Author: Tyler Trieschock & Andrew Sudomerski | Banner: Dao Zang Moua
Rome – 25 A.T.
An all encompassing silence grasped the dead metropolis. Birds chirped to break the emptiness, the wind blew across rotting structures making the occasional creak, but the usual buzz of humanity which called the city home for thousands of years no longer captivated its sprawling landscape. As the birthplace of western civilization, the lone man who walked the cities’ ruined streets hoped to find some proverbial pulse of humanity left, yet like so many metropolitan landscapes which he passed through, nothing remained of the inhabitants.
Not even their destroyers.
Sliding thick fingers through short, silver blonde hair, Kubal vented palpable frustration upon reaching the famed Colosseum. Cars, containers, and other hastily gathered material lined its outer wall; however, the attempted reinforcement of roman stone could not hide the massive pile of rubble from a cave in. Whether it was intentionally destroyed by outside factors or an accident mattered little, the result was surely immediate and catastrophic to those which sheltered within its walls for safety.
“Weak,” Kubal muttered, his teeth grinding in fury as he approached the fallen wall.
No longer beleaguered by the idealistic burdens of would-be heroes or the constant incursions of kaiju, Kubal traveled across Asia in hope of finding another settlement, another group of survivors that could carry the same elusive genetic properties he possessed. He was the first of his kind and his worst nightmare seemingly became more evident with every passing day of his trek.
He was the first and last Titan shifter.
A shake of the man’s head banished the thought and a stoic expression returned to Kubal.
He couldn’t dwell, he needed to keep searching. He’d find another shifter and with it, a cure for his Titan. No matter the cost.
Fingers dug into solid stone. Grunts of exertion echoed from Kubal as he began to climb the steep pile of collapsed roman architecture which spanned a few dozen meters in height. If the inhabitants died quickly, supplies surely remained inside the Colosseum. He’d gather what he could carry and continue his search across Europe for any trace of humanity. Or their devour–
Kubal’s climb came to a close as a monstrous human hand punched through the rocky exterior and snatched the man in its grip. Kubal screamed, using his free right arm to desperately attempt to peel away a single finger, but the constriction continued unabated. His chest cavity buckled until bone finally gave way, allowing ribs to break and impale his lungs and heart. Spurting blood from his open jaws, the enraged eyes of Kubal gazed at his attacker, a monstrous human trapped beneath the pile of rubble.
An ensnared Wraith Titan.
Only the Titan’s head was visible, but its large maw parted in preparation for the inevitable devouring of Kubal. A fate which surely befell every man, woman, and child within the dead metropolis. If Kubal were merely human, he’d share that similar destiny, but he was stronger. He’d killed a god, surpassed a warrior of cosmic power, and no lowly Titan would stop his just cause.
Nothing ever would.
Feeling the process start within him, Kubal tempered his involuntary scream and awaited the anguish just to come. A gift and a curse; the virus which coursed through the man’s body burned his flesh and quite literally boiled blood, water, and other fluids within his arteries to create a colossal body. The Wraith Titan clutching him would surely never witness his creation.
Kubal’s body surged with a brilliant light as he screamed in abject horror. In an instant, Rome glowed beneath the radiance of a new sun. Natural silence ceased with a catastrophic boom, and the rotting metropolis joined its devoured citizens in death as fire stripped the land to solid bedrock. From the raging dust and falling debris, a wide crater took the space where the Colosseum once existed. At the fiery blast’s apex, a humanoid of a height exceeding one hundred and twenty meters, bare of skin and glowing with freshly created muscle, stood atop the carnage.
Killer, protector, and wanderer of humanity; the Colossal Titan.
*****
Monzen – 110 A.T.
Home, hellscape, and a city at the edge of battle. The swirling emotions inside Eren Jaeger were enough to cripple any man, yet their host remained steadfast, gazing down upon the aging structures of Monzen from the grand walls that protected the last vestiges of humanity. For years, Eren dreamt of leaving the cage, to escape all that Monzen represented, and yet–
“Nice work out there!”
The energetic remark pulled Eren’s attention off his flurry of thoughts to his closest friend, Armin. The young man wasn’t staring at the town, his back was to Eren as he gazed off to the dilapidated structures running along a distant coastline that encompassed the visible known world. A world Eren held no doubt Armin wished as much as he did to one day explore.
“I counted two hundred and seventeen today,” Armin noted, scanning the pocketbook in his fingers.
Flipping through a few pages, the young man tapped some crude calculations, as if to reference it for assurance.
“Mikasa’s team shouldn’t experience any serious difficulty on their return tomorrow. Nothing that can’t be handled with you running interference.”
The positive words deflected off Eren like bullets ricocheting off steel. Instead of looking to the blue waters in the far horizon, the warrior of the walls took notice of the smoking, vanishing piles of Wraith Titans he’d violently taken apart in his alternate form, and the fresh crop of killers aimlessly wandering around them. Ranging from three to fifteen meters in height, the new humanoid scavengers moved without care for the dead, instinctively searching for prey without any hint of deviation.
“You think someone is still spawning them? Keeping us caged?”
Armin’s attention immediately shifted to his friend, his grin retreating from waves of tangible thought.
“Always possible, but I have my doubts,” Armin refuted. “I mean, after we found what was in your dad’s cellar, I think it’s more likely there are just millions, possibly billions of them out there. Assuming we took out a few hundred a day it’d take–” Armin paused, processing the mental math in his head with relative ease, “tens of thousands of years if the worst proved true, but only a few decades if I’m overestimating.”
Armin’s comment once again deflected off Eren, who instead flashed back to the day after Kubal and Shikishima’s deaths, when he entered his father’s cellar with his scout regiment comrades. Beside his friends, he relished the moment of discovery, to understand the origin of the Titans and seemingly all the horrors of the universe, but every answer left him bitter. The unrelenting evil bearing down on his home was nothing more than what Shikishima described.
‘Infected people from a virus that burned itself out a century ago.’
The serum that was forcibly injected into his body by his own father, nothing more than his parent trying to replicate the pieced-together works of men long since dead. Whether the liquid pumped into his blood gifted him his Titan Shifting ability or was the ineffective last hope of a man whose mind had long since shattered mattered little with no other formula to test. This left the meager vestiges of humanity little to do against the surly, overridden world they resided upon but to desperately claw back every inch from the carnivorous scourge.
“Hey, cheer up.” A reassuring hand placed itself upon Eren’s right shoulder, cracking the hopelessness festering within. “You know what Hange sent Mikasa’s team to scout, right? An old world fishery. Maps show it might have boats, boats that can fit everyone in the walls. Imagine, us venturing out to see distant lands like we always dreamed as kids.”
The old promise finally cracked Eren’s stalwart expression. A wide smile took shape as the orange glow of the sun began its descent into a dark horizon. Clouds were gathering, a great storm brewing, but Eren would deal with those factors in time. At the moment, he relished the positivity brought about by his childhood friend, a trait Armin possessed since they first met on the streets of Monzen.
“Thanks Armin,” Eren affirmed before he instinctively dashed his fingers through his black hair as if to style it. “We’ve been up here too long, let’s return to headquarters.”
****
Yokohama, Commercial Port – 110 A.T.
The smell of salt water accompanied the coastal winds which blew black clouds over Mikasa Ackerman. Every moment the woman soared weightlessly above her targets like an aerial predator, she could feel the storm’s presence growing. What was once a steady rain roared with fresh energy. Harsh gusts swayed Mikasa’s long hair in every direction, but the growing phenomena could not force her attention away from the four squadmates surveying the white, monolithic vessels docked beneath her soaring body. The twenty four other Survey Corps members holding their perimeter against possible incursion gave her the opportunity to inspect her team’s targets, a chance she would not waste.
A flick of Mikasa’s waist jettisoned steel cables. Hooked ends embedded into metal, allowing her to effortlessly soar atop the outer shell of the monstrous, hopefully sea-worthy vessel. Brown eyes looked over the edge, judging the height to match or possibly exceed the walls which housed the last remnants of civilization.
Dwarfing most structures within the walls, each of the ships possessed thick, metallic shells radiating a calming white. Mikasa questioned how such vessels could float with their vast size and gradual century-long decay.
Were they purposely built so robust? Military vessels to safely move troops across the open ocean? What other purpose could they serve?
Twin cracks marked the attachment of Omni-Directional Maneuver gear to metal beside Mikasa, drawing her attention to her nearing teammate. Twenty seconds of spinning wire finished with the arrival of her second in command, Shizumu.
“What a find, right squad leader?” the young man remarked.
Mikasa gave a simple nod, mind still pondering their targets’ purpose. “Status?”
“Right right, so…” the young man pulled open a velcro strap on his abdomen. “Hulls look in great shape. Little rust, no visible damage, but I know fishing vessels for rivers, nothing like these monsters.” Shizumu pulled a folded paper from his pocket and continued, “They seem sealed. At least they all were until we pried a door open, which makes sense right? I mean, I don’t think anyone could reach the top deck without maneuver gear, but check this out.”
Mikasa accepted the document, its plastic-like material immediately catching her off guard. Pulling it open, brown eyes spotted a long, thin island with a circle marked at its coast. Flickers of a distant memory pulsated in her mind until it swelled into an epiphany.
‘Japan,’ she realized.
From the circle across an endless blue sea, a checkered line marked the path to multiple dots with Xs over their location. Brown eyes narrowed, the path affirming her gut instinct.
“Military targets. Any weapons?”
It took a moment for Mikasa to register Shizumu’s surprised expression.
“Targets? I… I don’t think so. Check, check the back.”
Flipping the document over, a plethora of children, families, and colors assaulted Mikasa’s sturdy senses. The dress of the people seemed almost alien and the words dotting the page were unfamiliar. What once was a grasp on how the old world worked immediately became untenable theory.
“Fujiwara knows the old languages pretty well. He says that these were for vacations. That people would board them and visit places. Unbelievable right?”
Adapting previous conceptions on the fly wasn’t new to Mikasa, it was a necessary trait to lead, and those skills coupled with her gut instincts instructed her that pieces of their findings still failed to adequately come together. If the craft were indeed for civilians, then why the thick steel plating? Why the immense size?
‘Protection,’ Mikasa surmised, but then a new horrifying question entered her mind. ‘But from what?’
“The islands, do they have designations or descriptions?”
Shizumu nonchalantly nodded. “Just names. The chain at the top is Ogasawara. Next one was Faroe… No wait, Infant, then Faroe–”
A sudden listing of the vessel beneath Mikasa shifted her focus onto the brewing storm and silenced Shizumu. While rain and wind were at the moment small hazards for her team, the elements soon would become too cumbersome to move safely with ODM gear. A death sentence if Wraith Titans approached during the chaos.
Withdrawing a flare gun from the holster on her back hip, Mikasa aimed high and fired, launching a purple flare that shined amidst the darkening clouds above.
“We’re staying inside this vessel tonight. Inform those inside,” Mikasa ordered Shizumu, who confirmed with a salute.
As the young Shizumu slinked off, the vessel once again shook from an impact, listing to port several degrees. Minor tremors rattled through the steel hull from the movement, sending uncertainty creeping into Mikasa’s mind.
The vessel could survive the typhoon, as it and its sister ships surely managed since the end of civilization, but as a third jarring event shook the vessel, Mikasa felt her duty to protect all the lives under her take center stage. In a blur she was off, propelling herself over the salt-infused water in a fraction of a second. With her body spinning upside down to gaze at the starboard side, focused eyes found no anomalies between the monstrous vessel and black, cresting waves.
Then the darkness staining the water moved.
What Mikasa assumed was natural darkness permeating around the edges of the starboard side steadily crept from the ship’s shadow. An unrecognizable blur far greater in size than any Wraith Titan moved, darkened, and finally ruptured through the sea. Certainty that the hundred meters of open air between the ocean waves and herself would provide safety vanished as water soared past her aerial form, salt water stinging eyes which refused to close.
As a green appendage surged through the rising water, Mikasa grasped the need for the vessel’s armor plating just as monstrous algae-covered fingers snapped shut around her.
*****
San Francisco – 55 A.T.
Decay and emptiness sprawled to the horizon. Across far ranging hills lay the ruins of man, abandoned by their owners or torn apart by their destroyers. It was a sight Kubal witnessed thousands of times before, yet in this instance, the weight of the sight struck him with a force not felt since his encounter with Godzilla on the slopes of Mt. Mihara. Even inside his Colossal Titan form, a wave of helplessness submerged Kubal into despair that he’d locked away on his soul crushing trek. A journey now complete on the outskirts of San Francisco. The final bastion humanity would have resided within in his tour of what remained of the United States of America.
He’d assumed the new continent would contain an enclave. How could it not? The nation which encompassed most of the land prior to the Titan plague was an unrivaled superpower. Economically, technologically, militarily, and politically; the United States surpassed all, even the nation Kubal called home, yet in its destitute territory, he found no trace of that superiority.
Military bunkers snaked into the dirt like ant colonies lay torn open and exposed. Caves bore no people. Islands at the center of lakes held no residents or trace. Dozens of cities, like that of Rome, possessed no sign of recent human activity. The Wraith Titans, people infected by the wraith virus and so engulfed in their own gluttony, thoroughly scavenged every speck of land. Ranging from diminutive to enormeous, their numbers, strength, and persistence rendered humanity an extinct species on the North American continent.
Kubal’s mind, overcome in defeat, latched onto a single prevailing thought. How could humanity, all of mankind be so… weak.
The Colossal Titan’s emotionless expression cracked with a scowl. A howl of fury carried forth on steam boomed up to the heavens, representing all the built up frustration from Kubal’s years of relentless searching. Kubal’s yell lasted until his Titan’s voice pittered out from a lack of oxygen and with it, he knew he’d signaled a fresh hell for himself. The Colossal Titan’s head swung forward, fingers digging into the red palms of his hands while tremors rattled his form.
Wraith Titans, hundreds in number, stumbled, galloped, and sprinted toward the colossal being with murderous intention.
Kubal, resting safely in the nape of the Colossal Titan, held no fear of the approaching army. He’d kill them. He’d kill them all and it wouldn’t be remotely difficult. Peeling his defeated gaze off the ground, the eyes of the Colossal Titan gazed one last time over the destitute city, wishing to remember the land before he vaporized everything in blinding rage.
Such lush flora enveloped the streets of man. Trees by the hundreds poked through suburban decay, which if given time could probably shroud the monuments of man in their shadow. Burning eyes looked to the Golden Gate Bridge. Even after forty years, it still remained defiantly persisting. If only the fires on its streets weren’t burning-
The Colossal Titan’s body became rigid.
‘Fire?’ Kubal thought, unsure what to make of the occurrence until an explosion of water detonated next to the bridge.
From the depths a titan, green with patchy almost algae-like skin, smashed its muscular arms on the metallic structure. Its size, vastly superior to any Wraith Titan, and the full scope of its features struck the despair filled man with the force of a bomb.
“A… shifter?” Kubal muttered within his Titan’s nape before a memory corrected his assumption. “No… just an obstacle.”
Beedy, gluttonous eyes gazed upon a truly lucky find. Upon the red, man-made island, hundreds of humans fled like insects into small metallic structures while others fielded weapons to deter him. Such paltry defenses did little to dissuade the Green Gargantua, Gaira, who snatched a handful of the tasty beings and poured them directly into his gullet.
Teeth mashed. Jaws flexed in ecstasy. The emerald gargantua scratched his pointed ears with blood covered fingers then licked his lips and fingers clean.
Humans, so numerous decades prior, were now a rare breed. Gaira couldn’t recall the last time he’d devoured the species. Seemingly wiped out by the similar looking but far more dangerous breed which covered the mainlands of the world. Even with mouthfuls of fresh meat, Gaira shuddered upon picturing the new rabid inhabitants, recalling his first encounter.
Hundreds of Wraith Titans poured into his gullet that day. A meal unparalleled in the gargantua’s lifetime. Unmatched euphoria and fulfillment morphed into discomfort, then anguish. Stomach aches followed hours of steam pouring from his jaws and at its finality, deathly hunger plagued him to consume more. Hundreds more fell into the gargantua’s gullet, yet as the same events transpired, Gaira learned that humanity had been replaced by the unthinkable: An inedible plague.
But for the moment, savoring the fresh meat in his jaws, that harsh reality was as distant as the Japanese waters he normally lurked through. Reaching for another mouthful, blissful ignorance kept the gargantua unaware of the bridge’s trembling suspension wires or the crimson, muscle-covered fist careening toward his gut until it was too obvious to ignore.
Pain, overwhelming as it was jarring, finally snapped sense back to Gaira.
A moment passed for Gaira to realize he no longer resided in San Francisco Bay. Another for the gargantua to flail his limbs and discover he was airborne before gravity brought the humanoid predator crashing down upon an outcropping of trees.
Dust careened high. A deafening echo rattled the heavens, ringing a dinner bell Gaira desired no part of. Thrashing his arms and legs to clear the shattered forest beneath him, the gargantua arose just as the hillside came alive with hundreds of ravenous denizens. Gaira’s patchy, algae-like skin vanished beneath a veil of pale attackers.
Dozens of jaws ripped green flesh, tearing with unbridled voracity. Gargantuan arms swatted away at the Wraith Titan swarm, but their endless determination ensured that every few dozen Gaira bludgeoned off his bleeding body were just as quick to return.
Fighting was a death sentence, as had been the case for his brown-haired brother who had died in vain trying to protect humanity on the slopes of Mt. Fuji. The sea ensured safety, security from the inedible plague, and as he bent his knees, Gaira ensured his re-entry to his domain would be spectacular.
The hillside detonated with an explosion of dust and fallen debris, Wraith Titans flying in every direction from Gaira’s monumental lunge. What few Titans clutched onto the gargantua’s soaring body clumsily fell away to the saltwater below, giving Gaira the freedom to raise his fists high for a colossal two-handed beatdown of his attacker.
Letting loose a roar at his crimson belligerent, Gaira readied to beat the life out of his seemingly skinless foe. Yet glaring at him with miniscule yellow eyes, the humanoid being showed no sign of fear, merely disinterest as its right arm jettisoned forth, spurred on by a white cloud of superheated steam. All the confidence and bloodlust melted away from the gargantua’s mug as the mysterious’ attackers’ open palm rocketed toward him, outpacing his own gravity-fueled descent, leading to a collision which rattled the seaborn predator’s very soul.
Enveloped in an explosion of white, Gaira once again sailed through the air like a ragdoll. The man-made structure housing his prey and his colossal opponent shrunk as he soared, before vanishing as he touched down beneath the waves, miles from the site of his second launch. Palpable rage coursed through Gaira who battered the ocean to stay afloat merely to sink into waters stained red with his blood. The gradual realization that he couldn’t feel his legs drew Gaira’s gaze downward, where organs and viscera filled the darkening waters where his appendages once existed.
Gurgling a final cry of anger, the gargantua’s vision faded to black as he continued to sink, vanishing into the darkness of his own watery grave.
****
Monzen – 110 A.T.
Constant rain pelted Eren’s Scout Regiment uniform, deflecting off the green hood snug against his damp hair. While visibility wasn’t particularly stellar through the inclement weather, Monzen’s lack of any true population ensured the empty streets Eren and Armin walked were theirs and theirs alone. Another five years might shake off the stigma of the city’s initial collapse, or population increase within the inner walls would force residents to settle; either way, Eren felt no attachment in seeing the city he grew up in flourish once more.
“So, if Mikasa finds a boat, what do you want to see first when we leave this place?” Eren asked, hoping to stir a distraction from the depressing streets housing endless rows of dilapidated structures around them.
Armin’s pace slowed as his brain raced.
“So many options to choose and we can’t discount the unknowns,” he muttered before finally continuing, “flightless birds I’d say, excluding the obvious desire to see the open ocean.”
Such a paradoxical request knocked the wind out of Eren’s lungs with enough force, his pace momentarily slowed. The world was immense, more than likely filled with oddities that his limited perception, as a prisoner trapped in a select corner of the planet, would have immense trouble coming to terms with once he was set free. Until that day, or at least the moment he discovered such a creature, the young man dismissed the animal, placing it in the same impossible category as a fish that couldn’t swim or a turtle that could fly.
“But that’s what birds do,” Eren countered, instinctively dismissing the notion. “All birds fly. Free to go wherever they want, whenever they want.”
“Not all. I remember, before I met you, I found a picture book in some ruins.” Armin’s hands reenacted flipping a page, replaying the memory in real time. “Most of the book was unreadable, but I searched every page and found one that I could make out. A… Kiwi.”
Armin’s eyes closed, right index finger tracing the invisible text of a book long since reduced to memory.
“The Kiwi is a flightless, nocturnal bird endemic to the island nation of New Zealand. Despite being currently endangered by invasive mammalian predators, the hardy bird’s population is on the rise despite the overwhelming odds.”
Armin’s finger tracing ceased and his attention shifted to Eren. “Finding one, if they’re still around, would be finding another survivor outside the walls. Shows we’re not alone. And you Eren, what do you want to find?”
“A wall-less city,” Eren remarked before a change of wind splashed water in his face. “Or anywhere with fewer storms! No rain. No ice. No red sand either.”
“Red sand?” Armin inquired. “When did that happen?”
Eren tapped his soaked hood. “Common dream. Buried in the stuff by the time I’m awake. I’ve had it ever since–”
A concussive, metallic boom tore through the city. As an aftershock-like tremor conducted through the streets, Eren’s attention snapped to the sky. Pupils danced back and forth, searching for any trace of lightning through the pouring rain, hoping that the boom was merely thunder, yet as another impact rocked Monzen, desire dissolved back to reality. The third groan of bending metal drew Eren’s gaze to the west where the wall was seemingly beginning to bulge inward.
“The Colossal Titan,” Eren mumbled, fists clenching as a long dormant flame ignited within his heart.
Yellow bolts cascaded across the young man’s body. The instinct to attack, to kill the colossal aggressor without remorse drew forth the suppressed power which resided within him, and as he moved his thumb close to his open maw, Eren readied to spearhead humanity’s counterattack.
Better judgment kept his jaw from clamping shut.
‘Even if I transform, I’d be squashed. We need, we need–’
“Eren, it’s not Kubal,” Armin affirmed, reading his friend’s mind by the sheer hatred on display. Moving his fingers, Armin pointed toward the bulging wall, certainty radiating from his voice. “No smoke. No steam… and whatever’s trying to come in, it’s shorter than Wall Sotono. This is new Eren. We need to speak to the Commander!”
The details his friend spoke pierced the veil of anger surging forth in Eren’s mind. Echoes of artillery returning fire on the wall’s aggressor affirmed Eren’s resolve. They would join the battle in time. Humanity’s counterattack in the meantime would commence without them.
Deploying his ODM gear, Eren propelled into the air, rounding street corners with Armin right on his heels. A thirty minute walk flew by in seconds, and as they reached the colossal metallic doors which could lead to the open interior of Wall Sotono, Eren slid to a stop across aged payment. Eyes flicked from building to building until a crumbling school, repurposed for their commander’s needs snapped to focus, drawing the young man as well as Armin into its interior.
Other Survey Corp members ran by the duo without uttering a greeting or paying them much mind. Surely, they possessed orders and as Eren spotted the brunette woman giving said commands, some miniscule amount of assurance flooded his being.
Then the woman’s gaze suddenly shifted to the young men, and Commander Hange’s face lit up.
“Ahh, you’re finally here!” Her voice was full of relief and frustration in equal measure.
Eren, like Armin beside him, felt the tension build as their hands came together in salute. Though Eren’s heart was pounding, he forced himself to keep still and wait for the Commander’s response. As his superior seemed to take little interest in the gesture, his rigidity quickly slackened unlike Armin.
Hange’s hands closed firmly on each of their shoulders, and Eren saw the ecstatic fervor in his commander’s face. She was one of a select few, like Armin, that could see the benefits this new encounter could surely bring.
“All right, we’ve planned for this. Time to kill another colossal Titan.” Her right hand pulled back to let loose a single index finger aimed directly at Armin. “I want you on the missile’s transport team. A helicopter is waiting so don’t make them wait long, they need that brain of yours in case things go south but they’re not dependent on you.” Her gaze shifted to Eren. “Most scouts are evacuating the city. I need you playing bait for our new guest. Hit and run tactics only, no sacrificial nonsense, got it?”
Eren’s fists clenched as he tried to keep his composure, biting back the words on his tongue. He wanted to shout out his disagreement; instead, he managed to grit out in a strained whisper, “Fine.”
The commander’s gaze returned to Armin’s stiff figure just in time to see the subtle dip of his head, accepting the responsibility placed on his shoulders, but even Eren could see the cogs twirling behind his eyes. The commander backed away through the commotion, fingers on her jaw as her own gears spun.
“It’s new, exciting!” she exclaimed, barely able to contain her enthusiasm. “But before you ask, I don’t believe this is tied to Kubal.”
Eren’s body tensed and his knuckles turned white as she uttered the traitor’s name. “It has to be,” he cried. “What if he still has loyal followers within the walls? Are we sure we got all of them? We might have killed the bastard but they could be-”
“Enough!” Hange ordered, her piercing gaze smothering the rage Eren felt. The young man’s gaze broke off the commander, unable to meet her heated glare, only to notice the other officers staring at him with their own unique brands of disapproval.
“I became very, very, very good at finding the dead man’s friends.” Her voice cut through the air, low and sharp like a knife. “Torture is not a skill I thought I’d master, but it is a science all the same. We lost thousands in the purge Eren, and more fighting those loyal to that foolish, dead deceiver. I won’t let you accuse the few we have left when the enemy is at our doors. Got it, idiot?”
The rafters of the school shook as if the very invader was confirming Hange’s words. No one needed to audibly announce the meaning behind the distant falling steel as the quake of the school clarified the new situation – Wall Sotomo had fallen; the Abnormal was within Monzen.
With lightning speed, Hange’s right hand shot down and firmly gripped Eren’s shoulder like a vice, taking him by surprise. She pulled her face right up to his until her breath disturbed the dust between them.
“What are you waiting for, bait? Move!”
“Yes sir!” Eren bellowed before he locked eyes with Armin, bestowing his best friend an affirmatory salute of support for his mission.
Eren’s feet pounded against the aged tiles, sending fissures through them like lightning. His Scout Uniform clung desperately to his body as he sprinted out of the destroyed school and launched himself skyward, his sights zeroing in on the mushroom cloud rising from the broken section of the wall.
Once he’d gained enough distance to ensure his allies were not in danger, Eren ignited the gift and curse which coursed through his veins. His body was engulfed in a spectacular blaze of light, his scream piercing the air with absolute determination as he summoned a monstrous force to fight off the enemy of his city. Rain and wind quickly blew away the coarse cloud of vapor that formed around his shifter, revealing a humanoid that stood fifteen meters tall, dense with muscle and bearing piercing red eyes.
Eren, safely within his Titan’s nape, stood ready to halt the carnage.
Fighter, protector, and the fervent spear of humanity’s counterattack; the Attack Titan.
*****
Sydney – 70 A.T.
Decay and emptiness sprawled in every direction of the ruined Australian metropolis. No treasured landmark like the Sydney Opera house, or the millions of denizens of the city escaped the dire fate bestowed upon them from the Wraith Titan’s savagery. San Francisco’s enclave, and the walled off enclosure that once was Tokyo were truly the last remnants of humanity. Realizing his near-impossible odds of finding a shifter among the two last pools of human genes, tears streaked across Kubal’s face.
Staring blankly at a plastic-encased map of the world, Kubal marked off Sydney, the final dash on a world covered in similar failures. Desperation led Kubal to scour every corner of the globe for some possible last remnant of humanity, a place missed across his half-century venture; however, deep down, there was no denying the truth.
From the northwest edge of Anchorage, Alaska, to his current position at the most south easterly tip of Australia, all suitable islands and continents had been thoroughly searched. All that was left was to nurture the fledgling new homes of civilization and hope, over the centuries, that luck would birth another Titan shifter.
“And there will be another,” Kubal assured himself, wiping sorrowful liquid off his cheeks. “Of that Titan, there is no doubt.”
Almost as if the universe was rebutting Kubal’s claim, a guttural roar boomed from afar. Sticking out of the Colossal Titan’s nape like a groundhog out of its burrow, Kubal pried himself out of the steaming flesh and climbed onto his towering Titan’s left shoulder.
From the depths of Sydney’s harbor, the green gargantua galloped forth, birthing roars of fury as it smashed through ruins with ease.
A thick horizontal scar across Gaira’s chest was telling enough for Kubal to surmise it as the same creature he supposedly killed decades prior. The humanoid’s booming echoes of wrath also supported the theory. The creature thrashed wildly in pursuit of vengeance, pinwheeling Wraith Titans as it readied to careen into the Colossal Titan’s empty vessel.
Such a creature usually stewed immense hatred, ensnaring Kubal’s heart with thorns of rage, but those emotions were nonexistent. Killing dozens of kaiju over the last century reduced the ire to mere apathy.
Killing Gaira, or most monsters at the present, was no longer competition, merely pest control.
Gaira’s body careened into the Colossal Titan’s waist just as Kubal leapt into the air. For a few moments, sailing high above, he watched Gaira thunderously smash his fists against steaming flesh.
“Still blind to the truth. Allow me to make things clear.”
Unsheathing a knife from his thigh, Kubal plunged the blade into his gut. Blood spilled out, yet the self-inflicted wound carried with it only dire implications for the green kaiju. A cascade of lightning enveloped the man’s body, drawing the gargantua’s attention just as Kubal’s freefall positioned him meters in front of Gaira’s beady orbs.
‘Allow me to teach you a lesson in exchange for your life,’ Kubal thought. ‘In this cruel world, power is everything, so never hold back.’
From the depths of his being, Kubal’s body let loose an all encompassing light, engulfing Gaira and Sydney in its destructive radiance.
Beady eyes boiled within their sockets. From pointed ears, burst eardrums let loose rivers of steaming blood. Burning flesh covered the gargantua’s face while his maw hung open in a perpetual scream, exposing a tongue burned raw. The roar of the Colossal Titan’s explosion drowned out all, but the lack of lungs, a torso, and every other body part beneath Gaira’s severed neck ensured the wailing cry was forever silent.
Cut off from every sensory organ, only anguish accompanied Gaira as his blackened head plunged into the depths of Australia’s coastline, sinking into a black abyss that would one day foster his eventual rebirth. Clutching the cold comfort of near immortality in the midst of unimaginable pain, Gaira felt his viewpoint toward humanity shift.
For as delicious as their flesh tasted, the tall Titan’s human showcased an explosive lethality. Feeling kinship with the inedible plague’s insatiable wish for mankind’s death, Gaira cursed humanity and vowed to remove whatever remained of their kind.
No matter the cost.
*****
Monzen – 110 A.T.
Through blazing light Eren’s Attack Titan body charged into the fray, shaking the aged pavement beneath his fifteen meter form with every thunderous footfall. Dilapidated structures rattled around him, imbuing a sense of power into the young man that quickly vacated once he spotted the emerald colossal. Even with his shifter form’s impressive power and regeneration, Eren knew he was outmatched if he picked a fair fight with the seventy meter giant, but the truth was he didn’t need to win, he simply needed to acquire the abnormal titan’s attention.
‘Armin has the rest,’ Eren assured himself in thought.
Giant fingers buried themselves in withering gray structures, allowing Eren to turn on a dime as he spun ninety degrees around an intersection, lining up an open path to Monzen’s newest arrival. Accelerating down the impromptu runway, a blistering roar ushered in Eren’s approach until he jettisoned forward, right shoulder leading his airbourne charge into the emerald titan’s thick calf.
Eren imagined his incoming impact as enough to launch the abnormal’s right leg backward, sending the colossal toppling over while he continued past, unfazed by the tactic. As tan flesh struck algae-covered skin, the resulting wet thud proved far less than he originally desired.
Bone cracked en mass across the Attack Titan. Graceful movement morphed into a chaotic spin as Eren’s Attack Titan deflected off his target’s leg, plunging Eren’s shifter into a metallic bed of rubble. Metal skewered the fifteen meter Titan from head to toe, yet as it gradually pulled itself upright, steam filled the numerous wounds littering its beleaguered body. Regenerative tissue mended just in time for Eren to gaze at the green attacker and discover a fist, nearly as large as his titan was tall, sailing down upon him.
He’d captured the abnormal’s attention, but could he survive its wrath?
Freshly mended legs flexed, launching Eren’s titan form backward, evading the colossal fist that careered to the empty void where he once stood. A wave of pressure slammed against Eren’s Attack Titan form upon impact, eviscerating droplets of rain in the air and igniting the metallic debris he once resided within into a steaming, crimson pile. Yet just as the Attack Titan grinned in success for provoking the invader, the emerald colossal’s digits raised off the ground and surged forward with uncommon speed. Eren’s Attack Titan showed momentary surprise before fingers wrapped around his titanic, airbourne form and squeezed.
Recently healed flesh and bone compressed under the abnormal’s unwavering grip. No meager act of resistance by the Attack Titan’s muscles could compare to the crushing force which shattered everything below the shifter’s shoulders and above the helpless form’s knees. Even with the relative safety within his Titan’s neck, immense pressure herded internal tissue around the pilot, pinning him in place against his Titan’s outer skin.
“Need to get out, need to–”
A lowly pop followed as the final bones gave way, filling the Attack Titan’s maw with liquified internal organs while the pressure against Eren’s human body removed his ability to breath. The human shifted his eyesight to that of his Titan, watching the colossal study what it caught before revulsion encapsulated its reaction. The hand which held the Attack Titan reared back, mimicking a pitcher readying to throw the deadliest of all fast balls.
If launched, Eren would have seconds to escape the nape or be reduced to a fine paste alongside his Titan. Digits flexed and thrashed. Even without air, Eren refused to succumb, trying desperately to attain freedom even within his crushing prison of flesh, birthing a human scream of defiance with what little air he possessed before it was drowned out by a body rumbling wail of anguish.
Eren shuddered within his tomb, unable to cup his ears from the abnormal’s sudden pain filled cry. A pitiful, air-deprived scream joined the colossal titan’s bellow until the sensation of a small hand around his human neck snapped sense back to the survey member. With a powerful pull, the young man flew backward through sliced open skin into the rain filled sky.
Oxygen starved lungs sucked down air.
Grateful eyes snapped to their rescuer.
“Mikas-ugh!”
A military boot careened into Eren’s gut, launching his airbourne form spinning backward in a frenzy while the young woman sailed the opposite direction. Making out the action through rotating vision, a confused gaze witnessed the colossal’s free hand sail though the void where the two once were positioned.
‘She saved me. Twice.’
Orange light alit anew. A scream of anger boomed rivaling thunder and as Eren’s body struck the earth, his Attack Titan body materialized to meet his home’s newest destroyer once more.
“Are you okay, Eren?”
The words were but a whisper against the backdrop of the storm, yet it drew Eren’s attention, luring his shifter’s right eye. Mikasa Ackerman stood vigilantly upon his Titan’s right shoulder, staring down the emerald abnormal like a trained bird of prey. Eren forced his shifter form to give a subtle nod and returned his focus on the gargantuan titan.
As the whirl of chopper blades and a black silhouette took shape behind the gargantua, Eren placated any thoughts of catching up with his childhood friend. Pleasantries were merely distractions in the midst of battle and as the chopper neared, Eren possessed no doubt Mikasa understood what needed to be done.
They were bait and as such, they needed the abnormal’s undivided attention.
Dual warcries, human and Titan alike, drew beady red eyes two hundred and fifty feet off the ground. As Mikasa surged towards the enemy, her body becoming that of a blur, Eren willed his Titan forward, sprinting forth down a debris laden street of Monzen.
A vile sneer of indignation preempted a thunderous bellow. The abnormal’s right leg swung up, cleaving a multistory complex into a jettisoning wall of fast moving projectiles. Steel and wood rained down, impacting with the ferocity of a meteor shower, yet through the barrage Eren’s focus never waivered.
Exploding forth from the falling debris, a fresh shadow overcast Eren’s position. Green eyes snapped up where the sole of the abnormal’s left foot hovered just above his Titan’s position. Given a mere second, he and his Titan would become paste under wrinkled blue skin, but just as death seemed certain, a familiar blur raced into view.
Twin blades reflected the flash of distant lightning before their edges carved into the unprotected skin. While Mikasa’s swords were nothing more than insect bites to a creature of the gargantuan’s size, the abnormal instinctively pulled back his raised foot from the pain, giving Eren the precious second to evade the eventual footfall.
Closing in on the leg, Eren let loose thunderous blows with all the strength his titan could muster, yet the algae that colored the gargantuan proved shockingly adept at absorbing the force of his strikes. As the leg once again raised, Eren willed the Attack Titan backward with a quick leap, narrowly avoiding another crushing attempt.
“You bastard!” Eren cried out. “You think I’m giving up that easily!”
Just as quickly as he evaded becoming liquified, Eren launched his Titan back toward the leg as it began to arise. Massive canines sunk into flesh encasing the abnormal’s achilles heel. Dozens of punctures perforated cartilage. A fresh roar boomed and then, with a swift shake, the Attack Titan was flung away, a grin plastered upon the shifter’s face as the abnormal slammed its left leg down in anger.
The error proved as catastrophic as it was immediate.
While Eren could not hear the tendon’s snap, the sudden loss of balance proved all the evidence he needed. Arms spread wide in desperation, yet no structure could halt the cataclysmic fall the abnormal suffered.
Monzen shuttered in awe.
Helicopter blades whirled with fresh urgency and then, as it positioned itself a hundred meters above the target, the explosive cargo was released.
The time for the abnormal’s death was at hand.
Fire’s destructive reach raced outward as the missile struck green, algae-infested flesh. In a flash, the abnormal’s head vanished beneath a veil of smoke and contemptuous flames. While the gargantuan titan’s body remained rigid, the outcome to Eren was of no concern. Just like the Colossal Titan, this possibly human controlled or feral invader would come crashing down upon the city of Monzen, reminding the outside world that humanity would not be divided nor conquered so–
Emerald legs flexed, kicking the abnormal off the ground where the smoke nor the inferno which enveloped the titan’s head could reach, allowing the gargantua’s right arm to ascend above the chopper. As the human pilots no doubt shared a momentary-eye level gaze with their target, Eren watched green digits careen into the vessel, splattering it to the ground as if it were an insect.
A plume of fire erupted from the impact site. Emerald pupils watched the blaze ascend into the sky and just as it reached its peak, Eren instinctively found himself running.
Down a maze of streets Eren piloted his Attack Titan, uncaring of the abnormal’s actions because… Eren tried to think, to remember why he was dashing. A puzzle piece within his mind refused to be placed, so the young man focused on gaining momentum until the crash site was within reach.
Fires littered the rubble lined crater. Bodies of survey members lay scattered across the charred environment with one figure’s golden hair attracting Eren’s focus. Ripping himself from his Attack Titan’s nape, Eren maneuvered towards his stagnant friend, tears swelling at the corner of his eyes.
No…nononononononono. You-you thought of something. You’re strong, you can’t-Armin, you can’t be.
The lack of a pulse confirmed what Eren refused to think or say. Grief choked the conclusion into perpetual silence until another emotion, riling with explosive force greater than the failed missile, began to turn the tears streaming down the young man’s face to steam.
Fingers curled inward. The touch of rain vanished as an aura of heat emanated from the young man’s body, vaporizing droplets prior to their arrival. Teeth slammed together, grinding back and forth even as intense pain signaled that any more force might cause the enamel to crack.
Words were still distant for Eren, yet the burning torches casting their fiery gaze upon the oblivious abnormal screamed for vengeance. And vengeance, no matter how impossible or implausible, would be sought after. If he didn’t possess the strength to set his ambitions free, to change the world and protect those closest to him–
“Then that’s a future I can’t accept,” Eren admitted.
An outstretched thumb forced welded teeth to part before white enamel was painted red. Torrents of lightning cascaded across Eren, enveloping not only his body but the crash site with streaks of lightning that pierced the blackened heavens. As the light grew, attracting the gargantuan killer, Eren vanished into a continuous bolt of lightning before the rage exponentially growing within his heart consumed him; mind, body, and soul.
*****
20 Miles North of Tokyo, Japanese Missile Defense Station – 109 A.T.
A realm of cement and steel comprised the world view of all those standing before Kubal, yet on the hellish and cruel planet of Earth, such a home was a safe shelter for the remnants of humanity.
Prior to his globe-trotting adventure, Kubal painstakingly turned the abandoned missile launch site he currently resided within into his own personal utopia. A custom reactor powered levels of internal greenhouses while also providing light to those growing up in the silos’ protective shelter. Children studied the finest remnants of human civilization to one day break the Wraith Titan curse which spanned over a millennia.
And now, with a live specimen captured after feigning his own death to those living inside the walls, Kubal expected a cure to the Wraith Titan plague to swiftly grace his presence. Such hopes had been dashed by the end of the first year, all that remained by the fourth’s end was palpable frustration at the lack of progress.
Glaring across the operating room, men and women alike trembled under the weight of their collective failure, emotionally paralyzed by Kubal’s gaze of disappointment. Another supposed breakthrough on transferring the shifter gene failed without any alteration to the current status quo, leading Kubal to consider punishing his hand crafted scientific team.
Could their constant failures merit further chances? What were a few deaths when the lower generations could replace his current crop in a few years? Their resolve and abilities were just another reflection of humanities’ inherent–
An apathetic sigh was all Kubal could muster to his internal debate.
“Leave, now,” Kubal ordered with a grumble and without wasting another moment, the scientific team scurried out steel doors, leaving their leader, savior and captor to his thoughts.
“Is it motivation?” Kubal inquired, walking across the room to the gurney at its center. “They’re protected, their families safe, well fed, what more must I give them, take from them, to get what I…”
Kubal paused as he turned, locking eyes with the shell of a man strapped to the gurney. If not for the fact Kubal knew the shifter’s identity, the horribly scarred subject was a pale shadow of the defiant young man he used to be, of the unwilling test subject he’d become after his capture four years ago. Both had survived their supposed deaths, unbeknownst to the people within the walls, but only he had truly escaped fate that day.
Shikishima showed no reaction to Kubal leaning over his body, nor did the man shift as his captor snapped his fingers just in front of his blank face. All personality and will had been surgically removed from the man long ago, all that was left of Shikishima was what Kubal needed most.
The cure.
Stumbling to the nearby glass wall, Kubal gazed hundreds of feet down the metallic walls of the silo’s main launch bay to the two, immobile Wraith Titans at its basin. Looking upon their grotesque forms and thinking of the loving daughter and wife trapped inside caused tsunami-like waves of suppressed guilt to surge into his aching heart. A millenias worth of emotion roared for actions to be taken, a cure, but reality… life was uncompromising.
Clutching his chest, Kubal felt life deliver a crippling blow to his stoic demeanor, forcing instinct to serve a counter.
A brutish roar bellowed from Kubal. Swinging his arms back to the gurney, rage fueled his outburst and the resulting acquisition of the mobile bed. As if it were nothing but cardboard, the gurney and Shikishima were taken airbourne, crashing against the glass barrier with a sharp crack. From the impact, a transparent wall became millions of pieces. An ecstasy filled dose of relief surged through Kubal until the gurney’s spinning form summoned a crippling realization before it vanished beneath his gaze.
Kubal’s half rotation into a full sprint was immediate, as were the screams of his recently departed scientific team as he blitzed past them through the bases’ long corridors. No words could be spoken to explain the hurried pace or time given to dissuade the new wave of guilt attempting to latch itself upon Kubal’s running form. He needed to hurry before his momentary weakness ruined his one chance at a return to normalcy.
Five flights of stairs soared by under hastened feet, leaving a single extended hallway between the silo and Kubal’s current location. The leader’s frantic run exploded with fresh energy, shortening the remaining distance that concluded with his impact against reinforced steel doors. Bones snapped and popped against reinforced metal, yet the metallic barrier buckled as a few hundred pounds of sheer determination proved its superior. The silo’s doors careened open and just as Kubal, arms fully stained with his own blood, unsheathed his knife in preparation for war, the conflict-ready man melted away.
At the far end of the silo, a Wraith Titan with miniature arms and legs writhed uncontrollably. Gargantuan teeth snapped open and shut, the Titan’s will to devour pushing its deformed body farther than its practical limits would allow, yet in the monstrosity’s struggle, Kubal paid no mind; instead, the man’s eyes lingered on a woman who once existed only in the farthest reaches of his memory.
The woman, possessing only the attire bestowed upon her naturally by god, lay crouched on all fours across cracked cement. Bile spewed from her mouth as she violently coughed, gradually gaining control of her body as she struggled to rise before glancing toward Kubal, and as her eyes met his own, he felt the immense weight upon his shoulder undo him.
Arms ensnared the woman and from the swelling emotion, Kubal struggled to utter words over a century in the making.
“Welcome back, Azusa.” Waterworks flowed down Kubal’s cheeks, unable to stem the tide of joy from his reunion. “Just like I told you all those years ago, there is no need for further goodbyes.”
*****
Monzen – 110 A.T.
The Attack Titan’s frantic retreat toward the helicopter’s crash site provided all the intelligence Mikasa needed to understand who was among the victims of the fiery wreckage. Either splattered against cold cement or charred in a sea of burning diesel, Armin Arlert no longer drew breath.
Having comrades in arms die was nothing new, at least five under her command perished earlier that day as they disobeyed her commands and retreated to the wall, luring the gargantuan to humanity’s refuge. But this newest loss cracked the invulnerable shell coating Mikasa’ heart. Years of meticulous training melted away as a flurry of screams within cried out for unyielding retribution to which Mikasa unabashedly accepted.
The ODM gear whined. Pressurized air rocketed Mikasa from ground level to the abnormal’s right eye in under a second. Dual swords unsheathed and just as quickly, clanged as they formed an X behind their wielder. Staring eyes to eye with the gargantuan titan, Mikasa hoped to burn her vestige into whatever mind her friend’s killer possessed. Because unlike the Wraiths, this algae covered thing possessed a mind.
As blades began their forward momentum, the black void of the abnormal pupil condensed. Off the colorless membrane, orange light refracted with blinding intensity. The eyes’ crimson iris fluctuated with recognition and then fear, stopping Mikasa’s dual swing as fiery air kissed the back of her neck.
Vengeance continued to cry out from the depths of her being, but survival’s unyielding power checked the emotion and propelled Mikasa to another course.
Jettisoning cables to the abnormal’s cheek, Mikasa swung around the gargantua’s head, placing a mountain of flesh between herself and the inevitable–
Monzen screamed. Pressurized air raced past. Superheated winds seared Mikasa’s eyes yet she forced herself to remain vigilant, watching multi-story structures sail past the abnormal’s sides and collide with Monzen’s walls. If the gargantua wavered against the explosion, her life would end like an insect exposed to fire, yet even as the algae covered creature trembled, her titanic refuge remained defiant.
Just as quickly as the detonation occurred, Monzen’s wail petered out. Orange lightning faded, replaced by a veil of white from the freshly bare moon. Clouds raced toward every horizon, clearing the star-filled sky as if the orbs of pure white too were curious to what just befell humanity’s desolated city.
Mikasa’s eyes fluttered; the woman’s mind racing to make sense of the circular eye now carved through the storm. The power to part clouds surely eclipsed any weapon humanity possessed. If the abnormal could survive the direct blast of such an explosion, there was little wonder as to why the missile had failed – why Armin had died in vain.
Feeling the titan begin to shake off the seering blast, Mikasa jumped off the titan’s thick fur and began to ascend up along its spine. She needed to see the cause of the blast and under the full moon’s glow, whatever remained of Monzen would be–
The invading titan’s head snapped back. Pale flesh curled into a fist flung past, forcing Mikasa to evade and soar above the abnormal’s head where she witnessed a new colossal Titan.
Long, inky black hair cascaded around a body of pure muscle – toned and taut like an ancient statue. Its skin was deathly pale, seeping with steam from its recently formed frame. Its face matched that of the almighty Attack Titan’s fifteen-meter form – all except for its glowing eyes; their intense emerald orbs blazed like the fires of hell, ready to annihilate anything in their path.
Mikasa searched for something, anything familiar within the Attack Titan’s eyes, but all she could find were two blazing pits of destruction. No trace of humanity was left, just a need to destroy.
“Eren,” Mikasa sorrowfully mourned, accepting the damage done to the young man’s heart, but as a guttural scream shrieked from the Attack Titan, her own well being quickly took priority.
Mikasa cupped her hands over her ears. The intensity of the bellow forestalling any use of her maneuver gear until the green abnormal was airborne, thrown over Eren’s shoulder while it was still stunned from the sucker punch.
Sailing high above Monzen, experience spurred Mikasa to glide down the abnormal’s body. A plan had formed in her mind: to use her steel cables to latch onto any structure and pull away from the sailing gargantua. Yet, as she neared the creature’s hip, a startling realization dawned upon her – Monzen was gone, and in its place lay a ruined wasteland.
The destruction caused by Eren’s transformation had left most structures except those near the outer walls in ruins. While some charred husks were lucky enough to remain standing, Mikasa knew those scattered structures would be too weak to withstand her momentum or be just outside her steel reach. As seconds counted down toward impact, Mikasa acknowledged her only remaining option and jettisoned beneath the abnormal.
Gliding under the falling abnormal, Mikasa threaded her time-sensitive needle just as green flesh graced ash. Her body soared through the air like a bullet, twisting and turning to evade debris as she arched upward in her pursuit of salvation.
It was an impossibly long arc; hundreds of meters soared by every second. Decay in altitude and velocity slowed her approach until she possessed no choice but to launch her steel anchors.
Lifesaving hooks sailed through white moonlight, finding the reach Mikasa desired. Another series of aerial maneuvers brought Mikasa to the peak of her people’s world. A slowing descent transformed into a pained slide, her ODM gear fragmenting upon impact.
Mikasa tried to ascend, to help her dear friend, but every breath proved difficult. She pushed past her limits just to escape with her own life, now all that she could do was spectate the war of the Titans; a battle shaking what remained of Monzen’s charred husk.
Whatever momentary shock Eren’s transformation instilled in the abnormal was now lost. Unparalleled wrath could do little against the abnormal’s thorough counterattack as it struck, paused, and then lashed out once more. The algae-infested titan seemingly possessed no martial prowess in its discipline, merely thick muscle which Eren’s rage failed to counter. Green hands clamped firmly and tightly, digging sharp nails into superheated flesh. Gushes of blood and steam oozed from the wound, allowing the abnormal to hoist and toss the Attack Titan off to the side.
With a resounding crash, dust and splatters of hot blood painted the barren land. Mikasa held her breath only a moment, before her calculating mind calmed her, placing the image of what lurked deep within Eren’s orbs at the forefront of her mind – a burning rage which refused to die.
Eren would not fall so easily…
Coated in a billow of steam, the Attack Titan rose to its feet and charged. Propelled by its lightweight body, Eren’s Titan leapt across to pounce on the amphibian hominid. Their enormous bodies collided with one another, the pressure wave reaching even Mikasa’s onlooking form.
Green heels slid. Balance was lost for the abnormal. Not missing a beat, the Attack Titan pulled back and swung a sucker punch, breaking the hard green flesh of the gargantua with sprays of blood. In turn, the balled fist of the Titan shattered into shrapnel of flesh and bone, leaving a bloodied stump in its place.
Blazing eyes locked onto the green beast before Eren threw back his Titan’s other arm for another crippling strike. The curled hand swung by much like before, and much the same found its mark against a face still dazed from the last blow. This time, the cracks on the gargantua’s visage became more severe, knocking out a few prominent fangs in the process. The sea-dwelling thing uttered an outraged shriek from his bloodied mouth, no doubt furious at Eren’s resolve and confirming to Mikasa once more the feral intelligence the mysterious titan displayed.
Pressing up against the Attack Titan, the algae-covered hominid was able to shove Eren’s shifter off of him. As the Attack Titan rolled off to the side, it gave ample time for the gargantuan to rise to his feet, clenching his face in the care of his palms, seemingly trying to ease the pain.
With great care the abnormal clutched its face, no doubt feeling its flesh mend and repair the damages. But compared to Eren, the gargantua’s regeneration was lacking and without a doubt would take longer than the micro-seconds Eren would allow. Seemingly realizing its lack of time, the sea creature outstretched its arms in an intimidation display, carrying his tremendous weight upon his legs as he charged the handless Titan. Fear, though, was something Mikasa doubted Eren, even piloting a handless Titan and enraged by Armin’s death, could feel. And her instincts proved right as her friend, his orbs still blazing with rage, retaliated with a decisive gut-blow with a solid kick, stopping the green brute in its tracks.
Another city quaking shockwave followed. More ash blew by Mikasa’s onlooking form. Blood and bile heaved from Armin’s killer’s maw. While the Attack Titan seemed content at the anguish it had inflicted, its leg still pressed into the titan’s gut, the green gargantua seemingly noticed an opportunity it could ill afford to miss. Both his green, scaly hands locked themselves upon the leg of Eren’s Titan. A sinister, malicious grin spread across the killer’s face, for the leg it clearly would rip off if given a few extra seconds, but the abnormal’s eyes like Mikasa’s caught wind of something else – a searing orange light.
Raw power illuminated as it began to allocate into the knee of Eren’s Titan’s supporting leg, glowing with blistering heat. Before the green hominid could react, a sudden shift in the Attack Titan’s body movement was followed by the deafening roar of the Titan as it made clear to its adversary and onlookers what the next plan of attack was–and it wasn’t something the gargantua had contemplated as feral eyes went wide.
Launching off the ground, the burning knee of the Titan smashed directly into the sea beast’s face. The immense force burst in a combination of blood, steam, and fire as the gargantua was forced to let go, stumbling backward and falling flat once again.
But like the abnormal, the Attack Titan’s body had suffered its own crippling, if self-inflicted, blows. Eren’s shifter fell upon his shattered wrists and a broken knee. His Titan huffed and puffed steam and rage and hate, trying to regain an upward stance to satisfy Eren’s drive for vengeance.
“Eren…” Mikasa quietly mumbled to herself, increasingly distraught by her friend’s actions.
His Titan’s body was well past its limits, and while his Titan’s regeneration was working, albeit slower than his miniature form, the now recovered abnormal would reach him before his wounds completely mended.
Even with a broken face, slowly and surely stitching itself back together courtesy of his own regenerative capabilities, the green gargantua manically sprinted at full throttle. The abnormal brought down a slasher claw, aiming to slice the Titan to pieces with its elongated nails. But Eren’s maneuverability proved to be a reliable asset, twisting and turning to avoid the deadly claws of the sea beast. As the sea titan lunged for the face, the Attack Titan brought up both its forearms, its flesh sliced to ribbons from the daggers. Then, mimicking his foe’s tactic, the abnormal brought his own leg up and smashed it directly into the gut of the Titan, sending it flying and crashing into the sturdy wall of Monzen behind them.
Sliding down the wall, the Attack Titan slumped in a sitting position. His head hung low, exhaustion seemingly overwhelming the human host lost to rage deep within. And much like a predator stalking its prey, the abnormal took slow, steady steps as he approached his fallen adversary.
“Eren!” Mikasa yelled, hoping her words would summon some ounce of strength, some dormant power, but her friend remained still.
But just as the gargantua brought his claws down, the Attack Titan suddenly lunged from the ground to an upright position in a matter of moments. Nails sliced the flesh of the Titan with little effort, but the jaws of the gaunt humanoid opened with feral animosity as they found their mark against the neck of the unsuspecting gargantuan.
Rigid incisors clamped around the green scales that covered the jugular, each passing instant applying more and more pressure to the neck until it began to bleed. A sudden wave of noticeable panic washed over the green gargantua, shifting priorities from slaughter to self-preservation. The abnormal tried to pry the jaws open, to shove the humanoid off of him, but nothing worked against the relentless Titan. It wasn’t until the blocky teeth seemingly sunk as deep as they could did the Attack Titan reel back, pulling a substantial portion of flesh, blood, and muscle with it. A pained whine rang from the gargantua’s vocal chords as the primal man-beast of the deep pathetically slumped to the ground. As the abnormal crawled away in a feeble attempt to escape, the wounds of the Attack Titan became fully nurtured, as if nothing had ever happened to them.
Under the light of the freshly revealed full moon, Mikasa watched the fight drain from the abnormal’s face in tandem with the blood surging from its grievous neck wound. The abnormal raised its left appendage and reached out, uttering a pitiful cry for help which fell on deaf ears for Mikasa yet drew her gaze to the killer’s target – the great Mountain of Fuji.
For a few moments, the scout leader wondered what entity the algae-infested titan was calling for on the volcano until a wet pop drew her gaze back to the emerald creature. The Attack Titan was upon the fallen abnormal, relentlessly slamming his right heel into the sunken, fractured head of Armin’s killer.
Blow after blow reduced gray matter to a red paste, a process which gradually befell the abnormal’s body under the Attack Titan’s monstrous wrath. Every cell of the invader would suffer the consequences of Armin’s death and when those liquified remains were battered away, would Eren’s rage finally end?
Doubt crept into Mikasa’s mind so thoroughly, Eren’s earth-trembling cry of victory deflected off her with ease.
Twin tears rolled down her cheeks, and Mikasa uttered a prayer for the friends lost.
One to the monster outside the walls. The other to the demon within his own heart.
*****
20 Miles North of Tokyo, Japanese Missile Defense Station – Present Day, 110 A.T.
A year of bliss came to an unceremonious end with the tap of fingers on a computer screen. Upon the archaic monitor, a brimming white coastline stretched out for miles, cresting blue waves as scenic as those Kubal remembered surrounding Australia or Madagascar. Yet as the live satellite feed enhanced, natural beauty gradually was replaced by twitching horrors.
Azusa’s audible curse was brief yet justified.
“They’ve moved. How long ago was this–” Kubal paused, trying to recall the technical officer’s name. Jet black hair and a nonchalant expression, even when looking at what could mark the end of all their lives, rang no bells. A shot in the dark would have to suffice.
“-Levy?”
“It’s Leo, sir,” the tech sternly responded. “As for an ETA, I’ve been tracking the horde’s movement throughout the day. Once they reached the Sea of Japan, all activity ceased.”
Thick fingers slid through buzz cut hair while memories of a half-century of travel replayed within Kubal’s mind, focusing upon revelations discovered of the living plague which ended the world.
As if taking the natural desire of humanity to socialize, Wraith Titans copied their uninfected predecessors, instinctively massing in roving hordes. And from the luxury of a height in excess of one-hundred and fifty meters, Kubal remembered the migrating bands of Eurasia always traveling east while those in the Americas hugged the western perimeter of the continents.
“Kubal, do they know we’re here?” Azusa inquired, her composure restored.
“Yes, yes they do.” Thinking back to San Francisco, Kubal remembered one pattern which would explain the current halt at the Sea of Japan, “But they despise traversing water. Anything new with the other hordes?”
Leo swayed his head side to side. “Checked the others yesterday and the day before, when we had satellite coverage. The horde on Australia’s south eastern coast remains stationary, as does the one to North America’s north west. No activity on South America’s south western coastline either.”
If life drew the Wraith Titans, then Japan’s status as the last bastion of humanity explained the natural draw of the scourge on each side of the Pacific. Kubal’s only guess to the southern groupings, considering no landmass existed between Australia and South America, lay either in kaiju which escaped his murderous reach, or the abundant aquatic life which thrived without humanities’ exploitation. Whatever the reason, the swarm existing in what was once China could only have been stirred by one petulant being.
“Eren,” Kubal hissed, slamming a closed fist down upon Leo’s workspace. Eyes from around the workspace snapped to and then away from their leader, wary of locking eyes and suffering their savior’s wrath.
Azusa remained unconvinced.
“The other shifter within the walls? How could he-”
“They heard him.”
Flashing back to a week prior, Kubal recalled the thunderous bellow of victory which penetrated deep within the facilities’ walls, launching the silo’s inhabitants into a frenzy to discover what had transpired. Undetected cameras revealed the truth more clearly than any long dead informant within the walls could ever achieve.
Gaira, the green gargantua and perpetual pain in his ass had been slain by Eren Jaeger, specifically, his Attack Titan form which now stood a concerning seventy-five meters tall. While not a threat if Kubal decided to become serious, the growth spurt would bestow upon the young man unjust confidence. If Eren died foolishly, attempting to halt Kubal’s noble goal, then the last known Shifter on the planet, and hopes of his Titan’s rejuvenation, would be lost for the foreseeable future.
‘I had him in my grasp… Such a golden opportunity ruined by–’
“We should talk to them.”
A reassuring hand followed the comment which stung with the same anguish as a knife wound. In what felt like a lifetime ago, the woman comforting him was just as much a rival as a source of love. Whether in the Japanese Self-Defense Force or surviving through the sickest joke life could bestow a parent, Azusa showed her resilience time and time again. The armor coating her soul rivaled metal, but such a suggestion, to speak to the worthless inhabitants of those within the walls imbued fresh anger.
Kubal turned around, unveiling the torches which beamed his fiery gaze.
“Why?” he sneered with as much disgust as he felt enraged, ready for a fight he hoped would come.
“I’m not going to fight you Kubal,” Azusa retorted, her expression unfazed unlike the rest of the terrified individuals within the room. “But… they will. Eren will. And if that happens, we both know whose life we will lose.”
Kubal’s anger felt the cooling embrace of Azusa’s logic choke out his brutal desires.
“So let’s go, just you and me. No army, no weapons, no signs of hostility. We’ll offer them a choice, one life for eternal protection.”
“And when… if they refuse?”
Azusa smiled, placing her left arm upon Kubal’s shoulder.
“Then we’ll do what we must, without remorse or restraint.”
Parting his fury in a single, relief-inducing breath, Kubal felt his rage drain away, his gaze drawn to open palms covered in the blood of billions. A marathon of searching and bloodshed over the past century felt nearly at an end, all that was needed was a single additional life. Heroes, monsters, and the innocent fell to ensure his world’s restoration, what was another body?
‘Nothing.’ Kubal affirmed to himself and then shifted his stoic gaze back to Azusa.
Whether via peace or war, the price to free his daughter would be paid. The personal cataclysm which befell his Titan stricken world would finally be corrected, no matter the cost.
Winner: Attack Titan, Colossal Titan
