A.N: Good day, everybody! Welcome to the inaugural chapter! A few things first:

This is actually a grand re-write of an earlier now cancelled story I tried writing before called Captain Mashinga: The First Superhuman. I honestly thought it was a pile of crap after the 7th chapter because of me not knowing enough about the AoT storylines and taking too many liberties with the characters. Another thing was I felt I was too constrained with the superhero theme of the story.

If you want to get a broader idea on what I mean, by all means check out the original story. Just keep in mind only a few things from that story will carry on to this one. The plot will be quite different.

The setting takes place a little bit after Christa/Historia ascends to the throne after a coup, but before the expedition into Wall Maria.

As for why I decided to re-write this story in spite of my negative outlook on the original, its because I never left it. I wanted to faithfully finish at least the main story and be happy with it, and it wouldn't stop nagging at me. Think of it has that itch you just can't scratch no matter how long your nails are.

As for the rhythm this will be updated, I want it to be every week but I am in school, I work, and I do other things besides put myself in front of a computer, so hold that with a grain of salt. I am gunning for every week but don't quote me.

Disclaimer: Isayama owns everything. I own nothing.

Chapter 1

Now-

It's a new tradition of his, the Captain's: at the end of the day when the sun begins to set, he climbs up those rocky well-carven stairs up through the tower along Wall Rose. That little path had become a little more cramped since but he didn't mind. A small walk and a leap, and there a small wooden table, a few chairs, and a teapot is there to greet him.

He would sit there and just watch the sun set. His friends, who have looked at him a little differently each day since his return, would often join him. Many times they'd elect to drink tea as well, others just came for the company. Some either attempt to spike the pot or bring their own brew (some is usually Connie).

Somedays it could be as small as two and some days as big as seven.

Tonight there is only one. The sun has almost set. No one's coming tonight, and he knew it. Too much has happened since he got back, and not directly his fault. Circumstances and equations really are to blame. His existance posed a challenge to anyone who stood against him or by him.

After all, he's not nescessarily human anymore. He didn't see it that way. He was the guy who made a speech about another friend of his who fell into a similar problem, though with more cannons facing him and the spite of an entire people. Only the latter seemed relevant to the Captain.

This day was particularly daunting; those seven had been through too much: identity, handicaps, responsibility, and despair. Friendships and Camaraderie rarely survive these things. Yet, he pondered to himself whilst sipping on the lonely hot liquid with a hint of lime, do they not become stronger with each passing hardship? If they can all survive this, surely no task can be insurmontable. Without those seven, he always had those two, they've been through everything for too long; having to depend on each other for years and relying on each other with everything.

I wonder, a cutting voice pierced from the hippocampus, if my friend ever came back.

A single year...it had been a single year since everything began, since everything changed for him and for everyone. He leans against his unsheathed fist in his arm chair, another sip. The memories went through his mind like a slideshow. It's true he had become more dutiful. He needed to. It wasn't just a single corp he was a part of anymore; those days had sailed long ago.

He drinks again, and twists the cup around in the air.

The 104th's anniversary is tomorrow night. A big celebration is being planned. There's no planned expedition, no investigation on his end, just a small tedious patrol around Sheena. He knows the place like the back of his shield now, laying against his chair.

The stars have betrayed their locations though some still conceal themselves.

He smiled in anticipation. "I wouldn't miss that for the world." He immediately began thinking about preparations, gifts, and other little things he could give to his friends. Some reminder that their friend is still with them and hasn't forgotten them. He clearly didn't, though he hasn't been good at translating it. Individual gifts could be easy, but a little too easy. He looked into his cup, some tea still left. His reflection came back at him. His body vastly different; his face the same, a slight ripple.

"That's it!" That new hobby of his, he never really told anyone about it. The woman formerly known as Krista found out and Mikasa suspected it from the colours on his naked fingers one time. He already had the perfect one in mind.

He finished his tea, the sun extinguished for the night, and with a sudden prick to the neck, his consciousness surrendered.

Then-

A turbulent event had just transpired; the fall of authority, independence, and for others a new hope that things will get better, in other words:

"The King is dead, long live the Queen!" Connie breaks open the first keg of spirits with an axe, immediately spilling the first contents of a virgin shindig. It's a good thing many others have already taken their own bottles and pitchers.

"Is this really the time to celebrate? We still need to retake Wall Maria."

"Oh come on, Eren," a toothy grin met the confused face, taking a glass and ripping an arm-sized hole into it, "gotta take our victories where we can, and this is a big one." He handed the glass to Eren, who shook his head.

"Even if I wanted to, I'm exhausted. I think I'll go to bed early tonight."

A sinful smirk crossed his mind. "Well alright, go on to bed then, I guess Jean was right about you."

Without a moment's hesitation, Eren disrupted his passage and gave Connie his full attention. "What did he say?"

"You really don't want to know, buddy." Connie continued filling glasses along a table, never making eye contacting to the clearly aggravted Jaeger.

"Tell me."

Smugness overtook him. "Nothing really, just how a low born farm boy like you couldn't handle any of the Rosian Redwines. Which I happen to have." He pointed to his right where several bottles sat, imported from some kindly donations and a little royal pull. Krista was Krista, you can change the name but you can't change the girl. And this was the kind of charity many could get used to.

Eren took the wine and immediately tried to track down Jean. "Horseface! Where are you?"

The sober entertainment for the evening has been provided. Connie turned his attention back to his brief connsieurship. A fine bartender would he make. A fine tavern keeper, he would make. Perhaps when all the Titans are dead. He heard the pitter patter of foodsteps slowly walk towards him. "Hey Sasha, did you get the meat?"

"Didn't we already have a big dinner at the palace?" Connie looked behind him, blue eyes met him instead of brown.

"Hey, Armin. Remember she couldn't control herself so they barred her from the meat? She got some after for this special occasion with supervision, of course. No way I'd trust Sasha with boxes full of meat. Care for some liquid courage?" Channeling his inner Vanna White, Connie introduced his variety of goods to Armin.

"I'll live," he looked a little to the right and saw the festivities: a strange sight to behold as young MP's and Scouts exchanged stories and laughed, some consuled others who had feared they lost too much in this war. A change of scenary but very fitting for the world they wanted. Though if that was too drastic a change, Eren and Jean were already duking it out in the form of a heated wine drinking competition. Perhaps it was fatigue or coping, but Armin could feel the insults coming from the both of them.

"Your handiwork?"

Connie shrugged. "I needed some entertainment and I forgot my guitar at the barracks. Be good for the two of them; get their anger out." He returned to filling glasses up.

"Someone's going to kill you."

"What makes you say that?"

"Those two are going to get hammered tonight just to one-up each other: Eren's too proud to fail and Jean would never let Eren beat him at anything. So guess who will have to take care of Eren?"

"You're the best buddy."

Armin shakes his head. "Mikasa. She'll want to know what happened and..."

And that point, Connie did the scariest thing to Armin when faced with the threat of Mikasa: laugh. "Don't sweat it, man. Who do you think is supervising Sasha?"

"Still, Connie, she'll find out. Maybe not tonight, but Eren will bring you up, and Jean will defend himself."

A cold wet hand met shoulder on a fine sewn layer. "I'll cross that bridge when we get there. Tonight is a night we burn bridges and build...uhhhhh...bigger bridges!" Connie took a glass, and thrusted the transparent mallet into the sky with victory and triumph. "To independence, to peace, and to victory over the Titans! A toast to our future victories!"

A unianimous chorus erupted from the venue, "To Victory!" chanted the unified army besides Jean and Eren, whose competition mutated into an impromptu arm-wrestling match, interrupted by Eren cursing the Titans from under his breath. Everyone chugged their drinks without coordination. Connie nearly choked on his, coughing. "Shit!"

"Are you alright?"

Connie gives a toothy smile and a thumbs up. "Perfect, man. Went down the wrong tube."

Armin noticed the axe and broken keg. "Wood in the beer?"

"Adds a kick to it." Connie puts the half drunk, partly spilled glass on the table and left towards the second keg. "Could ya help me out, if you got the time?"

"Do you have a tap? It's an angular L-shaped..." Armin stopped, he forgot who he was talking to. "Like a sink?"

"Quit joking, Armin. I know what a sink tap looks like. I don't know where it is, must've missplaced it somewhere."

"Beer with wood shards; I should help him." Armin began examining the room around the makeshift bar: a large inverted U-shaped stand with a small opening to the right protected a large table filled with drinks and several kegs, one broken and dripping. The tap wasn't on top of any of the kegs nor the stand. It wasn't inside the glasses. If anyone took one, they'd point it out. There's no noticeable bulge in Connie's pants; there wern't many wearing their uniforms right now like Connie, but they didn't leave much to the imagination. And his jacket?

"Did you leave it in your jacket by any chance?"

He turned around quizzical like Armin asked him if the sky is blue. "You kidding?! I thought about that but Sasha insisted I leave it with her." At that moment, he had reached enlightenment as new knowledge slithered into his mind. "Oh yeah! I was gonna wait til she got the..."

"OWWW! Mikasa!? Come on!" *Thud*

Armin and Connie reacted to the door. A pleading Sasha in agonizing pain begging Mikasa to let her into the treasure trouve of goodies inside. "No."

"Then...then...I'm not helping you carry it." She crossed her arms and turned away.

"Okay." Sasha forgot who she's talking to; Mikasa, with mere effort, took the handle and dragged the cache to the mock kitchen , not before stopping by Eren and Jean's contest.

"Eren, would you like to help me carry this? It's too long for me to pull properly."

At that moment of weakness and before Eren could dismiss her, Jean felt a stinging sensation leaking down his natural crevice. His hand fell to the ground sequentially like the blood.

"Never call me an eternal cow again!" He tuned away from a prone Jean and towards his "sister." "Why can't you pull it by yourself?"

"Please, Eren. I need your help."

"Alright," he looked back down at Jean, "and don't forget, your treat, right?"

Jean nodded, trying fruitlessly to hide his reddish hues from the girl he's trying so desperately to get over. It's a shame the bruises decorated his torso.

"Let's go." He lifted his end of the crate and followed Mikasa to the kitchen unbeknowst to them, a stationary Armin watched the incident. Normally, and he himself took note of the absurdy of his behavior,would have stepped in to mediate the two rivals, or exceptionally took point of Mikasa's change in behavior: she would've never asked Eren for help she felt she could do herself; she's done a lot of things differently since Eren obtained the coordinate ability, not noticable unless you know her conventionally actions; the little things only those closest to her would notice.

Tonight, Armin took notice of their strength; the capability of their bodies. Eren is the "saviour" of humanity and Mikasa is a military prodigy. As much as Armin takes comfort in his intellectual abilities, there is always the small part of him that tugs on his brain, whispering to his ear, "not good enough." Some days it never bothers him, other days it does.

All he did was stand and watch as Jean picked himself up, wiped the blood from his nose, and mumble to himself: cursing at Jeager again for another peeve, at himself for falling for a woman who already had her unrequited John, or at her for choosing him, Armin couldn't tell.

Too much noise everywhere tonight: MPs, former MPs turned Scouts, and Scouts enjoying the evening with noticable absences from the higher-ups; no way Levi would dare step into this filth, and Hange took no time to go to her lab for something. He thought about going to Erwin and discuss plans for retaking Wall Maria but he could already hear Erwin telling him to go and enjoy a hard earned victory. Of course, there was always...

"Yo, Armin! Earth to Armin!"

"Yeah?"

Sasha cut in. "I told you he wasn't asleep."

"Some people sleep with their eyes open."

"Whatever, you know what you owe me and I expect it when me and Armin get back."

"Wh-what?"

Connie clarified to him. "See, I need to keep an eye on the bar, now that the tap's back, but we're still a little low on whiskey. Sasha knows where and I need two able-bodied buddies to go up to the wall and grab some."

"Oh sure." Armin cracked a smile.

"Race ya there, Armin!" Sasha galloped her way outside and Armin began to follow suit, until Connie grabbed him by the arm.

"Hey, are you seriously alright? You turned into a statue for a little while there, something on your mind?"

"I appreciate it, but it's alright. Just tend to the drinks."

Connie seemed a little disappointed for a moment. He quickly smiled and prepared to make his way back. "Well if you change your mind, you're humble host will be here to give an ear out. And about time too!" It took him five minutes to notice the long line of patrons wanting his wares.

"It's only through here!" Sasha's yelled out ecstatically through the columns, going up a mysterious staircase up to the ramparts.

"Have we ever been up here before?"

"I have. It's a pretty quiet place if you wanna get some shut eye or a private feast." When they managed to reach the top of the wall, Armin saw the true treasure that bestowed them: a perfect view of the moon looking down at him, stars as clear as daylight. Too easy to get yourself lost and forget what world you're on, and how long you may have.

"Noticed the view, huh?"

"It's spectacular. No one comes up here?"

She shook her head. "No one from my experience. Not even Levi's been up here. If he did, we'll never hear the end of it."

"Is it dirty up here?"

"Not on the wall. Inside that shed there I'd bet the dust bunnies have dust bunnies." The shed looked older than the rest of the wall. There is a special lock that kept the door shut from anyone. Some rust has ordained it. "I tried jimmying it, but nothing. Know anybody good with a pick?"

"Afraid not. Why not Connie?"

"Have you spoke to Connie? I ask him for help and I'll never hear the end of it."

"He's not still like that, is he?"

"Lucky you, with your own loyal kliq." She motioned towards the barrels leaning against the side of the open archway. "Help me carry some."

Armin prepared to carry the barrel of whiskey next to Sasha's, who already lifted hers. It's heavier than it looks. Armin almost loses balance. Not now! He thought to himself.

"Be careful!"

"You're not going to try and drink it before we get there?"

He couldn't see but Sasha was clearly giving him a look. "I don't care about liquor...although..."a large smile creeped on her face "...I heard from Hitch you can marionate steak and chops and beef and so many other things with it!" She began to drool in anticipation. "Let's hurry this up, Armin! We have dinner to snatch!"

Armin wondered how he was going to survive the night, slowly keeping the pace on Sasha who can somehow remain so agile without dropping her barrel once. He wanted to spend the evening a little differently than perform errands for Connie, but he also figured when would be the next time he and everyone else could relax like this? It kept his mind off of a lot of things and it stopped him from going back down to the basement, not that he didn't find solace in it. Perhaps he'll enjoy himself.

Well, when proposed with a theory, whatever else is there but to test it out?

Elsewhere-

Somewhere else within the Scout Regiment's main base across from the massive shindig of Dionysian beauty, a seperate party has formed amongst the higher-ups. There are no drinks or meats or guitars to play, but for Hange and her reluctant partner-in-crime, Mobilt, it was a party of discovery; a celebration of new knowledge.

A test is being done. Mobilt had spent the last few hours formulating and producing several catalysts for the experiments to go underway. A dangerous plan and extremely unorthodox. Along the farthest rims of Wall Rose lived several former Marians and Rose farmers. A while after the fall a new plague began to decimate the land: Catalac. A basic name from a basic tongue. it worked quite differently from a regular plague: similar to the black plague, it left their victims with pulsating black spots all over their body, an insensitivity to external stimuli, and paleness of the skin. It thrives in filthy conditions: contaminated water, poor livestock, poor hygiene.

There was one big difference Mobilt found out: no one died of Catalac. Why? The reason is why he and Hange are using a non-contagious form as a catalyst: it is a retrovirus: it works backwards into the body, infects its biological essence, and invades. Hange likened it to an enemy Titan Shifter like Braun or Hoover. No wonder why she wanted to play with it.

"And done." Hange stormed in with a large stored pot filled with blood; Titan blood.

"At long last, Mobilt, we are on the precipice of something great! Are you as excited as I am!?"

"Hange, please, let's just see if this works first before you get ahead of yourself."

"Have it your way, kiddo! How can I not be excited when we're taking a huge risk! We could get infected or we could make something no man dared think possible, could you imagine it?"

Mobilt grabbed some of the tubes as well as the blood labelled with all of the names of surviving Scout members. Like a lightning storm crashing into a tree, Hange grabbed the first one she could and prepared the first catalyst. Mobilt wrote out what she was doing, talking out loud in the process.

"We first applied the catalyst, a non-contagion form of the plague Catalac, into experimental samples of blood of members of the Regiment. This is to make sure the Titan blood can mix with it in a homogenous rate. The first subject is..."

"Oh poo! Mine didn't do anything! That sucks."

"...Hange Zoe. Nothing happened when the Titan blood was introduced. We will store hers, as well as any others without immediate changes for the next day with 6 hour rotations to monitor alterations."

"Not even Jaeger's had anything? He's already both!"

"What would that do to a Shifter if it worked!?"

"Combine the two forms? Make him have perfect control over his Titan form?"

"Or it could permanently transform him!"

"Oh darling, nothing ventu-"

Mobilt groaned. He's heard that phrase more than he's been alive.

Several minutes pass and so far nothing has altered.

The Ackerman's didn't have a single change, the former Krista found nothing, nor their Commander had a change, though Hange wagered he would never want to know even if it did.

One blood sample changed: the blood became smokey and the red thick boiling blood of a Titan fused perfectly with the calm red vacuous blood of a human. Hange began salivating and hyperventiliating. Mobilt sweat.

Mercury snuck into her veins as she prepared a slide and leapt gracefully to a microscope to examine the material, her excitement rose greater and greater with each passing second, she forgot her glasses were in front of her face. "Mobilt! The particles, the cells, the bonds..str-onger! They became stronger! We need to perform more experiments! Whose blood was it!"

Mobilt looked cautiously at the name of the blood labelled on the tray.

"Arlert, Armin."

"Yes! Him! How much blood do we have left?"

The Scouts do biweekly blood tests on every scout member as a medical percaution, and very much so a security one. Titan Shifter blood acts slightly different from human blood. It's important to check these things. "This was a small sample, we probably have a litre or two more."

"Excellent. When can we bring him in?"

"Wait, Hange, we still need to perform more tests on his blood before we can test it out on him. We're not sure how much of the catalyst is required, or if it'll just give him plague."

Hange pondered for a moment and agreed. "You're right. Let's do that first." She then thrust her hand in the air, scaring Mobilt ten feet off the ground. "In two days! He comes here! Got that?"

He took a breath and made his way back up. "Yes, Hange."

"Beisdes all those kids are having their fun. Let them have it."

He nodded and remembered the party. He wondered how much liquor they had left. A keg or two sounds very appropiate.