistinct blur. She thought she saw a flash of blond hair, a glimmer of green eyes, but it vanished before she could grasp it.


"Heinrik-" The name escaped her lips. The ground rushed up to meet her as darkness claimed her vision.





-


-


-

"AAAAAAAHHH!!


A scream, jagged and raw, tearing through the void.


Burnt flesh—charred, blistering.


A trail of crimson, snaking into impenetrable darkness


Flesh twists, bones crack, a body contorts


"PLEASE, NO MORE!"​

Tik... tik... tik...

BANG BANG BANG—


Shredded muscle. Torn skin.


Gasping. Choking.


A forest crumbles to ash.


Writhing bodies. Skinless. Raw.


Glinting metal. Plunging syringe.​

Tik... tik... tik...

Stone, marred by a slick, dark stain.


Viscous darkness dripping.


A silent scream, reverberating.


"...elp... m..."​

Tik... tik... tik...


Anja's eyes fluttered open, blinking away the haze of sleep. She found herself in an unfamiliar room, wrapped snugly in warm blankets. The crackle of a nearby fireplace and the gentle whistle of a boiling kettle filled the air. Her feet submerged in warm water, yet a bone-deep chill permeated her body.


She frowned slightly, trying to recall how she'd gotten here. Her mind felt strangely fuzzy, the details slipping away like wisps of smoke. She had a nagging sense that she was forgetting something important, but the more she grasped for it, the more it seemed to elude her.


Tik...tik...tik...


Her gaze drifted to the window, seeking the source of the sound. There, perched on the sill, was a bird. Its feathers were so black they seemed to absorb the dim light around it. As if sensing her attention, the bird ceased its pecking and turned to face her. Its head moved in quick, jerky motions, unnatural in their precision.


Its eye, a pinprick of endless darkness, fixed upon her.


She froze, her breath catching in her throat. The bird remained motionless, save for those, twitchy movements of its head.


Time seemed to stretch, the silence broken only by the pounding of Anja's heart.


Suddenly, the door burst open with a bang. Anja jumped, a gasp escaping her lips. Her head whipped towards the sound.


"You're awake, thank god," Moblit's voice cut through her startled state. He rushed to her side, relief evident on his face.


Anja's eyes darted back to the window, but the bird had vanished without a trace. Had it ever been there at all?


Moblit's voice drew her attention back. "How are you feeling? We couldn't get a doctor with the inspection going on."


Anja blinked, taken aback by the intensity of his concern. "I... I'm fine," she said, surprised to find that it was true. Aside from the vague ache in her muscles and the strange sense of unease, she felt oddly rested, her mind clear. "Just a bit groggy. What happened?"


Moblit sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "You collapsed in the street. Don't you remember?"


The memory came back in fragments - a face in the crowd, familiar yet different. "I thought I saw... No, it couldn't have been. It's just... I thought I saw my brother."


Moblit's gaze flickered with unease. "Your brother? Is he serving too? In the Military Police?"


Anja's heart sank. "No, he... He died five years ago." She paused, uncertainty creeping into her voice. "There were similarities, but... It's all blurred together now. I just have this lingering feeling..." She rubbed her temples, trying to shake off the fog in her mind. "Never mind."


"I didn't know... I'm sorry." Moblit's expression softened, but a hint of weariness showed in his eyes. He let out a tired sigh. "Look, Anja, I know you've been under a lot of pressure lately. And I get it, I do. But you need to be more careful. The MPs are looking for any excuse to discredit us. We can't afford slip-ups, especially not now."


Anja she lowered her gaze. "I know. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."


Moblit's tone softened slightly. "Just... If there's anything going on, anything at all, tell me, alright? We need you at your best."


Before Anja could respond, a sharp knock at the door interrupted them. An MP entered, scanning the room quickly.


"All clear," he reported. "Gear checks out."


"Good," came Levi's voice from the hallway, curt and commanding. "You're done here."


The MP nodded and quickly exited, leaving the door ajar.


Captain Levi stepped in, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the scene. Anja, bundled in blankets. Moblit, harried and tense. A beat of silence, heavy with unspoken questions.


"I wasn't aware we were running a spa," Levi said dryly. "Someone care to explain?"

*

*

*

Hey everyone,

First off, I want to say a huge thank you for being such incredible readers and for supporting this story. It means the world to me, and I feel so lucky to have you all along for the ride.

Now, I know it's been long since the last update three months. I get how frustrating that can be when you're invested in a story. I'm really sorry for leaving you hanging like that. Life's been pretty wild lately, and finding time to write or having the mental energy to do it has been a bit of a challenge.

But here's the thing: I'm committed to seeing this story through to the end, no matter what life throws my way. Even if updates take a little longer sometimes, I'll always come back to it.

So, here's the good news: Chapter 20 is almost ready to go! It's about 70% done, and I'm planning to have it up for you by the end of this week(assuming all goes well) or the middle of next week at the latest. And Chapter 21 is in the works too, about 40% done. You'll get more news on its progress when the next chapter is released.

I can't thank you enough for sticking with me and for being so patient and understanding.

You rock

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter XX: Stalking Ground

---

Twilight crept over Trost, casting long shadows across the ruins and bathing the broken cityscape in muted purples and deep blues. In a small clearing amidst the rubble, three young soldiers had carved out a makeshift rest area, if one could call a pile of debris and a scavenged chair restful.

Hitch sprawled in the chair, her messy light brown hair framing a face etched with boredom. Her Military Police jacket hung open, revealing a wrinkled shirt beneath. One boot rested atop a chunk of fallen masonry as she idly picked at her nails.

Nearby, Boris leaned against a partially collapsed wall, his short, ashen blonde hair ruffled by the evening breeze. His eyes scanned the empty streets with a mix of wariness and resignation. Dennis, a lanky young man with close-cropped dark hair, lay flat on his back on a relatively clear patch of ground, staring up at the darkening sky.

"So, anyone know when we're actually getting out of here?" Dennis asked, stifling a yawn.

Boris shrugged. "Think they didn't mention it for a reason. Can't imagine they want us to know how long we'll be stuck here."

Hitch snorted from her perch. "If I'd known I'd be sent to Trost, I would've joined the Garrison. At least they get to sit on top of the walls instead of poking through titan leftovers. Should've counted our blessings when we got to pick our regiments early, huh?"

"Yup, thought we hit the jackpot getting assigned so quickly," Boris said, shaking his head. He shifted uncomfortably against the crumbling wall, his eyes scanning the shadows. "Now look where we are—mucking about in the middle of a giant graveyard. We should be in Stohess, not in this dump of a district."

"It's not that bad," Dennis said, sitting up. "At least we're not dealing with actual titans. Or with those inspections."

Boris leaned back against the crumbling wall, rubbing the back of his neck. "They're a real pain in the ass. Never know what kind of people you'll run into."

Dennis chuckled, shaking his head. "Tell me about it. Some Scout girl lost her mind during the first day of the lockdown a few days ago. She started yelling and fighting us. Made a real scene."

Hitch raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. "Oh yeah? Sounds like typical Scout drama to me. Those guys are always one bad day away from a meltdown."

Dennis smirked, nodding. "Yeah, you're not wrong. Makes you wonder how they stay sane out there."

He paused for a moment, then called out, "Hey, Dreyse, think that idiot is done searching yet?"

A sly smile played across her lips. "Oh, don't be so harsh on our hero. Hmm, don't know. Should be here soon to complain about our lack of dedication."

Boris pushed off from the wall. "It's your turn to check on him, Hitch."

Hitch's eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

"What? I went last time," Boris said, unmoved by her incredulous look.

"Fiiine, I'll go. Such gentlemen, making a lady do all the work."

Dennis grinned, tilting his head slightly. "Just tell him if he's done. I wanna go back already. My delicate constitution isn't built for all this... patrolling."

She made a show of reluctantly getting to her feet. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get too comfortable over there," She gave a mock salute and sauntered off towards a nearby alleyway.

As she wound her way through the rubble-strewn streets, the nonchalance she usually wore so easily began to slip. The ruins around her felt unsettling, almost ghostly. She couldn't help but wonder how many titans had rampaged through this place, how many had flooded the city during the attack on Trost. Hearing about it was one thing; witnessing the aftermath was another.

"Good thing we have that inner wall," she muttered under her breath, glancing around as if the wreckage might suddenly spring to life.

A flicker of movement caught her eye. A small black bird was perched on a crooked signpost, watching her intently with one beady eye. Hitch stared back, wary, before continuing on.

"Marlo!" she called, her voice bouncing off the empty streets. "Where the hell are you?"

She paused, the quiet pressing in around her. Then, from inside a crumbling building came a faint rustling. Against her better judgment, she stepped through the doorframe, the wood creaking under her weight.

"Marl-AAAH!"

Her call turned into a shriek as the black bird from before swooped past her, cawing as it darted out of the building.

"Stupid bird," Hitch grumbled, clutching her chest. Her heartbeat slowly returned to normal until a rancid smell hit her like a slap. She gagged, covering her nose. In the corner, the shriveled remains of several rats lay in a pile, their tiny bodies twisted and dried up.

"Hitch?" Marlo's voice echoed from outside. "You okay?"

He stepped into the doorway, tall and lean, his dark hair slightly tousled, and his grey eyes scanning the room with concern. "What happened?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, waving a dismissive hand. "Just got ambushed by a bird with an attitude problem."

Marlo frowned, but didn't press further. "I think I found the sabotage site," he said, all business, turning to face the street.

"You don't say," Hitch drawled, her tone flat and disinterested. "So, are you finished here or what?"

"No, there's more ground to cover. We need to be thorough."

Hitch groaned and trailed after him. "Right, well, just make it quick. Some of us have important napping to catch up on."

As they walked, Marlo glanced over at her. "Where are the others?"

"Hmm?" Hitch replied absently. "Oh, just sweeping another area. Veeeery diligently."

Marlo shook his head slightly.

Hitch caught up to him, a teasing smirk curving her lips. "So, you dragged me out here just to get me alone, huh? How smooth."

Marlo's face flushed crimson. "What? No! I—Look, I know we're just supposed to be patrolling, but something doesn't add up. Why haven't the inspections turned up anything?"

Hitch couldn't quite hide the amusement in her gaze. "Maybe they're hoping we'll get bored and call it quits."

Marlo's jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as he scanned the empty, crumbling streets. "We're chasing ghosts." he muttered.

Hitch sighed, nudging a piece of rubble with her boot. "Yeah, well, I could've told you that. This whole patrolling thing feels like a joke."

Marlo snapped, frustration boiling over. "Think about it—no one's been able to get in or out of the city since the attack without permission. Now every gate's locked down tighter than ever." He turned to her. "Whoever did this is still here. Somewhere."

Leaning against a half-toppled pillar, Hitch raised an eyebrow. "And you think you're going to crack the case everyone else missed? I know you've got that righteous streak, Marlo, but is this about 'doing the job' or are you hoping to score points with the higher-ups?"

Marlo reddened a bit. "I just think it's worth a shot," he said, his voice low as he stared down the empty road, as if it held all the answers. "If there's something everyone else overlooked, we might be the ones to find it. Besides, it's what we're supposed to do."

Well, this should be entertaining, at least. And hey, watching Marlo squirm is always fun. "Alright, hero," she smirked. "Lead the way."

---

The area was like a wound in the city's fabric – a clearing surrounded by ruined buildings, most reduced to little more than piles of debris. Hitch's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the desolate scene. So this is where the Scouts set up their mysterious tent.

"This is it…" Marlo murmured, crouching to examine the ground. "What do you think they were doing here?"

Hitch shrugged, crossing her arms. "No idea, but they sure picked an isolated spot." Her eyes traced the countless boot prints in the dirt, evidence of the many soldiers who had already combed the area. "I'm sure people have gone over this place a hundred times. We're probably just wasting our time."

Marlo crouched lower, his brow furrowing. "Take a look at this."

She knelt beside him, following his gaze to a series of small, dark droplets on the ground. "Is that... ink?"

"It's fresh…" Marlo muttered, his eyes scanning the area with newfound intensity.

Marlo began following the trail, his movements precise and focused. Hitch trailed behind, her heart rate quickening despite her attempts at nonchalance. The bootprints stopped abruptly where the dirt gave way to stone slabs in what must have once been a courtyard.

A pungent odor assaulted Hitch's nostrils. She wrinkled her nose, watching as Marlo zeroed in on a section of paving stones near a partially collapsed building. One of the stones was smeared with that dark, inky fluid.

"Dead end?" Hitch asked, hope mingling with disappointment in her voice. "Great, we can go back now and tell everyone we found some spilled ink. They'll be thrilled."

Marlo shook his head, pointing to the dark stain. In the fading light, it almost looked like... "Is that a handprint?" Hitch whispered, her usual confidence deserting her.

The substance was thick and tarry, forming a murky outline against the stone.

Marlo leaned in, hand outstretched as if to touch it.

"Seriously? Don't touch that!" Hitch hissed, grabbing his wrist. "What are you, five?"

"Shhh!" Marlo whispered. "Keep it down. We don't know if there's someone else around."

Hitch rolled her eyes, forcing levity into her voice to mask her growing unease. "There's no one else around here. Unless you count the rats. And maybe whatever died to make that smell."

As if in response to her words, a hollow sound echoed beneath their feet as Marlo shifted his weight. His eyes widened, without wasting a minute he began prying at the stones with his knife.

"Oh no," Hitch groaned. "Stop that, don't even think about—" She watched in dismay as Marlo pulled out stone after stone, stacking them nearby. Soon, a yawning darkness was revealed below, the pungent smell intensifying. Marlo peered down into the gloom, then looked back at Hitch with an all-too-familiar glint in his eye.

Hitch threw up her hands. "Absolutely not. No way. We are not going down there. You hear me? Not happening!"

---

Hours later, Hitch found herself wondering how, exactly, she'd ended up in this situation.

Night had fallen, and all four members of their team – herself, Marlo, Boris, and Dennis – were gathered around the ominous opening. A rope dangled into the abyss, and Marlo was finishing his preparations to descend, a lantern tied securely to his waist.

"Can't believe he talked you into this," Hitch muttered, shooting daggers at both Boris and Dennis.

Boris shrugged, a hint of amusement in his voice. "What can I say? He made a good point. If we find something down there, best case, we earn a promotion or at the very least, we get to escape this hellhole."

"And if it goes sideways?"

Dennis smirked, jerking a thumb toward Marlo. "We'll just blame him."

Marlo, still busy testing the strength of the rope, didn't even react, too focused on the task ahead.

Hitch huffed, a mixture of exasperation and something that felt dangerously like concern bubbling in her chest. "Screw this," she growled under her breath, grabbing a lantern of her own. "I'm going down there too. Someone's got to make sure he doesn't get himself killed."

As Hitch descended into the darkness, following Marlo's faint lantern light, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd lost her mind. The stench hit her like a physical force. Even with her nose covered, the foulness seeped through, making her eyes water and stomach churn.

The tunnel stretched before them, a maw of crumbling stone and stagnant water. Parts of the ceiling sagged ominously, and every step felt like a gamble. They clung to the sides, avoiding the murky water that lurked in the center.

"This place looks like a sewer," Marlo muttered, glancing around. "Probably collapsed during the Titan attack…"

"Oh great," Hitch replied, "so we're not just in a sewer, we're in a collapsing sewer. This keeps getting better and better."

Cautiously moving forward, they noticed an inky substance smeared across the walls, dripping like thick sludge from cracks in the stone. With each step, the air grew heavier, pressing down on them in a thick, suffocating weight.

A skittering noise echoed ahead, sending a jolt through Hitch. She stifled a scream as Marlo's hand gripped hers, too tightly to be just for balance. Her pulse quickened. What was that?

"Everything alright down there?" Dennis's shout came from above, his voice unnervingly distant in the confined space.

"Just peachy!" Hitch called back. "We're having a wonderful time in this deathtrap, thanks for asking!"

"We're fine," Marlo called up. "Just... keep an eye out up there, okay?"

They pressed on, the oppressive darkness broken only by the weak glow of their lanterns. Hitch found herself jumping at every shadow, every drip of water. This is insane, she thought. We should go back. We should—

Her thoughts were interrupted as they rounded a corner, the weak light of their lanterns now barely penetrating the gloom. Suddenly, Marlo froze, his grip on Hitch's hand becoming painfully tight.

"What is it?" she whispered, peering around him. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in horror.

---

Smoke curled from Captain Elias Brandt's cigarette as his carriage rolled to a stop before the cordoned-off ruins. He checked his silver pocket watch, before stepping out, his polished boots crunching on broken stone. The journey from Stohess had been long, but duty called. Thin fingers smoothed his blonde mustache as he surveyed the perimeter. The site was barely a block from where the killings had occurred, right under their noses all this time.

The acrid smoke from his cigarette barely masked the putrid stench rising from the exposed sewer entrance. The rookies who had stumbled onto this mess hovered nearby, shifting nervously, but he paid them little mind.

Brandt's spine stiffened the moment he spotted movement—two figures in Military Police uniforms, their boots crunching on the cracked pavement as they emerged from the shadows of the investigation site. His breath hitched. The distinctive patches of the First Interior Squad gleamed on their uniforms, like a threat sewn into the fabric.

The taller one, dark-haired with steel-grey eyes, passed him without a glance, as if Brandt were nothing more than a discarded piece of debris. His companion, shorter but no less imposing, followed close behind. Brandt stood there, frozen, watching them walk past as though he'd been turned to stone.

Without realizing it, the cigarette had burned down to his fingers. The sharp sting snapped him back, and he jerked his hand, crushing the half-finished cigarette under his heel. His fingers trembled as he reached for his pocket watch.

What was the Interior Squad doing at his crime scene? He was here under Commander Dawk's direct orders.

Shaking off the distraction, he directed his attention to the creaking ladder leading into the murky depths below. Each rung pulled him deeper into a miasma of decay and stagnant sewer water.

The flickering light from oil lamps illuminated the area, Military Police soldiers milled about, securing the perimeter. Tarps had been strategically placed, obscuring sections of the tunnel. Yet, there were others present, members of the Garrison Regiment, working on what appeared to be a bewildering array of wooden supports along the walls.

"What are these people doing here?" Brandt demanded. "This is a classified Military Police investigation."

"We're here because if we weren't, you'd be conducting your precious investigation under a pile of rubble."

A tall, broad-shouldered man with white hair and beard stepped forward, pale amber eyes regarding Brandt coolly.

"Captain Albert Weiss," the man introduced himself, his tone clipped and devoid of any false politeness. "Your superiors requested our assistance when it became clear these tunnels were about to come down on your heads."

Brandt's jaw clenched. "And are you finished?"

"Unless you want to risk being buried alive, no. These old sewers are like a rotten tooth after the titan attack. One wrong move and the whole thing could bring down half the district above."

"Fine. Just keep your people away from our investigation."

Weiss's expression remained impassive, but a hint of irritation flashed in his eyes. "Respectfully, I don't give a damn about your investigation. Don't bother us, and we won't bother you. Simple as that."

Brandt's lip curled into a dismissive smirk. "I'll keep that in mind," he replied with a condescending air, turning on his heel. Without giving them another thought, he strode toward the tarp-covered entrance.

Sergeant Hauser waited by it, looking slightly green around the gills. Beyond the heavy fabric, the chamber opened before them, the south wall roughly carved out to expand the original tunnel. Crates stood stacked, making a makeshift wall, while a table in the center displayed the evidence laid out for inspection.

"Sir," Hauser gestured toward a dark mass hanging from the ceiling like some nightmarish stalactite. Black viscous liquid still dripped from its torn surface. "We extracted a corpse from inside about an hour ago."

The body lay nearby in an open bag. Brandt approached, studying what remained. His eyes narrowed. After fifteen years in the Military Police, he had seen his share of horrors, but this... this felt different. These remains appeared ancient, desiccated, more skeleton than flesh. The surface was riddled with holes, as if it had endured some unseen torment.

"Cause of death?"

"Uncertain, sir..." Hauser shifted uncomfortably. "Could be the work of a titan, the structure somewhat resembles titan vomit. But the state of the corpse... we've never seen anything like it."

Brandt frowned. A titan down here? The tunnel was barely holding together as it was… "We need an expert opinion on that... structure."

"We could ask someone from the Scouts—"

"No." The word came out sharper than intended. But after a moment's consideration, Brandt grimaced. "Fine. One expert. They examine that… thing only. Nothing else."

Hauser led him to the makeshift evidence table. A Scout Regiment jacket lay there, scraped and dirty but surprisingly intact. Beside it, fragments of ODM gear twisted beyond recognition, several broken blades, and a cadet corps jacket. Within its folds, a bloodstained napkin bearing the initials "N.T."

"The corpse was wearing the cadet jacket," Hauser said, pointing to the napkin. "This was in the pocket."

"Any progress identifying 'N.T.'?"

"Not yet, sir. We're cross-referencing with both recent casualties and historical records..."

Brandt lifted the Scout jacket, turning it over in his hands. Convenient—perhaps too convenient, something about it still nagged at him, even though he couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Where was this found?"

"By those crates, along with the ODM gear. The gear's serial numbers don't match anything distributed in Trost."

Brandt frowned, rubbing his thumb over the rough fabric. As he did, he felt something prick his finger, a small pine needle caught in one of the scraps. He glanced at it briefly, "Run the serials again. And check if they've been logged in any of the older archives."

He turned his attention back to the sewer entrance. "What about the tunnels?"

"Dead end now. Collapsed about thirty meters ahead. But according to the Garrison, they branch throughout the city. Some might even extend beyond the walls."

Brandt ran his fingers along the rough-hewn wall. Whoever had done this had taken their time. But they'd left evidence behind – intentionally? Or had something gone wrong?

Had the killer sealed their own escape route? Or was there more buried deeper, beneath the rubble, waiting to be uncovered?

"Explore every inch of these tunnels," Brandt ordered, keeping his voice low. "Document everything. But keep the Garrison out of it. They don't need to know what we're looking for."

As his team dispersed, Brandt's gaze returned to the cocoon. The putrid smell turned his stomach, but he couldn't look away. Captain Weiss caught his eye from across the chamber, expression unreadable. His fingers tightened around his pocket watch. That corpse and its strange cocoon were mysteries for another day.

In the dim light, the silver surface of the watch caught the dripping black liquid from above, distorting his reflection. The Scout jacket, the broken ODM gear with its mismatched serial numbers, the extensive sewer network, each piece made sense on its own, yet together they painted a picture he couldn't quite grasp, as if he were looking at a reflection in broken glass.

The afternoon bell tolled somewhere above, muffled by layers of stone and earth.

Someone was walking the streets of Trost right now, hidden in plain sight. Someone who knew these sewers intimately, who could move through the city undetected, walking among civilians and soldiers alike.

Brandt's fingers closed around the pine needle he'd found in the jacket's fabric. Such a small detail, it nagged at him like a splinter under skin. No pine trees grew within Trost's walls. Their killer wasn't just infiltrating the city they were moving freely beyond it.

---

For the first time in what felt like forever, Anja woke naturally. No nightmares, no screams—just the soft warmth of the morning sun streaming in, dust motes drifting lazily in the golden light. The stillness felt almost unnatural after so many weeks of chaos.

She lay there still, savoring the unfamiliar peace of feeling truly rested. Her mind felt unusually clear, like a slate wiped clean. Outside, soldiers moved through the streets below, their stances relaxed, so different from the rigid patrols of the lockdown that had only ended yesterday. Some stopped to chat with civilians, a rare, unhurried calm settling over the district. A small smile crept across her face.

Fragments of a dream lingered, just out of reach something about her brother, about home. The warmth of it comforted her, though the details had slipped away.

Tomorrow was the regiment selection ceremony. After a long month, she'd finally see her friends again, maybe even talk to Mikasa and Armin. And Eren... The thought lingered a moment longer than the others. For once, she actually had good news to share. Her smile widened at the thought.

The headaches that had plagued her just five days ago were gone, and even the memories of Trost felt softer, less jagged. She felt... lighter. Ready for whatever came next.

As she dressed, Anja caught her reflection in the small mirror above her washbasin. The dark circles under her eyes had faded, and there was color in her cheeks again. Her fingers brushed against her brother's pendant as she slipped into her uniform jacket.

The floorboards creaked softly under her feet as she descended the stairs to the common room. The murmur of low voices fell silent. Levi sat at the far table, steam rising from a teacup before him, his green cloak draped neatly over the back of the chair, ODM gear secured like he was ready for deployment. Across from him, Hange leaned back in her chair, her usual energetic demeanor strangely muted.

"Captain?" Anja straightened, pleasantly surprised. "I didn't expect to see you here. How's Eren doing?"

Levi set down his cup. "You can ask him yourself. We're going to see him."

Her heart leapt. "Really? I'll grab my equipment—"

"Forget your gear," Levi interjected, rising smoothly from his seat. "You won't need it. Meet me at the outer gate in ten minutes."

Hange glanced up, offering a faint smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. But Anja barely noticed, her mind already racing ahead to seeing Eren again.

"Sure thing!" she answered cheerfully, practically bouncing back up the stairs to fetch her boots. Behind her, Levi's footsteps receded, the front door closing with a soft click.

She touched the pendant one last time, humming quietly to herself. Everything felt right for once.

---

Shadows stretched longer across Trost's streets by the time they passed through the outer gate. The guards straightened at their approach, one offering a small wave, a face she recognized from her speech last week, though the memory felt strangely distant, like looking through clouded glass.

"Nice to see morale improving," she said, adjusting her stride to match Levi's shorter but steady pace. Her uniform felt comfortably familiar as they walked. "For a while there, I thought the speeches weren't helping at all."

"Tch... People will believe whatever story makes them feel safe."

A wagon rattled past, soldiers in Garrison uniforms offering crisp salutes to Levi before their faces brightened with recognition at the sight of Anja. One carried a little girl on his shoulders, her laughter floating back to them on the morning breeze. Something tugged at Anja's memory—Heinrik carrying her through Shiganshina's market square, weaving between stalls and crowds. The memory felt warm but fragile.

They followed the main road past the refugee settlements. Fields stretched out on either side, dotted with people working the stubborn earth. Their tools scraped against the resistant soil, the sound carrying across the quiet expanse. The steady rhythm of Levi's ODM gear punctuated their steps.

"It's pointless," she murmured, more to herself than Levi.

Levi glanced at her.

"Nothing really grows out here," she continued, gesturing at the sparse grass. Her fingers brushed the pendant unconsciously. "We tried when we first came to Trost, after... after everything. They had us working these fields from dawn till dusk, but not even the weeds would take." She chuckled softly, the sound falling flat in the empty air. "We used to say the land was like Eren, too stubborn for its own good."

"That when you started stealing?" Levi's tone remained neutral, almost disinterested.

"It doesn't make me proud, but you only had three choices..." Her hand tightened into a fist at her side. "Work for scraps, starve, or join the military."

"Must've known the city well by then," Levi observed casually. "All those back alleys."

"Had to. The Military Police weren't exactly fond of refugees." She smiled faintly at the memory. "Especially the ones who kept slipping away."

They veered onto a narrower trail, leaving the busier road behind. Without her gear, Anja felt light, almost bouncy. Behind them, Trost's walls had shrunk to a grey line on the horizon.

"How much further until we reach Eren?" she asked.

"Getting tired already?"

"No, just..." She looked around, suddenly aware of how quiet it had become. No birds, no wind. Just the crunch of their boots on gravel and the metallic song of Levi's gear. "Where are we going exactly?"

"Somewhere quiet. Away from prying eyes." Levi's gaze swept the horizon. "You know, your brother liked these paths. Said they reminded him of hunting trails back home."

The mention caught her off-guard. A gust of wind whipped her cloak around her legs, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and damp earth. Her right eye twinged, and her fingers grazed the edge of her cloak, seeking a familiar grounding. The motion sparked something—a half-remembered moment from five days ago, slipping away like water...

"Captain..." She hesitated, "What was my brother like? As a soldier?"

Levi's steps didn't falter. "Why?"

"I just..." She slowed her pace, her gaze drifting to the ground. "I've been thinking about him more lately. Since that day in the street, when I thought I saw—" She stopped, frowning. What had she seen?

"Have you now?" Something in his tone made her look at him more closely, but his expression revealed nothing.

The road began to slope downward, the terrain growing rougher. Their boots scuffed against loose gravel and brittle grass, the sound sharp in the summer stillness.

"He was a skilled soldier," Levi said finally, each word measured. "But unpredictable. In combat, especially. Like something else would take over." He paused, glancing ahead as they continued down the path. "The kind that could keep fighting long after others would've fallen. Saw him take down three titans once, even with a broken arm."

Anja's breath caught. Her right eye throbbed, a dull pulse that seemed to echo in her skull.

"Not unlike some reports I've read recently," he added, almost to himself.

A cloud passed over the sun. The path had led them into a hollow, old trees casting long shadows across their way. Their branches reached overhead like grasping fingers, and Anja could have sworn they moved even though there was no wind.

"Ever been out this way before?" Levi asked, his tone deceptively light. "During your refugee days?"

"No," she answered, then frowned. "I never went this far from the walls. No reason to."

The path ahead split in two. Levi chose the darker route without hesitation, leading them into a copse of dead trees. A crow called somewhere in the distance the first sound of wildlife they'd heard in a while. The trail had narrowed, forcing Anja to walk slightly behind Levi. The metal of his gear caught the weak sunlight, flashing like signal mirrors.

"Captain," she started, uncertainty creeping into her voice as her eye throbbed again. "Are you sure this is the right—"

"Something wrong with your eye?"

"No, it's nothing." She forced her hand down, not realizing she'd raised it. "About Eren..."

"Wondering where we're keeping him?" Levi's tone remained casual, almost conversational. He turned slightly, studying her with that unreadable gaze. "There's a farmhouse ahead. Not far now."

The path widened slightly as they emerged from the copse. A weathered building stood alone in the distance, its wooden walls grey with age, backed by a small cliff that rose sharply behind it. Fields of dead crops surrounded the structure, the stalks bent and withered, while patches of grass swayed gently in the breeze, and old fences lined the perimeter, creaking softly in the wind.

A glint of metal caught her eye – probably just a weather vane catching the sun. She blinked and it was gone.

"Eren's been staying there?" she asked.

"Among others." Levi's boots thudded steadily against the dirt, the sound unnaturally loud in the oppressive stillness. "Good spot. Clear lines of sight. Defensible position." He paused, his gaze sweeping the landscape. "If it needed to be."

The casual observation made Anja look at the landscape with new eyes. The rolling hills around them, perfect for concealment. The cliff face behind the house, preventing escape in that direction. The open field offering no cover...

"Terrain matters," Levi said. "Especially when you're outnumbered."

Something in his tone made Anja's skin prickle. Her eyes darted to the hills again.

"Like that incident during your training." Levi's tone never changed, but the air around him seemed to grow colder. "Your instructor's report was... vivid. About what they found in that forest."

Anja's world tilted. The memories, once hazy and fragmented, now surged to the surface with sickening clarity. She could smell the musky scent of the slavers' sweat. Their leering faces swam before her, lips curled in cruel smiles.

And then, the blood. The screams. The savage, animalistic joy of tearing into soft flesh, of painting the forest floor crimson. It was all so real, so visceral.

"Butchery," he continued. "They had to identify the bodies by their teeth." He turned his head, fixing her with a stare that seemed to strip her soul bare. "Rage can turn even the most civilized person into a beast."

Anja's right eye pulsed with agony, the pain intertwining with the vivid flashes of memory. She could feel the blood dripping down her face, taste the coppery tang on her tongue. The shadows lengthened, twisting into the shapes of the mangled bodies she'd left behind.

"Tell me," Levi's voice cut through the haze like a razor. "Did it feel the same during the battle of Trost?" He paused, letting the words sink in. "Funny how the past has a way of catching up with you."

And suddenly, she was there again. The city in chaos, Titans looming over her like grotesque giants. The fury, the bloodlust…

"Curious thing about that day," he continued, each word falling like stones in still water. "Every casualty was accounted for. Even the ones they could barely identify." His steps never faltered. "Except one."

Nac. The name reverberated in her skull, an accusation and a condemnation all in one.

They were close enough now to see the farmhouse's details. The door hung slightly ajar. The windows were dark, watchful. More glints of metal from the hills now – unmistakable this time.

"But you wouldn't know anything about that," Levi said softly. "Would you, Anja?"



/

/

/

Note: Hey everyone! Thanks for reading and sorry for the slight delay. Took me longer than I thought to get right, but I hope the wait was worth it.

Quick heads up: I'm about halfway through Chapter 21 at the moment. At this pace, you can expect it next week. I want to make sure everything flows nicely, especially after the events that just unfolded. Thank you all for your patience and for continuing to follow Anja's story. Your support means a lot! See you next week!

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter XXI: The Voice Inside

---

Thunder cracked overhead as realization hit Anja like ice water. The glints of metal she'd spotted weren't weather vanes—rifle barrels caught the dying light, arranged in a perfect circle around the farmhouse clearing. Scouts emerged from their positions, weapons trained, moving with practiced precision.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. "Captain, what is—" The words died in her throat as she took in the full scope of the ambush. Part of her wanted to protest, to deny—

"Don't move." Levi's voice carried that same casual tone, but his stance had shifted subtly. Ready. Waiting. Her brother's pendant felt heavy against her chest—what would Heinrik think of what she'd become?

More movement caught her eye—figures on the farmhouse roof, the cliff face behind it. Her mind raced, calculating distances, searching for gaps. There had to be a way out, had to be—

"Last chance," Levi said quietly. "We can do this the easy way."

A crow landed on the farmhouse roof, then another. Their black eyes watched, unblinking. The pendant felt heavy against her chest as her breathing quickened. "I don't understand..." But even as she said it, fragments surfaced—blood on stone floors, Nac's terrified eyes, that crimson fog that always came before—

"I think you do."

Something primal took over—not rage this time, but pure survival instinct. She bolted.

A warning shot cracked past her ear. She pivoted, changing direction as more shots kicked up dirt at her feet. But they weren't trying to hit her, she realized too late. They were herding her toward the center.

Something whistled through the air above. She looked up just as heavy weights crashed down around her, steel cables snapping taut. The net drove her to her knees, the metal biting into her skin. It should hurt more, she thought distantly. After everything she'd done, it should hurt more.

More crows settled on the farmhouse roof, their wings dark against the storm-heavy sky. Through the steel mesh, she saw Levi approach, unhurried. Behind him, scouts moved in, rifles aimed with deadly precision.

"Bring the restraints," Levi called, never taking his eyes off her. "And someone get Hange. Tell her we're ready to begin."

Anja struggled against the net, panic rising not from being trapped, but from the memories that wouldn't stop now. The blood, the screams, that terrible joy she'd felt while— Movement behind her. A shadow fell across her face.

The last thing she saw before the rifle butt struck was those birds, watching. Always watching.

---

Evening shadows lengthened across Trost's central plaza as Annie made her way through the growing crowd. The storm that had threatened all day was finally rolling in. Military Police patrols moved through the edges of the square, their presence a reminder of the recently lifted lockdown.

She adjusted her jacket, fingers finding the creases where the Military Police insignia would soon rest. Her hand brushed against the ring on her finger—a reminder of a promise that couldn't be broken.

The certainty she'd carried for so long felt fractured like ice cracking beneath her feet.

The streets filled with graduates, their faces bright with conviction. Annie watched them file past. How easily they divided the world—humanity against monsters, good against evil. She'd seen it before, worn those masks herself. In the end, beneath all the lies they told themselves, everyone was just human. Just trying to survive.

Like that day in Trost's back alleys, years ago. When a lost girl found her, both of them were broken by the same walls. It felt simpler then, just two refugees seeking shelter from the rain.

She'd never been one to mistake survival for righteousness. The world was cruel enough without adding illusions to it. And yet here they all were, gathering like moths to flame, drawn by promises of glory and purpose. Their eager faces reflected in the rain-slicked stone, all of them so certain of their path forward.

The crowd pressed forward, and her steps faltered at the entrance to the central plaza. A life-sized poster dominated the stone archway—Anja standing proud in a green cloak, arm raised in a gesture of defiance against 'humanity's enemies'. Annie's throat tightened. The evening light cast strange shadows across the paper, making that printed smile seem hollow, and accusing. Like it knew.

She couldn't forget that warmth in her eyes last she saw her, the disappointment in that alley as Annie turned away. She hadn't found her since. Maybe it was for the best.

"I'm sorry..." The words escaped her in barely a whisper. Sentiment was a luxury she couldn't afford. Not with how close they were to—

"Here to see her?" Armin's voice was quiet beside her. She hadn't heard him approach—sloppy.

Annie kept her gaze forward. "Just passing through."

He moved to stand beside her, careful to maintain distance. Always so careful, this one. They watched graduates file past, their faces reflecting hope and certainty in equal measure.

"The Military Police ceremony must be starting soon." Armin studied her face with that careful attention she'd grown to recognize. "Though I thought... well, you might want to say goodbye properly. After all these years training together..."

The word 'goodbye' settled between them like a weight. Annie's silence stretched a beat too long.

"You should join us," Armin offered, gesturing toward the crowd. "Find a good spot before it gets worse."

They moved through the press of bodies, the air thick with anticipation and evening mist. Excited chatter filled the plaza—snippets of conversation about the Scouts, about glory, about Anja's speeches in the refugee settlements. How she'd fought in Trost, how she understood their struggles. Annie listened, keeping her face carefully blank.

"She really reached them, didn't she?" Armin's voice was thoughtful. "Especially the ones from Wall Maria. I guess they all saw something of themselves in her."

The crowd shifted, forcing them closer together. A few files ahead, Bertholdt turned, catching her eye. He offered a slight nod before facing forward again. Reiner stood beside him, shoulders squared, ready for whatever came next. Just like always. A reminder of what she was here for, a promise that couldn't be broken.

The stage remained empty save for a few scouts standing guard at its edges. More whispers rippled through the crowd. Where was she? Shouldn't she be here by now? Annie found herself craning her neck slightly, searching despite herself. Her fingers twisted the ring unconsciously.

The first drops of rain began to fall, striking the upturned faces of the crowd. A cool breeze carried the scent of coming storm.

"You know," Armin said quietly, watching her scan the stage again, "everyone always said you were cold, distant." A soft smile crossed his face as Annie's eyes darted away. "But I've seen differently. You're not as detached as you want people to believe." He paused, noting how her shoulders tensed slightly. "You care about her, don't you?"

Thunder rumbled in the distance. The rain fell harder now, drumming against stone and wood, against faces turned skyward in anticipation of someone who wouldn't come.

---

Drip. Drip. Drip.​

The sound echoed through old wooden beams, finding its way into the converted barn where Anja knelt. Her legs had long since gone numb against the cold stone floor, the iron collar pressing against her throat with each shallow breath. Her hands, bound behind her back with rusted restraints, had lost all feeling hours ago.

She couldn't see anything in that absolute darkness. Couldn't tell if her eyes were open or closed. But she could smell the musty air, taste the metallic tang that might have been blood from her split lip or something worse. The taste, the scent...

Blood.

Her right eye pulsed with sudden, stabbing pain. She gasped, trying to steady herself against the wave of agony. Images flooded in, warm and dark, real and impossible:

Standing in morning mist, so small her head barely reached her mother's hip. The green cloak settling on Heinrik's shoulders, wings of freedom catching dawn light— but the memory twisted, became hands crushing a throat, blood flooding her mouth, such terrible joy—Heinrik's smile trying to be brave, Mother's hand trembling in hers— but now she was running through ancient woods, pursuing somethingt, steam rising from its footprints.​

The pain intensified, memories bleeding into each other:

Darkness. Cold stone. Bodies huddled in filth, collared like animals. The whimpers echoing off wet walls— shifting to tall trees stretching endlessly upward, dappled sunlight, the weight of fresh prey on small shoulders— then suddenly the slaver's flesh giving way beneath her fingers, their screams mixing with a baby's distant laugh from that cabin in the clearing, smoke rising from its chimney like the steam from fallen Titans.​

"No," she whispered, but the darkness swallowed her protest. The fragments came faster now, each as real as the last. Past and present, joy and horror, memory and nightmare—all of it twisting together into something she couldn't escape:

Mother mending clothes by candlelight— but the needle became a blade plunging into flesh, blood spraying across trees— then Heinrik teaching her to spar in the shadow of an old tree— but the wooden sword turned red with gore as more throats opened beneath her hands.​

The pain in her eye receded for a moment, leaving her gasping in the dark. What was happening to her? These memories... they all felt real, all carried the same weight, the same intensity. Whether tender or terrible, they burned with equal truth.

Pain lanced through her skull like white-hot needles. Static crackled across her vision as Trost surged forward, unavoidable now:

The crimson fog thick in her mind. Nac dragging himself across tiles, leaving a trail of blood— but overlaid with a child's small hands clutching a rusted collar, the smell of unwashed flesh and despair— then that path winding toward the cabin, a voice calling welcome— but it was Nac's voice now, recognition turning to terror as she—​

She retched, the collar biting into her throat. "Monster," she whispered into the darkness, the word tasting like bile and truth.

The pain exploded behind her eye, and everything crashed together:

Trees blur past. Blood pouring. Arm gone. Titans behind. Always behind. Kill. Run. Kill. Then—fire.​

Her whole body convulsed against the restraints. The memory consumed her:

Burning. Can't move. Can't escape. Flesh melting. Bones charring. But something else too—dark wings above. A voice in the flames, speaking words she almost understood...​

Blood covered half her vision now, her right eye a mass of pure agony. Her screams echoed off the stone walls, mixing with remembered screams, with the sound of flesh burning, with the beating of countless wings.

Thunder cracked overhead. The door burst open, spilling light into her prison. Through the haze of blood and pain, she glimpsed a silhouette framed in lightning.

---

The rain traced cold paths down Annie's neck as she searched the empty stage, thunder rumbling in the distance like a warning. Around her, the crowd shifted restlessly, their murmurs mixing with the steady drumming of water against stone. She felt Armin's presence beside her, too observant by half.

"She talked about you, you know," he said quietly, eyes distant as if recalling memories. "But she always kept things close to her chest, especially when it came to you."

ᛟ​

Down narrow stairs, each step echoing against damp stone, Levi descended into darkness. Old hooks hung from the ceiling, their shadows stretching like crooked fingers across moldering walls. The air grew thicker with each step, heavy with the scent of rust and decay.

ᛈ​

Armin continued, his voice barely carrying over the rain. "But I watched sometimes—the way she'd come back day after day, covered in bruises, never a word of complaint." Rain dripped from his bangs as he studied Annie's profile. "Others called you cruel, said you enjoyed hurting her. She'd get so angry at those whispers, but she never explained why."

ᛖ​

The sound of ragged breathing punctuated by soft rattling chains grew clearer. In the chamber below, Anja knelt in the center, wrists and neck bound with iron, head bowed. Blood had dried in dark streaks down her cheek, black in the dim light.

"So..." Levi's voice cut through the darkness as he moved to stand before her. "Ready to start talking?"

ᚾ​

A murder of crows settled on the plaza's empty stage, their gleaming eyes fixed on the scene below. Thunder rolled, and the rain fell harder.

ᛁ​

Silence stretched between Levi and his prisoner, broken only by the steady drip of water and the rattle of chains. Then, barely a whisper: "I remember."

ᛟ​

Armin's voice softened, almost contemplative, though Annie noticed how carefully he watched her reaction. "It took me a while to understand. The way she'd seek you out, despite everything... she must have seen something in you worth all that pain. Something worth believing in."

ᚢ​

"Tell me," Levi commanded in the darkness below. His boots scraped against stone as he circled his prisoner.

ᚱ​

Her fingers found her ring, twisting it once, then again. "Trust like that..." Annie's words caught in her throat, heavy with things she could never say. "It only leads to disappointment."

ᛖ​

"I killed them... killed him." Anja's voice cracked. "I killed Nac."

ᛁ​

Thunder rolled overhead as Annie's voice dropped lower, almost lost in the rain. "It doesn't matter anymore."

ᛖ​

"We know that." Levi's tone remained neutral, but his steps slowed. "How did you get him to the sewers? What did you do to him? To the Titans?"

Lightning split the sky as confusion flickered across Anja's face. "Sewers...? Titans...?" She shook her head slightly, wincing. "No, I... during the battle. I killed him during the battle."

ᛊ​

Movement caught Annie's attention. Through the curtain of rain, a figure emerged on stage, tall and commanding, golden hair stark against the darkening sky. The crowd's murmuring died instantly. Even the crows fell silent, their black eyes fixed on the scene below.

ᚨ​

Levi studied Anja carefully. Something was wrong with her breathing—too shallow, too quick. "Look at me when you're talking."

ᚹ​

"Good evening," Erwin's voice carried across the plaza without effort. "I am Commander Erwin Smith of the Scout Regiment."

ᚨ​

She raised her head slowly. Fresh blood stained her face, below her right eye... Levi frowned. The pupil had begun to dilate strangely, expanding like an ink stain in water.

ᚲ​

"I regret to inform you that Private Wolf is currently indisposed and unable to attend." Erwin's words fell heavy as stone. "She sends her regards."

Something in his tone made Annie's skin prickle. Clinical. Rehearsed. Her fingers twisted the ring faster now, an unconscious tell she couldn't quite suppress. Definitely wasn't the usual recruitment speech. The crowd's excited murmurs had died to an uneasy silence.

ᛖ​

A tremor ran through Anja's body. Her chains clinked softly against the stone floor. "I... I had to remember. Had to—" She cut off with a sharp intake of breath, her back going rigid.

ᚾ​

"I know many of you stand here today, driven by dreams of glory," Erwin's gaze swept across the crowd, unflinching. "Dreams of advancing beyond these walls. Of becoming heroes." He paused, letting the words hang in the rain-soaked silence. Then, his tone sharpened like a blade. "Those dreams end here."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, the sound barely audible over the patter of rain on upturned faces. Annie's jaw tightened as she watched him.

ᛃ​

"What happened to your eye?" Levi's question cut through the darkness below.

Instead of answering, Anja's body began to shake. The tremors started small, but each one seemed to build on the last, like waves growing before a storm. The chains groaned against their anchors.

ᛟ​

"You've heard stirring speeches about humanity's spirit. About honor, courage, sacrifice." Erwin continued, his words falling like hammer blows. "Now hear the truth: look to your left, to your right. In one month's time, those faces you see now will likely be nothing but memories."

ᛁ​

A sound rose from Anja's throat—something between a laugh and a sob. "Can't... can't hold it back anymore..." Her voice cracked, became something else entirely. "It's inside... watching..."

ᚾ​

"Our last expedition left thirty percent of our forces rotting in titan territory," Erwin continued, his words cutting through the rain. "These aren't just numbers—they're sons, daughters, friends, lovers. People who believed, just as you do now, that they would be the ones to make a difference."

ᚢ​

The door burst open behind Levi. "I heard—" Hange broke off, eyes widening at the scene before her. Lightning flashed, illuminating Anja's face—blood now streaming freely from her right eye, the left pupil consuming the iris like spreading darkness.

ᛊ​

"The reality of the Scout Regiment isn't glory," Erwin's voice rose above the thunder. "It's watching your comrades die in ways that will haunt your dreams forever. It's making choices that will break you: leaving comrades behind, choosing between the mission and mercy, you'll be carrying the weight of those decisions until your dying day."

ᚲ​

"Levi, hold her down!" Hange said, already moving as Anja's convulsions intensified.

ᛟ​

Annie watched as the first wave of cadets turned away, their footsteps heavy on rain-slicked stone. Smart ones, she thought. The ones who still remembered how to be afraid.

ᛗ​

"No! Get away!" The voice that tore from Anja's throat wasn't her own anymore. "It's coming out—they're all coming out!"

Hange approached with a syringe, then hesitated. "Levi, if she's like Eren... any wound could trigger—"

"We don't have a choice!" Levi grunted, struggling to hold Anja still. Her skin was ice-cold through the fabric of her shirt, like touching marble. Something was wrong with her breathing—too shallow, too quick. Like there were two rhythms fighting inside her chest. "Do it!"

ᛖ​

"You won't die gloriously," Erwin continued, relentlessly. "There is no glory in being devoured. You'll die screaming, choking on your own blood, begging for a swift death that will not come as titans tear you limb by limb." He paused, letting his words sink in. "All those who wish to join another branch are dismissed. The Garrison Regiment and Military Police serve vital roles in protecting humanity. There is no shame in choosing life."

ᚺ​

Hange drove the needle in. The sedative dispersed, but Anja showed no signs of slowing. "This isn't possible," she muttered, reaching for another syringe. "This amount would drop a horse—I need more."

ᛟ​

Annie glanced at Armin beside her, watching his face grow pale but determined as others filed past them toward the exits. She slipped away as they passed, finding shelter in a nearby alley.

ᛗ​

The chains holding Anja snapped with a sound like gunfire. Her back arched impossibly as something began to push against the skin around her right eye, distending it grotesquely. Through the pain, through the chaos of her fractured mind, she could hear it clearly now—the voice inside

The thing that had always been there, watching, waiting. The voice that whispered in her dreams, that sang in her blood during those moments of crimson rage.

"Please..." her voice changed, becoming something younger, more desperate, fighting against that other voice inside. "No more... they are watching... please..."

ᛖ​

"For those who remain," Erwin's voice cut through the storm, "I will share information that has been classified until now." His eyes swept the crowd with predatory intensity. "You may have heard rumors of a Titan among us."

ᚲ​

Hange drove the second needle home, emptying another massive dose. "Hold her head! Something's trying to—"

ᛟ​

Annie's heart stuttered. No. He wouldn't dare.

"The rumors are true." Erwin's voice carried across the plaza. "We have in our ranks a soldier who can transform into a Titan. Eren Jaeger will be our weapon in the upcoming expedition."

ᛗ​

Anja's right eye bulged, the skin around it splitting as something dark began to emerge. Her scream harmonized with the thunder overhead, a sound of primal agony that echoed off the stone walls.

"What the hell—" Levi cursed through clenched teeth, muscles straining as he fought to hold her down. The stone floor beneath them was beginning to crack. "Hange, whatever you're going to do—"

"I see it," Hange breathed, a horrible fascination creeping into her voice. "There's something in there, moving beneath the—"

ᛈ​

The remaining cadets stood rigid, their faces set with determination. From her hidden vantage point, Annie studied their reactions. Some showed fear, others resolve. Her eyes found Armin in the crowd, watching as understanding dawned on his face when Erwin pulled a small metal object from his jacket. A key.

ᛚ​

Thunder crashed as Anja's voice changed again, crackling with pain and something older. Something that didn't belong in a human throat. "Burns... just like before... the fire..."

"Our mission is to reach Shiganshina," Erwin declared, holding the key high. The metal caught the storm light as rain streamed down his face. "This key unlocks Jaeger's basement. We know crucial information about the Titans lies within—information that could turn the tide of this war."

ᛖ​

In the chamber below, something black and writhing began to emerge from Anja's eye socket. Hange's breath caught. "It's like the one they found in—"

ᛏ​

"Hange, just get it out!" Levi commanded, his usual composure cracking. "Now!"

ᛟ​

Annie's fingers had gone white around her ring as she pressed against the alley wall. Basement? What could it mean? Her eyes found Bertholdt in the crowd, saw her own uncertainty reflected in his rigid stance. Was this some kind of trick? What did Eren know?

"The chances of survival on this expedition are even slimmer than what I've already described," Erwin continued. "We will be pushing further into Titan territory than ever before. "

ᚾ​

Hange's forceps gleamed in the candle light as she worked. The thing in Anja's eye pulsed, its segmented body caught between emergence and retreat. "It's wrapped around the optic nerve," she muttered. "It's been feeding here, growing all this time..."

ᚹ​

The rain fell harder now. Annie studied Erwin's face. His conviction seemed absolute, unwavering. Could it be?

"Now, knowing the full truth," Erwin's eyes met each face in the crowd, his voice rising with authority, "knowing the dangers that await you, I welcome you to the Scout Regiment."

ᚺ​

The creature thrashed as Hange pulled. Anja's eye came free with a wet snap, the thing's dark mass still coiled around it. Her scream pierced through stone and earth, echoing off the chamber walls as blackened blood sprayed across the floor.

Something tore loose deep within Anja's skull. The parasite writhed in Hange's forceps, its segmented body flexing as clear fluid dripped from dozens of tiny legs. Anja slumped forward, blood streaming from the empty socket.

... :.;: ?! ;;;​

Silence fell across the plaza, broken only by the steady drumming of rain. Behind Erwin, the storm clouds began to break, letting weak sunlight pierce the gloom.

"You who stand before me now," Erwin's voice carried a weight of genuine respect, "yours is the path of greatest sacrifice. Through your courage, humanity shall find its salvation."

... ?! ;; ;;;​

In the chamber below, Anja's breathing had steadied, though occasional tremors still ran through her body. Hange carefully transferred the specimen to a glass jar, watching as its movements grew slower, more sluggish. "Levi," she whispered, "It's identical to the other one... It can't be a coincidence."

?! ?!​

The remaining cadets stood tall, faces set with unwavering determination. Some bore the look of true believers, others something harder to define. But the look on their faces was clear—there was no turning back now.

Erwin's fist struck his chest in a salute that resounded like the thunder rolling in the distance. "Dedicate your hearts!"

The plaza erupted in unison, fists meeting chests with a roar that echoed against the walls. Annie, concealed in shadow, watched it all unfold.

As the storm drifted beyond the walls, the plaza settled into uneasy quiet, though the distant rumble of thunder remained, leaving only the truth behind: cold, merciless, and unyielding as steel.

;: ;:;...​

Below, Anja stirred at last. Her lone eye fluttered open, unfocused yet fixated on something only she could perceive. Her cracked lips moved, forming words that barely escaped into the still air:

"Please... no more... help me..."

---

Lightning cast harsh shadows across the farmhouse's makeshift laboratory. Two glass jars caught the flash—one containing a clouded eyeball, dark veins spider-webbing through it; the other, a segmented creature, black and insect-like, parts of its body dissolving slowly in the fluid.

"Fascinating!" Hange darted between her microscope and scattered notes, nearly knocking over a rack of blood samples. "The parasite's composition—The structure seems to be breaking down in the solution, and yet..." She gestured wildly at her microscope. "The remaining cells are constantly shifting, reorganizing themselves. As if they're trying to maintain some kind of cohesion."

Levi shifted against the doorframe, the wood creaking under his weight. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, but his grip on his blade never wavered. Fresh scratches marked his ODM gear. "That kind of strength isn't normal," he said, voice rough from lack of sleep. "Even for a trained soldier."

"There's something else," Hange's eyes gleamed behind spattered glasses. "The samples show minute changes—nothing like Eren's regenerative response, but..." She shuffled through pages of frantic observations, knocking over an empty glass bottle. "The cellular structure maintains integrity under conditions that should cause total breakdown. No steam emissions, no visible healing, yet her body adapts somehow. I've used enough sedatives to kill a dozen men and she's still breathing." She adjusted her glasses, staring at her notes. "It's like looking at an entirely different biological framework."

Erwin lifted Heinrik's pendant, examining it in the lamplight. Simple metal, parts of it rusted, bearing a wolf's head and crossed swords. Something that might have been writing scored one edge or perhaps just a scratch. Blood had dried in its grooves.

"Did she confess?" he asked, setting the pendant down beside the scattered reports.

"She killed Tius," Levi said. "Admits it. But…" He straightened slightly. "When I mentioned the sewers, the research titans... Either she's an exceptional liar, or—"

"Or we have another player." Erwin's voice carried a note of grim satisfaction. His eyes fell on an ornate letter bearing an intricate seal, its golden edges catching the lamplight. "I thinned the ranks. Anyone still willing to join after that..."

"The parasite," Hange said suddenly, staring at the jar. "It's moving again, but differently this time—"

The sound of chains shifting echoed from below.

"They're holding," Levi noted, "for now."

"Erwin," Hange turned from her workspace littered with empty bottles. "Putting her to sleep isn't an option anymore. She'll wake soon. What do we do with her?"

Erwin stood silent for a moment, his reflection stark in the rain-streaked window. He watched black shapes gather in the trees, stark against the rain. "If she truly managed to wound the Armored Titan. That alone makes her..." He paused. "An interesting asset."

"Her resilience is extraordinary," Hange leaned forward, eyes bright with possibility. "She kept going when she should have collapsed. Think of what we could learn from studying this..." Her voice carried that familiar eager tone. "The potential applications alone—"

"She's unpredictable," Levi said flatly. "More liability than asset. And the Military Police won't stop their investigation."

Erwin turned from the window, his expression hardening. For what was coming, they needed every advantage they could get. "As far as they're concerned, Private Wolf is a decorated hero. We'll announce she's undertaking classified training. Meanwhile, we learn everything we can about what she is, what she can do, and most importantly—who or what else might be involved."

"Please... no more..." The words drifted up from below, Anja's voice cracking. "Help me... they're watching..."

Erwin and Levi exchanged glances. Recognition flashed across Levi's usually impassive features.

Below, through chains and darkness, Anja heard it—a whisper like wind through feathers:

"Sister..."​

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter XXII: Leash

---

Hange approached her workbench, the specimen jar drawing her gaze like a magnet. Around her, the converted dungeon still bore signs of its hasty transformation - fresh mortar patching ancient stonework, temporary support beams propped against walls where cells had been combined into makeshift laboratory space. The sharp chemical smell of her experiments couldn't quite mask the lingering dampness of the underground chamber.


The sound of heavy locks disengaging pulled Hange from her musings. She closed her notebook, gathering her tools as she waited. Stone ground against steel as Moblit worked the heavy door. Through the cell's bullseye window, the silhouettes of Levi and Petra stood out against the flickering torchlight, their attention fixed on something just out of view.


As they emerged, Levi's voice carried its usual measured calm. "We have what we need for now."


Petra clutched a sheaf of notes to her chest, her brow furrowed. "But Captain, I still think-"


"You have your orders," Levi cut her off. "Focus on your task. We'll discuss the rest later."


Petra ducked her head and moved past Hange, avoiding eye contact. Moblit's hands shook slightly as he reengaged the locking mechanism, the screech of metal on metal heralding the cell door's close.


Levi stopped beside Hange. "Try not to get too excited," he said. "She's not one of your pet titans."


"Tomorrow then?"


He lifted a hand in response, footsteps echoing as he left the laboratory. Hange traced her scar the cut still fresh and raw, watching him go.


"Open it."


Moblit worked the elaborate sequence of locks. The antechamber's door groaned open, then sealed behind her with a heavy thud. She lit her lantern, rapped twice on the inner cell's window, and nodded to Moblit. With a groan of chains the final barrier lifted.


The metallic scent of blood hit her first – sharp and clinical, marking where earlier tests had been conducted.


"We'll have this cleaned up before tomorrow's testing," Hange said, surveying the bloodstained floor. "Three weeks until the expedition. Commander Erwin wants you combat-ready by then."


She set the specimen jar in the path of the light, watching the play of shadow and illumination across its surface. This was the tenth time she'd brought it, each instance a silent hope for some reaction between the parasite and its former host. As always, the dark sludge within remained still and lifeless.


"Thank you," Anja's voice came quietly from where she knelt in the center of her cell. A latticework of chains running from wall-mounted brackets to the collar encircling her throat. The restraints allowed only the barest minimum of movement. Angry red lines scored Anja's arms where the morning's calibrations had marred flesh. The bandages covering her empty eye socket bore rusty stains, the linen crusted with half-dried blood. Her eye flickered to Hange's scar. "I'm sorry about—"


"The technicalities of the framework still need fine-tuning," Hange said briskly. "We'll be testing it, hopefully in the field. I need to confirm you can follow orders, even in the grip of your... episodes." She extracted her notebook, its pages dense with cramped scribblings and elaborate diagrams. "But first, about those memories you mentioned. The ones that surfaced during yesterday's trial?"


Leather creaked and metal clinked as Anja shifted, her movements tightly constrained by the web of chains. "They're... different now. Less overwhelming since you removed..." Her gaze drifted to the specimen jar.


Hange leaned forward, pencil poised. "Different how, exactly?"


"Like watching a stranger's life play out. A cabin deep in the woods. Trees taller than any I've seen..." Her remaining eye unfocused. "But wrong somehow. Like they're rotting from within."


Hange's pencil danced across the page, capturing every detail. "And these dreams, these memories have they been accompanied by anything else?"


Anja hesitated, her green eye catching the dim light like a cat's - almost luminescent as it darted to the shadowed corners of the cell. "No," she said at last, her voice low. "Nothing like that. Not anymore."


Hange's eyes narrowed slightly, but she let the moment pass. "Your healing factor," she said, changing tacks. "It's remarkably accelerated. Cuts that should take days to close are gone within hours." She tapped her pencil against the notebook thoughtfully. "Just like your brother."


"You knew him?"


"Not personally, no. But I studied his records extensively. Feats of strength, endurance, accelerated healing... "


Anja nodded toward the notebook, her voice edged with wariness. "How long have you been studying me?"


"Ever since you joined," Hange admitted, adjusting her glasses with a flicker of amusement. "When I first heard about your encounter with the Armored TItan, I was skeptical at first, like the others. Such tales often grow in the telling. But as I delved into your records, certain patterns emerged."


Water dripped somewhere in the darkness. Fresh blood trickled from one of Anja's half-healed cuts. "Is that why you're interested in me? Because of my brother?"


"Partly," Hange allowed. "Your physical capabilities, your uncanny resilience they make you a subject of particular interest. But it's the circumstances of your brother's death that truly fascinate me, I wonder…"


Anja stiffened. For a moment, her eye glazed – as if she was seeing something else.


Hange gestured to the jar on the table, its contents still inert. "There's something about this... a link, perhaps. I'm still piecing it together."


Anja's gaze drifted to the jar. "Did you find what you were looking for?"


Hange sighed, studying her subject's battered form—pale skin, dark bandages, fresh blood mixing with old stains. "No," she admitted, tapping her notebook absently. "But that's a matter for another time. Right now, our priority is to prepare you. Everything else is secondary."


She stood, gathering her materials. "Rest up. Tomorrow will be a big day." Hange paused at the door, glancing back. "And Anja… remember our agreement. Whatever you are, whatever gifts or curses you carry—they must be leashed. Controlled. We cannot afford any more setbacks."


The door clicked shut behind her, leaving only the faint echo of boots marking the changing guard above.


Water dripped somewhere in the darkness, a slow, relentless rhythm. Anja sat motionless in her cell, her eye fixed on the heavy iron door through which Hange had disappeared, taking the specimen with her. The monster they had caught, or perhaps, the one that had chosen to be caged.

---

***/ **​

Three floors above the dungeons, Miche stood at the window of Erwin's office, his tall frame casting a shadow across the maps spread on the commander's desk. Hange sat hunched over her notebook, still adding observations from her session with Anja, candlelight catching on her spattered glasses. Behind her, Levi leaned against the wall, his usual scowl deepened by exhaustion.


Miche's nostrils flared slightly. "The recruits are getting curious about the west wing." His gaze shifted to Erwin. "Especially Arlert. That one's far sharper than he lets on."


"And the others?" Levi's tone remained flat, but his fingers tightened on his crossed arms.


Through the window behind Miche, twilight cast long shadows across the training grounds where the new recruits drilled in formation. Several of them showed promise, but resources were stretched thin - every soldier would need to pull double duty.


Hange looked up from her fresh notes, quill pausing mid-stroke. "How's Eren's training progressing?"


"Better," Levi answered, pushing off from the wall. "But he's distracted. Keeps asking about her."


Erwin's eyes flicked briefly to Levi before returning to the expedition routes marked in his steady hand. "Arlert's curiosity could be an asset if managed correctly," he said, his tone thoughtful. "But Eren needs focus. Make use of the ones who show the most promise – let them help train the others. We need every soldier ready."


"Six out of the top ten graduates," Levi remarked dryly. "Quite the surprise for our recruitment numbers."


"Nothing to do with luck." Erwin's tone carried quiet certainty. "But as long as they play their part... We need to know our assets will be ready. We are running out of time to show results."


"I've already made strides with Eren," Hange said, her voice taking on that edge of scientific fascination that made even Levi shift uncomfortably. "But her situation is different. If you could give me just a few more weeks—"


"No." Erwin looked up, the dimming light casting harsh shadows across his features. "You know it's not that simple. We just need her under control."


"My framework can already do that..." Hange's fingers drummed against her notebook. She met Erwin's gaze meaningfully, a silent exchange the others weren't privy to yet.


"Then?"


"I need to test something on the field."


"Is that it?" Levi straightened slightly. "Then I'll get something—"


"Outside the walls."


The words fell like stones in still water. Even the candle flames seemed to waver.


Miche turned from the window, his expression darkening. "Have you lost your mind?"


"Are you sure the air down there is doing you alright, four eyes?" Levi's tone was sharp, but genuine concern lay beneath the sarcasm.


Hange held Erwin's calculating stare, her conviction evident in every line of her posture. "Commander, what we discussed earlier... I'm certain now, there's no other way to test this not with our current situation."


Erwin studied her for a long moment, weighing the risk against their dwindling resources and mounting pressure from above. "Three days," he said finally. "You have three days to prove your theory. After that, we proceed as planned." He turned to Miche. "The new recruits need to master the long-range formation before the expedition. Focus on that."


Miche nodded, though his expression remained troubled. "And when they ask why our 'hero' is still missing from training?"


"Let them ask." Erwin reached for his ceremonial jacket. "Soon enough they'll have their answers." He paused, directing his attention to Levi. "Is she ready?"


The question hung heavy with unspoken meaning. Levi's eyes narrowed slightly. "She will be."


"Good. They'll be expecting her in Stohess." Erwin adjusted his bolo tie. "We can't afford any mistakes. Not with what's at stake."


"The nobles want their hero," he continued, moving toward the door. "Make sure they get one."


"Good luck," Hange called, already lost in her notes.


"Got the feeling you're going to be needing it more than I." Erwin's boots echoed against stone as he left.


The remaining three stood in silence, broken only by the scratch of Hange's quill. Outside, the sun had fully set, leaving only moonlight to illuminate the training grounds where tomorrow's hopes rested in untested hands.

---

***/ **


They're closing in.


Darkness pressed against Anja's consciousness, thick and viscous as tar. Something moved in that void – many somethings, their wings beating against the dark. She could hear their whispers, feel their breath on her neck, but whenever she turned, they stayed just out of sight.


Closer now.


The beating of wings grew louder, became the thunder of footsteps. Heavy. Rhythmic. Getting closer. She tried to run, but her legs wouldn't move. The whispers grew more insistent, became words she almost understood—


Sister...​

Anja jerked awake with a gasp that caught in her throat, chains rattling against metal. For a moment, the darkness felt the same as her dream – absolute, suffocating. But this darkness moved, swayed with a mechanical rhythm that vibrated through the floor beneath her.


"Another one of your nightmares?" Hange's voice came from somewhere in the gloom, accompanied by the sound of metal scraping against metal. A faint light caught on her glasses as she worked, making adjustments to something that gleamed dully in the darkness.


Movement drew Anja's attention to the far corner of the wagon. She recognized the small figure pressed against the wall - the ginger-haired soldier who sometimes accompanied Levi during his visits to her cell. Though she never spoke, her amber eyes had remained fixed on Anja during each interrogation, watching for any sign of threat.


"Petra, hand me that wrench, would you?" Hange called out, not looking up from her work.


The soldier - Petra - moved with fluid grace despite the swaying wagon, passing the tool to Hange while maintaining her distance from Anja. One hand stayed near the blade at her hip, a detail that hadn't escaped Anja's notice during any of their previous encounters.


Anja tried to shift position, but the chains held firm. How long had she been out? The framework around her body felt heavier than before, pressing against her ribs with each breath. "You get used to it," she managed, her voice rough from disuse. "the nightmares..."


"Hmm." Metal clinked as Hange tightened something. "Every time you fall asleep, and yet you seem well-rested."


Petra shifted uneasily at this observation, her grip tightening on her weapon.


The wagon hit a bump, making the chains jangle. "Where are you taking me?"


Hange didn't answer, too focused on her work. In the dim light, Anja could make out more of the framework now – an intricate web of metal and leather that encased her torso. She'd lost count of how many times Hange had adjusted it, each iteration drawing blood or leaving deep bruises. Moving in it felt like fighting against a current, every motion restricted, controlled.


The wagon ground to a halt. Voices filtered in from outside – sharp commands, the sound of boots on stone. Anja's pulse quickened.


"We won't get another chance to test this." Hange moved closer, her hands working at the framework's clasps. Each adjustment sent needles of pressure across Anja's skin as the metal bands constricted, finding their final position.


"What do you mean?" The question came out strained as the framework tightened further.


A panel slid open ahead, letting in a sliver of grey light. Moblit's silhouette appeared. "Section Commander," he paused, eyes darting to Anja, "everything's ready."


Hange grabbed handles mounted on the wagon's wall, nodding. The floor shifted beneath them, and Anja's stomach lurched as they began to move upward. More voices outside now, closer. Orders being shouted. Metal groaned as Hange worked at a series of pulleys connected to the framework, feeding out what looked like a tether that ran to her ODM gear.


The ascent stopped abruptly. Hange pulled a lever, and the framework's grip loosened slightly. "Better?"


"Yes..." Anja worked her shoulders, testing the new range of motion. "But you still haven't told me—"


Light flooded the wagon as the doors swung wide. Anja flinched, her eye unable to shield itself from the assault. How long had it been since she'd seen the sun? Days? Weeks? As her vision adjusted, disbelief froze the air in her lungs.


They were atop Wall Rose.


The wind hit her first—clean and sharp, carrying the scent of open plains. A supply wagon and horses dotted the broad surface of the wall. Her chains fell away, and Anja's legs shook as she stepped down from the wagon, her body remembering freedom, even as the framework reminded her of its limits. A handful of soldiers stood ready, blades drawn, their postures tense. They all took a step back. Petra moved to Hange's side, her movements precise, protective. All except Levi, who remained still.


"Aren't you going to tell us what your big plan is?" His eyes narrowed at Hange, who was checking the tether's tension with an unsettling grin.


"We're hunting a titan."


The words rang across stone as Hange pulled the tether taut.

---

"Form up!" Levi's command cut through her reverie. The soldiers moved with practiced efficiency, their horses forming a loose diamond pattern. Two veterans she didn't recognize took the rear corners - a tall woman with close-cropped blonde hair and a man who carried himself with casual confidence despite the tension. Team Levi spread across the middle positions while Hange guided her horse alongside Anja's, the tether between them gleaming in the sunlight.


"Nice morning for a hunt, eh Nanaba?" the man called out.


"Focus," the blonde woman responded, though her eyes never left Anja.


"Remember," Hange called as they began their descent, "stay tight until we're clear from the wall's shadow. Then we spread out." Her eyes gleamed with that familiar scientific intensity. "And Anja? No heroics. You follow my lead."


The framework constricted slightly, emphasizing the point. But Anja barely noticed. The world beyond the walls stretched endlessly before her, a canvas of greens and golds under the morning sun. How long had it been since she'd seen such open sky? The damp darkness of her cell felt like a lifetime ago.


Their horses' hooves found purchase on the lift's ramp, the descent causing her stomach to lurch. The tether swayed between her and Hange, catching morning light like a spider's thread. She could feel the others watching her, their hands never far from their blade handles.


The metal bands tightened suddenly, breaking her reverie. Hange had pulled something, making the metal bands shift across Anja's torso. A warning? Or just a test? She couldn't read anything in Hange's expression


They hit flat ground at a gallop, hooves thundering against packed earth. The formation spread wider, each rider finding their position with practiced ease. Wind whipped past Anja's face, carrying scents that made her throat tighten - wild grass, morning dew, earth still damp with dawn. Her remaining eye blurred with tears, though whether from the wind or emotion, she couldn't tell. The framework might control her movements, but it couldn't contain the surge of feeling in her chest. Freedom, even tethered, tasted sharp and sweet on her tongue.


The first hour passed in tense silence as they rode deeper into titan territory. Anja watched shadows stretch and shrink across the endless grass, her mind still adjusting to such open space. Occasionally, Hange would tug at the tether, testing the framework's response, each adjustment a reminder of its presence around her ribs.


"Titan, northeast!" Nanaba's voice cut through.


The formation tightened. Through the haze of distance, a dark shape loomed, its presence unmistakable even at a glance. Every scout knew that lurching rhythm, that distorted mockery of human motion.


As they drew closer, its outline sharpened – easily a ten meter class. Instead of charging or wandering aimlessly, it sat hunched in place, its massive form shifting sluggishly. Its movements were minimal, almost lethargic, as though it were swaying to some unheard rhythm, caught in a trance like stupor.


The metal restraints shifted against her ribs, each intake carrying the metallic tang of her own fear.


"Hey," Hange whispered, checking something on the framework's back panel, "slow and steady. No sudden movements." Her fingers traced the connection points where thick tubes fed into her gas tank. "Just like we practiced."


The touch of metal against her ribs brought back that morning's demonstration, when Hange had unveiled her creation to the squad.

---

***/ **


"I call this beauty the Tethered Control Framework," Hange announced proudly. "With this, she can move freely—but if she goes too far, I can pull the tether and shut her down."


Anja had stood rigidly as Hange gestured toward her with characteristic enthusiasm. "In theory, she can move freely and fight just like the rest of you, but if she starts to go a little... too excited, I can pull the tether and restrict her movement. It's a fail-safe to keep everything under control."


"So, you made a leash, then?" Levi's tone was dry.


"A... leash?!" Then, after a beat. "Well… you're not wrong. It's definitely a leash." Her grin returned, unabated. "But a very sophisticated one."


She had continued, adjusting the oversized tank. "The gas system is the key. It powers both the ODM gear and the TCF. Too much gas freezes the joints; too little, they go slack. Without it, she's immobilized. Try to tamper with it, and the system locks down entirely."


Petra had stepped closer then, though her hand never strayed far from her blade. "But what if she tries to remove it?"


"Everything's pressure-sealed." Hange's eyes lit up, her energy practically radiating as she spoke. "Try to break any part of it, and the whole system locks down. Instant full restriction."


"And you control the gas?" Levi's tone was skeptical but focused.


"Her regulator is connected to my unit." She'd patted the modified ODM gear at her hip. "I control her gas flow, her movement range, everything. One pull, and—"


The framework had constricted without warning, drawing a sharp breath from Anja.


"See? Perfect control!"


"So, we just have to find a titan and let her get close?" Petra's voice had carried barely concealed concern.


"Yes, and we stay back. No intervention." Hange's tone had grown serious. "If my notes are correct, she shouldn't be in any danger."


"There's no other way to test this..." Hange had adjusted her glasses. "This is the best we can do with what we can spare and the time we've got. Better make it count."​

---

***/ **​

Now, facing an actual titan, those words carried new weight. The framework shifted against her ribs as another gust of wind brought the creature's scent. Time to see if Hange's invention worked as promised.


"Stay in position," Levi commanded, his voice carrying across the grass. The soldiers spread out in a wide arc, maintaining distance but ready to intervene. The morning sun caught on their drawn blades.


Hange began feeding out the tether, the metal cable humming as it extended. "Just approach it. If I pull twice, you retreat. Immediately."


Anja's hands felt empty without her blades. The formation waited a hundred meters behind her at the edge of the treeline, their horses mere silhouettes in the morning haze. The tether connecting her to Hange stretched across the open grassland, glinting in the sunlight.


Behind her, voices carried faintly on the wind, too distant to make out clearly. She focused instead on what lay ahead.


The massive titan sat beneath a lone oak tree, legs folded beneath it like some grotesque child. Beyond it, a dark treeline loomed like a wall of shadows in the distance. Each step forward made the framework creak, sweat trickling down her spine despite the cool air.


Twenty meters. Nineteen. Eighteen.


A black bird landed on the titan's shoulder, its head shifted as it watched her approach. Anja hesitated but she pressed on, though every felt heavier than the last, as if the titan's mere presence pressed down on her. The framework creaked softly with her movements.


Ten meters. Six meters. The titan's gaze swept past her, unseeing. This close, she could make out every detail of its inhuman features - the too-smooth skin, the way its chest didn't move with breath, the absolute stillness of its eyes. Her own heartbeat thundered in her ears. How strange, to stand before something so massive and remain invisible to it. One more step would put her within arm's reach—


The bird tilted its head.


"Yes!" Hange's shout shattered the silence. "They can't sense—"


Movement caught Anja's eye - a flock suddenly taking flight from the distant treeline. The warning came too late - two titans burst from the shadows, charging toward the formation from behind. Shouts of alarm rang across the field as the scouts wheeled their horses to face the new threat.


The massive body beside her shifted. Anja leaped backward as the sitting titan unfolded itself, its movements sending tremors through the ground. It rose to its full height, attention drawn by the commotion. Amidst the chaos, she saw Petra break from the formation, spurring her horse toward them.


The titan took its first thundering step forward then another. Each footfall shook the earth as it began to run, closing the distance between itself and the formation. Petra's horse caught between the charging titans behind and the giant ahead, reared in panic. She fought to control it, but the terrified animal bucked violently, throwing her to the ground.


"Petra!" Levi's voice cut through the air.


The titan was moving faster now, maybe sixty meters from where Petra had fallen. She scrambled to her feet as her horse bolted away. With no trees or buildings nearby, she fired her ODM gear directly at the approaching titan. The hooks caught, but something was wrong. The cables twisted around the titan's leg as it ran, refusing to retract.


Petra yanked at her gear's release mechanism, but the cables held fast. The massive creature was thirty meters away now. Twenty. Petra drew her blades, preparing to cut herself free, but there wasn't enough time—


Anja was already running. The framework creaked as she fired her gear, hooks embedding in the titan's shoulder. Gas roared through the system as she swung in a wide arc, using the titan's momentum. Its massive hand was reaching for Petra when Anja slammed into her, knocking them both clear of its grasp.


They hit the ground hard, rolling through grass and mud. The titan's fingers crashed into the earth where Petra had stood heartbeats before. Its head turned, eyes fixing on them with terrible focus. No longer unseeing. No longer ignorant.


The framework suddenly locked tight around Anja's chest, driving the air from her lungs. As the pressure increased, something in the left shoulder joint creaked – a tiny fluctuation in the gas pressure, barely noticeable beneath the crushing force. But it was there: for just a moment, the metal seemed to give slightly before reasserting its grip.


Blackness crept at the edges of her vision as she struggled for breath. Through the haze, she saw the titan's massive hand descending toward them again.


A green blur cut through the morning light. Levi struck with surgical precision, his blades carving perfect arcs through the titan's nape. Steam erupted as the massive body collapsed backward.


Anja lay in the grass, chest heaving as she fought against the framework's iron grip. Each attempted breath was a battle. The sound of running feet approached – Hange, practically bouncing with excitement despite the near disaster.


"Section Commander—" Petra started, but Hange was already adjusting something on her control unit.


The pressure vanished. Air rushed back into Anja's lungs as the framework relaxed, that earlier anomaly in the shoulder joint forgotten beneath the simple relief of being able to breathe again.


"Incredible!" Hange was practically vibrating. "Did you see how it completely ignored her until—"


"Enough." Levi landed beside them, blades steaming. His voice carried an edge sharp as his cuts. "We're done with this little experiment. Back to the wall. Now."


Anja pushed herself to her knees, still gasping. Above them, black birds wheeled against the morning sky, their calls mixing with the hiss of steam from the fallen titans.

---

***/ **​

Evening shadows crept down stone walls as Hange guided Anja through the converted dungeons. The framework's joints creaked softly with each step down the narrow stairs, but its weight felt different now. Almost familiar. The day's events had left their mark - not just in bruises and strain, but in something deeper that made even these underground chambers feel less confining than before.


"You did great out there!" Hange's enthusiasm echoed through the passage as she worked at the framework's release mechanisms. "This is just what we needed. We've got a few more tests to run, if you're not feeling—"


"I'm feeling good." The words surprised Anja even as she spoke them. "Let's continue tomorrow."


"Really?" For a moment, Hange froze, a flicker of pride or relief crossing her face. "I mean, yes. Great. We'll do that." She fumbled with her pockets and pressed a small package into Anja's hands. "Here. Bread, straight from the officers' stores. You earned it today."


The cell door closed with its usual finality, the metallic clang reverberating in the stillness. In the dark, Anja settled onto her cot, the chains allowing just enough freedom to sit. Her eye, accustomed to the gloom, focused on the bread in her hands.


"I saw the outside today," she murmured, tearing off a piece. The fresh bread dissolved on her tongue as she continued, "After so long. The wind felt just like you said it would—carrying scents from beyond the walls."


Each bite stirred a memory of the day, her voice growing softer. "They're not bad people, you know. Even with all this." She shifted, the chains clinking softly. "They're just trying to help, in their own way. And today... I think I proved something to them."


For a moment, the darkness seemed to fall away, replaced by endless grasslands and open sky. "I have to show them," she whispered, her grip tightening on the bread. "Show them I can help."


A soft laugh broke the silence. "You already have, imp."


Heinrik sat in his usual spot, as real as the chains that bound her, watching her with that same gentle smile he always wore.


"They'll see what I've always seen in you, Anja."

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter XXIII: Right in Plain Sight

---

Metal restraints. The smell of antiseptic. The cold bite of needles. A voice, distant but insistent:





"Help me..."​

She jerked awake, sheets twisted around her legs like bindings. For a moment, the nightmare's clinical smell lingered, mixing with memories of underground chambers and muffled screams. But this time, the screams weren't hers.


"Oh look, sleeping beauty's finally joining us!" Hitch's voice cut through the darkness, deliberately cheerful. "What was it this time? The one where you're fighting shadows, or the one where you keep muttering that girl's name?"


Annie's head snapped toward her roommate, who was already dressed and preening before their small mirror. Dawn light caught on Hitch's carefully styled hair, each strand arranged in practiced disarray.


"I don't talk in my sleep." Annie's voice remained flat as she disentangled herself from the sheets, but her heart was still racing. The image wouldn't fade – Anja strapped to some examination table, needles glinting in torchlight...


"Please," Hitch rolled her eyes, adjusting her uniform collar for the third time. "You're like my own personal theater every night. Though lately it's been more tragedy than comedy." She spun around, and struck a dramatic pose. "'Where are you?' 'What are you doing to her?' Very mysterious. Kinda weird, but hey you do you."


Annie reached under her pillow, checking that her notebook was still in place. The pages were filled with what appeared to be mundane daily observations, each entry meticulously dated and arranged in her precise handwriting.


"Ooh, writing love letters?" Hitch materialized over her shoulder as Annie quickly tucked the notebook away. "Come on, you can tell me! Is it that handsome guy from your group? The freckled one? Or maybe..." Her grin turned wicked. "That mysterious someone you keep muttering about?"


"Personal space, Hitch." But the words lacked real bite. Let her think it was about boys. Better than her noticing the careful maps of patrol routes and guard rotations hidden in those pages. The Scout Regiment remained frustratingly elusive - despite a week of observation, she'd uncovered barely any useful information about their plans.


"You know what your problem is?" Hitch flopped onto her perfectly made bed, somehow managing to avoid wrinkling her uniform. "You think too much. We made it! Military Police, a cushy life in the interior. Relax a little!" She studied Annie's reflection in the mirror. "Though I guess brooding does suit you. Deliciously dark and mysterious."


Annie tucked the notebook away and finished buttoning her uniform, movements mechanical as her mind worked through today's tasks. Where to check next? The archives had yielded nothing useful about recent Scout movements.


"Hello? Earth to Annie?" Hitch was already at the door, hands on hips. "Formation's starting!"


"Coming," Annie muttered, following her into the hallway. Its stone walls stretched long and shadowed, older than the walls that protected humanity. She caught glimpses of familiar faces – Marco and Jean down one corridor, both wearing the unicorn insignia of the Military Police. She kept her gaze forward. The mission had to come first. Had to.


Her thoughts turned to the day ahead. Another shift of patrols, more dead ends. The Scouts had gone quiet since Trost - no significant movements, no official communications, not even rumors about...


"Straighten up!" Sub-officer Aiblinger's sharp voice cut through her thoughts. The young man stood rigidly at attention, his uniform pressed to perfection - a stark contrast to their commanding officer who swayed behind him, clothes stained and eyes bloodshot from the previous night's excesses.


"Sm—Morning rookies," he slurred, squinting at a crumpled paper. "What's in it for today... hm, you. These are the orders. Make sure all tasks are completed. I will come back to... supervise later." He stumbled off, nearly colliding with a pillar.


"Now that's what I call leadership," Hitch whispered, barely containing her glee. "Can't wait to be an officer."


"Did you say something, Dreyse?"


"No sir! Just admiring the chain of command, sir!"


"Right." The sub-officer's smile promised future retribution. "All of you will be reporting to Lieutenant Klaus. Got a few jobs that you rookies can handle."


Annie was already turning to go when his next words froze her in place.


"Ah, not so fast, Dreyse. Freudenberg, Feulner and Weber – Captain Brandt wants a word."


Brandt. Annie's pulse quickened slightly. She'd seen that name in too many reports, tracked its movements through carefully gathered intelligence. The officer assigned to investigate the Trost 'incident'.


What could he want with someone like Hitch?


"Ooh, special assignment!" Hitch bumped Annie's shoulder as she passed. "Don't miss me too much, roomie. Try not to solve all of life's mysteries while I'm gone!"


Annie watched them leave, her hand unconsciously rubbing the weight of the ring on her finger. The assignment still lingered in her mind, but her thoughts were scattered, the unfamiliar sense of responsibility pressing down on her.


The barracks were quiet now, the bustle of her colleagues' chatter fading as she stepped into the crisp morning air. Above, dark shapes wheeled in the sky, their shadows stretching over the rooftops of Stohess like silent observers. The distant toll of bells echoed, signaling the shift from one task to the next.

---

The grand ballroom of the Stohess manor buzzed with activity as servants and Military Police rushed to prepare for the upcoming celebration. Annie adjusted another garland along one of the massive marble columns, the afternoon sun streaming through tall windows onto polished floors.


The noble district never failed to remind her how far she was from Trost's cramped streets and dark alleys. Here, even the air felt different - perfumed and pristine, carefully maintained like everything else.


"Hear ye, hear ye!" A caller's voice rang through the street. "Coming to Stohess - the Hero of Trost herself!" His cart rolled past the mansion, adorned with a portrait rendered in careful brushstrokes. Anja's face stared back at the crowd gathering around him, her expression determined but something missing in the eyes. Something Annie had learned to recognize during their training days.


"Starting the party without me?" Hitch appeared beside the column, noticing Annie's distraction. She squinted at the passing cart.


"Doesn't look very heroic to me. She looks too stiff," she mused, then turned to Annie with sudden curiosity. "Hey, wasn't she in your training corps? That girl everyone's talking about?"


"Just help me with this," Annie continued her work, letting Hitch's question hang unanswered in the air.


They worked in silence for a moment, Hitch humming some tune off-key. Around them, other MPs arranged tables and chairs with the same enthusiasm they brought to everything – minimal at best.


"Isn't this strange to you?" Annie finally asked, watching a senior officer berate a cadet for improper tablecloth placement.


"What? The fact that we spent two years in training, made the top of our classes to be elite soldiers only to end up as party planners?" Hitch grinned, adjusting a flower arrangement with exaggerated care. "Come on, this is the dream! Look at this place – nobility, fancy food, drinks, probably lots of handsome boys in formal wear..."


"That's not—" Annie paused, choosing her words carefully. "The best of the best, they said. The honor of serving in the interior. And yet..."


"Yet here we are, making sure Lord What's-His-Name's napkins are the right shade of cream?" Hitch laughed. "What more could you wish for?"


Annie's hands stilled on the garland. "What did Brandt want with you?"


"Oh..." For once, Hitch's perpetual smirk faltered. She glanced around nervously. "Just... routine stuff. About Trost."


"What about Trost?"


"My, my, aren't we curious today!" Hitch's voice wavered slightly. "We got pulled there, a few weeks ago. One of our first assignments."


"The lockdown..."


"Hmm." Hitch's usual energy drained away. "Place gave me the creeps. All those empty streets..." She fidgeted with her uniform. "Don't know how you could stand it..."


Annie kept arranging flowers, her movements steady but deliberate. "I was surprised the lockdown was called off early. Found nothing important then?"


"Well..." Hitch glanced around before lowering her voice. "We found something weird in the sewers. Some Scout specialist came to look at it - crazy looking one with glasses." She bit her lip. "Brandt ordered us not to talk about it."


"The Scouts were involved?"


"I shouldn't say anything. It's classified. I mean, even the Interior Squad showed up just after my meeting with—" Hitch caught herself, color draining from her face.


Annie's hands stilled imperceptibly.


"Oh, would you look at that!" Hitch suddenly straightened, her voice pitching higher as she backed away. "They're bringing out the Sina vintage!"


Annie watched her roommate flee toward the refreshments. Whatever they'd found in Trost there had rattled more than just Hitch. She would need to investigate herself.

---

Sunset cast long shadows across the mansion's marble floors as Jean slumped against a courtyard wall, his uniform jacket discarded despite Marco's occasional disapproving glances. They'd been at this since dawn - arranging furniture, hanging decorations, following endless instructions about proper placement of everything from chairs to candlesticks.


"You know what I imagined when I made top ten?" Jean stretched dramatically. "Definitely not spending my days making sure the tablecloths match the damn curtains."


Marco looked up from the guest list he'd been reviewing, with that characteristic warmth in his smile. "Come on, it's not that bad. We're part of something important here."


"Important?" Jean scoffed. "What's important about making sure the wine glass is exactly three inches from his plate?"


"These people fund the military, Jean. The whole reason we can maintain the walls—"


"Yeah, yeah, save the recruitment speech. I just... I don't know. I thought it'd be different."


"Different how? Having second thoughts?" Marco's tone was steady.


"Hey, I never said I regretted my choice!" Jean straightened indignantly. "Better arranging cutlery than ending up as titan breakfast like those Scout Regiment idiots."


His words trailed off as he noticed Annie by the mansion's gate, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, that same disinterested expression she'd worn throughout training.


"Speaking of weird choices..." Jean nodded in her direction. "What's her deal anyway?"


"Hmm?" Marco followed his gaze.


"Annie. Makes it into the top ten, gets this cushy interior posting, and she acts like she's at a funeral." Jean shook his head. "Hasn't said two words to any of us since we got here."


"Well, you know how she is." But Marco's usual smile had faded slightly. "But lately..."


"What, you think the mighty Annie Leonhart is finally cracking under the pressure of proper napkin folding?" Jean smirked. "Maybe she's realized her scary face doesn't work on tablecloths."


"Be serious for once." Marco's voice carried an unusual edge. "Haven't you noticed anything... odd? The way she disappears whenever officers are around, how she's always writing in that notebook of hers..."


"Oh?" Jean nudged Marco with his elbow, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Keeping pretty close tabs on her, huh? Should I be worried? Or jealous?"


"It's not like that and you know it." Marco sighed, but Jean was already warming to the topic.


"No, no, I get it. The whole mysterious ice queen thing. Very appealing. I gotta say, your taste in women is almost as questionable as your dedication to the king."


Marco shot him a pointed look, crossing his arms. "Says the guy who spent two years drooling over Mikasa?"


"Hey! That's—" Jean's indignant reply cut short as he glanced back at the gate. "Where'd she go?"


The spot by the wall was empty. Annie had vanished as silently as a shadow at noon.


"See what I mean?" Marco's voice was quiet. "She does that. Just... disappears."


"Probably just found a better spot to slack off," Jean shrugged, but his attempt at humor fell flat against Marco's troubled expression. "Come on, what's really bothering you?"


"I don't know. It's just..." Marco hesitated. "She barely put in any effort during training, still made top ten. And now she's here, but it's like she couldn't care less about any of it."


"Well, not everyone's in love with the king like you are." Jean nudged his friend's shoulder. "Some people just want the easy life. Nothing wrong with that."


"Maybe." But Marco kept staring at the empty space where Annie had stood, something uncertain in his expression. "But then why would she..."

---

Night had settled over Stohess when Annie slipped away from her duties at the mansion. She made her way toward where she knew Brandt's office was located - a modest building near the military district. At this hour, the streets should have been quiet, but something was off. Military Police stood at strategic corners, their uniforms pristine, turning away the occasional passerby with excuses about maintenance work.


Annie circled the perimeter from the shadows, noting the positions of the guards. Their bearing was too proper, their attention too sharp for regular MPs. A deliberate screen to keep eyes away from what was happening inside.


She found her opening through a narrow alley between buildings. As she scaled the wall, voices drifted up from below.


"The hell you movin' so slow for?" The drawling voice cut through the night like a rusted blade. Annie froze mid-climb, her heart skipping a beat as the unmistakable tone sent a chill down her spine. Below, a tall figure in a black trench coat stretched lazily, adjusting his hat. "It ain't that complicated. In and out, boys."


That man.


"Sir, the perimeter is secured," a woman's voice replied, crisp and professional. The blonde stood at rigid attention, while the others wore civilian clothes as they worked. "We'll have everything prepared within the hour."


"Yeah, yeah." The hat tilted dangerously. "Just make it fast. I ain't got all night to babysit."


"Should we do another sweep of the office, Captain?"


"Stop wastin' my time with that," he muttered, his tone dropping to something deadly.


"I'm sorry sir, but what about the notes? Shouldn't we take them?"


"Why bother? Our friend ain't gonna be writin' any more reports, is he? Shame about that accident he's about to have. C'mon, drinks are on me tonight."


Annie counted heartbeats as the man and his second disappeared down the street before making her move.


"Hey, put that out!" A sharp whisper from below. "You trying to get us all killed?"


"Just one last drag-"


"With all this around? Are you insane?"


She heard the sound of a cigarette being ground out, followed by muttered curses.


The office window opened without sound. Inside, moonlight revealed what interrogation looked like - overturned furniture, scattered papers, walls bearing witness to violence. The smell of copper hung thick in the air, mixing with something else - a greasy scent that made her nose wrinkle. Lamp oil. They were already at work in the adjacent rooms.


Annie's heart raced as she entered Brandt's private office. He sat tied to his chair, head lolled at an unnatural angle. Before him, papers were pinned to his desk with a bloodied letter opener - diagrams of Trost's underground tunnels, witness statements, coordinates marked in increasingly shaky handwriting.


She was just reaching for the papers when footsteps approached from the hallway. Annie moved silently behind a heavy bookcase as two men entered, carrying more containers.


"Bring some more here," one directed, his civilian clothes at odds with his military bearing. "Make sure we're thorough."


Annie pressed herself against the wall, barely breathing as they worked mere steps from where she hid. Lamp oil splashed across floorboards and furniture, the greasy smell growing stronger. One of the men set the canister on the desk.


"Poor bastard." The shorter one kicked aside a chair. "Shouldn't have stuck his nose where it didn't belong."


"Shut up and pour."


She waited until they moved to the adjacent room before carefully making her way back to the desk. With trembling hands, she unpinned the papers, some of them falling to the floor, a few landing in the spilled oil. She grabbed what she could, her eyes shifting to the door.


Just as she was about to reach for the window latch, footsteps approached unexpectedly. Annie darted back behind the bookcase, her heart pounding as one of the men reentered the room.


He moved closer to the desk, his hand reaching for the forgotten canister. Suddenly, he paused. His gaze lingered on the papers strewn across the floor, the traces of oil. Annie held her breath, every muscle tensed, ready to spring into action.


The man took a step towards the bookcase, his eyes narrowing. Annie's mind raced. She slowly reached for the letter opener lying amid the scattered papers.


"Hey, hurry up!" his partner called impatiently from the other room. "We need to finish this!"


The man hesitated a moment longer, then grabbed the canister and left. Annie listened as his footsteps receded, counting silently to ten before daring to move.


She slipped from behind the bookcase and crossed to the window in three quick strides. Lifting the latch carefully, she eased it open and peered into the night. The alley below was clear.


Annie didn't slow her pace until she was streets away, the bloodstained documents pressed against her chest. Behind her, orange light began to bloom against Stohess's carefully ordered streets.

---

The barracks loomed ahead, its dark windows promising safety. Annie had almost reached the door when—


"Caught you." Hitch's voice cut through the darkness, carrying a predatory satisfaction that made Annie's muscles tense. She emerged from the shadows like a cat who'd been waiting all night for its prey. "You're getting sloppy, you know. Used to be so much better at this."


Annie's fingers tightened around the documents hidden beneath her jacket. Had Hitch seen something? What could she know?


"First you disappear during setup." Hitch circled slowly, each step deliberate. "Then all those times you've slipped away during patrol. Those little 'errands' you're always running." Her eyes glinted in the moonlight. "Someone might start to think you're up to something."


Annie's mind raced through scenarios, evaluating angles, exits—


"And then," Hitch's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "When Klaus asked where you'd vanished to, I had to get creative." She paused, her smile growing wider. "You know, at first I thought you might be up to something dangerous. Maybe even illegal."


Annie felt her pulse quicken.


"Tell me something, Annie. Is he handsome at least?"


"...What?"


"Oh, come on!" Hitch's serious demeanor cracked into a delighted grin. "The sneaking around? The distant looks? All those notes you're always writing?" She clasped her hands together dramatically. "You're obviously head over heels! I've got to say, I'm shocked—of all people, you having a secret romance? Who could've guessed?"


The tension in Annie's shoulders eased slightly as she let out a long sigh.


"When I covered for you with the Lieutenant – female problems, by the way, works every time – I just knew I was right." Hitch's excitement was practically bubbling over. "You sure pick some interesting times for your dates."


Distant bells began to toll. Orange light bloomed against the night sky as smoke began to rise above Stohess's rooftops.


"Huh…" Hitch glanced at the light, but the glimmer in her eye was more than just curiosity. She turned her attention back to Annie, her smile turning calculating. " You owe me one..." She leaned in slightly, voice low but clear. " And lucky for you, I can put your sneaky talents to good use."


Her smirk widened as she extended her hand. "Remember that fancy party we've been setting up? I could really use some inside access. I won't spill your secret, if you get me an invite." She tilted her head, the grin still there. "Plus I keep covering for your little romance, as long as you make sure I don't miss out on all the fun. Deal?"


Behind them, the fire bells kept tolling. In her pocket, the blood-stained papers felt heavier with each ring, each secret dissolving into ash above the city's orderly streets.


Annie shook her hand.


Sometimes, the best place to hide was right in plain sight, hidden behind the comforting assumptions others made.

/
/

/

Hey everyone!

I know it's been a while since the last update (almost two months!) and I wanted to apologize for the wait. Chapters tend to take longer than expected not just because life gets busy, but also because of my writing process (though chapter 21 must have been ready for a month and something now, but I kept going back for edits) Sometimes I'll write several thousand words, then realize I'm not satisfied with how it turned out and start over from scratch, some ideas carry over but well. It can be frustrating, but I think it's worth taking the time to get things right.

But today I've uploaded three new chapters to make up for it! I really hope you enjoy the new ones as we dive deeper into the story. If you're liking what you read, please consider leaving some feedback it's incredibly helpful for improving the story and honestly helps keep the motivation going. Whether it's thoughts about the plot, characters, or just general impressions, I'd love to hear from you.

And since we're getting close to the holidays, Merry Christmas in advance! Thanks for reading!

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter XXIV: The Masks We Wear (Unseen Shadows)

---

Dawn crept over the edges of Wall Sina, painting Stohess's outer checkpoint in watery grays. Annie stood at her post, watching Sub-officer Aiblinger perform his regular morning ritual - the careful extraction of bribes from merchants desperate to enter the city. Gold coins disappeared into uniform pockets with practiced efficiency, each transaction accompanied by cursory glances at cargo that might as well have been empty air.

"Heard about Captain Brandt?" One of the lounging MPs muttered nearby, his voice carrying that mix of morbid curiosity and idle gossip.

"Set his whole office on fire. They're saying he was trapped inside."

"Poor bastard," another replied, tugging at his ill-fitted uniform. "Guess that lockdown fiasco in Trost really did him in. Word is he was drinking a lot lately. A friend of mine was on cleanup duty—said they found bottles all over the place."

Annie didn't react, keeping her focus on the checkpoint ahead. Brandt's papers pressed against her ribs beneath her uniform felt heavier with each passing hour.

It had only been two days, the Interior Squad had acted fast, their lie was almost artful in its simplicity: a disgraced officer, too drunk to notice the flames caused by a live cigarette, until it was too late. Burnout, booze, bad luck. That's what they wanted everyone to believe.

All the more reason to stay focused, she thought. She now had a clear goal in mind:

Karanes. Six days. Sunrise.​

The words burned in her mind like a beacon - home, father, mission's end. All within reach. Her fingers brushed against Brandt's papers, their edges softened by nervous handling. But one name stood out among the bloodstained text, refusing to let her look away: Anja Wolf.

Annie had promised herself she wouldn't interfere anymore. Yet here she was, clutching evidence that could get her killed, all because a name appeared where it shouldn't. Each time had carried greater risk than the last, leaving more unanswered questions.

Annie shifted her weight, boots scraping against the morning frost as she requested a break from her post. Aiblinger barely looked up from counting coins, waving her off with the same disinterest he showed the merchants' cargo. She set off down the muddy road that wound through wheat fields, Stohess' walls gradually disappearing into the morning fog behind her.

What had started as a routine military inquiry had led Brandt down an increasingly bizarre path - a mummified corpse in Trost's sewers, encased in a strange black substance. Broken ODM gear belonging to a Scout who'd been reported missing in Titan territory. His notes grew more frantic, crossed lines and scratched portions suggesting a man racing against unseen shadows.

All of it had led him to a forty-year-old case: the Weiss Estate Incident.

Five servants dead, officially blamed on bandits. But the medical records told a different story - bodies displaying the same inexplicable mummification as the corpse in Trost. It had seemed like a tenuous connection, hardly worth pursuing.

Was this what got Brandt killed?

Weiss. The name had seemed familiar—she'd seen it yesterday on the gala's guest list while helping with preparations.

Graf Friedrich Weiss von Shiganshina.

A quick background check revealed he was one of the many displaced nobles from Wall Maria. Now a military doctor under the Garrison Regiment.

The forged invitations she'd made for Hitch's request now seemed less of an annoyance and more of an opportunity—though pursuing it meant risk.

The man in the black hat and his Interior Squad's involvement suggested this went higher, all the way to the king himself.

Her fingers closed against the two ornate invitations tucked between the pages. For a moment, she hesitated, the weight of the decision settling over her.

She could just walk away, discard it all—let these damned papers burn away with the morning fog, leaving Brandt's mess behind. Focus on her mission. On getting home safely to her father.

But would it be enough to satisfy them? Their mission was long overdue, this wasn't only her last opportunity to ensure Anja's safety, there were valuable prospects…

Understanding the Interior Squad's interest in the case might reveal valuable intelligence. Yet every time she contemplated pulling away, an unfamiliar tightness gripped her chest, one that had nothing to do with tactical advantage.

Deliberate footsteps broke the wheat field's silence. Annie's muscles tensed as she continued walking, measuring each step as she tracked the sound's approach through thinning fog. Too casual for Interior Squad, too confident for a merchant.

"Annie!" Her steps faltered. Hitch.

"Thought I'd find you out here." Hitch approached with her characteristic smug grin. "It's like you're trying to avoid me. Came to see your secret someone? You've got that look again."

"Had an early shift," Annie replied flatly.

"Oh yes, sure." Hitch planted herself directly in Annie's path, her smirk widening. "Now, it's three days until the gala and I'm getting nervous. You know how loose my tongue gets when I'm anxious..."

Annie met her gaze evenly, reaching into her jacket. Her fingers brushed past Brandt's papers to pull out one of the ornate envelopes. "Here. You'll be Lady Sorglos."

Hitch snatched the invitation, running her fingers over the raised seal with undisguised glee. "Is this legit?" She looked up, then quickly shook her head. "You know what? Don't even answer that. I don't want to know." Her grin turned sly. "Was starting to think you wouldn't honor our deal."

Annie turned back toward the walls. "We should return."

"Sure." Hitch tucked the envelope safely inside her jacket, stepping beside Annie. "Got one for yourself too?"

A slight tilt of her head.

"I don't get it. After all that talk about pointless noble gatherings." Hitch's voice carried that particular tone suggesting she'd solved some great mystery. "Unless... Don't tell me he's a noble!"

Annie kept walking as the morning fog began to thin. Hitch's chatter washed over her.

"Tough nut to crack, are you? Have it your way." Hitch's enthusiasm remained undampened. "I for one am happy you're being less weird. I'll get to have fun and have a front-row seat to see you do, erm... whatever it is you do to have fun, and who knows, maybe I'll get to meet this mysterious someone you're so crazy about."

"And how did you manage on your end?"

"Don't worry, it took some convincing and half my wages, but I found the perfect dresses."

Annie listened without comment, her mind already working through the days ahead. Wall Sina loomed closer now, the fog lifting enough to reveal its imposing height. There was something almost enviable about her roommate's blissful ignorance.

But Annie couldn't afford to relax. Anja had been invited too. She'd have to tread carefully—avoid her if she could.

Focus.

Get through this like always. Find Weiss, investigate, don't blow your cover, then wait for Karanes. Simple.

A gasp. "Is he going to—" Hitch's voice cut through her thoughts.

Annie's eyes snapped upward. A dark shape plummeted from the wall. The impact echoed across the morning stillness - a sickening thud followed by screams from the gathering crowd.

"Clear the area!" The guards by the gate moved from their posts, voices rising above the panic. "Everyone back!"

Annie pushed through the surge of people, Hitch following close behind. The body lay sprawled on the ground, blood spreading across the cobblestones from the Military Police uniform. When Annie glanced at Hitch, her roommate's face had gone pale.

"That's... Sergeant Hauser..." Hitch managed.

The name clicked immediately into place in Annie's mind—Brandt's aide, she had seen his name in the investigation's notes. A cold realization settled in as she took in the sight of the blood seeping from Hauser's cracked head.

Suddenly, six days felt very far away.

---

Heinrik's reflection wavered in the glass cabinet, superimposed over rows of medical instruments that glinted in the light. The soft ticking of a small table clock in the corner filled the otherwise quiet tent as Hange drew another vial of Anja's blood.

He lounged against the corner as he always did, uniform crisp, that familiar half-smile playing at his lips. Anja had grown used to these quiet moments with him—real or not, his presence carried the warmth of better days.

"Another test?" His voice held that teasing tone he'd always used when treating her scrapes and bruises. "You're handling it better than you did when that cat scratched you, remember?"

That was different, she thought back, maintaining their silent dialogue while Hange drew another vial. I was eight, and that cat was evil.

"Sure it was, imp." His reflection shifted, mimicking the way he used to ruffle her hair. "And I'm sure you didn't provoke it at all."

Anja kept her expression steady as Hange pulled the needle away, but a flicker of a smile betrayed her thoughts. Her isolation was better than the alternative, but still… It was hard not to miss the simple things, the people, her friends —Sasha's contagious laugh, Armin's wisdom, and even Mikasa's quiet presence… Her mind drifted to Annie, wondering if she'd found her place among the Military Police—or at least someone she could tolerate. But it was impossible to know. She could only hope they were all faring better than she was.

"They're fine, I'm sure." Heinrik said, his expression softening as he read her unspoken doubt. "You'll see for yourself soon enough, I'd bet."

Do you really think so? She hesitated. Her silent responses directed to his reflections had become second nature to her.

"Definitely. You've got that expedition coming up, right?" His grin widened. "You might even get to train with them sooner than you think

Hange held the fresh blood sample up to the fading light, her usual enthusiasm tempered by what seemed like growing confusion. "Perfectly normal," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. "Despite everything we've seen..." She pressed her fingers to the skin around the puncture site. "Temperature dropping again. Petra, the notes."

Petra nodded, her pencil scratching softly against the paper as she recorded her observations. After a moment, she set the notebook aside and reached for a folded blanket. "Do you need it?"

"Thanks..." Anja murmured. She didn't feel cold, not really, but she accepted the blanket, grateful for the kind gesture. As she wrapped it around her shoulders, her gaze shifted back to Hange, who was holding the blood vial high, her brow furrowed.

"Is everything okay?" Anja asked.

"No... no, it's just..." Hange adjusted her glasses, her eyes fixed on the bright crimson of the fresh sample. "Your healing follows a completely different pattern from Eren's."

Petra's hand moved unconsciously toward her own face, mirroring where Anja's eye patch now sat. "Is that why she still hasn't...?"

"Most likely." Hange's enthusiasm built as she examined the vial. "While Eren's body responds with heat and regeneration, yours..." She gestured for Anja to expose the scarred flesh on her back – their usual routine. Anja shifted the blanket off her shoulders, letting it drape over her lap, before turning slightly to allow Hange a clear view.

"Your body preserves its wounds, transforms them. You don't regenerate so much as adapt."

Hange's fingers hovered just above an old burn, her gaze narrowing. "Take this wound from Trost. Instead of healing, it's scarred differently. The controlled incisions I made around it show the same cold, unchanging response, while the original damage remains untouched. It's as though your body conserves its energy rather than expending it, unlike Eren, who burns through his freely."

She paused, her excitement tempered by caution. "That might also explain why titans seem to overlook you—they may have difficulty registering your presence at all. But that's just a theory for now. There's still so much we don't understand about how titans perceive us."

Petra hesitated, then offered tentatively, "Maybe now that the parasite is gone, things will start returning to normal, haven't her blood samples improved?"

"Unlikely." Hange shook her head. "Her condition predates the parasite - if anything, I suspect it was suppressing her natural abilities."

Through the glass, Heinrik's reflection drifted to examine the medical instruments, his attention seemingly elsewhere.

Hange's expression grew serious. "When they called me to examine the sewers in Trost, before Anja admitted to killing Tius... they'd found his body covered in a black substance. The composition was identical to the parasite we extracted from her eye."

Petra's voice was careful, measured. "Isn't that the same thing we found in our last expedition? When Eld..."

"Yes. The exact same."

"But I was never outside the walls," Anja protested, "not until you took me out there." She noticed Heinrik's reflection turning back toward them, his shape becoming sharper, more focused.

"Not that you'd remember," Hange said, her voice gentler now. "You've described your episodes as moments lost in a red haze, haven't you? Fragments that never quite fit together?"

"I... I think so, yes." The admission felt heavy in her throat. Those red-hazed moments haunted her almost as much as her nightmares.

"Ask her what she thinks," Heinrik suggested, his attention now fully focused on Hange. "She clearly knows something. Might as well hear it."

"What do you think?" Anja found herself echoing her brother's prompt.

Hange paused her pacing, fixing Anja with an unusually direct stare. "I think I haven't got enough evidence to confirm it fully, I still believe you were responsible for what happened in the sewers. But I need something else to confirm the other incident."

She hesitated, adjusting her glasses thoughtfully. "The titans we encountered outside the walls, affected by the substance, showed unusual behavior. And then there was that pale titan in Trost..." Her voice took on a sharper edge of curiosity. "It's strange. titans are drawn to Eren like moths to a flame, but this one... It ignored him entirely or the Armored Titan for that matter. It just went after you."

"Could it be? Maybe it wasn't after you specifically." Heinrik suggested. "She mentioned they acted erratically, attacked animals too, didn't they?"

Anja felt a flicker of hope at her brother's words. That's right…

"In the expedition," Petra said quietly, "the sick titans didn't even care about us at first, but later that changed. They moved like they were working together."

"Exactly," Hange replied, her brow furrowing as her thoughts seemed to quicken. "But the one in Trost… it was alone. Could it be different?"

She gathered her notes with a frustrated sigh. "There's something I'm missing. I'll need to review the Trost files again. Unfortunately, we're out of time for today..." Her gaze shifted to Petra with a faint smirk. "After all, our resident Hero has other responsibilities."

The title settled uncomfortably in Anja's chest. Hero. As if endangering her friends, and losing control of herself could ever be considered heroic.

Petra nodded, rising from her chair. "We should get you to training."

"Of course," Anja said, standing carefully within the framework's constraints. She felt Heinrik's reflection following her movement, his presence steady despite everything. Petra stepped outside the tent.

Before following, Anja turned back. "Thanks for everything you're doing, Section Commander." If all these tests could keep her from hurting anyone else, she'd endure them gladly.

"Don't mention it!" Hange's eyes lit up with that familiar scientific gleam. "It's not every day you get to study such unique specimens. With you and Eren I'm having a field day! So different and yet..." She trailed off, something clicking behind her eyes as she adjusted her glasses. "Actually, before you go - there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

Anja raised an eyebrow. In the glass, Heinrik's reflection turned back to watch. "Sure."

"Back in Trost, you were the first to identify Eren in his titan form," Hange said, her voice taking on that careful tone she used when approaching a new hypothesis. "The others mentioned how certain you were. I've been wondering - how did you know it was him?"

The question caught Anja off guard, pulling her back to that moment amid the chaos and smoke. "I..." She paused, trying to put words to something that had felt as natural as breathing. "His eyes. When I saw them, it wasn't like looking at a titan at all. It felt just like... like Eren looking back at me."

"Huh..." Hange tilted her head, and for a moment Anja thought she might press further, but then she just shrugged. "Oh well, see you later." She was already turning back to her notes, the question apparently forgotten as quickly as it had occurred to her.

Anja found Petra waiting outside, arms crossed against the afternoon breeze. "What did Hange want? More blood samples?" she asked with a slight smile.

"Just another question about Trost." Anja adjusted the straps of the framework, the metal digging into familiar spots. Even after weeks of training with it, the weight still threw off her balance during maneuvers.

"She can be intense sometimes," Petra said softly as they put some distance from the tent, her hands gentle but sure on the framework's controls "She means well though, like all of us. We just want to help you. I'm sorry if I doubted you before…"

"No, don't worry," Anja said, cutting in. "I understand." The solitude, the examinations, the constant oversight—it was a small price to pay to keep others safe.

Petra was quiet for a few steps before speaking. "I noticed you lost your flares during practice yesterday." She reached into her jacket and pulled out what looked like a standard flare pouch but with subtle modifications to its straps and closures. "May I show you something?"

When Anja nodded, Petra stopped and turned to adjust the pouch's straps across Anja's chest.

"On my first expedition, I lost half my signals. The straps would come loose during long gallops." Her fingers worked deftly as she demonstrated how the modified buckles locked into place.

"I added extra securing points here and here. Haven't lost a flare since." Petra stepped back slightly to inspect her handiwork, tilting her head as if evaluating the fit.

"The Captain doesn't always show it, but he values preparation like this—and trust most of all. It's not something he gives easily, but I can tell he sees worth in what you can do, even if he won't say it directly."

A small smile touched her lips as she made a final tweak to one of the straps, ensuring everything was secure.

"Oluo's going to be... well, Oluo. Always trying to imitate the Captain. Gunther, he's naturally serious, but he'll warm up once he sees you can handle yourself. The trick is to let their criticism roll off—listen, but don't let it get to you. They mean well, even if they show it oddly."

"Thank you," Anja said softly. But something in Petra's tone, the way she spoke about the others, made her pause. "You're saying this as if you're not training with us."

"I... I won't be," Petra said after a brief pause, adjusting the strap of her own gear, her movements suddenly hesitant. "Since the expedition is coming up soon, I thought I'd spend some days with my family. Captain Levi gave me leave."

"Oh, I... I see."

"Hey, cheer up." Petra's voice grew warmer as they approached the training field, where the others were already gathering. "Yesterday was just about getting used to the framework during basic maneuvers. Today you'll be practicing formations - just signals and teamwork."

She paused, making sure the framework's controls were secure. "You're more ready than you think. Trust your instincts, don't worry about the flares, you won't lose them now."

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the field where Levi and the others waited. Colored flares lay arranged on a wooden table, their metal casings catching the light.

"You've got this, imp." Heinrik's voice came from behind her, carrying his familiar reassurance. "If you forget which to fire, I'll remind you."

Anja drew in a deep breath, feeling the framework settle against her shoulders like a second skin.

She could feel it in the way the other scouts looked at her, something expectant in their gazes.

Petra gave the framework's controls one final check, her eyes meeting Anja's with quiet confidence.

"Ready?"

---

The sudden crack of fireworks shattered the silence, their explosive burst tearing through the air. Annie flinched. The crowd's cheers came muffled, distant, like sounds underwater. She stared past the sea of faces, past the floating banners and scattered petals, her mind replaying the sickening thud of Hauser's body on cobblestones.

"Miss? Miss? Please, we can't see!" A small voice cut through the noise, tugging at her sleeve. Annie blinked, her attention snapping back to the present as the girl's wide blue eyes looked up at her, pleading.

Her mother hurried forward, apologetic. "I'm so sorry, she's just excited about seeing the parade, could we—"

Annie gave a quick, distracted nod. "Sorry... Yes." She stepped aside, mechanically opening the chain to let them pass.

Through gaps in the surging crowd, she caught glimpses of the procession - horses decked in military finery, banners flapping sharply in the wind. Brandt's documents, hidden beneath her jacket, pressed against her like a constant, unshakable weight.

"Someone needs to get her head straight," a voice remarked nearby.

"Drinking on duty? That's a new low."

Annie ignored the comments. They were as irrelevant to her as the dust kicked up by the passing horses. She had far more pressing matters on her mind.

Three days.

Three days since Hauser's body hit the cobblestones, and now the city bustled with celebration, like nothing happened. The thought gnawed at her—who was next? Was it a message? No, they couldn't possibly know about the documents. Then again… Was this a deliberate purging of connections, cutting off every loose end?

So far, they hadn't made another move.

Focus.

The scene before her sharpened as she forced herself to observe with clarity. Through the crowd's shifting mass, she caught sight of the carriage in the distance. Anja waved enthusiastically to the masses. Annie knew she probably hated the parades, the spectacle – it wasn't her thing. But at least there was a certain protection that came with being in the public eye.

The thought slipped in unbidden. Could they come for her? No, not in the open. It wasn't their style.

Her gaze swept to the nobles' viewing stand, where gloved hands offered polite applause, faces masked with practiced interest. Their refined restraint stood in sharp contrast to the jubilant crowd below. Many of them would gather for tonight's gala - perhaps Weiss was already among them, but she had no way of knowing. Even if he were, he seemed an unlikely target. His connection to Brandt's investigation was too tenuous.

The tension that had been building in her chest all morning now felt heavier. She was starting to see threats in every shadow, and the familiar weight of the ring against her finger grounded her in the moment. Maybe there would be no further moves. Maybe Hauser's death had been enough to satisfy them—

Something nagged at the edge of her thoughts. Another high-profile death connected to Brandt would be too conspicuous, too dangerous. They'd have to aim for someone less obvious, someone on the periphery.

Her fingers grazed the edge of the folded papers inside her jacket, careful to make the motion appear casual. With a slight shift, she slid them out just enough to scan the details. There it was—Hitch's name buried in the testimonies.

Hitch, who had been stationed by the western gate since this morning. Isolated. Far from the crowd. Far from witnesses.

Her feet were moving before the thought fully formed.

---

"You're not even watching the parade anymore," Jean said, leaning against the wall beside Marco. The music from the procession nearly drowned out his words.

Marco didn't look away from Annie's retreating form. For weeks he'd been watching her take these unscheduled walks, disappearing down alleys only to emerge somewhere unexpected. "I told you, something's not right about-"

"About Annie, yeah." Jean scoffed. "Let me guess - more mysterious behavior?" He studied his friend's face, noting the unusual intensity in Marco's normally gentle expression "If you've got a thing for her, there are less creepy ways to show it, you know?"

"You're not listening." Marco straightened as Annie turned down a side street. "Haven't you noticed? She is now taking posts outside the walls, makes long detours during patrol. Always writing in that notebook of hers."

"Riiight... Because taking walks and keeping a diary is definitely suspicious—" Jean stopped, realizing he was talking to empty air. Marco had already slipped into the crowd. "Great. Thanks for the conversation."

---

Annie weaved through the celebrating crowd, each step measured despite her urgency. The streets felt wrong now - every shadow a potential threat, every glance possibly hostile.

A flash of movement caught her eye—someone matching her pace through the crowd. She changed direction, cutting through a group of merchants. The footsteps followed, too precise to be a coincidence. The Interior Squad wouldn't be so blunt. Unless that was the point—to make her panic, to force a mistake. More faces appeared in shop windows—laughing, cheering, celebrating. But there—another figure, staying just at the edge of her vision. One follower, or two?

The crowd thinned as she moved farther from the heart of the celebration. Through gaps between people, she caught sight of Hitch's post—empty. Her stomach tightened. Of all days for her to abandon her station. Unless… had they already gotten to her? The thought died unfinished as footsteps synchronized with hers again, closer now.

Relief washed over her when she finally caught sight of Hitch emerging from a pastry shop, powdered sugar dusting her uniform as she bit into what looked like a cream-filled bun. Irritation clouded Annie's gaze as she seized Hitch's wrist mid-bite.

"What the—" Hitch's indignant protest was cut short by Annie's grip tightening.

"Someone's following me," Annie muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible, tight with controlled fear. "Don't react, just keep walking."

Hitch swallowed hard, nearly choking on her pastry. "What did you do—"

The silent command in Annie's eyes made her swallow the rest of her words. Annie could see the questions forming on her roommate's face - probably assuming this was about their forged invitations or some other minor infraction. If only it were that simple.

They moved quickly through the thinning streets, Annie's grip never loosening. Ahead, an alley between two shops came into view.

The shadows within seemed too thick for afternoon light, like a trap waiting for the wrong move. Annie's pulse quickened. Better one of her choosing than theirs.

"Annie, what's going—" Hitch's whisper trembled slightly, all traces of her usual smugness gone.

"Quiet." Annie's words were sharper than she meant them to be, the fear peeling away her usual composure.

They pressed themselves against the cool stone wall, the world outside fading into a distant hum. Hitch's pastry lay forgotten in her clenched fist, crumbling onto the cobblestones.

Annie's body was coiled, ready to spring. One set of footsteps. Definitely one. The shadows at the alley's entrance shifted.

A heartbeat of silence. The footsteps grew louder.

Then movement - a figure stepping into view. Annie didn't hesitate. She launched forward with terrifying speed, her elbow connecting with brutal precision against their face.

A sickening crack split the air, followed by a strangled grunt. The figure stumbled backward, clutching their face as they collapsed. As they fell, their hand shot out, catching Annie's jacket and tugging it open.

Annie barely registered the movement, her mind still racing with possibilities - more attackers, a weapon, a signal to others. She stepped back, ready to strike again, but the figure on the ground only groaned weakly, blood streaming from their nose.

Recognition hit her like a physical blow.

Marco?!

"Sorry," Annie said brusquely, the words coming out stiff and unconvincing. "You scared me." Her face had already settled back into its practiced mask of indifference, though her mind raced with implications. Why was he following her? How long had he been watching her?

Marco groaned again, his hand pressed against his bloodied nose.

"Oh." Hitch's voice wavered between relief and disbelief, her earlier fear dissolving into awkward amusement. "Well, that's one way to reject someone's attention." She brushed pastry crumbs from her uniform, trying to regain some dignity. "Maybe next time try to be normal and say you're not interested?"

Annie didn't respond. She motioned sharply for Hitch to follow, already moving toward the street. The sooner they put distance between themselves and this mess, the better.

They were halfway down the next street when Hitch's curiosity got the better of her irritation. "Hey, isn't that one of the guys from your old training corps?" She laughed, though the sound was strained. "Geez, no wonder you never talked to them if that's how you all got along."

"Doesn't matter," Annie muttered, her tone shutting down further conversation. Their footsteps faded into the sounds of celebration, swallowed by the crowd. She couldn't shake the feeling that she'd just made a serious miscalculation, but there was no taking it back now.

---

Marco stayed on the ground, his hand pressed to his bleeding nose, wincing at the sharp throb spreading through his face. His thoughts spiraled, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

"What's wrong with her?" he muttered hoarsely, shifting to one knee, his palm brushing against the cool, damp cobblestones.

Something pale flickered at the edge of his vision.

He blinked, the sting of blood and sweat blurring his focus, and glanced down. Papers. A few loose sheets scattered near a shallow puddle, edges already curling from the damp.

Frowning, he reached toward them.

/

/

/

Hi everyone,


I just wanted to take a moment to thank you for continuing to read the story. Your support means a lot.


I'm still working hard on the next part and I'm aiming to have it ready within the next week. Hopefully I will get to share it with you soon!


If you've been enjoying the story, don't hesitate to leave a comment or a like. I'd love to hear your thoughts, and it really helps to know what resonates with readers.


Thanks again for sticking with me!

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter XXV: The Masks We Wear(Unveiled)

---

Night had settled over Stohess, Annie followed Hitch through the narrow alley behind Madame Weber's Tailoring. The shop's windows were dark, its prominent clientele long since departed. Only a single lamp burned in the back room, barely visible through heavy curtains.


Footsteps echoed at the alley's entrance. Annie pressed against the wall, another patrol passing by. Her fingers brushed unconsciously against her jacket where Brandt's papers lay hidden.


Hitch produced a key from her pocket with a triumphant flourish. "See? Told you I had it covered."


Annie's eyes narrowed. "The owner gave you that?"


"Elise—the afternoon girl—was very understanding about my special request." Hitch's grin widened as she worked the lock. "It's amazing how helpful people can be when you slip them a little cash to overlook the usual policies."


The door creaked open, revealing a cramped storage room that smelled of mothballs and pressed wool. Racks of winter coats loomed like silent sentinels in the darkness. Annie hesitated at the threshold, scanning the shadows.


"You're sure no one saw us leave the barracks?"


"Relax, we're good." Hitch was already shrugging off her uniform jacket, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. "Boris is handling morning inspection. Told Dennis too, but couldn't find that idiot anywhere. Probably got lost on his way to his own room again." She snickered. "Whatever—Boris alone is enough to cover for us."


One more day, Annie thought, her hand straying to the papers again. That's all the cover she needed. By the time anyone started asking questions, she'd be halfway to Karanes.


Hitch disappeared behind a rack of coats, emerging moments later with two wooden boxes, their brass clasps gleaming in the lamplight. "Help me clear this." She swept aside piles of fabric samples from a worn workbench, setting the boxes down with surprising care.


"You know," Hitch said, studying Annie's reflection in a dusty mirror, "for someone who never shows interest in anything, you've been oddly invested in this party. Should I be worried?" Her tone was teasing, but there was a hint of genuine curiosity beneath it.


"Here." The soft whisper of silk against linen emerged as Hitch lifted something from the first box. Deep blue fabric caught the lamplight. "Lady Weber's daughter... Elise was quite particular about these being returned exactly as we found them. But what she doesn't know won't hurt her, right?"


Annie found a shadowed spot behind some coats to change, her mind already cataloging potential hiding places. Her room wasn't safe anymore, not with the possibility of searches. But here, in this forgotten back room...


As she shrugged off her jacket, her fingers caught on something. Not a loose thread—her hand found a tear in the inner lining, right where the papers were hidden. Her throat tightened as she traced the seam. Marco's grip must have been stronger than she'd thought.


Annie's fingers moved more urgently over the torn lining. The papers had shifted, threatening to slip free. One corner already poked through the tear.


"Is it your size?" Hitch's voice carried over the racks, accompanied by the rustle of fabric and a muffled curse as she fought with the fastenings. "Who designed these things? I swear it's like they want us to dislocate our shoulders..."


Annie pushed the papers deeper into the compromised lining. The dress would have no place to hide them— Her eyes swept the room, settling on a loose floorboard near the curtain where their uniforms would hang.


"Annie?" Hitch's head appeared around the coat rack, already stripped down to her underclothes. "Something wrong?"


"I'm changing," Annie snapped, angling her body to hide the papers.


"Right, right." Hitch disappeared again, her voice carrying over the racks. "The shoes might pinch a bit, but for one night, who cares? Can't exactly show up in our boots... though I bet that would give those nobles something to gossip about besides their terrible marriages."


Carefully, Annie folded her jacket, keeping the torn seam hidden from view. She waited until Hitch's humming grew louder, then quickly slipped the papers beneath the loose floorboard, pressing it back into place. For now, it would have to do. Picking up the silk dress from its linen wrapping, she moved toward the curtain, wondering how many more secrets she'd have to hide before this night was over

---

The dim light of a candle barely illuminated the damp papers spread across Marco's desk. His fingers traced the torn edges carefully, trying to piece together the water-damaged text:


A drop of blood from his nose stained the corner - Annie's warning still fresh. But what he could read made his pulse quicken:


Report by Capt--- El--- Brandt, 9th Mi------ Poli-- Brig--, Stoh--- District


RE: Incident Report - Trost Disc--v---y


The paper crackled as he smoothed it, revealing more text beneath the stains:


Corpse located ---eath sewers, --- substance unk--wn. Subject we--ing training c---ps jack-t. -----ersonal effects include blo----d napkin, i-itials N.T...


His hand shook slightly. N.T. Nac Tius? The name brought back Mina's face, her voice trembling:


"I only remember hearing Nac's screams."


"She was covered in blood. Human blood."


"She's a murderer."


He remembered finding Mina in shock during the battle of Trost, then Reiner appearing with grim news about Nac, torn apart by titans. Then Anja, carried in by Annie and Bertholdt, barely alive...


It hadn't made sense then. It felt impossible, though it was the trauma speaking, but now...
Marco swallowed hard, willing himself to believe it was just a misunderstanding. He hoped he was wrong. But the pieces didn't fit.


Se----ary findings:


Damaged ODM g-ar (Scout Reg---ent issue). Sc--t jacket re--vered... body --scov---e- in advan---- state of mum--fication, traces of un---ntified substance...


Could it be that they were after this during the lockdown? But it hadn't started with Nac's death. Why then?


------- of Interest:


E-- -i-n (MIA?) Anja W-lf?


Motive? Review File: MP-MINV-D85--104—Wo-f .A


Last seen, Northern g---, leaving in direction t---


Was there someone else involved, another Scout? Or just Anja…


The rest dissolved into dark stains, that file number... The archives. The answers would be there if he could reach them.


The memory of Annie's strike throbbed in his nose. A dead MP captain's investigation, and at the center of it all—Anja?


A floorboard creaked in the hallway. Marco blew out the candle, waiting as footsteps passed.


He glanced at Jean, sprawled across his bunk, snoring softly. The room felt too quiet, the weight of unanswered questions pressing on his chest.


If he was wrong, the archives would prove it. If he was right... He touched the bruise on his face. Annie's reaction had already given him one answer.


Marco stood, fingers brushing against his jacket. The air outside was cold, but he barely noticed as he stepped into the hallway.


Some things couldn't wait until morning.

---

The carriage wheels clattered against cobblestones. Annie studied her reflection in the window, adjusting the deep blue mask in her lap. Silver filigree caught the moonlight, drawing her eye to the delicate white flowers nestled among blue feathers at its corner. Another mask, another role to play.


Her fingers traced the feathers along its edge, mind racing through the details she'd memorized. Friedrich Weiss—middle-aged, amber eyes, probably trying to blend in. The crossed white keys of their seal would give him away; nobles never could resist displaying their heritage, even at a masquerade. If Brandt's investigation had led somewhere, tonight might be her only chance to uncover what.


"Lady Clara Sorglos," Hitch practiced beside her, smoothing the emerald silk of her gown. Her mask rested atop her head, its gold details and crown of peacock feathers catching the street lights. "Third daughter of Freiherr Sorglos, making her debut after years of private tutoring in the countryside." She grinned. "Well?"


"Good." Annie's voice was distant as she rehearsed her own cover. Lady Lina Zweifel. Second cousin to the von Lutzes. From a family displaced by the fall of the walls. Recently returned to… Her thoughts scattered, returning to the shop's back room. The papers—had she pressed the floorboard down properly? In the rush to change—


"Hey." Hitch's voice cut through her spiral. "You're not actually nervous, are you?" She leaned forward, studying Annie's face with growing amusement. "I mean, I am too, a little. But come on, it'll be fun! Besides," her grin turned sly, "isn't there someone special waiting to sweep you off your feet?"


Annie's silence only widened Hitch's smile. "You know what, tonight I won't pry..." She sat back, adjusting her skirts with obvious satisfaction. "How do I look?"


Moonlight streamed through the carriage window, catching the green silk as it shifted. The cut of the dress was both elegant and eye-catching—perfect for someone wanting to be noticed.


"You look fine," Annie said, her tone deliberately neutral despite the growing knot in her stomach. The carriage was slowing now, the sounds of music and laughter drifting through the windows. Other carriages lined the street ahead, their occupants ascending the manor's steps in a parade of masks and finery.


"Just 'fine'?" Hitch mock-pouted, but her excitement was already pulling her attention to the window. "Oh wow, look at that! I can't believe we're actually going to..." She trailed off, lost in the spectacle outside.


"Remember your role," Annie said sharply. "A noble wouldn't gawk like a common—"


"Act like this isn't new to you," Hitch finished, mimicking Annie's tone. "I know, I know. You've been drilling me for the past hour." She caught herself mid-exclamation, her mouth forming a small o before she composed her features and lowered her mask with an attempt at grace.


Annie followed suit, securing her own mask's ribbons.


Find Weiss. Follow Brandt's lead. Get to Karanes. Complete her mission. The steps were clear, ordered. She couldn't afford mistakes.


The carriage lurched to a stop. Annie inhaled sharply, steadying herself. She clenched her hands, willing them to remain still.


I can do this.


The manor rose before them like a beast of marble and light, its windows blazing against the night sky. Military Police lined the path to the entrance, their presence a stark counterpoint to the flowing parade of masks and finery. Annie counted them automatically—two at each corner, four by the main doors, more watching from the balconies above. The security seemed excessive, even for a gathering of nobles.


Something about their positioning nagged at her. Had they created a perimeter?


A masked servant bowed as they approached the entrance, examining their invitations with careful attention. Annie's pulse quickened as he studied the seals, but his white-gloved hands revealed nothing amiss. With another practiced bow, he gestured them forward.


Torchlight flickered across marble columns as they passed beneath carved stone archways. The foyer opened before them, draped in gilt and shadow. Annie mapped each detail: main stairs splitting left and right, servants' corridors partially hidden behind tapestries, three visible exits on the ground floor.


More masked servants moved through the crowd with practiced grace, their black and silver attire marking them as clearly as any uniform. But something about their movements caught Annie's eye - too precise, too aware. Guards in disguise?


"Oh my..." Hitch breathed, her grip tightening on Annie's arm as the ballroom doors swept apart. Sound and light spilled out—crystal chandeliers casting prismatic light across a sea of masks below, music weaving through the air. "It's like something from a story..."


Annie's attention sharpened immediately. The ballroom's design offered multiple elevated viewing positions - a staircase leading to the upper gallery, private boxes positioned for optimal observation. Someone had to be watching very carefully.


A cluster of masked figures drew her eye—nobles gathered around someone whose bearing commanded attention despite their concealed features. The way other guests moved around them, maintaining a careful distance, suggested more than mere social deference.


She started to move, but Hitch's grip remained firm as they went down the stairs.


"Dance first," Hitch murmured, her voice carrying a hint of warning beneath its playful tone. "We can't just stand here staring. People will notice."


She was right. Already a few curious glances were being cast their way—new faces at these gatherings always drew attention. A servant appeared with a silver tray of wine, and Annie accepted a glass, using the moment to compose herself.


The servant's sleeve pulled back slightly as he offered the tray. A glimpse of familiar calluses on his hand - the kind that came from ODM gear straps.


A flash of movement near the stairs caught her attention. She set her glass down, but before she could move—


"Well now, what do we have here?"


The voice made her blood run cold. A tall figure in a tailcoat, wearing a black wolf mask stood before them, his bow carrying a theatrical mockery of noble grace.


"Ladies. Care for a dance?"


"Of course!" Hitch began to step forward, but Annie's hand shot out.


"My friend," Annie fought to keep her voice steady, "has already promised her first dance to another gentleman."


"Such a shame," he drawled, dropping all pretense of noble accent. His hand closed around Annie's wrist with casual brutality. "Then you'll have to do instead, won't ya?"


Annie's heart hammered against her ribs as he guided her through the steps. Something about his presence, the way he moved—like a predator playing with its prey. Gray eyes studied her through the mask's eyeholes, missing nothing.


"Ya know what's funny 'bout masked balls?" He leaned closer, he'd dropped his mock noble accent entirely, his words slipping into something darker. "Everyone's so busy pretendin' to be someone else, they forget to watch how they move." His grip tightened fractionally on her waist. "Military training leaves its marks, don't it... Lady...?"


"Zweifel," she supplied, the lie burning in her throat as recognition hit. The Interior Squad's enforcer. Here. Now.


He tilted his head, studying her with almost playful malice. "Those are some interesting eyes you got there, Lady Zweifel. Have we met be—"


"Sir." A woman appeared beside them, her raven mask framing cold blue eyes. "You're needed elsewhere." Though softly spoken, her words carried steel.


"Always spoiling my fun, Caven." He released Annie with an exaggerated flourish, his casual movements somehow more threatening than any overt gesture. "Let's continue our dance later, Lady Zweifel."


Annie watched them disappear into the crowd, forcing herself to breathe evenly. The Interior Squad's presence changed everything. She needed to find Weiss fast, before—


"Are you alright?" Hitch's concerned voice barely registered.


Annie managed a slight nod. Hitch studied her for a moment, then tugged playfully at her arm.


"Come on, you can't look this miserable at a party," Hitch said, her emerald silk rustling as she pulled Annie toward the center of the room. "My mother—I mean, Lady Sorglos would be absolutely scandalized." She affected an exaggerated accent, drawing a reluctant twitch of Annie's lips.


But Annie's attention was already drifting across the ballroom, eyes flicking from one face to the next behind their ornate masks. She moved closer, her steps casual, a practiced part of the dance. Then she spotted him—an owl-masked figure, his movements slightly off-kilter. He lingered near each group of nobles, gaze sharp but quickly shifting as if he were searching for something or someone.


The way he kept glancing at the doors, the tremor in his hands as he accepted a glass of wine – This man wasn't just nervous. He was terrified.


As he turned to scan the next cluster of guests, Annie closed the distance just enough. When he glanced away, she noticed the faint gleam of a signet ring on his hand—the crossed keys of House Weiss—before he moved on again, his urgency barely masked.


Hitch, still chatting with a nearby noble, caught sight of Annie's subtle shift in focus, glancing between her and the movements in the room.


"Lady Clara!" A young man in a silver griffin mask approached with a flourishing bow. "I believe you promised me a dance?"


Hitch's eyes lit up. "Did I?" She glanced at Annie. "Will you be—"


"Go," Annie said, already plotting her path through the crowd. Hitch hesitated only a moment before allowing herself to be swept into the dance, her laugh carrying over the music.


She turned carefully. Through the crowd, she tracked Weiss moving between groups with growing urgency. But near one of the marble columns, a group of nobles had gathered around a fox-masked man. Despite his fine attire, he held himself with unmistakable military bearing.


"—departure from Karanes within the week." The words cut through the music, stopping Annie mid-step. "The eastern route will take longer, but with Trost still in ruins..."


"Longer?" A woman dripping in diamonds scoffed. "In my experience, that means dangerous. As if your Regiment's mortality rate wasn't appalling enough, now you want to take the long way to Shiganshina?"


Annie moved closer, keeping her wine glass raised as cover. Weiss had paused near a cluster of dancers, his owl mask turning sharply as more 'servants' appeared at the room's edges. He was being observed.


"We have capable soldiers," the fox-masked man's voice carried quiet authority. "Particularly some recent additions that have exceeded all expectations." His eyes swept the gathered nobles. "The route is longer, yes, but with the right resources—and the right personnel—we could reclaim territories beyond Wall Rose sooner than many expect."


The noblemen exchanged glances. Annie noted how the fox-masked man watched their reactions, measuring their interest like a general assessing the battlefield.


"Those who invest early in our future," he continued smoothly, "may find themselves well-positioned should we succeed."


"We've heard the same assurances before." An elderly noble swirled his wine, unimpressed. "Each expedition ends the same way. The Scout Regiment has always been more skilled at spending our gold than achieving results."


"Our preparations this time are... different." The fox-masked man's tone shifted subtly, and Annie caught the barest glance in her direction. "Even our harshest critics have been forced to acknowledge recent developments."


Weiss was moving again, his path taking him closer to the stairs. Annie shifted to keep him in view.


"Speaking of developments..." A younger noble in a butterfly mask leaned forward eagerly. "Where is this Wolf girl everyone's talking about? They say His Majesty himself has shown interest. I was hoping you'd introduce us."


Annie's grip tightened on her glass, attention suddenly divided between Weiss and this new thread of conversation.


"You seem intrigued by our discussion." The fox mask turned toward her. Annie realized too late she had drifted too close, caught in her moment of distraction. The group shifted, creating an opening in their circle—an invitation that felt more like a snare.


Annie's mind raced. Through the shifting crowd, she caught a final glimpse of Weiss disappearing up the stairs. "My family's ancestral lands are near Wall Maria," she said, the rehearsed lie falling into place. "Naturally, one hopes for their recovery."


"Such modesty," he mused, tone pleasant but appraising. "A natural interest to many, yes."


The fox-masked man tilted his head slightly, his attention shifting towards her dress. "Curious... You wear the lily of House Weber. Hasn't your family been rooted in Stohess for generations?"


Annie's breath caught, but she quickly masked the brief flicker of surprise. Her gaze remained steady, though a slight tension lingered at the edge of her jaw. "The Webers were kind enough to assist with tonight's attire," she said smoothly, her voice calm, faintly laced with an apologetic note. "Given our reduced circumstances since the fall, it was... a necessary arrangement."


Something shifted in his posture—the slightest tell that her quick thinking had disrupted some calculation.


"I apologize for my presumption," the fox mask gleamed as he studied her. "Perhaps we could discuss your family's former holdings another time."


"Of course." Annie dipped into a careful curtsy. "You must excuse me, a friend is expecting me."


As she withdrew, she felt the man's attention follow her through the crowd. She'd revealed too much by lingering, but there was no time to worry about that now. Not when Weiss had disappeared upstairs, acting like a man who'd seen his own ghost.


Annie ascended the marble staircase with measured steps, each movement calculated to appear casual. The upper gallery stretched before her, its shadows deeper than those below. Through three separate rooms she tracked him—watching as he checked corners, doubled back, nearly collided with other guests in his distraction.


She found him in one of the viewing boxes overlooking the ballroom, the music and chatter muffled in the background, set back from the main gallery with heavy curtains partially drawn.


Annie watched from the shadows as Weiss paced the small space like a caged animal, alternating between railing and door. His owl mask lay discarded beside an untouched glass of wine, revealing a face lined with exhaustion. His signet ring caught the light as he reached for something in his jacket, then stopped himself.


It was unmistakable. The same man she'd seen in Trost, Anja's doctor. She'd recognized him instantly.


"Captain Brandt was investigating your family before he died." Annie kept to the darkness behind him, her voice low. "You're going to tell me what's your part in all this, Dr Weiss."

---

The guard's boots echoed through the empty corridor. Marco pressed himself against the wall, fingers tight around the forged orders. His heart hammered as the guard studied the paper under lamplight.


"Bit unusual, isn't it?"


"The Lieutenant mentioned increased patrols." Marco kept his voice steady. "Would you prefer to explain to him why you questioned his orders..."


The guard's eyes lingered on Marco's face a moment too long before he pocketed the paper. "Archives have been quiet anyway. Just make sure you log any document requests in the morning."


When the footsteps faded, Marco pushed open the heavy archive door. His lantern cast weak light across rows of filing cabinets stretching into darkness.

---

Weiss spun toward her voice, hand flying to his chest. "Who—" His eyes searched the shadows desperately. "Are you from the Interior Squad?"


"No. Just someone who wants to know what they're after—what your family and they are trying to hide."


"Hide…?" He let out a breath, almost to himself. "You don't understand. We thought we could contain it—keep what happened in Trost buried. But if they've already sent their lapdogs…"


"Who's they? What do you mean by containing it?"

---

MP-MINV-D850-104C-Wolf .A


The investigation file was thin, containing only the barest details: Murder Investigation: Tius, Nac – Trost District, 850 Suspect: Wolf, Anja, 104th Southern Cadet Corps Result: No substantial evidence found. No body recovered. Key witnesses: Leonhart, Annie; Hoover, Bertholdt; Braun, Reiner.


Their testimony had cleared Anja? Marco frowned. Annie had attacked him over papers that mentioned details absent from the official investigation. What else were they hiding?


Something caught his eye - another reference number scratched in the margin. He turned back to the cabinets, pulling more files.


Anja's personnel file should be here, but the space was empty - every trace of her military record was nowhere to be found. Instead, he found Annie's file. Then Reiner's. Bertholdt's.


His hands stilled. All three listed the same unmarked village within Wall Maria. Yet during training, Annie had barely acknowledged their existence. The files themselves were full of gaps - missing records, incomplete backgrounds...

---

"The council, the king… they fear what they don't understand. Fear anything that threatens their grip inside these walls. They're desperate to keep up a sense of normalcy."


"Those are the masks we wear…" He laughed bitterly. "My father used to say it—pretending to be something we're not, playing our parts. Some of us wear our masks to protect, while they wear theirs to crush what they can't control. To them, this isn't about hiding something or containment—it's about extermination."

---

Marco's breath caught as a he found another file - "Incident Report, Research Subjects Termination -Trost District, 850" The lockdown's true purpose emerged from its pages. The Scout Regiment's secret research titans - dead. Clear signs of internal sabotage. Critical research about titans, stolen? Destroyed? Traces of that same black substance Brandt had found with Nac's body.


The timing gnawed at him. Why had the Scouts accepted Anja so quickly after Trost? The story about her fighting the Armored Titan alone... No one could have survived that encounter. Unless...


Unless she'd never fought it at all.


His eyes darted between the scattered evidence. A murdered cadet. Sabotaged research. Four soldiers with impossible stories and missing records. Carefully coordinated absences. Testimonies that protected each other.


The day of the attack surfaced with new clarity—Anja late to her duties, Annie coming to find her, and the attack beginning minutes later. They'd appeared at headquarters with Reiner, Bertholdt mysteriously absent. Then during the battle, Anja had separated from their group, going on a rampage. She was found later with Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt—the same three who testified about Nac's death.


The Armored Titan, focusing on reaching Eren. Then its sudden retreat after Anja 'fought' it, and moments later—Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt show up. Where had they been during those crucial moments?


Then there was Eren—proof that a human could become a titan. The Armored Titan, the Colossal Titan... both so different from normal titans. Both appearing just at the right moment...


"They're not just covering for each other," he whispered, horror dawning as the pieces fell into place. "They're—"


A faint creak of the door echoed across the room.

---

The master of ceremonies' voice suddenly rang out, booming across the hall: "My lords and ladies, if you would gather for a special presentation..."


Weiss moved quickly to the railing, his voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "Listen carefully. This gathering... it's all one big façade. It's meant to draw something out. Something they think they've found. If they confirm their suspicions—"


"It is my great honor to present our distinguished guest, the Hero of Trost!"


Through the haze of evening light, a figure appeared at the grand staircase. Anja… She stood above the crowd, red dress catching the light, black and gold mask concealing her features. At her appearance, a burst of fire and music erupted—hidden musicians struck up a triumphant melody, while crystalline chandeliers flared brighter as flames leapt from torches along the staircase, casting an orange glow over the sea of gathered faces below.


Weiss's whole demeanor shifted, his expression draining of color as he stared, rooted to the spot. His voice was hollow with disbelief. "This isn't... This can't be right..." His eyes locked on Anja, confusion overtaking the fear. "She should be terrified..."

---

"We know you're in here." The voice was icy, formal.


Marco's blood ran cold. He doused the lantern, pressing himself between cabinets. His fingers found the back door's handle—locked.


Heavy boots scraped against wood. "These documents are property of the crown. Attempting to access them without authorization is treason." Each word measured, mechanical. "The penalty is death."

---

"I have to..." He turned sharply toward the door, desperation in his movement.


Annie moved without thinking, catching his arm. "We're not done here."


In the struggle, her mask shifted—just enough.


Weiss froze, recognition flooding his features. "It's you..." he whispered. "You're her friend."

---

The blow came without warning. Marco crashed to his knees as spots danced across his vision.


"Your name." Not a question - a command. Another strike followed. "Answer."


Marco tasted blood. Through darkening vision, he saw more figures entering the archives. This was it. He was going to—


"Wait!" A voice cut through the darkness. Familiar, but different somehow. Strained.


Footsteps approached. Softer ones.


"I... I know him." The voice wavered slightly.


The world was fading, but Marco caught a final glimpse - a face he knew, twisted with fear and something else. Recognition flickered in his fading consciousness.


"Mi...na?"


Then darkness took him.

---

The nobles' applause echoed through the hall as the figure reached the bottom of the stairs, but Weiss was already turning away, his face ashen. "I'm trying to help her," he said urgently, his voice barely above a whisper.


A sharp clatter broke through the noise, followed by hurried footsteps.


Annie peered into the hallway, her breath catching. Black and silver-masked 'servants' moved with military precision, led by the wolf-masked man. Box by box, they were closing in.


"They're here," Annie whispered.


"Hide," Weiss hissed, shoving her toward the heavy curtains. As she moved, his hand pressed something cold into her palm. "Everything you need to know - it's all in my old estate. Please help her." He glanced toward the door. "Don't let them see you."


Annie slipped behind the thick fabric just as the door burst open. Through a narrow gap, she watched shadows move across the floor, heard the sharp intake of breath as they seized Weiss. His struggle was brief, almost resigned.


When she emerged minutes later, the viewing box was empty save for an abandoned wine glass. Annie's fingers closed around the object Weiss had pressed into her hand - his signet ring, marked with the crossed keys of his house. Looking closer, she noticed something odd about its design, almost like a key itself.


Annie checked the hallway - empty now, but for how long? She made her way down carefully, staying close to the walls. The crowd had formed a thick circle around their hero, nobles pressing forward with eager questions and congratulations.


"Hey!" Hitch appeared at her elbow, breathless. "Where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for-" She broke off, studying Annie's face. "What's wrong?"


"We need to leave." Annie was already moving toward the exit, but her steps slowed as she passed the gathered crowd.


The Hero of Trost stood mere feet away, smiling beneath her mask as she accepted the nobles' praise. Annie's heart seemed to stop as they drew level with each other. The height was about right, the build similar, but a thousand tiny details screamed wrong. The set of her shoulders, the angle of her head as she laughed, the way her hands moved - perfect imitations, but imitations nonetheless. Then, as the figure turned slightly, Annie caught a glimpse of amber eyes behind the mask where green should be. The figure's hand moved to brush back a strand of ginger-tinged hair that had escaped the elaborate, red plumed mask.


This was not Anja.

Annie kept walking, her face carefully blank as she passed. Each step seemed to echo in her ears as they made their way to the exit. Behind them, the imposter continued her performance, and Annie wondered if she was the only one who could see through this particular mask.


"Annie?" Hitch's voice was uncertain. "What's going on?"


"Nothing," Annie said softly, gripping the ring tighter in her palm. "Everything's fine."


She didn't look back as they descended the manor's steps into the cool night air. Somewhere in the darkness, bells began to toll midnight.


The carriage ride passed in silence, Hitch mercifully too tired to press further questions. Annie stared out the window, her thumb tracing the ring's pattern. Weiss's words echoed in her mind: "Please, help her." What had they seen in Anja that terrified them so much?


Questions piled upon questions. The Scout Regiment, the Interior Squad, even the king himself - all circling around Anja. And now this impostor. What had they done to her? Where was the real Anja?


Annie closed her eyes, remembering the amber-eyed stranger wearing her friend's face. It wouldn't be long until Karanes. Whatever answers waited in Weiss's home would have to wait -she had a mission to complete.

---

Two days later…


Morning mist clung to the outer walls, turning the world beyond into a gray void. Anja adjusted the straps of her framework, the familiar weight settling against her shoulders as she checked her gear one final time. Around her, the expedition's vanguard made their own preparations in silence.


Petra's voice carried softly from behind. "Framework secure?"


Anja turned, noting how Petra's eyes darted to the control mechanisms, checking them herself despite Anja's nod. There was something different in her demeanor - not just caution, but something deeper. Guilt? Every time their eyes met, Petra would look away first.


"Did you enjoy your time with your family?" Anja asked.


"Yeah..." Petra's hands stilled on the framework's straps, a strand of ginger hair falling loose as she leaned in to check a buckle. "It was good to see them." The wordas came out flat, missing their usual warmth. Her fingers trembled slightly.


She didn't elaborate further. Heinrik watched over her with concern. "Maybe she had a bad day…" he said softly. "But that's fine - we're going home." He smiled.


Up ahead, Anja and Petra led the vanguard, the others trailing behind in formation, maintaining a subtle but deliberate distance. That would only lenghten when they moved outside. The isolation felt methodical, planned.


Before Anja could dwell on Petra's changed demeanor, orders came from the wall above. Its mechanism groaned to life, the massive doors started to lift, raising dust.


"Stick to your orders," Petra said, her voice taking on an edge of urgency. "Don't go too far from me unless I tell you so, okay?"


"Scout ahead, identify threats before they reach the formation," Anja recited. "Avoid detection." The words felt hollow, practiced. Was that all she was to them now? A tool to be aimed?


Anja nodded, trying to read the unfamiliar tension in Petra's face. "I understand…"


A ray of sunlight painted the clouds ahead in shades of blood and gold. Anja turned in her saddle, searching the gathering formation behind them for familiar faces - Eren, Mikasa, Armin - but the morning haze revealed only shadowed shapes and the glint of gear.


"Look at them all," Heinrik whispered, his reflection rippling across polished gear and windows. "They are counting on us. Don't worry, if you get lost I know the way."


Commander Erwin's voice cut through the mist like thunder, his figure raising a sword high: "The 57th Expedition begins now! Forward!"


The walls of Karanes fell away behind them as they entered titan territory. Ahead lay only mist and monsters.


"You've got this, imp," Heinrik whispered from somewhere beyond sight. But for the first time, Anja wasn't sure she believed him.

/

/

/

Thank you all for following this story! After this chapter we're entering a new arc, things might start to speed up a little more with it. I've included some artwork depicting the masquerade scene, hope you enjoyed it! See you for the next one!

 

[Fran Gark]

Chapter XXVI: The Long Road Home

---

Annie's hands trembled as she undid her hair in front of the cracked mirror. The candlelight cast strange shadows across her reflection, making her appear both smaller and larger than she was. She splashed water on her face, watching droplets trail down her cheeks.


In the back of her mind, she could hear the rhythmic thud of fists against wood, feel the ache in her knuckles, already bleeding from countless hours of training. Her father's voice, stern:


"Again. Until it becomes instinct."


Her breath came in shallow gasps. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe slower, deeper. The way he had taught her.


She remembered sitting in the grass that smelled of summer, watching the sun paint the sky in shades of amber and gold.


A different moment surfaced—Anja's arms around her, steady and grounding, a presence that made her forget, just for a moment, what she was and what she had to become.


Where are you now? What have they done to you?


Annie's fingers found Weiss's ring, tracing the lines around the crossed keys emblazoned on it.


"There's always something worth fighting for," she had said once, her voice carrying that quiet intensity that made Annie's certainties waver. "As long as there are people left we care about, people we want to protect..."


Annie set Weiss's ring down, reaching instead for hers, the metal glinting. The ring was cool against her skin as she clutched it with both hands, fingertip ghosting over the concealed spike on it. Another memory rose unbidden - her father on his knees, tears streaming down his face as he gripped her shoulders.


"Annie... I know I cannot ask your forgiveness."


His voice cracked, hands trembling against her small frame.


"But... all I ask of you... is one thing."


She could still feel the weight of his words, heavier than any training, any mission.


"Even if you turn the whole world against you... Even if the whole world ends up hating you..."


"Just know that your dad is always on your side, so promise me..."


"Promise me... That you will return..."





Annie stared at her reflection.

What must be done... must be done. No matter what.





You will complete your mission.





You will return home.​

"I'm sorry," she whispered, the words meant for someone who couldn't hear them.


She turned away from the mirror, leaving Weiss's ring atop a carefully folded letter. By morning, she would be gone.


There would be no turning back.


The candle flickered once, then died, leaving only moonlight to illuminate the empty room.

---

The expedition had been grueling. Muscles ached from a full day's ride, cloaks heavy with dust and sweat. Through it all, Commander Erwin's long-range formation had proved its worth.


They'd spotted titans early enough to avoid most encounters, losing only a handful of scouts to unexpected aberrants. Now, as the sun painted the horizon in shades of amber, Anja could hardly believe what she was seeing.


Shiganshina's walls rose before them, familiar and impossible.


"We made it," she whispered, her voice catching. Her breath should have misted in the evening air, but didn't. Beside her, Petra pulled gently on her reins, the leather's creak reaching Anja's ears a heartbeat too late.


"The main force shouldn't be far behind," Petra said, though something in her tone suggested uncertainty. She shaded her eyes, studying the terrain. "Maybe an hour, given the detour around that titan cluster we spotted." Her shadow stretched long against the grass.


A metallic taste lingered on Anja's tongue, sharp and familiar, like the scent of fresh snow. Strange for such a warm evening. She finally nodded, remembering the group of titans they'd glimpsed in the distance. The formation had swung wide to avoid them.


"You should check the gate," Petra continued, her hand resting on the framework's control mechanism. The metal clasps caught the sunset, glinting too brightly. "Make sure it's clear before the supply wagons arrive." She hesitated, fingers tracing the familiar locks. "You might be useful here. If there are any titans inside the city..."


"I know, I'll spot them for you." Anja finished. The framework had become almost comfortable over the past weeks, but the thought of moving freely again made her skin tingle. A chill breeze whispered past.


Each click of the framework's release echoed strangely in the still evening air, the sound lingering longer than it should, maybe she was tired. Petra helped her unbuckle the straps as the mechanism fell away, leaving Anja feeling strangely light.


The outer buildings stood silent, untouched by the sunset's glow. She stepped forward, and for a moment, it felt like something had stepped in with her. Anja's boots crunched on familiar cobblestones as she moved, muscle memory guiding her through streets she'd walked a thousand times before. Everything looked just as she remembered, as if the past five years had simply... waited.


A path caught her eye - one that led toward the river. Her feet carried her there before she could question why, through alleyways where washing hung on lines, the fabric somehow moving against the breeze. Just like the shadow behind you hasn't moved, has it? She passed window boxes bright with flowers that should have withered years ago, the old oak tree stood exactly where she'd remembered, its branches reaching toward a sky that held the first evening stars, though the sun hadn't dipped any lower on the horizon.


The shadows churned. Something moved. Something moved? Something moved. Did you see that? It was there. It was always there.


Her fingers found the marks in the bark without searching. Crude initials carved by children who thought they'd live forever. H.W. A.W. As she traced the letters, the cuts felt warm beneath her fingertips, though the bark around them had grown strangely cold.


"You always came here when you needed to think."


Heinrik's voice was gentle, familiar as her own heartbeat. The words hovered in the air before reaching her ears, like ripples in still water. She hadn't heard him approach, but that wasn't unusual anymore. His presence felt right here, in this place of memories.


"Most of the time, alone," she said softly, tracing the letters. The carved lines seemed deeper than she remembered, darkness pooling in their depths. "Sometimes with you. Or Armin..."


"When the world was too much," Heinrik nodded. His movements were precise, almost rehearsed, as if he were following marks on a stage. "When you needed somewhere safe."


The breeze carried the smell of summer grass and river water mixed with something sharper. Everything felt perfect, pristine - untouched by titans or time. Somewhere in the distance, she thought she heard voices, but they seemed to come from above and below at once, as if the city itself were speaking.


"The others should have caught up by now," Anja said, her words falling into air that had grown thick as honey. Even her voice sounded wrong, as if the space between speaking and hearing had stretched somehow. The evening had grown preternaturally still - no birds, no distant hoofbeats, not even the whisper of wind that had been there heartbeats ago.


You feel it too, don't you? The way time isn't quite moving forward anymore.


"Maybe they're taking a different route," Heinrik suggested. His voice sounded right, but something in his posture seemed wrong - too controlled, each gesture unnaturally fluid. She noticed his shadow didn't quite match his stance, trailing his movements by fragments of seconds, as if reluctant to follow.


"There are many ways home, after all. Father found his path, didn't he? Through the places between walls."


"What? Father never-"


A sound echoed from the direction of the wall.


She stepped forward, and for a moment, it felt like something had stepped in with her.


Not quite footsteps, not quite voices. Like words spoken through glass, or beneath deep water. Anja turned toward it, squinting through the deepening twilight. The sun hadn't moved, it hung suspended in the same patch of sky, a perfect copper disk that cast shadows in directions that shouldn't be possible.


The air pressed against her skin now, each breath requiring more effort than the last. Cold spots drifted past like invisible currents, carrying brief sensations - metal, frost, the sharp clean scent of winter mornings. The shadows between buildings looked darker than they should, collecting in pools that seemed to breathe.


"Should we check on Petra?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. The words felt strange in her mouth, as if they'd been replaced with different ones while she wasn't looking.


"She'll find her way," Heinrik said, that same gentle smile fixed on his face. But his movements had become too practiced - like someone who had rehearsed being human. "Everyone finds their way home eventually. Even those who wear faces not their own."


Anja's breath caught. "Heinrik... What are you talking about? You're scaring me."


"Look," His finger pointed toward the wall. His gestures left traces in the air now, like ink swirled through water. "Can you see it? Just like that day. When I saw what lived between the walls. When I saw the marks they carried."


The wall loomed closer now, though Anja's feet hadn't moved. You didn't notice that at first, did you? But now you have, and it's too late to pretend otherwise.


Its surface rippled like disturbed mercury, reflecting impossible angles of light. The buildings around them began to blur at the edges, their foundations seeming to sink into shadows that shouldn't have been deep enough to swallow stone.


"They wore humanity like borrowed clothes," Heinrik's voice had taken on an echo, as if speaking from multiple throats at once. "They thought we couldn't tell. Couldn't see the ice behind their eyes, the way their movements never quite matched their shadows."


The bell tolled, distorting the air. She couldn't move. She couldn't—

Turn around.


—breathe-​

Impossible, the bell tower had fallen years ago. Each ring seemed to bend the air itself, creating patterns that suggested other bells, other towers, other cities buried beneath this one. The shadows writhed now, taking shapes, figures moving with perfect, inhuman grace.


"Heinrik," she whispered, "what's happening?"


But her brother's smile had grown strange, his movements becoming precisely wrong - joints bending, bones breaking. When he spoke again, his voice carried layers of other voices beneath it, some young, some old, some that had never been human at all.


"Don't you want to go home, sister?" The thing wearing her brother's shape asked. "Don't you want to see what they showed me, up there where the air turns to crystal? Where those who wear marks of fire wait with eyes like frozen lakes?"


The wall twisted above them, its surface bubbling like boiling tar. And in those churning shadows, something moved...

"An-j-a."​

She turned to look at him, his smile had grown wider stretching past the bounds of what a human face should allow. His teeth looked sharp now, too many of them. His eyes had gone completely black, like windows into that same hungry darkness she'd seen in the buildings.


Look away if you want - but you know those eyes will still be watching, don't you? They've always been watching.


Anja ran. The cobblestones beneath her feet had grown soft, each step sinking slightly before pushing back, as if the street itself was breathing. Buildings twisted around her, their walls bleeding shadows that reached with too-long fingers. Behind her, that thing moved with horrible precision, its laughter carrying echoes of her brother's voice layered with sounds that belonged in no human throat.


The streets folded into themselves, perspectives shifting like a drawing being crumpled. Each turn brought her back to places she'd already passed, but wrong - windows that leaked memories like black tears, doors that opened onto rooms that couldn't exist, walls that pulsed with slow, deliberate heartbeats.


"Anja!" Her mother's voice pierced through the chaos. "Help me, please!"


Her body turned toward the sound before her mind could stop it. Through the twisted streets, she saw a figure pinned beneath fallen beams. It looked like her mother, but its limbs bent at impossible angles, joints rotating in ways that suggested different anatomies entirely. Its face flickered between expressions of terror and hunger, skin rippling like disturbed water.


"Sweetie," not-mother called, its neck extending like pulled taffy, bones crackling as they rearranged themselves. "Come help your mother. Come see what they showed us."


A massive shape unfolded behind the trapped figure - flesh black as tar, moving with the terrible grace. Its face split into a maw that contained universes of teeth, each one reflecting a different version of Anja's own screaming face. She ran again, her mother's cries transforming into sounds that made the air itself curl away in horror.


The buildings had become anatomically correct now - walls of muscle that contracted as she passed, windows like lidless eyes weeping fluid that hissed and smoked where it hit the ground. Blood vessels pulsed beneath translucent surfaces, carrying something darker than blood. Each heartbeat shook the foundations of this twisted reality.


She reached the wall, but it breathed now, its surface rippling with peristaltic movements. Veins thick as tree trunks pulsed beneath skin that had never been stone at all. In desperation, she began to climb, fingers finding holds in flesh that recognized her touch, responding with horrible eagerness.


The thing that had been her brother kept coming, its movements a perfect mockery of human locomotion. Each step left impressions in reality itself, footprints that filled with writhing darkness and whispered in voices she almost recognized.


Halfway up the living wall, Anja looked down. The nightmare version of Shiganshina had become an impossible geometry of meat and shadow, distances into impossible angles, like looking at it through an endless mirror. In the distance, a massive figure moved - crystalline armor now exposed bone, burning orange eyes leaving trails in reality itself as it observed her.


That's when she saw them. Two figures standing on a rooftop that somehow existed both above and below her at once. They moved with precision, every gesture calculated, perfect, wrong. The smaller one's eyes held winter itself, while the taller one radiated waves of wrongness that made the air crack like thin ice.


They looked up at her with eyes that had never been human, and reality tore itself apart with whispers that might have been her brother's voice, might have been her own, might have been the voice of something that lived in the spaces between walls and waited with infinite patience...


The figures watched her fall. as the wall's fleshy surface rippled away from her fingertips. A flash of crystalline beauty caught the eternal sunset, followed by the sensation of something impossibly cold.


Impact came, but not with stone. The ground had parted, swallowed them like black water, and Anja sank then broke the surface again, gasping, Shiganshina had changed.


The city lay in ruins, but wrong - buildings twisted into spiral patterns, streets twisting in on themselves like ribbon candy. Black liquid dripped upward from puddles, forming impossible archways overhead. Through it all, childish laughter echoed, somehow worse than any scream.


A presence moved through the warped streets. It surfaced from where she came from, clawing its way out of the muck. Its footsteps left pools of darkness that spread like spilled ink, each ripple carrying whispers in a voice that sounded almost familiar: "Don't you want to come home?"


She ran, but the streets kept changing. One step she was in the city, the next in dense woods where trees grew sideways and branches reached with finger-like twigs.


A cabin stood in a clearing that shouldn't exist, its windows glowing with a light that cast no shadows. The door hung open like a mouth. A man waited there, face shifting between expressions like cards being shuffled.


The woods bled into stone walls, into torch-lit corridors where familiar cloaks lay scattered like fallen leaves. The pendant swung in firelight, the wolf's head's eyes somehow alive and watching. The flames grew, consuming everything, turning the air itself into fire.


"Home," came the whisper through the inferno, "where all paths lead."


The fire roared closer, hungry, eager. She could smell burning flesh, could feel the heat growing unbearable. Something dragged her toward the flames with inexorable purpose, its form now a terrible mixture of brother and monster and something else entirely.

---

She screamed and jerked awake on the thin mat in her cell, heart hammering against her ribs. The dim glow of a lantern outside cast harsh shadows through the small window of her cell's door. Her hands found the absence of chains around her wrists - a small comfort in the darkness.


"Another nightmare?" Heinrik sat cross-legged beside her mat, his presence somehow solid and real after the horrors she'd witnessed.


Anja pushed herself up, running trembling fingers through sweat-dampened hair. When he reached toward her shoulder, she flinched instinctively before catching herself. The nightmare's images were still too fresh, too real.


"You haven't dreamed of home in a long time." Heinrik's voice was gentle, understanding. He reached out as if to touch her shoulder, though they both knew he couldn't.


"It wasn't home. Not really." The lingering unease clung to her like cobwebs. "It was... wrong." She drew her knees to her chest, trying to shake off the sensation of falling, of fire against her skin. "Just another nightmare, right? Like all the others."


"Perhaps." Something in his tone made her glance up, but his expression remained unchanged. "Though it's strange, isn't it? Dreaming of Shiganshina now, on the eve of your first expedition."


"What are you trying to tell me?"


"The mind shows us what we need to see," Heinrik said softly, "whether we want to see it or not."


The way he said 'we' made her pause, but exhaustion pulled at her thoughts, making them sluggish.

---

She sucked in a sharp breath, the afterimage of fire still flickering behind her eye. The rhythmic pounding of hooves beneath her and the open expanse of territory around them helped anchor her in reality. Petra rode beside her. Heinrik's presence lingered at the edge of her awareness, less solid in the harsh daylight, but still watching. Always watching.


"Anja! Focus - Titan, three o'clock!"


A seven-meter titan stumbled into their path, its movements jerky and uncoordinated. Its face bore an unsettling vacant expression, like a lost child's, as it lurched across the open field.


"We need to handle this one," Petra was saying, her hands already moving to the framework's controls. "Ready?"


Anja nodded, pushing the lingering unease aside.


She used the rolling terrain to circle around, approaching from behind, her horse's hooves thudding softly against the open ground. The framework's familiar pressure around her waist reminded her of Petra's presence, monitoring from thirty meters back.


Their system had become almost elegant in its simplicity. Anja, undetectable to the titan's senses, would move in close enough to assess weak points. Two sharp tugs on the framework's cables would signal Petra to begin their coordinated attack.


She edged closer, noting the titan's slightly asymmetrical gait - its right leg dragged slightly. A weakness they could exploit. Anja gave two sharp tugs on the cables - their signal to begin. Out here in the open, timing would be everything.


The framework responded immediately, the tension changing as Petra launched into action. They'd practiced this dance countless times - Anja darting in low to hamstring the titan's weaker leg while Petra swung high, using the brief window of the titan's stumble to slingshot upward lining up the killing blow.


It fell exactly as expected, its nape already dissolving as Petra landed beside her. Steam rose from the corpse, curling into shapes that for a moment looked almost like-


Don't think about the nightmare. Not now.


Her boots hit the grass with a soft thud as she landed. Beside her, Petra shook the steaming blood from her blade with a flick before whistling sharply for her horse. The sound echoed across the field.


"Good work," Anja offered, trying to shake off the unsettling image. Petra just nodded, her eyes never stopped moving, scanning the horizon with an intensity that seemed to go beyond normal scout vigilance.


"She's been acting strange all morning," Heinrik's voice whispered.


Anja pushed the thought away. Of course Petra was tense - they were deep in titan territory.


As she reached for her horse's reins, movement caught her eye - flares arcing across the horizon, their green smoke trailing like fingers against the sky. The formation was shifting left again.


Petra unholstered her flare gun, loading and firing in one fluid motion. The green signal streaked upward, marking their acknowledgment. "Third time we've shifted course," she murmured, a slight frown creasing her brow. "But we've cleared the front..."


The Commander must have his reasons, Anja thought, watching the smoke dissipate. Maybe there's difficult terrain ahead, or something else their position prevented them from seeing.


A harsh caw drew her attention before she could mount. A raven perched on a nearby branch, its head cocked as it watched them. More of its kind gathered in the trees behind it. Something about their stillness made her skin crawl.


The birds scattered suddenly, wings beating against the air as a new signal pierced the sky - a streak of purple cutting a ragged path through the green smoke.


"Purple?" Anja squinted at the dissipating trail. The arc looked wrong, uneven - not the clean trajectory of a properly fired flare. "What does purple mean?"


"Emergency." Petra's voice tightened. Her hands gripped her reins as she turned her horse toward the signal. "Must be from the lookouts in the right wing... It could be anything, injury, equipment failure..." Her grip on the reins tensed and relaxed.


"We're close enough to check," Anja suggested. "If someone's hurt..."


Petra's jaw clenched for a moment before she nodded. "Quick reconnaissance only. We verify the situation and signal for backup if needed, then we move back to our post." She spurred her horse toward where the purple smoke still lingered against the morning sky.

---

Routine. Normal. Lisa scanned the treeline, muscles tense but steady. ODM gear a comfortable weight against her hips. The whole squad moved as one unit, things had been quiet but-


Then - movement. Too fast. Too coordinated.


Something massive burst through the trees.


Her horse screamed. Reared. Weightlessness. The world tilted-


Impact.


Sky where ground should be. Can't breathe. Can't- Weight. Crushing weight.


Her horse. Dead. On top of her. When did she fall? How-


Pain exploded through her body. White-hot agony as something cracked inside her. Her leg- she couldn't feel her leg anymore. ODM gear torn loose in the fall, pieces scattered in the mud beside her.


Screams pierced the ringing in her ears. So many screams.


"Titans! Multiple-" Squad Leader Kess's words ended in sudden silence.


Shadows moved between the trees. Massive shapes. Following something. Someone? Her vision blurred with tears and terror. More screaming - was that Maren? Karl? The sound of ripping flesh, of bones giving way.


"Formation... compromised!" Eike's voice broke with fear. "We have to-" A crunch. Silence.


Lisa thrashed beneath her horse's corpse. Each movement sent fresh waves of agony through her chest. Trapped. Trapped. They were all going to die here.


"Some...one..." A weak voice - Meyer? Still alive? "Warn... Commander..." His plea dissolved into wet, gurgling sounds.


Her fingers clawed at mud and grass. Desperate. Searching. The flares. Where were the flares? Death sounds closer now - tearing, feeding, the wet slide of meat from bone.


Metal! Cold against her fingertips. The flare gun. Still intact. Help. Had to signal. Had to warn-


Shadow fell across her face.


She looked up through tears. Dead blue eyes stared down, set in a face carved from nightmare. Something like recognition in those eyes, like it knew exactly what it was doing.


Behind it, through the trees - another shape. Larger. It was leaving, blonde hair streaming as it ran. The one they'd followed. The one that had led them here.


Lisa's hands shook as she raised the flare gun. Pain screamed through her body as the horse's weight pinned her down, but her finger pulled the trigger.


A burst of purple tore through the sky.


Help. Someone would see. Someone would—


Massive fingers wrapped around her torso. Her broken body wrenched free from the ground, the horse's weight tearing away with a sickening pull. The flare gun slipped from her bloodied hands, clattering uselessly against the titan's face.


"Please," she choked out. "Please, no—"


Her mother's kitchen flashed through her mind—sunlight on tile, fresh bread cooling by the window, the smell of home—


Teeth closed around her world.​

---

Anja's stomach lurched at the scene before them. Across the field, titans hunched over their prey, steam rising from blood-soaked grass and earth. The metallic scent of fresh blood hung heavy in the air, mixing with the rising titan steam, creating a haze that made her dizzy. Body parts in scout uniforms littered the ground - the right wing's vanguard, completely decimated.


Through the steam, she could make out the shape of a titan with glassy blue eyes, hunched over what remained of its victim. A smear of red ran down its chin, and in the mud beside it, a bloodstained flare gun lay half-buried.


She scanned the carnage, straining to detect any movement. Maybe someone had survived the attack, hidden beneath bodies or debris. Her hands tightened on the reins. "We have to check - there might be survivors-"


"No." Petra's voice was tight, her knuckles white against her reins. "We're too late… There's nothing we can do for them now."


"Nothing can be done for the dead," Heinrik whispered, his voice carrying an odd echo.


Something in his tone made Anja's skin crawl, but before she could dwell on it, Petra pointed skyward. "Look."


Black smoke signals dotted the sky like stark lines against the pale morning, the sign of an abnormal. One after another, marking the path of whatever had caused this bloodbath.


How could one abnormal do this? Anja wondered, studying the pattern of destruction. How didn't they have spotted it coming. Had the other titans followed it here?


The crimson haze tugged at the edges of her consciousness, offering the comfort of rage, of letting go. It would be so easy to surrender to it, to hunt down this monster. She had to maintain control. Had to think.


Movement caught her eye - black birds descending on the slaughter, more joining them with each passing moment. Their wings made no sound as they landed, beaks already reaching for...


"Just like the old stories," Heinrik murmured, watching the birds with an expression that seemed to shift between sorrow and something else. "About the ravens that guide lost souls on the long road home."


Petra's sharp intake of breath drew Anja's attention back to their immediate crisis. Her face had gone ashen as she traced the line of black smoke with a trembling finger. "If it keeps on this trajectory..." She swallowed hard. "The recruits are stationed in the interior of the formation. If this thing could do this to our veteran scouts..."


"We have to warn them," Petra's voice wavered, her hands twisting in the reins. "We can't let it reach the recruits."


Anja studied Petra's face, noting the conflict there. Was that guilt beneath the fear? Knowledge behind the concern?


"The Commander must have his reasons," Heinrik said softly. "For the formation, for where he placed you... for all of it. I wonder if Petra knows those reasons. Why hasn't she told you?"


"Not now," Anja hissed under her breath. The framework tensed as Petra turned sharply.


"Did you say something?" Worry flickered across Petra's face, but there was no time to dwell on it. Not with the trail of destruction stretching before them.


"Nothing." Anja managed. "We should keep moving."


Petra held her gaze a moment longer, her expression a complex mixture of genuine care and something heavier, darker, before turning back to the smoke signals. "We'll follow it," she decided, her voice tight with urgency. "But carefully. Something about this feels wrong. Stay close to me."


"Yes," Heinrik whispered as they spurred their horses forward, leaving the feast of ravens behind. "Stay close to her, Anja. Watch carefully."

---

They galloped at full speed toward the black smoke signals, hooves thundering against the open terrain. Then they heard it - heavy footfalls that shook the ground beneath them, each impact carrying across the plain with terrible purpose. Different from the stumbling gait of normal titans, these steps carried rhythm, like a massive heartbeat growing stronger.


"Hold position. We need to see what we're dealing with." Petra whispered, but her hands trembled slightly on the framework's controls. "No engagement without-"


A thunderous impact cut her words short as something massive approached, its shadow stretching long across the grass. Birds scattered, their wings beating silent retreat into the gathering gloom.


The titan that emerged towered at least fourteen meters tall, its form a stark contrast to the bloated, misshapen creatures they usually encountered. This one was all lean muscle and exposed tissue, its anatomy precise and purposeful, reminiscent of the Colossal Titan's skinless appearance. Blonde hair streamed behind its lithe form as it ran with impossible grace.


"This is what killed them?" Petra's voice wavered. "I've never seen anything like—" Her words caught in her throat, then added with a mixture of disbelief, "A female titan...?"


The titan's stride never broke as it turned its head, scanning the terrain with methodical precision. It's hair whipped around its features as it moved with relentless determination.


"Don't let her spot you," Heinrik's whisper carried desperate urgency. "You have to go back."


But Anja could barely register his words. Her eye was fixed on the titan as it carved its path across the plain, each step bringing it closer. Through the haze, she could make out hooded figures on horseback pursuing it - other scouts.


"I don't think it's seen us yet..." Anja's mouth had gone dry. The framework's pressure around her waist suddenly felt like paper against steel.


"We have to stop it here," Petra said, her fingers working the framework's controls. "Before it kills anyone else. It's moving too fast... We'll have one shot at this - you'll need to time your approach with the terrain dips. Get in close, strike the ankle, I'll kill it once it's down. Stay on your horse until the last possible moment."


The framework's tension released as Petra loosened the controls. Anja felt exposed, vulnerable. The titan charged forward, each step bringing it closer. Something deep in her mind screamed at her to run, not from the obvious threat, but from something else, something her conscious mind couldn't quite grasp.


Anja tightened her grip on her reins as she thought of the scouts this thing had already killed, of the scouts in its path - what if it attacked her friends, her comrades? The crimson haze pulled at her consciousness.

No! No no no, you can do this. You have practiced, be calm.


Breathe.


Focus.​

"Ready?"


The Female Titan's head snapped toward them. In a single heartbeat, it changed course, charging straight for their position with devastating purpose. And in that moment, Anja realized what had been nagging at her since it appeared:

This wasn't just another mindless predator. Every movement, every reaction spoke of intelligence - of strategy.


They weren't hunting this titan.


It was hunting them.​

 

[Renko]

I'm surprised that a LOT of folks seems to be sleeping on this!

Anyway, here are my thoughts and impressions on the stuff that I have read so far...

He sprinted to Anja's side, the last vestiges of his self-control straining as he gathered her into his arms and ran, his mother's final screams echoing in his ears

"I'm sorry Mom. I love you," he choked out. Then he was running, Anja bouncing limply against his chest.

Click to shrink...

"I'll kill you! Do you hear me, you monsters?" she screamed, her young voice cracking with raw grief and rage. "I'll kill you! I'll kill every last one of you! This isn't over!"

Click to shrink...

Heinrik was gone. She had no one left, only her hatred of the titans that took everything dragging her to keep on fighting.

Click to shrink...

This is stupid. I don't like this.

Why does Anja have to be Eren 2.0? Dead love ones? Life changed destroyed after the breached of the wall? Obtained hatred of Titans after said event? Huh????

The dull gleam of rifle barrels

Click to shrink...

I'm pretty sure firearms like rifles doesn't exists due to the fact that advancements like the development of revolvers and metallic bullet cartridges have been prevented by the Military Police.

It will take the reveal and destruction of the whole conspiracy and the procuring of advance firearms from Marley for such guns to circulate around the island.

Anja was jolted back to the present as the memories dissipated, leaving her to grapple with the weight and fear of history repeating itself.. Would she be left alone and friendless, shunned by everyone? Branded a monster?

Click to shrink...

She better get used to killing humans because she'll be killing heck of a lot more in the future!

Those bastards in the woods... they got exactly what they deserved.

Click to shrink...

To be fair, they seem to be quite idiotically suicidal when they decided to target a group of military trainees not even thinking for a second how their actions will bite them in the #ss and earn them the hate of all people in Paradis!

But there was no response, Connie's eyes slipped shut, his hand falling away to land in the ever-widening pool of his own blood. A final, wheezing exhalation escaped his lips, and then he was still, the ghost of that roguish grin frozen forever on his young face.

Sasha screamed, a sound of raw agony. She collapsed over Connie's body, her grief pouring out of her in great, heaving sobs that wracked her entire frame.

Click to shrink...

Do you hate Connie or something? One thing I liked about him is the fact that despite looking like a total NPC, he managed to become skilled and survived the whole story in the end!

Him dying this early...

"He's alive," Armin assured her quickly. "Where's Rico?"

"I lost track her. We need to leave, get him to safety while we can."

Click to shrink...

Wait! She just didn't show up after that? Huh? MIA?

Anja Wolf, the Hero of Trost, moved through the camp with purpose, her Scout Regiment uniform pristine despite the dust and grime of the surroundings.

Click to shrink...

Well, that's one way for her to earn both fame and that dream job that she really wanted I guess!

Anja observed in astonishment as the spilled liquid rapidly evaporated, vanishing without a trace within seconds. Only a faint, lingering odor and the broken vial remained as evidence of the incident.

Click to shrink...

Is this going to have any consequences? She did messed up Hange's research sample after all.

Mina didn't resist as they snapped the cuffs on her wrists, but she cast a final, burning glance over her shoulder as they led her away. "The truth will come out," she said, her voice ringing with conviction. "You'll see. You'll all see."

Click to shrink...

Who knew Mina surviving Trost will make her antagonistic!

Marco's expression turned grave. "Jean, you can't just brush this off. If we're joining the Military Police, we need to take this seriously. We need to demonstrate that we're prepared for the important work ahead of us."

Click to shrink...

Damn! Marco survived!? This will certainly change a LOT of things!

I hope he can fill the void that Connie left to the group.

Hange stood, her hands trembling slightly. Her eyes were rimmed with red. "As you're aware, both our test subjects, Sawney and Beane, were..." Her words faded in and out of Anja's consciousness, like waves lapping at a distant shore. "...killed last night. The method was... precise. Clean cuts to the..."

Click to shrink...

So not only did she destroyed a lab sample, she also compromised the location of titan test subjects leading to their deaths.

Please tell me that she's not going to get scot free from her f#ck ups. I hate it when there are no consequences!

And I'm pretty sure that once things get revealed, Anja will be SO devastated! The fact that she was unknowingly helping out an enemy should really drive a rift between her and Annie!

The latter will be relieved that she doesn't have to hide anymore!

I can't wait! Hehehe!

 

[Fran Gark]

I'm surprised that a LOT of folks seems to be sleeping on this!

Anyway, here are my thoughts and impressions on the stuff that I have read so far...





This is stupid. I don't like this.

Why does Anja have to be Eren 2.0? Dead love ones? Life changed destroyed after the breached of the wall? Obtained hatred of Titans after said event? Huh????





I'm pretty sure firearms like rifles doesn't exists due to the fact that advancements like the development of revolvers and metallic bullet cartridges have been prevented by the Military Police.

It will take the reveal and destruction of the whole conspiracy and the procuring of advance firearms from Marley for such guns to circulate around the island.





She better get used to killing humans because she'll be killing heck of a lot more in the future!





To be fair, they seem to be quite idiotically suicidal when they decided to target a group of military trainees not even thinking for a second how their actions will bite them in the #ss and earn them the hate of all people in Paradis!





Do you hate Connie or something? One thing I liked about him is the fact that despite looking like a total NPC, he managed to become skilled and survived the whole story in the end!

Him dying this early...





Wait! She just didn't show up after that? Huh? MIA?





Well, that's one way for her to earn both fame and that dream job that she really wanted I guess!





Is this going to have any consequences? She did messed up Hange's research sample after all.





Who knew Mina surviving Trost will make her antagonistic!





Damn! Marco survived!? This will certainly change a LOT of things!

I hope he can fill the void that Connie left to the group.





So not only did she destroyed a lab sample, she also compromised the location of titan test subjects leading to their deaths.

Please tell me that she's not going to get scot free from her f#ck ups. I hate it when there are no consequences!

And I'm pretty sure that once things get revealed, Anja will be SO devastated! The fact that she was unknowingly helping out an enemy should really drive a rift between her and Annie!

The latter will be relieved that she doesn't have to hide anymore!

I can't wait! Hehehe!

Click to shrink...

Thanks for this breakdown! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far!

Your initial reaction about Anja's comparison with Eren is completely understandable - they do get similar starting points, but as you can see, the further you go, the more you realize their differences.

As for the rifles, they were present in the story - not the Marleyan semiautomatic rifles we see later. These are much older flintlock rifles that the Military Police was shown to have. I thought since the Military Police is quite corrupt and they often sell their own equipment, it was bound to end in the hands of some bandits. (To be honest, I don't know if flintlock rifles can be called rifles or muskets or what would be appropriate to call them for that matter!)

As for the bandits and slavers, I was quite shocked to find out they were not uncommon(they had attempted just that, taking advantage of green recruits). We never get to see much of them during the original plot line because, well, it's mainly focused on the story, but there are hints of it, and I just thought that perhaps these groups would be even more common after the fall of Wall Maria, with food being scarce overpopulation and all that.

Regarding Connie I know, it wasn't a decision I personally loved but I did mean it when I said I wanted the story to have real cause and effect , or at least as real as I can manage.

So that naturally brings us to consequences, and rest assured, there are consequences, even small minor actions can have consequences I've always loved this concept in the original story so I made sure to implement it here. Even if some consequences are not readily apparent.

Rest assured, Rico is alive, she just hasn't crossed paths with any of the other characters during a story moment, she might make another appearance soon alongside someone else(if the story takes us there that is)

And yes, Marco and Mina surviving will have some consequences as well as influence certain events.

I'm particularly intrigued by your thoughts on the Annie/Anja dynamic. Without spoiling anything their relationship is more complex than what initially appears. If you have just reached chapter 18, you are in for a treat if you continue.

I hope you keep sharing your thoughts as you read further! You have great attention to detail and there's much more to uncover. Sometimes things aren't quite what they seem and no character holds the full truth(the story has limited pov), I look forward to seeing your reactions as more of the story unfolds. A minor piece of advice about it is to pay attention to small details. You may start noticing a lot of things, or just going back and reading a few things back, but even if you don't its alright they should just help show more pieces of the plot that will be uncovered as we go anyway. So, happy reading!