Disclaimer: I own nothing of Isayama's Shingeki no Kyojin; I just enjoy his storytelling.
Author's Note: I've been active on this site for over ten years now, and I have written many a story for all kinds of fandoms, but this is my first endeavor into Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan territory, so I'm testing the waters with a one-shot. It's completely canon with slight foreshadowing to future events. I won't call it a true spoiler because I really believe you'll only catch it if you've read the manga through chapter 50. Warning: I meant for this to be a solemn, dark, and somewhat depressing piece. I did my best to match the tone, characters, and circumstances of the story on the original. Any reviews, thoughts, or constructive criticisms are always encouraged. Please let me know what you think!
IN THE ABSENCE OF LIGHT
Year 845 – Stohess
Chaos, confusion, and carnage – it was everywhere.
As the sun slowly sank behind the noble, rocky face of Wall Sina, the remaining members of the Scout Regiment assisted in the cleanup, recovery, and rescue efforts in the devastated Stohess district. A dark shadow was cast across the faces of the most recent recruits as they worked diligently, trying to ignore the hateful looks and whispers that were cast their way by the citizens. It was obvious who was to be blamed for this tragedy.
Connie Springer fumbled blindly through the rubble of a collapsed building, holding only a candle to see in the gathering dark. Two companions—Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover—were beside him. As the trio dug through the loosened bits of brick and mortar, searching for anyone left alive, the petite teenager tried to close off his emotions and focus on his mission. But between the wails of the injured, the stink of the dead, and the swirling clouds of dust that hung like ghosts in the air, it was impossible to feel nothing in the wake of the destruction—especially since two of his very own classmates had been the cause.
It had only been a few hours since the titanic clash between Eren Jaegar and Annie Leonhart. The elusive Female Titan had been lured out and defeated, but the Scout Legion had been left battered and without reward—Annie had enclosed herself inside an impenetrable crystalline substance as soon as her defeat became imminent. Commander Erwin and the disgraced Scout Regiment would not get the answers they so desperately needed to justify the lives lost in the colossal battle. Connie frowned at the grim thought as he dug through the rubble with one hand, using his other to hold his candle aloft.
And I thought that Trost had been the worst hell I'd ever seen, the teenage soldier thought. I was so wrong.
The boy continued to bite back his sentiments and dig into the debris below him. He'd been at this for an hour already, so his fingers had gone numb with pain and his nails were broken and bloody. But then his hand reached forward and grasped something that wasn't made of rough, cold stone. Connie gasped audibly, earning himself an alarmed look from both Reiner and Bertholdt. His fingers tenderly explored the object, noting its softness and shape.
Connie's heart began to pound painfully against his ribcage when he realized what he was holding was a human hand, and tiny one at that. The hand of a child.
It was still slightly warm.
"You guys!" Connie shouted frantically. "I think I found someone alive! Get over here and help me!"
Reiner and Bertholdt quickly scrambled over the debris towards Connie's position and shined their own candles down on the tiny human limb. It was jutting out of a small, dark hole underneath a sizable block that had once been part of a wall. Reiner quickly handed over his candle to Bertholdt and grasped the section of stone in his hands.
"When I lift, you pull them out," the stalwart young recruit commanded, glancing up at Connie expectantly. "Okay?"
"Reiner, that piece is huge," Connie began to protest. "You can't lift it by yourself—"
With a mighty grunt and an impressive show of fortitude, his companion hoisted the block a few feet off the ground. Connie was aghast—and slightly jealous—at Reiner's sheer strength. However, the teenager quickly shook away his initial shock and grasped the minute hand in front of him. He pulled, desperately hoping that the child attached would still be breathing. But in his nervousness the child's tiny, delicate fingers slipped from his sweaty palm.
"Hurry!" gasped Reiner, his teeth gritting together.
"Goddamn it," Connie cursed under his breath.
He reached forward again, this time making certain he had a good grip before he attempted to pull the child out from under the block of rock. As he yanked upward sharply, Connie felt that something was amiss.
Even a child shouldn't feel this light, he thought, confused, unless I've somehow gotten stronger and haven't realized it.
Behind him, Bertholdt was ominously silent.
"Got them?" Reiner asked breathlessly, letting the collapsed section of wall slip out of his hands and crumble in a heap at his feet. "Are they all right?"
Connie didn't answer—his pounding heart had leapt up into his throat and felt as though it was strangling him from the inside. He shakily held the candle forward, and all three recruits watched in growing horror as the flickering flame cast its light on what the young soldier was holding.
Within Connie's tightly clenched fingers were the pink digits of the child. Below that, a tiny forearm and an elbow, covered in scratches and bruises. Below that—there was nothing but shredded, masticated flesh and sinew. Nothing.
All three recruits gasped in horror, and Connie dropped both the severed limb and his candle into the rubble. The bright flame sputtered out as he turned away, doubled over, and violently retched in the middle of the street a few feet away.
"Oh, God…" he cried, unable to hold back his terror and repulsion. "Oh God…"
As he spat out the remains of his lunch in the dust, Connie heard the two older soldiers shuffle towards him. The teen hesitantly glanced up with tearful eyes and looked to his companions for some comfort, but he only saw grief and guilt in their gazes. Reiner and Bertholdt never had looked more defeated, and Connie felt the same.
"W-why would Annie do this?" Connie stuttered. "Why would she kill so many—why did she have to be our enemy?"
Bertholdt just looked away, as if the very thought made him uncomfortable, but Reiner was more forthright. He placed a gentle, but firm hand on his comrade's shoulder. "I don't know if she had a choice, Connie," he said quietly.
"Of—of course she had a choice!" the smaller recruit retorted, even more horrified than before. "Armin reported that she acted intelligently the entire time she was attacking our regiment beyond the wall—that she didn't behave like a normal, mindless Titan! She killed over one hundred soldiers, and now this—Reiner, how can you defend her like that?"
Reiner's golden eyes narrowed slightly, and he removed his hand from Connie's shoulder. "I'm not defending her. I'm just saying that we—we don't know everything yet. Her motives are still unknown."
Connie sniffed, wiping his mouth. "And it's likely to stay that way, since she walled herself up in that crystal," he said, his anger growing with every breath. "What a goddamned coward!"
Finally, Bertholdt shot Connie a sharp glance and unexpectedly broke his silence. "Stop it, Connie. You're drawing unnecessary attention to us."
The trio's eyes darted around them in the dark. Sure enough, several citizens had stopped to stare at the three arguing Scout Regiment soldiers, their lanterns and candles illuminating disdainful expressions etched on their faces. All three boys held their breath until each face turned away and disappeared again into the night.
Reiner glanced at his friends. "We should get back," he said simply. "I've seen and heard enough for one night. We can come back to recover the bodies in the morning."
But Connie felt as if his hands and knees had rooted to the spot. More hot tears slipped from under his lashes, and he dipped his head and watched as the little, wet circles appeared in the dirt below his face. Then, the toe of a military-issued leather boot appeared in his vision.
"Connie," Reiner said sternly from above. "Let's head back."
The younger recruit refused to move. "No," he hissed fervently. "We can't just leave it."
"But—"
"We have to bury it! It belonged to someone. Someone's kid…oh God…"
"You know that the standard regulation is to burn remains," Reiner said, his voice strained slightly. "It prevents the spread of disease."
Connie turned up his head, his face contorted with grief. "Then let's do it now! We—we can't just leave them here to rot in the night, to be eaten by rats! We can't!"
The younger soldier dipped his head low again, sobbing and slobbering unashamedly. Reiner took a small step back, sucked in a tense, uneasy breath, and glanced at his other companion questioningly. Berdtholdt held his friend's gaze with purpose, and a silent communication passed between the two.
Finally, Berdtholdt slowly nodded.
Sighing heavily, Reiner glanced back down through the lingering darkness at his comrade on the ground. He waited another moment, and then reached down and plucked Connie easily from the dirt, while the younger recruit protested with a feeble struggle.
"Let go of me!" he screamed, but the taller boy's grip was impossible to escape from. "Get the hell off of me, Reiner!"
"Shut up, Connie," came another uncharacteristic chiding from Bertholdt. "We're doing what you want."
"Huh?"
"We'll burn it now," Reiner clarified, setting Connie rigidly onto his feet. He retrieved his candle from Berdtholdt and held it out towards the smaller recruit. "Here, I'll get a gas lantern."
Connie blinked hesitantly at his friend's offering. The minuscule flame danced flickeringly in the wind, its little life endangered by the chilled rush of air. Quickly and carefully, the teenager accepted the candle. He held it close to his body, cupping his free hand around the warm flame and staring at it protectively. Bertholdt did the same with his, and both young men watched and waited silently as Reiner broke off from their group and wandered into the impending darkness in search of a lantern. The awkward silence strung between the two remaining recruits like cobwebs. Finally, Bertholdt muttered something in Connie's direction.
"I'm sorry, Connie," he whispered, his voice breaking softly against the wind. "I wish…"
Connie turned a curious gaze towards the stiff, towering form of his companion, but Bertholdt's eyes remained fixed on his small torch and his voice trailed off into the night. As the candlelight illuminated the taller soldier's features, he could see the reflections of the flame glittering at the edges of his friend's eyes. He wanted to say something more, Connie could tell, but something was keeping the words from surfacing.
Eventually, the Reiner plodded back towards them, cradling a gas-filled lantern in his hands. The straw-haired soldier looked around them, scanning the area for citizens or other members of the military, but he found none. The three recruits were alone in the darkness.
"This is against protocol," Reiner murmured, shooting serious glances at both other boys. "We're not supposed to burn any remains if they haven't been identified. We could get into real trouble if someone found out."
Connie gulped nervously, but his heart was heavy with resolve.
"We won't tell," he assured quietly.
"Okay," Reiner nodded, accepting the small promise of silence. "Ready?"
Both Connie and Bertholdt silently nodded.
Reiner raised the lantern high above his head, hesitating for a fleeting moment. His narrow, nervous gaze turned towards the other two teenagers and the lights they carried, seeking their approval once again. Their silent eyes urged him on, and so he rapidly swung down his arm, tossing the lantern and its flammable contents into the rubble. There was a sharp, twinkling sound as the glass of the lantern shattered against the rocky remains of the building. Connie and Bertholdt tossed their lighted candles in next, and a small wave of flame shot across the uneven ground as the objects impacted, igniting the crumbled remains of wood, rock, and human life.
The fire chewed through the ruins steadily, leaping from one fuel source to the next, until it had twisted itself into a bright carpet of flame that engulfed the entire foundation of the building that once stood there. Then, even more steadily, it began to rise. Its voice—a chorus of crackles and pops and strange, otherworldly howls—echoed into the night. The recruits watched wordlessly as the flames grew higher, their makeshift funeral pyre now the only source of illumination in the heavy darkness.
After many minutes of watching the inferno swirl in front of them, the fire began to run out of fuel and slowly die. Soon nothing that resembled the rubble endured—only red-orange embers that grew slightly brighter whenever the wind granted them a precious breath of air. Connie felt somewhat calmer, and wiped the last stubborn teardrops off of his face. He turned to Reiner and Bertholdt again, but paused when he noticed that their expressions looked even sadder than before.
Finally, in the blazing glow of the burnt remains, he reached out to them.
"Guys," he said hoarsely, "let's go home now."
The eyes of his two comrades flickered towards him, and now he could see their morose expressions clearly. They didn't move. Connie hesitated again, searching for something to say to ease the tension that still hung in the air.
"Reiner, Bertholdt," he finally choked out. "Thank you."
Both young men visibly flinched at his words, and suddenly Reiner's visage contorted into a stern, expressionless mask. Connie watched both of them with interest, questioning why they were acting so oddly and wondering which of them would budge or say something first. Finally, Reiner couldn't hold back his sentiments any longer.
"Don't thank us, Connie," he demanded sternly. His voice was void of emotion, but one lonely tear slipped down his cheek. "We were just doing our duty—just like you do yours."
Connie stared at his steadfast friend, aghast. Reiner had always been a pillar of independence and machismo in their small, enclosed circle. He looked up to the older teenager and admired him for his ability to fight and remain untouched by the turbulent emotions that war stirred up. It was strange to see him cry, even if it was just one tear. The petite soldier looked past Reiner and saw that Bertholdt wasn't entirely successful in hiding his emotions either: His cheeks were damp with recently shed tears, and he was silent.
Finally, Reiner's arm shot up and hastily wiped his face. He then turned away from the dim orange glow and towards the night. Shadows cut sharply across his face, bathing one side of it in darkness.
"Connie's right," he said through clenched teeth. "Let's go. Hange says we'll be sent away the morning."
With that, Reiner stomped off moodily away from the others. Bertholdt shot Connie an uncertain look and then trailed behind his companion. He didn't seem surprised to hear the news, but Connie stopped in his tracks.
"Sent away?" he exclaimed. "Where are they sending us?"
Reiner paused briefly in his departure.
"Just away," he repeated bitterly, but then his tone softened as he went on. "It's someplace called Castle Utgard, near the perimeter of Wall Rose."
Connie furrowed his brow in confusion, but said nothing. His eyes followed after the two taller soldiers as they ambled slowly away from the charred rubble, but his feet did not. Fleetingly, the young man turned and glanced again towards the place where their impromptu funeral pyre had burned. The spot was no more than a dingy, blackened pile of ashes now. Even the brilliant orange glow of the embers had faded into darkness. Nightfall had completely swallowed the city, drenching it in shadow.
The teenager wrestled with his emotions again. He resisted the inquisitive urge to call out after Reiner and Bertholdt again, to question why they were being sent away from Stohess when their help was so obviously needed. But it was unlikely that either of them knew the answer, and in truth, he was glad to hear that they would soon be far away from all the chaos and carnage.
And so, in the absence of light, Connie Springer turned back and followed his friends.
Author's Note: Thank you very much for reading!