(Hello. This is the Author speaking here. There a few choice words I'd like to give to any new or older readers reading this. This story began three years ago, and died around two and a half before being continued just a few months ago. As such, a large portion of the original plot I had planned I don't remember, and better plots came into my head. As such, many of the things included within the early sections became obsolete in the face of such time, and also three years has a lot of growth for a writer. So I've rewritten the first chapter, and the second chapter. The ones between those two and where I picked back up will remain mostly unchanged.

As such, there will be certain details, certain things which are voided in the future chapters. I have taken care to remove and edit most of these details, but some have slipped through. As such, for your information: Chapter 6 was where I stopped working, Chapter 7 was the one I wrote when I started again after two and a half years. So between Chapter 3-6, although most of that will remain canon, parts of it will no longer be true. I apologize for any confusions that may cause, but I don't want to rewrite all that, and have settled with rewriting the early chapters and removing some of the worse writing.

As such, I highly appreciate reviews, and have done a terrible job of expressing gratitude towards them. So I am sorry about anyone who has left a review that has not been answered, I will try to respond to them more now.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy.)

There was a hand resting on the wall. If ever before there had a been a sight which truly terrified a man, it paled in comparison to this one. There was a hand resting on the wall. As if it had always wondered what was on the other side, the giant face peered curiously. There was a hand resting on the wall. It seemed to look at all of us, each individual man, personally. I think some of pissed our pants, and frankly I don't blame those who did. For there was a hand resting on the wall.

Very few had ever seen a titan before. In fact, only the members of the Survey corps had ever seen them. And for all of our lives, no, for all of our reality, titans had been little more than fantasies. Stories mothers would tell their titan at night to keep them in good behaviour. The reality of the situation only ever became clear when the Survey Corps would come back, carrying alongside them the dead.

This was not that. This was real.

There was a hand resting on the wall.

It cannot be explained any other way. How do you begin to explain what it meant, what it means. How do you express that feeling of just utter dread? The feeling you get when you know that the entire world is about to come crashing down on your head, and then you realize it already has. It's this moment of complete and total shock, which then tears out of your body leaving a gap in your emotions, which is soon filled by a brief moment of fear, and then the fear is thrown out and disbelief and confusion is all that remains. They say that we fear the unknown. And none of us knew what was going on, but we were all to confused by it to really begin to understand it, and it's when you understand it that the real fear sets in.

For there was a hand resting on the wall. And not just any hand, but a skinless red and fleshy hand the size of a house. A gigantic hand, attached to a creature the likes of which could not be fathomed. The walls, for us, were practically like the sky. You'd see birds up there, not people. Well, people too, but generally just birds. Ok, actually the more I think about it the more I consider that actually you probably saw more people than you did birds in the average day. So comparing the walls to the sky isn't exactly the best, but the point still remains. It was not easy to conquer the walls.

They formed our home. They protected us. When nothing else was, they were there for us and watched over us. They kept the nightmare out, these giant and solemn mammoths there reaching upwards. We were their children, in a way. We were tossing and turning in bed, and so they came into our room and sat there with us, assuring that no monsters were coming to get us.

But there was a hand resting on the wall.

There was a hand resting on the shoulder of our parents, and when they turned around to look at where the hand came from, their faces startled by the touch, the monstrous being kicked them, and shattered open the gate, sending splinters of rock flying everywhere into the city.

People were dead.

There was a hand resting on the wall. And today, the titans would devour humanity once more.

This was my cue to run. Yet I couldn't. I was 13. I had 13 whole years of life underneath my belt, which I didn't wear because I wasn't even at the age where a belt was needed. There just wasn't enough experience there to keep a belt up anyway.

But I couldn't move. I wasn't alone. Plenty of others were frozen in time. Others were running, screaming, some crying, sobbing. A few were calm, as if they had to terms with this already. Maybe they thought they were dreaming. Maybe they were. I hope they were. I hope that I'm dreaming. I hoped I would wake up soon.

Around that time I think I did wake up, actually. A part of my sleeping brain just clicked in and I begin to look around again, shaking my head. I had a headache that morning. There was this noise that been ringing in my ears all night and continued to ring. I shut my eyes tight, trying to block it out. Trying to block the screaming out. I was right. It was just a dream.

For there was a hand resting on the wall still.

This Titan was a dream. It did not exist. It should not have existed. It should never have existed. This Titan was a dream, a dream for the damn titans themselves. Finally, their sick fantasies would be fulfilled.

But I had been snapped out of my trance for the time being. I knew I had to run. The instinct kicked in, the desire to survive. I didn't know where my parents. I had a sister, once upon a time, but I didn't know where she was. I barely knew where I was. Amid the constant turmoil of my thoughts and the confusion, all I could understand was running. That was what I needed to do. That was my future, my destiny, my purpose. Run. Run. Run.

Survive.

There was a hand resting on the wall.

There is a hand resting on the wall.

There's titans. Titans inside the walls.

Run.

"Papa!" I exclaimed, as a large man scooped me up into his arms as I ran around a corner, his movement incredibly swift and agile for even a young man.

"Angel." He simply said, "We have to move." But even as he said it a titan came around the corner, an aberrant one, running down the road in it's sloppy and messy style. My father looked at it, as it came towards us. He breathed deeply, still holding onto me, and straightened his back and closed his eyes. This lasted for a brief moment, before the aberrant seemed to suddenly became confused, pausing in the middle of its run, and then quickly turning around and heading away.

My father opened his eyes, and watched the aberrant stumble away for a moment, before turning to me and beckoning me onwards. "My time is coming. I can feel it. I..." He seemed to grow dizzy for a moment, and rocked in the faint wind, "I still can't believe...what power. To think I never gave in before..."

I said nothing. I was curious to this, but he had spoken of odd things before in the past, and mother always said some demons haunted him. I would not question his thoughts now, not while my life depended on his abilities.

The large crowd of panicking people made it hard to move effectively. From my earliest years, I had been trained to be disciplined and remain calm in most situations. I had not fallen back on my training at first, but the longer this ordeal went on the more the lessons which had been hammered into my head begin to kick in, and the more at ease I became.

My father was an old boxer, professional fighter. Once in his life he had been somebody the walls would've known of if he had ever cared to really try in the championships. But he settled down though in the middle of his career, giving it up so he could have a family. If it hadn't been for us, I think he would be the number one best fighter in the walls at this point. But he wasn't. Instead, he had trained me in the ways of fighting, hand to hand combat, and he had taught me discipline and strength.

All my days, he would say he knew that I would do what he could not, and so I had once wished to be a professional. Lately, that dream had begun to taper away. My father said he did not want me to be a boxer, back when I confessed my dreams to him. Yet still, he had continued to say that he expected me to do what he could not, but now I was uncertain at what he meant, and confused at what could mean so much to him that he wished me to complete it.

Not that it mattered much at the moment. I had larger concerns.

There were titans in the walls.

But there was no hand resting on the wall.

"Dad," I said, as the two of us hurriedly moved towards the exit gate, "What about Mother? And Katherina?" He did not pause at my mention of his wife nor his daughter.

"Both of them would gladly give their life to ensure our survival. Listen to me, Angel, it is very important that the two of us make it out alive. We cannot go back for them, and we must simply hope that they make it out on their own." I obeyed my father, and continued to run alongside him. In short time, we were almost out. My family lived against the far eastern wall, and so we were moving in a zig zaggy line through the streets towards the gates out. This meant, however, the titans had the chance to intercept as they came directly forward. We had dealt with one aberrant, and while the titans moved fast at the pace we were progressing we would only likely have to deal with the faster titans. Once we were beyond the wall, we'd be safe.

My father stopped, his ears seeming to move with a will of their own, turning towards where the wall had been breached. He paused, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. I did not bother him. And in a moment he opened his eyes again, and sighed. He rubbed one hand against his forehead.

"One day." He said, "I fear one day you will understand Angel." I did not question him. I had learned from an early age not to question his ways, for he understood the world far more than I did, and there were things he seemed to know that none else could, and that could not be explained. "I have delved deeper than any others for a long time now, but I fear that you will have to delve the deepest."

He took a knee, looking me in the eye and holding me by the shoulders, "Get out of Angel. I will return in time, but for now I must learn something." He smiled at me, and then urged me to return on my path towards the gate out of here. He watched as I moved around the corner, and then I was away, towards the exit.

"Dr. Grisha, the day has come." Harrison Blase said, approaching his old friend. The two had often discussed about when this would happen, if it would happen. Often times, Grisha said it would happen sooner than later, but Harrison, knowing very little, said it would not happen for a long time. Harrison was, of course, wrong.

"Harrison, are you ready to embrace your power?" But Harrison shook his head.

"I will not give into the temptation." Grisha chuckled.

"Sometimes, I admit, I found the way of the Blase to be somewhat attractive. The thought of purging myself of the power and rejecting its use was interesting. Interesting, yet foolish."

"There are other reasons why we deny it."

"Yes, I know. But I have no such reasons. If I were to deny myself, I would have been denying it just to deny it. And that would be foolish." Harrison nodded. "We have other matters at hand than philosophy, my friend. We must escape this city."

"Not yet." Harrison said, "We must determine the truth behind this." Grisha shook his head.

"No. I was not prepared, and if you will not accept your full strength then it is too risky to delve deeper into the mystery. We must retreat," Grisha looked into the distance, "And allow our children to handle this." Harrison looked troubled.

"I cannot allow Angel to face this."

"Your son has the capacity to be something greater than you ever were. I can see it. I feel he has the natural gift."

"He will break tradition once more."

"Is mending the break breaking once more." Harrison frowned.

"Perhaps not."

"Harrison, listen to me. They do not know of you. They are not aware of your power, or your gift. You cannot allow them to become aware. If they are, you will give up his greatest advantage: surprise. We must flee now, we have something to find."

"I know what you want to do."

"Yes, your blood will help in finding it."

"My blood will stop you."

"Your blood couldn't stop a fly. Your blood is cowardly." Harrison looked down, shamed, for the words were true. He had run from his path, and dealt with the guilt his whole life. He was truly a coward, "You are being offered a chance to redeem your bloodline, you family. To give us a fighting chance once more. Come. We must move now."

Harrison did not move as Grisha walked away, "But what," Harrison began, "But what if they can't handle the power? Angel cannot resist the temptation, he will not have someone to guide him."

"Neither of them will, they must find their own path." Harrison nodded, "Now come, man. We must go." The two men walked off, away from the city and to find something of great importance to Grisha, and also Harrison in a different yet equally powerful way.

Angel's father never returned. Angel had been sitting on a boat out for a while now, waiting for his father to come, but soon enough, despite his waiting, the boat began to push off, without his father on board. Angel did not complain, he did not protest. He was worried, but reasonably so. He had the utmost faith that his father was alive, and yet somewhere that was not here. Why and for what reason, Angel could not say, but he was certain that his father would not have died. For whatever reason he returned back into the city, it was too important for dying on the way out.

The gentle lapping of the water caused by the boat paddling off provided some comforting and relaxing noise to the displaced people on board. Angel listened to the water flowing, calming himself by losing his thoughts in the rhythmic movement of it.

On the other side of the gate, which had shut just a few moments before, an odd looking meter class appeared all the way on the other end of the street. The soldiers on the cannons on the ground watched as it slowly began to jog towards them, picking up speed as it approached. They were stunned for a moment, but quickly ordered the cannons to fire. The fire was lit and the smoke rose up as the heavy balls were launched towards the odd titan.

They ricocheted off the creature, without even seeming to slow it down.

"What the hell..." One soldier said. The group looked around at each other, shaking their heads in confusion, until one guy simply said, "Fire again?" And they nodded.

But it was too late, as the titan was upon them, and ran through the group, sliding forward and smashing through the gate. The townspeople on the boat, who had suffered a day's worth of horror already, looked up to find they had not yet escaped their nightmare.

"They've breached through the gate too?" Harrison said to Grisha, the two of them on a boat heading away already.

"You thought they wouldn't?"

"Yes, how much farther will they go?"

"Only here. They're inside the walls now, among us. They will look for their target now."

"But we are going to find it first?"

"They can't be allowed to have it."

"So we are going to find it first?"

"Of course."

"And what will we do then?" Grisha said nothing. "Nevermind."

The two just watched as the world they once knew faded away into the distance.

Angel sat on the boat, listening to the water move still. Above all else, as long as he could hear the water he could lose himself in it. It mattered now what else was going on. As long as he had something to focus on, the rest of the world could wait.

He simply stood there, listening to the water and watching as the world he once knew burned. His father was out there, he could feel it. He would return. For the time being however, Angel would wait.

The life he once had had been burned and set aflame. The monsters which were once bedtime stories to keep children behaving were now made into reality. Their fury had tortured humanity once more, and they would not be stopped. They had come, and dealt a major blow. The world would never be the same.

But, there was life which still survived.

And where life could survive, life could thrive.