To those who have enjoyed this story, I apologize for not updating. Life has kept me preoccupied, and I have been thinking of a new way to take the story.
There are many ways to consider life, whether it be flesh or metal, as such elements do not matter, but know always that sentience is necessary to dictate a spirit's strength. Know that he, born Iron, finding humanity in sacrifice, wept openly upon a child's grave, and that he, turning hard eyes onto Titans, spared none. Their teeth and flesh had been found weak and easily torn by a giant more human than they. Through regrown forests and over mountains, the alien machine marched, searching for life that Hogarth cherished dearly, and decided to embrace that which he feared.
"I am a weapon."
For what purpose, he questioned, crushing another Titan's skull in gauntlet, he considered to be vengeance, not shock and relapse when seeing a firearm. Kill, that much he could do and rightfully so, but revenge would not bring back humanity, a race hard learned in kindness when so much had been stripped by these beings. No, kill not to redeem, but rather to save, a lesson he slowly learned and harshly swallowed, following the clambering Titans to a new land. Sixty ton boot after sixty ton boot, mechanical thumps breaking the sick patting of over-sized feet, before a casual swipe snapped another's neck and threw its body into a ravine.
It haunted him to no end, more than any vision of past life ever could, when seeing these beasts tear a screaming man in half by flat teeth. A human, a kind he saved and loved and gave no pause in flying into a missile's path for while whispering an earned title, were dying off to giants not like he. Perhaps fleshy as humans, perhaps tall as the giant, but killing life nonetheless, just as he did, those bitter dreams told him. For the longest time the Titans ignored the Giant, even when he passed in curiosity through their lumbering ranks, but when he knelt to bury a body, clawing open earth by massive fingers, they all attacked to swallow the corpse. One's teeth shattered on resistant shoulder, the worried giant glancing frantically about and telling them to stop, but when another reached into a house and pulled another victim out there was no pause. False flesh and bone cracked and split when he grabbed that hand, all Titans learning that day a Giant made from metal was an opponent they could not swallow. Bodies dissolved when he finished, all hissing and fading away around the second grave he dug and filled.
A few hundred years passed since his sacrifice, parts rolling through forest and ice without abandon, and all save holy men begging where their guardian went forgot him. Perhaps it is why some people did not scream in terror when he passed through the woods, although curiosity and immobilizing horror could have played a role. A few hundred years to rebuild, and only a few days of wandering for him to gain direction to hope and humanity. Follow the current, that grotesque invading army. A built in measure, perhaps, based on suppressed programming to follow the tide of other marching machines, but this memory the Giant did not care to dwell on and blinked away the red building behind massive eyes.
Tink-tink-tink-tink-tink. A strange noise to hear in the forest, let alone any forest, replacing the chirping birds that sadly quieted when he passed. Did they forget him, the animals and people? Possibly, it had been a while. How long? He paused, idly scratching at metal chin, a cheerful little habit copied from Dean. "Hmm." It had been... years, the beacon his head sent taking quite some time to collect all parts scattered over the world when the missile exploded. Tink-tink-tink-tink-tink. Never before did he see such trees, the likes of which towering overhead. So that's what nature could do when left to its own devices, or stripped of humanity, the later thought giving a sick feeling in positronic receptors. Tink-tink-tink-tink-tink.
What, the Giant pondered, could that queer sound be? About the Giant looked, arms raised this way and that, turning about several times before plucking a squirming man off squared shoulders. There Levi swung, coat pinched between thumb and forefinger, starring back at the confused Giant, who in turn looked up to behold fresh graduates peering down from the branches. He blinked, looked back to Levi, blinked again, and gave an awkward wave.
"Hello."
Tink!
The scout's sword snapped off one curling metal finger, point vanishing in the recesses of brush and debris. Saddened by this hostile display, the Iron Giant deposited Levi on the ground, gave an indignant huff, and continued marching towards the city, unaware that Eren continued to swing lazily off his back from where hooks found connection. Towards the last human settlement, walls built by unknown means, the greatest personification of Superman strode.
