This world is incredibly vast.
Standing atop the wall of Trost, you watched the setting sun kiss the horizon with your somber, swollen eyes.
It had been a couple of days since the reclaiming of Trost and the cleansing of the Titan creatures that had invaded through the gaping hole in the wall. You had been a part of the squads assigned to culling the trapped beasts after Eren plugged the breach. For hours you and your comrades had slain the filthy abominations, toiling until gear broke, fingers split and exhausted tears fell.
Now, as you watched the crimson sky darken with impending night, you were like a glacier. Alone, barely moving, barely breathing. Your constricting throat tightened even further as your cruel memories of today replayed once more.
How has it come to this?
You witnessed the day's horrors repeating before your eyes. The search for survivors.
Or in most cases, remains.
Clenching your jaw until the muscles in your cheeks screamed in agony, you fought back the searing tears that threatened to boil over. Your right hand balled up tighter around the small piece of paper clutched protectively between bloodstained digits. Knuckles white, teeth aching, knees trembling violently, you continued to fight the tears.
Please let this just be a nightmare, God just let this be fucking fake.
You had seen them fall.
Comrades, rivals, friends, accomplices, leaders, followers, lovers, siblings, it didn't matter to the Titans. In droves they had swarmed into the city, and by the dozens civilians and soldiers alike had perished in a flurry of monstrous teeth and fingers. They fought bravely and relentlessly, and still so many were lost.
And you, you had hacked and slashed mercilessly at the creatures, ruining every blade you had and only stopping when you were left stranded with no more gas atop a building. Breathing like a winded deer, sweaty hands shivering with shock and adrenaline, you had witnessed the retaking of Trost and fought til the last trapped Titan was destroyed.
You had picked up the pieces.
Wandering the streets of destruction the following days to locate and identify any of the fallen that you could recognize. Helping the medical squads lift injured soldiers onto stretchers, or assisting the removal teams by uncovering bodies from the debris and wrapping them in oilcloth sheets. With trembling fingers you would gently remove their name patches and insignia's, folding them carefully into your chest pocket. But as time dragged on and the body count climbed, the mounting panic in your chest threatened to tear out of your ribcage.
Where is he? Why can't I find him? Why hasn't he come back to the military base yet? He fucking promised me he can't be gone this is just an awful sick mistake, he's alive he has to be he can't leave me here.
Your thoughts reeled and tumbled chaotically around your strained and overworked mind. Every dark haired body you came across caused the bile to rise in your throat and your eyes to sting. Every possibility that it could be him would send waves of nausea and terror to wrack your frame. And every time it would be some other poor bastard lying in shreds amongst the shattered skeleton of Trost.
But finally your worst fears were realized, and the gnawing anguish you had been suppressing came crashing to the surface of your being.
You found poor devastated Jean kneeling amongst dusty rubble and crusted blood, his face a catatonic mask of pain. His pale clammy hands were clutching the only remaining hand of a dark haired freckly boy, his body broken and sickeningly twisted against a wall. His eyes that once gleamed with naive wonder and clear dreams were gone. All that was left was one bloodshot orb, lifeless and dark, unseeing in death.
As the sickening reality slammed into you, you had collapsed to your knees.
Marco.
Marco please, this world is too great, too huge, too daunting for me to go on alone.
The vast horizon you had focused on for hours began to swim and blur in your hazy vision. The sun had long since set, leaving the land a cold shade of cobalt.
Shivering atop the wall, the day's horrors revisiting repeatedly, you felt your last shreds of composure dissolve.
Clutching his last note to your face like a lifeline, you allowed despair to claim you once more and collapsed into darkness.