Gerissene Flügel der Freiheit

by kittykitty30

The Wings of Freedom have always symbolized hope for a better world. Now, anyone caught brandishing the emblem is to be killed on sight. When the government fails in their attempts to rid the Walls of the Survey Corps, they turn to more desperate attempts- including deals with traffickers, Black Marketers, and even the Garrison. Will the Survey Corps survive the corrupt system?

1. Prologue- Journal Entry

Not too many soldiers made it, and those who did, fled. I can safely assume the Survey Corps is now short of 120 personnel. I was assigned to the read guard, which was taken out first, followed by the relay teams and standby. I'm not sure about the status of the command, scout support teams, forward scouts, carts, or cart guard teams- I assume they suffered losses, but not nearly as many as we did.

We were accosted by a large group of people near the middle of the day. They were incredibly fast, and were able to dispatch us quickly enough to escape the Titans they brought with them. They used Titans as a lure, and since we were distracted, we only noticed them when it was too late. The people- who I suspect were working with the Garrison and Military Police- quickly made their escape, leaving us at the mercy of the Titans.

I'll be dead by the time this is found, so read carefully. This was no small accident, these people are out to get us. These aren't the traffickers, these aren't people who just want to make money off of us. If they were, they wouldn't have killed off so many soldiers. 120 people can reel in a fortune on the market, especially soldiers, but they were slaughtered like insects. That can only mean one thing: we're being systematically plotted against.

My time's running out. I can't remain hidden forever. The date is November 3rd, year 852. This was the 58th mission into Titan territory, conducted from the Utopia district and- due to unfortunate circumstances- finished just outside of Trost. I'd give context if I had the time for it.

This entry is coming to an end. My legs are broken, and my head is pounding- likely from where I hit it when I hit the ground. I want you to know how I died because it is important- the Titans are showing intelligence. One of them kicked me off of my horse and picked me up, but it did not eat me, as I thought it would. Instead, it threw me into this forest, and where I landed is where I am now. It did not pursue me. It wasn't a deviant, nor was it a Titan-shifter- I have a gut feeling is was something in between the two. Either way, that information will be vital in the future.

My name is Armin Arlert, 16 years old and a soldier of the Recon Corps. Our mission status is unknown, but one thing is certain: we are under attack.