I stood on the black outcropping of rock, shriveled brown clover crushed under my feet, the smell of decay hanging in the air. Though I was easily supported by the obsidian outcropping above the River Styx, my body felt heavy enough to break through and fall to pitch black waters. I could see almost the entire Underworld from my perch— the red-tinged air above the Fields of Punishment, the dreary fog around the Fields of Asphodel, and the consoling glow above Elysium. My father's palace loomed in the very back with ominous majesty, harshly forbidding in its dark beauty.

Despite the impressive view, the only thing that truly held my gaze was the line of agitated specters waiting to be judged. It seemed to stretch forever, only ending with a hazy disappearance into the black fog on the horizon. Instinctively, I tightened my grip on the hilt of my sword.

So many…

I supposed it was only natural. Hades had told me once that death was a part of life, even if we mortals feared it above anything else, even if we didn't want to think about its inevitability. But I'd never had a problem with that, necessarily.

What bothered me were all those lives death took without reason.

The bile rose to my throat, my eyes beginning to bleed bitter tears, forcing me to my knees. I unsheathed my black iron blade, staring into the metal. If I focused, I could see the souls of the hundreds of monsters I'd killed in the last few weeks floating helplessly in the glossy surface, contorted with torture, twisting around each other in sluggish movements, distorting their own images into unrecognizable, pain ridden whorls.

With sudden fury, I stood and swung my sword, cleaving clean through one of the dilapidated trees behind me, bark of shriveled skin falling back to the dust, brittle gray leaves rattling in futile protest. I was screaming, my voice echoing all throughout my father's kingdom, but after all I'd done for him only to be met with silence, I doubted he would ever hear it. Distantly, I realized I was still swinging my sword, dying foliage collapsing around me in silent agony, the anger like a smear of fresh blood across my vision.

It had turned out to be true; I could kill a thousand monsters, a hundred thousand, and that would never be enough to protect all my loved ones, to protect all the innocent, to make the sacrifices of all my comrades mean something.

Especially if they were dying for my sake.


They were sitting in the Big House an hour after the battle, around a low coffee table covered in maps. Armin was reporting to Erwin the strategies that had been used. Mikasa sat with them, staring at the papers with glossy eyes.

I stood by the window, watching my fellow campers clean up the corpses, my gut churning like lava. My fists opened and closed with suppressed violence, my muscles tense and jaw tight, my teeth grinding against each other. I could feel the molten rock rising up my throat, ready to erupt at any moment.

Armin was robotically listing the names of those he'd confirmed dead when I finally snapped.

"You used them as fodder!" I growled, my voice low and loud with fury. My body moved on its own as searing heat blazed from my stomach outwards, burning holes through me even with the threat of fire alone. Suddenly, I found myself standing over Armin, my fists clenched hard enough to crush bone, that lava finally igniting in my chest.

Armin grimaced, but he dared stand to look me in the eye when he replied. "T-that was the only way to get you close enough to land the final blow!"

Images of the final moments of the battle flashed through my mind– giant scales, each the size of a car door, teeth as long as my body, air so acidic I could barely breathe...driving my magic key into the ground, splitting the earth to send the beast straight to the darkest pits of Tartarus, waves of suffering radiating from the chasm…

I shook the memories away with vehemence. "They were our comrades! They were our family! How could you just throw them away like that?!"

Tears shimmered in the corners of his eyes. "I told you, Eren, I-I didn't have a choice! Y-you asked me for a plan, so I gave you one!"

"Damn it, Armin!" I surged closer to him, forcing him to back away. My vision began blackening around the edges. "Do you know how many died?" I could count every single soul. As their faces flashed through my mind, my feet moved on their own, closer and closer. "We trusted you to come up with a plan because we know you're smart enough to solve any problem! We trusted you to come up with the best solution!" My voice was rising with the hungry flames in my breast. "But with that brain of yours, can you measure the value of a life?!"

"EREN." Mikasa's firm voice cut through my ferocity.

Gradually, my senses returned, and I realized I was holding Armin up against the wall by his orange Camp t-shirt, his body trembling. Both of us were breathing hard. For a moment, I didn't move, until I noticed that his cord of seven beads was missing from his neck. A wave of revulsion overtook me and I threw him to the polished wood floor, where he sat quietly, continuing to shake. There was a sour taste in my mouth.

"Apologize," Mikasa commanded, her voice tainted with an uncharacteristic quaver.

I just turned away, trying to reign in the monster of my anger that struggled to escape, scratching, clawing, scattering ash still ablaze. My voice vibrated deep in my stomach with the effort of restraining it. "Don't sacrifice so many people for my sake. That's not how I want to win this war."

Erwin finally spoke, breaking the calm silence he'd maintained until then. "Tell me, son of Hades, do you think we have a choice?"

I glared at the centaur who'd served as our trainer, the lava simmering, boiling, threatening to spill over and destroy everything. Apparently, the lives of all the campers meant nothing even to our teacher. Maybe Erwin would have liked it if I let it spill, because it would pave everything over again in shining new rock, a new battlefield for him, a new gameboard.

He continued, his voice deep and smooth. It would have been soothing if not for its utterly detached iciness. "If we only focus on making the best moves, we will never get the better of our opponent. When necessary, we must be willing to take big risks—"

"It's not a risk when you know they'll die! It's a certainty!" I growled. My body was burning up, my throat scorching as I turned to face Armin again, stepping forward until I towered over him. "Anyone who would take the lives of their own comrades to win is nothing but a weak, pathetic COWARD!" I could feel the fire overwhelming my heart as it pumped harder, louder, faster, anything to prevent it from burning to ash. The building began to shake with my power, dust falling from its ancient ceiling as the monster crawled up my throat, setting it all alight. "Don't send anyone else to their deaths because you think I need the help! I don't need anyone to fight for me, so just stay back, and let me shoulder it ALL!"

The light flickered once, and my ears were suddenly filled with sound of bone against bone. I found myself on the ground, a swelling sensation spreading across my face. The earth stopped shaking, the inferno inside me cooler from the shock of being struck. Mikasa stood over me, her fist still extended.

"Don't be stupid, Eren…"

The fire flared again. "You—...!"

She swiped her hand across her eyes, and my insides turned to ice. Her voice quivered slightly, threatening to break. "If you try to fight alone, you'll get killed...and...and if you get killed..." A single tear ran down her cheek and landed next to me, a lonely raindrop.

I stared at it for a moment, uncomprehending. Impulsively, I wiped it away and staggered to my feet, now prepared to retort, but Erwin spoke before I could. "That's enough, you three. I think you all need to rest. You're still in shock from the battle."

Everyone knew that wasn't the problem, but we filed out quietly, anyway, separating to our respective cabins. I understood that their parents were the two great war gods— Athena and Ares— but mine was the god of death. They may have known how to fight wars, but it seemed I was the only one who understood the cost.


Annie twisted my arm behind my back, pain surging through my shoulder like a tsunami. A split second later, I was pressed hard against the dirt of the arena.

"Tap out!" I shouted, turning my neck at an awkward angle to keep the dust out of my mouth.

Quickly, she let go and climbed off me, flipping a little of her feathery hair out of her face, unimpressed. She crossed her arms and watched me for a second, ice in her eyes. "That's it?"

"...I was stuck," I grumbled, sitting up and rolling my shoulder.

She didn't hesitate. "You've been sloppy ever since the battle."

I opened my mouth to retort, but no words came out. Instead, I scoffed and picked up my sword again. A gentle breeze cooled the sweat on my brow, carrying the salty scent of the nearby ocean. Strangely, I remembered then what Annie had told me once– that the water was salty because it was made of tears.

Annie leveled her bronze knife at me as we circled each other again, her voice flat and empty as always. "Why do you think that is? You did great."

I scowled. "I've just been thinking, that's all..." I deflected her stab, my throat growing tight with the effort of controlling my volume. "So many people died, but they didn't need to."

She scoffed a little. "Classic Eren."

I returned her contempt. "What are you talking about?"

Annie charged me, our blades clanging together with almost enough force to create sparks. Normally, we were more evenly matched, but today she was getting the better of me in every round. Somehow, she disarmed me again, the bronze screeching against iron. She shoved her knife towards my face without hesitation. I caught her blow on my forearms, cursing a little at the point inches from my face, but she didn't relent.

Her voice was quiet and metallic. "You have so much faith that there's anything fair about this world...You get caught up in your ideals and expect the world to measure up, but that isn't ever going to happen."

The fire reignited in my chest, though my heart was already charred and cracked. My voice was strained. "Then you're saying I should just give up and accept it?"
Her eyes were glacial when they met mine. "It'll save you all the guilt."

"Wha-? I'm not…" My speech petered out.

It had been a week since the battle, but I still hadn't been able to get that image of thousands of ghosts waiting for judgement out of my head. It was ironic, how we called death the most unfair thing in the world, and yet the Underworld was the only place abiding by the rules of justice– the good would be rewarded, the evil punished. Simple logic the Olympians' realm couldn't seem to follow.

Annie took the knife away and sheathed it, brushing some hair behind her ear. "Whatever you are or aren't, it won't change anything about the fundamental nature of our lives. I know you and I are the two most powerful demigods alive, but compared to the nature of the world, our power is less than farce."

The heat rumbled in my gut, the lava beginning to stir again. I crossed my arms forcefully. "So you're a defeatist, then?"

"Call me what you like." Annie stared off into the distance, beyond the rolling strawberry fields, all the way to her father's somber sea. "I'm just telling you the truth."


I knew I wasn't supposed to.

And yet, here I was, pouring offerings into the empty grave behind my cabin. I threw the empty sack aside, hesitating a moment. It agitated Hades whenever I contacted the dead, but now, I didn't care what my father wanted. He'd just granted me a dangerous quest; Mikasa had referred to it as a suicide mission. It was the first time he'd spoken to me in years, and as much as I'd wanted to refuse him...when it came down to it, I accepted his request.

Still, something felt wrong about leaving Camp when I wasn't talking to my best friend. Armin and I hadn't spoken in a week, and he still wouldn't look at me when we passed each other. I'd tried to demand answers from him once, demanding to know why he'd thought a strategy like that was our best option, but he hadn't been able to give me an answer, dodging my questions and dodging my eyes.

Slowly, I spread my hands and began the ancient chant as a hollow buzz filled my ears. The grave began filling with luminescent fog. To conclude the spell, all I needed was her name.

"C-carla Jaeger."

The translucent wisps wove together, forming the shape of a woman. She lifted her face to mine. Though it had been years by now, my stomach still lurched and knotted as I remembered the way that giant had squeezed her, bitten down with terrifying, merciless finality...and all with a terrible smile.

"Mom…" My voice broke a little.

"Eren?" She offered me a warm smile, but her voice was faint and had a slight echo, like it existed in another plane. "What is it, dear?"

I cleared my throat. "I need...advice."

She waited, and I studied her face a moment before continuing— taking in the smile lines around her eyes, the soft fold under her lip, the streak of gray above her left ear— always afraid I would someday forget her face.

I took a deep breath, refocusing on my current problem. "A week ago, there was a huge battle here at Camp. Armin made me the trump card of his plan, but…" My voice became a low growl. "He considered everyone else dispensable."

For a moment, Mom looked a little surprised, but her expression quickly returned to its familiar softness. "And you're mad at him for it?"

"Well, yeah, I am." I paced a bit, my hands curling into fists as the embers inside me rekindled, glowing hot and bright again. "He was right that it would work; he always is, but…" My voice trembled, up and down like a pendulum. "A-a lot of campers were killed because they were trying to help me, and…and..."

Suddenly, I couldn't finish, a wet, soggy lump clogging my throat. I stopped pacing, now occupied with blinking the stinging tears out of my eyes.

Mom leaned towards me, reaching out to me, her hand evaporating into mist when it neared my flesh. I could almost feel her touch. "One of the joys of life is having something worth dying for."

"But...they didn't have to die!" My voice cracked as the embers began to flutter, curling with the heat, crackling, crying out. It was true that our comrades died because Armin's plan had been set up that they probably would, but ultimately… "They died because I wasn't strong enough to do it alone."

The sun was rising behind me, the light illuminating sparks in her eyes. Her voice held a familiar warmth, burning slow. "Then you think it's your fault."

Instantly, a million excuses flew through my mind. Even though a part of me wanted to dwell on them, to let them fill my vision, I banished them all. "Yeah...I do."

"Eren, look at me."

I raised my gaze to hers, the water in my eyes failing to cool my heart.

"You've always tried to do too much, no matter how much I scolded you to look after only yourself. In a way...my deepest wish was that you'd grow up to be unfailingly selfish."

"Mom…" The tears ran down my cheeks.

The shimmer in her eyes was almost wistful. "I knew you'd find yourself in the world of the gods one day, and I tried so hard to put it off…" She broke off now to sigh. "But I suppose your father wouldn't have it. All I can do now is try to support you." She chuckled a little. "Besides...I always knew you got your fire from me. One thing that I learned too late was how to cool it down. How to have mercy."

I clenched my fists and roughly wiped the tears from my eyes. "I can't just let it go, Mom."

She nodded, as if she'd known that's what I'd say. The rising sun set flame in her golden eyes. "What are you going to do, now?"

"I guess...I'll go investigate the disturbances in the Fields of Punishment, like Dad wants."

"Alone?" she asked softly.

I managed a small smile. "Alone."


The blood was pooled near my head. I could see myself reflected in the glossy red surface, my face bruised and swollen, my hair disheveled, a thin stream of ruby trickling from a corner of my bluing lips. I didn't recognize myself.

Nevertheless, I could feel my body going numb, growing cold; I could sense Death waiting nearby like a whisper in my ear, offering me his sympathies, but no intervention. My vision blurred to nightmarish swatches of red, black, and gray as the monsters closed in, teeth like knives digging into the exposed flesh of my leg with slow, gloating malice. I tried to cry out, but all that came out was a small croak, drowned in the beasts' hissing laughter.

Come and get us, son of Hades, if you can!

Tears filled my eyes. My sword was lying in the grass next to me, but my arm wouldn't move anymore. I groped in the darkness overtaking my memory, trying to remember anything Hades had told me before I set off on this quest, any advice he'd ever given me, any piece of information he'd offhandedly told me, anything he'd said that could help me now.

Any comforting whisper of what it was like to die.

Mom…

I couldn't do it alone after all.

Eren!

A voice cut through the groggy fog spreading through my consciousness. It called my name again, louder, louder, expanding in my ears.

"Eren!"

My mouth was dry and sandy, but I croaked out a single word. "Mikasa…?"

The monsters' hissing intensified, their voices almost human as they cried out for mercy. Their screams grated against my ears, the tang of their blood filled the air, overwhelming my world with suffering.

I closed my eyes.


I knew I wasn't dead. After all, I knew the Underworld well. All that surrounded the newly dead was black soot, left over from a fire long burnt out.

Here, the air was crisp and fresh, a breeze wafting lazily around me. My eyes wouldn't focus, but I could see soft brightness, white curves floating around me in sympathetic puffs.

Someone squeezed my hand. "Eren?"

"Mikasa." I blinked slowly, purposefully, still trying to make my vision clear, but I could still see only the blurry dark smudge of her hair, the vague circles of her eyes.

"What...happened?"

My vision refocused just as she wiped a tear from her eye. "Well…" she smiled slightly, a strange bitterness about it. "The quest is over. I finished it for you."

"Then…" Slowly, I reached up, feeling the bandage around my head. The gauze was soft, full of tiny holes. "Someone still had to pick up my slack." Suddenly, I thought of Mom, my insides freezing from the inside out. The ashes of my rage were nothing more than colorless flakes, now, lying listlessly still with no wind, no spark to stir them. All that was left was the ice of regret. "Nothing's changed at all…"

Justice still did not prevail, in the end. It could not. All because I was too weak to carry it out.

"You can't just do everything by yourself, Eren." Mikasa said softly, the strange undertone in her voice almost accusing. Her eyes held the gentleness of empathy, but also the dark density of her anger.

I stared at her a moment before letting my gaze fall to my hands, resting uselessly in my lap, tears distorting the image. Maybe she was right, but I had no right to rely on comrades when they could die for me; no right to exploit that devotion. My fists tightened as I realized I'd come to know one person who believed I did. "Where's Armin?"

"He got back from his own quest yesterday."

I scoffed, still unable to believe the sacrifices he'd been willing to make. He was still my friend, and I still knew we would die for each other, but...just thinking of what he'd done made the embers glow again, my gut beginning to regain heat...

"This is war," she said suddenly. "We all have our own demons to fight...and we're all willing to do the extreme for...for what's important." Mikasa took one of my hands between hers, uncurling my fist so she could hold it. Her fingers were calloused from years of combat, but surprisingly gentle, as though caressing a delicate flower. "For some of us, that's someone we love. For Armin, that's victory. But…" she sniffled and leaned forward, her hair obscuring her face from my sight. A single tear landed in our hands. "What's important to you, in the end?"

I stiffened. Of course, the answer was people. People I loved, people who depended on me...and people I had to depend on. That was why justice was so important to me when it came down to it. Mikasa was talking about something else, though. She was trying to tell me that I'd never get to what was really important to me without it.

Forgiveness.

I sighed. "I...I know Armin did what he thought was best back there. I thought he would have done it differently, if I was strong enough." There was no heat left in my heart, but oddly, no ice, either. "But I'm not."

Mikasa squeezed my hand, another of her warm tears landing in my palm. Slowly, I closed my fist around it, protecting it as best I could before it would inevitably dry up.

For a long time, we simply sat in silence, not moving at all. She didn't even move when she finally spoke, quietly as usual but with unusual tenderness.

"I forgive you."

So that was the secret, then. The secret I had to work towards.

My voice was nothing more than a whisper. "Thank you."


A/N: Thanks for reading!

This is going to be a four-part series of one-shots, each centered around an Attack on Titan character and set in Percy Jackson's world (without the canon characters).

I hope you enjoy! Don't forget to review and let me know what you think! I'm always open to criticism! :D