Eren had been grappling with Reiner for the last several minutes, neither of them gaining the advantage. The Armored titan was bulky and well protected. Reiner also had far greater experience in utilizing this form than Eren did, although his strength of will and potent rage were serving him well in combat.

"Jaeger's gotten better with his combatives; I'll give him that," Blasa said approvingly. "Although, I'm not convinced he's got the raw power to breach the Armored Titan's hide, let alone kick his ass." Eren was training every day, but training doesn't stack up nearly as well against experience. "What are we going to do if he can't subdue Braun, or worse, he loses?"

"I'm working on that, lieutenant." Hange scrutinized the engagement. Every twitch of every muscle was committed to memory, the timing, the reaction, the speed at which all of them happened. An opening was in there somewhere. No defense, no matter how solid, was truly impenetrable. "Maybe if there were some cannons around…it's possible we could blast a chunk or two off his carapace with HE rounds."

Blasa shook her head. "Even if we did, he wouldn't sit still long enough to be shot." Artillery pieces weren't really known for their maneuverability, even with the tracks mounted along the walls. Not to mention that he'd probably smash the cannons before they could reload. "It might work if we, I don't know, could…attach swivel guns to our arms or some shit."

"What'd you say? Attaching cannons to our arms?"

"I'm just throwing nonsense out there. It's not like we could actually have swivel guns on our arms; they're solid iron! Do you know how many kilos they weigh?"

"Maybe that's because no one's come up with a decent way to go about doing it?" Hange grinned.

"Heh, your brain scares me sometimes, you know that?"

"And people wonder why innovation takes so long. New technologies, especially weapons of war, have a tendency to frighten the average person." With good reason. Humans were adept at creating new and interesting methods whereby they could more efficiently distribute violence. So, what's needed is to have something more terrifying than said weapon to wield it against. And on fields of Wall Maria, they arrayed themselves against such a foe.

Reiner was gaining the upper hand. In human form, he easily possessed the greatest physical strength of any in the cadets, a trait mirrored perfectly in the physique and movements of the Armored Titan. Eren's strikes hadn't yet pierced his armor, and in a battle of endurance, he was far above his classmate in ability. As Eren fruitlessly attempted to pummel him, he blocked with his left arm and drew back his right. Even on his back, his fist came hard against Eren's cheek, knocking him back at least two dozen meters.

Sloppy, uncoordinated, weak. If that's the best you've got, your race is doomed. Reiner got to his feet and started forward. What a pathetic display, a display unworthy of the power you've stolen. Far better souls than Eren Jaeger could only hope to grasp at the coattails of the gods, and here the arrogant fool was, making a mockery of those who rightfully bore these gifts.

The scouts hadn't made a move on him. They watched, but did not act. As suspected, mere blades could not penetrate his flesh, no matter the quality of the steel. Still though, there were those naïve enough to try. While the senior soldiers waited and planned, strategizing as befitted true warriors, a child would rush in without a thought.

Mikasa Ackerman came at him from the side. The nearby stand of trees provided cover until she was prepared to strike. No doubt she'd seen Eren go reeling and became enraged. Her swords shattered harmlessly against his armor, hardly leaving so much as a scratch. And yet, she attempted the strike again, this time going for his calves. A pointless waste of energy if ever there was one.

"That girl's trying to get herself killed," Terrelle said.

"She's not the only one of these kids without sense either." Blasa clenched a fist, frustrated. "I ought to give the whole lot of them a Grade-A ass-whooping." Jaeger too, given how much of a useless Jackass he'd been since Erwin took him into the regiment. He was getting beaten to a bloody pulp, just like the last two times. "You spend more time on your back than a cheap hooker! Get up and kick this beefy bastard in the dick!"

Eren stirred. Gouts of steam blasted out from bloody wounds, materializing fresh tissue out of the ether to heal him. The boy began to rise, letting loose a roar as he regained his feet.

(***)

By now, those unable to carry on fighting were positioned to watch the unfolding spectacle. The battered soldiers were reduced to spectators in this epic clash, like a crowd watching an arena prize fight. Eren was the underdog here, facing off against a champion among demons. He was inexperienced and far less durable in a brawl than his opponent. So, one could be forgiven for say, getting a little hopeful as they saw him defiantly rise to meet Reiner again. And there was an audible gasp when Eren let fly with a left hook that caught Reiner square in the jaw.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Erik didn't bother suppressing his enthusiasm. Enthusiasm which was mercilessly cut down as Reiner countered the blow with one of his own. The force quite literally sent Eren flying, a good thirty meters into the air and at least triple that distance backwards.

"Damn it…" Albrecht grumbled.

"We're all going to die," Ctirad followed.

"Are you going to keep that up all day?" Elise asked. Her patience for his pessimism had grown rather thin, and she momentarily entertained the notion of slapping him.

"Until I see a reason to be otherwise."

"Not sure what you guys expected," Aline added as Eren's tumbling body flattened a grove of trees. "Whenever Jaeger is around, things go to hell in one way or another lately. Not to mention he's always getting his ass handed to him." Whether that was in human or titan form. Watching as he continued to skid across the ground, gouging a swathe out of the earth, how else was she supposed to view him?

"Didn't we take lessons on fighting heavier opponents during training? Wasn't Eren super serious about it the last few months before graduation?" He scored rather highly during the final exam on hand-to-hand combat. Although, given that he and Reiner sparred more regularly than most, notwithstanding the times either Annie or Mikasa kicked them around, it could be argued that shared experiences took away any skill advantage Eren might've garnered.

Josh rubbed at the back of his still throbbing head. "Maybe he's running too high on emotion to fight strategically? He's all anger and no focus at the moment; which I can't say surprises me."

Gisele fidgeted anxiously. "At least…I don't know, he's giving it a try. The rest of us can't hardly do anything right now, so…" She lost where she was trying to take the comment. Her own eyes couldn't refute Aline's words.

"Does that mean we should be pulling out?" Sasha asked.

"We can't do that, young ones," Sergeant Shevchenko materialized, wiping the blood from her hands with a cloth. "Those two could very well bring down this entire section of Wall Rose," even if there were titans inside of it as Hange theorized. "Not to mention that they'll kill Eren Jaeger and Ymir, then we'll have lost any trump cards in our hand." Couldn't attack, at least not yet, and they couldn't withdraw either. The latter was more frustrating. Assuming Eren could be convinced to disengage, which was doubtful considering his temperament, nothing said that some more horrendous outcome would be avoided in doing so.

The wall's perimeter was a poor field for this battle. The enemy was few in number for once and the scouts were entirely outmatched at this moment. He that knows the most about his opponent may win against unfavorable odds, because he has kept something hidden about himself. And information was a deciding factor in war as much as guns and steel.

In times where inaction was the only course available, Iryna was most earnestly drawn into prayer. The Lord saw all events. Those past, present, and those which were to come. His purpose endured, in times of triumph as well as in times of suffering. The duality of mortal existence was ordered so: a taste of heaven, a taste of hell, and the power of his grace in all things. She knew this well. From her early days studying the scripture, she built her faith upon this foundation and wavered not.

Iryna clutched the Slavonic Cross about her neck and bowed her head. "Nebesnyy Bat'ko, blahayu tebe, let us see righteousness prevail whence the sun sets over these lands. Whether great or small, guide our forces to victory, that your people might endure against the darkness, and prevail against the machinations of the wicked." The words were but a whisper from her lips, a hushed reverence as she intoned His intercession. "Let be an instrument of your will in the midst of my fellows. Just as you commissioned a holy task for Isaiah, I say to you now, here am I, send me. Hear this, my fervent prayer oh Lord, as I ask these things in thy son's name, Amen."

She took in a deep breath and held it for a moment before returning her mind to what was at hand. She'd seen to the wounded as best she could with the supplies available. Young Historia and Giselle were most helpful in administering triage, which she hoped would one day see them replace her as chief medical steward of the regiment. She'd not seen either of the girls fight, but a healer's hand was worth the hands of ten slayers in the dire world they inhabited. A world she hoped the young man with titan's power might liberate them from.

"Though you fall again and again, rise, recruit Jaeger. Rise and holdfast to your duty, to your nation. For you bear the weight of a million souls on your shoulders."

(***)

Eren was a mess. Chunks of his flesh were dangling off from where rock had torn him. His face looked like a poorly made cut that a butcher sold for half of his usual price. The damage done by Reiner last blow was enough to make him stagger as he stood up again. Though he himself was unharmed, his titan form might be susceptible to brain trauma. Eren was, after all, only the heart of the nervous system in this body, there was still the necessary transmission node to send his commands throughout the appendages. He was essentially a pilot in a machine made of tissue and bone. His control over it only lasted as long as it would respond to his input.

It benefitted him then, that the crucial parts of his machine were the first to regenerate themselves. And with that regeneration, memories flooded into the forefront of his mind. Those months ago, on the training grounds, he'd learned and observed the techniques by which a fight could be won. It was clear that Reiner would crush him if this continued on like a bare-knuckle brawl. Under those circumstances, speed and subversion would be his ally. There was no such thing as fighting dirty on the battlefield, only winning tactics and losing ones.

He rounded to face Reiner again. There was a supreme confidence in his stride, an air of haughtiness it seemed. Fair enough, he was winning handily up to now. Eren was going to use that. Just like before he took the stance of a boxer, reading his fist for a right-hook to the jaw. Reiner mirrored his action, knowing that he'd invariably strike harder. Only this time, something unexpected happened. In the instant before Reiner's fist caught him in the face, Eren ducked the blow. He came up inside his opponent's safe zone, where he was too close to be hit. Eren then wrapped his arms around the shoulder of the Armored titan and threw his weight to ground. Reiner was catapulted over into the dirt. Without a moment to realize what had happened, Eren pinned him.

"Did y'all just see that?!" Sasha inadvertently let slip a burst of her rural accent, such was her surprise.

Those on the wall watched as Reiner tried to break free of the hold, only for the attempt to be flipped on him. Eren twisted his right arm and fell backwards, locking his legs around the former's neck and pulling. That move pressed Reiner's faceplate against the armor on his shoulder, as the force of the hold caused the material to bend. Segments of his protective dermis groaned under the intense pressure and emitted a gunshot-like crack, followed by a spray of blood as they started to shatter.

Josh nudged his way to the front of the onlookers. He stared hard for a moment, not entirely sure he was seeing things properly. The way Eren moved…the way he twisted himself about to lock Reiner in a punishing grip…there was no mistaking it. "He's using Annie's technique," he thought aloud.

"How can you tell?"

"The way he's using his leg muscles to form a vice, that's the way she'd subdue stronger opponents." Annie wasn't much taller than Historia. And yet, she tied with Mikasa for highest marks in the class on hand-to-hand combat. She was nimble and flexible in equal measure. Her slight, but muscled form moved about like a harlequin in a circus act, so fast that it was like she phased in and out of reality. It was both an amazing and enticing spectacle to see her move like that. And even in the most dangerous of times, the sight of her in combat caused his pulse to quicken.

That unique style of hers was burned into his brain. Although it was merely being copied, it was instantly recognizable. Eren had observed and taken it in very well. That fact was driven home again when Reiner pulled himself free, only for Eren to reverse the hold and pound his face into the dirt. You won't escape this time! He grabbed Reiner's arm and twisted it around. He yanked upwards as hard as he could; the armor plates cracked further and sinews frayed. There was a furious howl again, and the arm came flying off.

As Eren recovered from his attack, Reiner finally managed to push him off. He was plainly weaker now though. He was probably diverting most of his energy to healing his wounds. That couldn't be taken to meant that taking him down would be an easy endeavor going forward. Eren was surely mulling over this in his mind as he rose once more to face Reiner. The latter had lowered the armor piece covering his jaw, and steam issued forth from the corners of his mouth, something he'd also done after breaching the inner gate at Shiganshina. A weakness? At the very least it was a sign that he was expending a vast amount of energy and needed a moment to recover. Perhaps it was like the release valve of a steam engine in a factory? The buildup of pressure in the boiler needed to be vented periodically; it wasn't that far-fetched to imagine titans could require something similar, given their high body heat.

They'd seen in Trost that Eren only possessed a finite amount of power that he could use before having to revert to human form. A potential observation she'd made during his training was that his wounds also took more time to heal the more damage he took, as though the healing ability was spread across all injuries simultaneously. Studying titan physiology has also shown that these basic abilities functioned in a consistent manner across types. Definitely a weakness. Maybe this was the right time to press the assault after all?

Yet, someone felt it necessary to interfere, even at a crucial moment like this. They knew Mikasa was down there, trying desperately to save Eren, but Armin stayed on the wall where he could observe. Out of the trio, he was consistently the smartest, the least prone to rash action. Although, that didn't prevent him from being excessively foolish from time to time.

He was flying himself down to Eren's position. It was impossible to hear what he was saying from up on the wall, but he was frantically gesturing with his arms.

(***)

Blasa smiled. "I'm going to pummel these insubordinate brats. I'd bet you every coin in my pocket that he's telling Jaeger to run."

"But we're gaining the upper hand."

"Exactly," she said resolutely. "Which is why I think it's high time we get to cutting. We can strike at the cracked point in the titan's armor."

Hange held up her hand to stay any action. "Not just yet, they're too out in the open, not much to grapple onto with all of the trees that've been levelled. We need him closer to the wall."

"Don't you think that they'll cut and run if Eren is close to winning?" Terrelle opined.

"They showed their hand because they want him and the girl. Since they've been in hiding the last five years, I doubt they'd leave without their quarry. And the Colossal titan didn't generate his legs either; this is about attrition. No point in lashing out before we can actually sink our teeth in."

Blasa looked back at the melee. "Might I at least go retrieve Ackerman and Arlert before they, as our dear Sergeant Gerhard recently pointed out, gets themselves killed?"

Hange nodded. "Drag them back by their ears if you have to. And see if you can get Eren to lure our muscular friend a little closer. Then maybe we can give him a proper greeting." With that, Blasa sped off to attend to the wayward recruits. Hange hoped she wouldn't actually raise her hands to them, not here and now anyway. Barring the blatant disregard for orders, something else was wrong on this battlefield. She only wished her brain could decipher what. Her psyche was already overloaded by all the new theories and information gathered before this mess got dumped on them. An observer might discern the web of events as a giant, multi-party game of Kubikschach. One in which none of the players were in the same room.

Bertolt would have to revert to his human form to escape from the wall. During that time, he'd be completely vulnerable to attack, and the scouts could retrieve Ymir as his titan body fell apart or vanished. They would've known that going into the fight. Skilled infiltrators always planned with contingencies in mind. Individuals like that didn't go into battles that they didn't have a few methods for winning. Eventually, the rest of the regiment was going to arrive and then, Reiner and Bertolt would be undone. But no matter how hard she thought, Hange couldn't yet discern what their contingencies might be.

Thankfully, they were able to exert some control over the situation. Eren had been convinced to pull back to the base of the wall with Blasa and the other two. He was receptive to commands, which wasn't usually the case when he was transformed. To a certain extent then, they could choose favorable ground to continue the battle. Hange rappelled down the wall and landed on Eren's shoulder.

"Eren, if you can understand me, listen closely. We won't win this fight if we have to go about it muscle for muscle; he's stronger than you are. However, you've got speed and flexibility in your favor. If you keep cracking his armor, we'll have a chance to cut Reiner out. Barring that, do you think you can rip off another one of his limbs? I'd like to slow him down as much as possible while we're waiting on our reinforcements." Eren looked at her for a second and firmly nodded. In that moment, Hange felt a tingling sensation spread throughout her body. She'd spoken to a titan, and the titan understood her. Oh, glorious day! If only her notebook was with her right now! Communication between humans and titans hadn't been observed since the recovery of Ilse Langnar's notebook, which recorded the event during the last moments of her life in 848. What wonders could be uncovered through the mere practice of speech!

"Ma'am, your presence is requested up top!" Abel shouted down to her. "An advance party has arrived from Trost and are awaiting a situation report!"

"I'll be right there!" She glanced over at Blasa. "Squad command is yours, lieutenant; engage and support at your discretion."

"We'll turn him into schweinebraten, commander."

Hange nodded and patted Eren on the side of the head. "Let's win this, kid. Our cause is riding on you."

Reiner was about two hundred meters away from them. The two titans stared at one another like two gunmen facing off down a city street. What will you do now, traitor? I've cracked your armor and torn your limb. I can take you apart, piece by piece. How do you think this will end? You can save yourself if you run, but that's not your style. You once said that a true soldier can't back down from a fight. Come at me then, asshole; come here so I can kill you.

As though he'd heard Eren's thoughts, the Armored titan bent low and started running. Pleasing to see that he would face his death like a man instead of a snake. Eren assumed a defensive stance as his opponent charged. You're mine.

(***)

"Something's not right." Sasha Braus possessed the keenest instincts of any they knew. A youth spent hunting animals in the thick forests of Wall Rose honed her senses to a fine point. She could hear, smell, even predict the slightest change in a creature's behavior. She understood how and why they acted the way they did. The cunning of a fox, the savagery of a wolf, she knew beasts well, as well as if she was one herself.

"What's wrong, Sasha?" Albrecht had also gained a deeper appreciation for her instincts in recent days, when she'd been able to sense the arrival of the titan horde that attacked their outpost, well before the veterans saw them. When Sasha was spooked, you'd do well to heed her.

"The way he's coming at Eren…he's not attacking out of desperation."

"He just hasn't realized he's lost yet," Erik rebutted. "Reiner is too high on his own power to see he's bested."

Sasha shook her head vehemently. "That's not how confidence smells. Males give off certain pheromones when they're overconfident. He's giving off the scent of an animal that's playing up their injuries; he's setting a trap." The words weren't even a full breath past her lips when the situation changed.

A loud crackling sound echoed off the surface of the wall, followed by a noise not dissimilar to a hammer striking stone. The armored plates on Reiner's calves broke off in an explosion of bone. His speed nearly doubled. He turned his shoulder thirty degrees to his front and hunched low.

"SCATTER! He's going to ram us!" Sergeant Gerhard shouted. The scouts withdrew less than an instant before Reiner collided with Eren, slamming the latter into the wall. An enormous crack twisted its way upwards, spreading like tendrils on a bolt of lightning. The entire segment they were standing on top of shook violently. It didn't break, but there was enough damage for a few chunks of stone to come loose, and to cause numerous hearts to leap in terror.

Reiner's charge knocked Eren off of his feet, putting the Armored titan in the dominant position. He struck out with his remaining arm, forming craters in the earth where he'd missed Eren's head. Inside of his titan, Eren could still feel the reverberations from those attacks. A single one would've turned his skull into paste. I have to get off my back! He twisted his leg left around Reiner's right side and planted it against his abdomen. He put as much energy into his thigh muscles as possible and kicked. Reiner was again knocked loose, but Eren's back was to the wall.

"Since when is he so damn fast?!" Terrelle gasped.

"Shed a little bit of that plating and he turns into a foot-racer; that armor must weigh several hundred kilos a chunk!" The scouts flew around above the two titans, uncertain how to proceed.

"We don't even have the speed advantage on him anymore!" Blasa shrieked, enraged. "How in God's name are we supposed to counter this?!"

"I think he's shown us a true Achilles' heel." Hange looked over the Armored titan's body and wondered how it hadn't occurred to her before. "In wars long past, soldiers would go into battle wearing steel plate to protect them from swords and arrows. These suits of armor were cumbersome and heavy, but offered substantial defense for the wearer. They didn't cover everything though. Certain areas didn't have any protection, because it would've made it impossible for the wearer to move. Areas like the groin, the underarms, or behind the knees."

"There you go again with that brilliant mind of yours, again!" Blasa ran her tongue over her canine teeth and smiled that somewhat psychotic smile she developed in the midst of battle. "Do I still have the discretion to engage, Hange?"

"Have at it. Stain your wings red, Blasa. I'll actually take you up on that schweinebraten suggestion you made."

"With great pleasure." She performed a flourish with her blades. "Squad Four, with me!" She attached her grappling hooks to the most distant point she could and slammed her accelerators, gliding perpendicular along the surface of the wall until the squad was directly above the two titans.

Reiner certainly kept pressing his attack while they came to their senses, but it also meant Jaeger was keeping him distracted. He was on the ground again, being pressed into the dirt so hard that the earth's crust might very well swallow him. Fortune was kind to the scouts this time however, because it appeared Eren understood what was happening. He put Reiner in a headlock and squeezed his legs around the Armored's torso, leaving the exposed knee joints wide open for his soaring comrades.

"Terrelle, Nifa, Abel, Keiji, a pair of you each go for the legs. Cut the Achilles' tendon and knee joint. Ackerman, since I can't trust you to sit still for five minutes, stay on my ass."

"Are we going for the nape?"

"Smart girl, we've got a rotten bastard to cut out. Assuming of course that your boyfriend can crack those plates for us."

"It's not like that, ma'am." Sure it wasn't. Because blushing wasn't ever indicative of anything.

"Whatever, not my business. No need to get rosy-cheeked over it."

"Like you used to when you had a crush on Captain Levi?" Terrelle quipped.

"Sergeant, I will stab you in the perineum! So shut your damn mouth and get to slicing!" Terrelle chuckled and shook his head, but didn't say anything more.

The six soldiers let themselves fall. Abel and Keiji focused on the right leg, while Terrelle and Nifa took the left. The four of them used a brief burst of fuel to hasten their descent. Though Eren held Reiner in a solid grip, the latter's strength was clearly difficult for him to weigh down and he was already struggling to maintain his hold. Practiced veterans such as themselves only needed a moment to strike, however. After a couple of seconds, they tore their blades through treasonous flesh. Not one of them failed to cleave through their target. And in the time it took to snap your fingers, the Armored titan was crippled.

Reiner found himself unable to move his legs any longer. Whence that blow was dealt, he lost most of the leverage he had against Eren's chokehold. Now, he could feel his neck bending. The armored plates ground against one another: cracking, breaking, being reduced to chunks and splinters of calcified cartilage. His nape was about to be exposed. Come on, not now, not yet! I'm not going to die when we're so close!

Blasa saw their window opening wider. Deep inside that machine made of meat, the expression on Reiner Braun's face must be one of sheer panic. Nothing was quite so sweet as a wicked man fearfully clinging to his life. Iryna told her from time to time that it was the province of the righteous to bring the wicked to stand in judgment before the throne of heaven. And far be it for someone such as herself to refuse a mandate from the divine. She looked at Mikasa and smiled again.

"I can't wait to cut his head off."

(***)

"He's doing it; he's freaking doing it!" Erik clenched his fists together. "KICK HIS ASS, EREN, YOU MAGNIFICENT BASTARD!" Battered recruits watched with baited breath as the most crucial battle of the last fifty years played out below. Against all expectation, they'd turned things around. The noose was tightening.

"We might actually win this…" Ctirad half-whispered, the first positive thing he'd said all day. He allowed himself to feel hopeful. Everyone else was, so…it would be defeatist of him to continue being a doomsayer. He'd been so shaken up during the events at the castle, he wasn't thinking straight. A soldier should have more courage. Yeah, he was a soldier, and he'd survived hell to get to where he stood now.

But…he couldn't fully shake that uneasy sensation in his gut.

Reiner struggled against the grapple he was in, to no avail. Eren held him too tight for escape to be possible. Without full use of his legs, he couldn't force Eren off. You've gotta make your decision now. Struggle any longer and you'll be cracked open like an egg. Finish the mission, whatever it takes.

He dug his knees into the ground and started pushing. Even with only part of his legs, he could manage this. If he put all his strength in a singular task, he'd find victory. The pair began sliding across the ruined landscape. It's not that far. Just have to keep moving in a straight line.

Albrecht looked on with a modicum of confusion. "He doesn't seriously think that's going to accomplish anything, does he?" Any damage done to Eren would be largely superficial. He looked back at Sasha to see her reaction, and his heart jumped into his throat. She was pale, so very pale, and shaking like an aspen. Albrecht swallowed hard. "…What is it?" He dared to ask.

She turned to him with frightened eyes. "Alb, he's going to scream…" And sure enough, Reiner let loose that guttural noise which passed for speech among titans. Were a dog to bark in a similar manner, one might say the dog was trying to convey something urgent. An imminent danger that required assistance to overcome. Did he have an ability like the Female titan? Could he rally other titans to him? No, that didn't add up. Look as hard as you wanted, there weren't any other titans in the vicinity except Bertolt, and he was immobile. So what…

"Why did he do that?" Giselle asked anxiously.

"I…I don't know." Sasha fidgeted. He'd stopped moving right before the screams. A spot next to where he and Eren had initially fallen after their transformation. On one side of them, scrub and a few trees, on the other was the wall. Then, situated above them was the stationary form of the Colossal titan. What in the world was their game here? And something else, the wind had stopped.

Have you ever heard a branch break? A tree branch, a really thick one. When it's about to give out, there's a creaking, groaning that issues forth from the wood. It protests and laments the sundering of it from the host plant. And finally, when it can endure no longer, it violently snaps and falls. Have you ever been present when that happens? Because that's exactly what it sounded like.

The Colossal titan shifted and dropped a couple of meters. The ribcage no longer rooted it to the masonry. Connie was the first to notice what was happening. Full sentences failed to form on his lips, however. All he could do was shout and point. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, WHOA, WHOA!" Everyone else's eyes shifted in the direction he was pointing just as the Colossal started listing to the side.

"He's…he's going to drop on Eren!"

"Recruits, I want all of you to run. We have to pull back, now!" Iryna Shevchenko took off at a full run. "Section commander, lieutenant, get everyone out of there!" She yelled as loud as she could. When the smoldering hulk made contact with the ground, there'd undoubtedly be an explosion. It'd be like a tall, burning building collapsing in on itself, only bigger. The rush of scorching air and flame could vaporize those closest to the ground. As the monster tipped, gravity was taking over and he fell faster. "Blasa, Hange, ABOVE YOU!"

It wasn't certain to him in that moment what energy allowed his aching body to move so rapidly. In truth, he didn't realize he was moving at all until he'd already acted; his focus was entirely on the Colossal titan. Josh Kassmeyer knew there wasn't time to get far enough away. They had a handful of seconds at best, and in watching Reiner and Eren square off, they'd positioned themselves far closer than was safe.

He took Historia by the arm and pulled her in, wrapping his body around hers. "If you've got ODM gear, grab somebody who doesn't, dig your hooks in, and get down!"

"Kassy?" She looked up at him with those worried eyes of hers. Big, emotive blue eyes, like he was used to seeing. He hated himself for causing that expression so soon after he'd promised not to.

"Just hang onto me as tight as you can, like when we came up a while ago, yeah?" His grappling hooks bit into the broken surface of the wall and he lowered his profile as much as he could without putting his whole bodyweight on Historia. He lifted his eyes for a moment and saw that the others hadn't hesitated. Aline took hold of Elise, Giselle grabbed Albrecht, Sasha had Connie, and Erik covered Ctirad. Thanks, guys. That was the first time Josh ever issued a command. Nobody asked questions, or hesitated, they just listened. Now he just hoped they wouldn't get killed because of it.

He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. One second…two seconds…there was the impact. Three seconds…four seconds…the stone beneath his feet trembled and even through his cloak, he could feel the air on his back growing hotter. Five seconds…six seconds…the shockwave hit. It was far worse than the wind when Bertolt transformed, smashing into his body like a wheelbarrow full of bricks. Before, the concussive force, violent though it was, went mostly upwards, since he was standing on the wall at the time. Now, the wall acted as a barrier for the rush of air, shooting the scorching wind directly up at them.

At ten seconds in, the gust was powerful enough to rip off his scouting cloak. Josh felt the back of head and neck burning. The heat continued to worsen and he wondered if he might be immolated where he lay. He clenched his teeth and gripped Historia tighter. Fourteen seconds passed and the air pushed harder against him. His boots began to slide; his cables thrashed about. A half meter of ground passed underneath him. He heard the telltale sound of stone cracking; the grappling hooks weren't going to hold. There'd been too much damage to the wall where he was.

Twenty-two seconds…their grip gave out and the two of them were sent flying. He opened his eyes and the entire world was spinning. Up was down, down was sideways, sideways was up and down at the same time. There was no telling how high up they'd flown or what direction they were going. He'd stopped counting the passage of seconds. Josh stopped trying to think at all. What mattered was that he'd held onto Historia. At least, whenever, wherever they landed…he would cushion her fall. Am I going to die today? He wondered. When I hit the ground, will my spine break? Will I shatter my skull, or mash my ribs to pieces? Will I cease to be? Have I taken so much abuse that my heart's simply going to stop beating?

The fragility of his own mortal being coursed through his synapses for the first time since the Siege of Trost. Not since that day had he seriously imagined he was going to die. Curiously, it didn't frighten him, the thought of dying. Rather, he was disappointed and somewhat ashamed. Ashamed that, in his final moments, whatever brutal death might be in store, that the girl he'd adopted into his heart as a sibling, would have to witness it. What a shitty thing to do on my way out…

Whatever being dictated these things, he realized he hadn't considered it all that much in his seventeen years of life. Was God a loving creator, with a radiant kingdom awaiting his children when they departed the world of the living? Or was God like the watchmaker, tending only to the functioning of his mechanism when something broke? Would he actually go to the dwelling place of that which made him, or was he bound for Sheol? Would he find himself in a pit of suffering, or simply a cold, dark abyss, stumbling about with the countless souls of others while they awaited the judgment day? What if he was destined to be—

A jarring impact disrupted his existential musings. Josh landed on his side and bounced, dislocating his good shoulder and potentially cracking a rib. He watched his ODM rig fall away when he hit the ground a second time, absorbing the majority of the damage intended by gravity. He didn't bounce again, instead skidding along the surface of what he now knew to be the wall for several more meters before coming to rest.

For a few seconds, he did nothing. He didn't move, didn't speak, didn't blink. All he did was come to the incredibly painful realization that he wasn't dead. Every injury that the morphine dulled before throbbed vigorously. He couldn't tell if he was bleeding, but he was exceptionally bruised at least. Battered, beaten, and almost certainly in for a verbal lashing, but alive nonetheless. His equipment was probably was saved his life, although not in the manner which the designers intended.

Josh slowly spread open his arms and looked down at Historia. Minus a couple of scrapes, she appeared no worse for the frightening experience they'd endured. "You alright there, sis?" He managed through a pained smile.

"Yeah…a little shaken up, but I'm…okay. Wait, forget about me; are you okay?!"

"Well, I'm not dead."

"Obviously! Now give me a serious answer!"

"My arm just got popped out of its socket and my ribs hurt a little, nothing major." Coincidentally, it was the same section of his ribs he'd injured the last time he went in to save her. Which probably explained the cracking sensation he felt.

"I…I'm not…good Lord Almighty, I don't know if I've got words for you right now." Historia made to stand up.

"I'm fully prepared for any reprimand you see fit." Josh staggered to his feet. "You're unharmed, which is what matters to me." He glanced at his arm. A small price to pay, considering what he stood to lose. "Would you mind fixing this for me?"

She frowned at him, but nodded. "I can't keep repairing you forever, Josh; you aren't a machine." She gripped him where the joint had popped out of place. "Bite down on your sleeve or something, please. It hurts worse going back in than it does coming out." And despite bracing himself as she'd requested, Josh was surprised to discover that she was all too right.

"Thank…you," he gasped. "Now, we need to make our way back to the platoon—"

"What we need is to get your arm in a sling, dislocations can cause permanent damage if not treated properly." She ripped a length of fabric from her skirt and started folding it. Two times and it was safe to say that the garment was ruined. It was strong material though, and did well enough as a substitute when required. "Don't go lifting your arm above your head or anything. Do that and I'll punch you, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am." He looked around to get his bearings. In the distance, a pillar of steam rose above the wall. They'd been blown farther than he thought, but not so far that he couldn't see the soldiers congregating on the battlements. He started walking, Historia matching his step.

(***)

Richter Oschatz waited a good while before getting up again. He'd thrown himself over two of his wounded comrades and prayed for all he was worth. The heat, the howling wind, chokingly thick smoke, he held his breath and stayed face down, forcing his body to behave as deadweight. There was a moment during the tempest when it seemed like he was going to be blasted away. But just as his finger strength was slipping from him, the gale ceased. He heard the sound of giant footsteps, someone shouting, and then silence for a minute.

He lifted his eyes a little, hoping that they wouldn't be greeted by the sight of so many broken bodies. A sigh shakily left his lungs when he saw the others stirring. For once, nobody appeared to be dead. "Iryna, Terrelle, Lieutenant Tanzerin, can you guys hear me?"

"We're alive, kid. Not in the…best of shape, but we're alive," Terrelle answered him. Blasa was draped over his shoulder, unconscious and bleeding from a laceration in her forehead. "Do you have anything soft we can lay her head on?"

Richter immediately took off his cloak and folded in into a square. "You can set her down over…here." He placed the garment on the ground next to the wounded men he'd shielded during the blast. Richter gnawed on his finger as he watched Terrelle lower her from his back. Anxiety swelled within his breast; Blasa had never been injured in battle as far as he knew. "Should I find Sergeant Iryna?"

"Help her gather everyone else; we need to get a casualty count." He noticed his junior shifting uncomfortably. "She'll be fine, Richter. The cut's pretty shallow and she doesn't have a concussion as far as I can tell. Some water and a bandage are all we need for this one. Run along now."

"Yes, sergeant." He rendered a half-hearted salute and hurried away.

Their group was in bad shape. Worse than that feeble word could convey. A full third of their number were passed out, with most of the rest sporting burns of varying severity. No one weathered the blast and came away totally unscathed. Hange was among the most affected, much of her exposed skin marked by second-degree burns. Bertolt Hoover and Reiner Braun both escaped during the chaos, abducting Ymir and Eren in the process. The scouts were powerless to stop them as the treacherous dogs fled into the countryside. Some of those still able-bodied were assembled into a dispatch team to be sent to Trost District, where the main force of the scouts was preparing to deploy. The others rested above the decaying corpse of the Colossal titan, licking their wounds and cursing the morning's events. Former members of the 104th Cadet Corps stared dejectedly towards the horizon.

"We just got our asses handed to us," Albrecht took a piece of stone and chucked it down at the burning skeleton.

"It was pretty close there for a minute though. I thought we had them." Erik took a cloth from his pocket and wiped the dust from his combat glasses. "Should've guessed they'd pull an underhanded stunt like that."

"All's fair in love and war," Giselle added.

Aline scoffed. "Who's the jackass who came up with that line?"

"Johann Lyly, in the book Euphues."

"Am I supposed to know who that is?"

"He's an old-world playwright from a few centuries ago," Josh replied. "Mostly wrote comedies set during the Greccan period of antiquity."

"You're familiar with classic literature?" Giselle was genuinely impressed. She'd been unaware she had something in common with one of her compatriots.

He shrugged. "I spent a lot of time in the bookstore when I was growing up. Can't say it made me a scholar on the subject though." Best to learn writing from people who truly mastered the craft.

An edge of excitement entered her voice. Genuinely having a topic with which to start conversations, was thrilling, in spite of the current situation. "Perhaps we could discuss interpretations of his works at some point?"

"Maybe when everything isn't hurting so much."

"Oh, yes, of course. I didn't…mean this instant." Too eager, bad timing, foolish. She felt awkward again, appalled by her continued absence of common-folk social skills. The mood was quite clearly inappropriate for small-talk and the like. The intervening silence was evidence of that.

"Does anybody need some more water?" Historia offered after a couple more minutes passed. "This waterskin is still about half-full." There were several nods and the receptacle was handed around. The cold liquid soothed their raw throats, washing away the residual taste of smoke.

Ctirad held it in his mouth for a few seconds, savoring the fluid as he gathered his thoughts. "Alright," he began. "There's something I want to get out of the way, right now. Anybody else who's secretly a titan, please raise your hand."

"Nobody here is a titan, Ctirad," Elise answered wearily.

His eyes narrowed. "I'm sure that's what Reiner and Bertolt would've said too."

Aline rolled her eyes. "Anyone who had those powers up their sleeve would've used them to save our collective asses just now."

"With what's happened today, I think it's a perfectly valid statement! All of you, bite yourselves on the thumb."

"You know that's not how it really works. Only Eren's powers trigger like that. Bertolt and Reiner nearly got their heads chopped off and they didn't transform right away."

"That doesn't mean they couldn't have transformed that way. Come on, start chomping; prove to me that you guys are human!"

Elise groaned. "I've got half a mind to gag you and stuff you in a box. You really need to chill out."

"Think about it! Eren bites himself, Ymir made a cut on her palm, I bet even the Female titan uses her hand to transform!"

"I think it was a ring, actually," Giselle interjected.

Connie blinked. "What's that mean?" His wasn't the only confused expression focused on her.

"Well, it was like this iron band she was wearing, right? So, when she became a titan, Ann—" Giselle stopped speaking when she noticed how hard Aline was glaring at her.

Josh slowly stood up. "I…I think I'm going to go for a walk."

"Kassy, you should be staying off of your feet; sit back down."

He waved her off. "I'm not going to go very far. All I need is a couple of minutes to myself."

"Can I at least accompany you?" Historia asked.

He kept going. "Please…just a little while. I'd like to be alone." His voice was so quiet. Not right now. He didn't want to talk about that right now. Too much pain, too many wounds; he was overloaded on agony. No space left for emotional trauma to film. Recounting, what happened on that street a few days ago…that wasn't something he had in him at the moment. Keep walking, walk until you reach the next stanchion that divides the wall segments. Twenty meters, if that. Make it there and you can let it out. Each step hurt. It didn't matter. Putting one foot in front of the other for another moment, that's all he needed to do. A pity, Josh's body wasn't willing to support the endeavor.

His vision grew blurry again and he suddenly felt dizzy. "Damn you," he swore at himself. Shoulder, side, head, back, all these places produced the sensation of being stuck with a branding iron.

Aline watched with a mounting sense of horror as Josh swayed and collapsed. "Shit…shit!" She jumped up, breaking into a run as she stood. "Blondie, move your ass!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry; I shouldn't have said anything!" Giselle chased after her.

"Apologies aren't going to help, you idiot; get out your aid pouch!"

Historia took a step forward. "Kassy?"

Aline slid in beside Josh and propped him up. "Giselle, what am I doing?!"

She rolled her sleeves back. "Get his jacket off and unbutton his shirt, quickly." She opened the clasp on her pouch and rolled the contents out on the canvas mat inside.

"He's bleeding, a lot." The bandages on his left shoulder and around his abdomen were soaked through with a deep crimson.

Giselle grimaced. "His stitches have broken and the wounds are open again. We have to get the wraps off of him and fix the sutures." Aline nodded and set about unwrapping. Her hands grew slick the closer she got to finishing the task. Josh's breathing grew increasingly labored to boot. When the last of the dressings came away, she saw her friend's wounds for the first time. In Stohess the debris was still wedged in him, but the holes left in its absence made her blood run cold.

"Hang in there, buddy boy," she said softly.

"I think I overdid it today," Josh coughed.

"You bet you did, dumbass." Aline patted him on the head. "Giselle!"

"I'm going as fast as I can here! Can you see where the blood is coming from?"

"The fat fucking hole in his shoulder blade; where do you think?!"

"The source, I need to know if you can see the blood vessel where it's coming out!"

"Yeah…yeah, I think I can see it."

"Here." She thrust a pair of forceps into Aline's hand. "Clamp these around the opening for me and hold them there. I need to do the same with his stomach." Aline did as she was instructed. It took all the focus she had to keep her hands steady.

Giselle repositioned herself. Opposite of the gash in his side, the skin around his ribcage was a deep purple. She ran her fingers over the skin and noticed an irregularity in the feel of the bone. "I think one of his ribs is cracked. That impact is probably what ruptured his stitches." She delicately pushed back the skin around his abdominal wound and drew out her second pair of hemostats. The implement pressed into the opening which caused a splash of blood and elicited an intense cry of pain from Josh's lips. She grabbed one of the syringes from the mat and tossed it to Aline. "Stick the morphine right into the vein in the joint of his arm. Inject it steadily, but give him the whole thing. I've got to prepare ligatures to close off the blood vessels."

"Got it."

"I'm sorry again, for being such a huge pain in the ass," he groaned.

"Don't talk, just breathe. We'll patch you right up, okay?" Blood was spilling on everything. "Blondie, can I get some gauze here?"

"Just be sure to keep the forceps on the blood vessel. Most of this isn't arterial blood I don't think; so, he's not bleeding to death." That gave her a little more time to work. With the morphine slowing down his heartrate, they'd likely avoided significantly worse hemorrhaging.

"How much longer are those ligatures going to take?" Giselle didn't answer her, instead holding up a finger. Just a moment, a minute, what? Aline was trying to stay calm, but it was proving somewhat of an ordeal. As she tried to steady herself, she noticed that it was no longer just the three of the them. The others had, at some point, congregated around them in a semi-circle. That was just great for her nerves; working with an audience.

Historia pushed her way past the others and knelt down. "Let me help." Her eyes were dark, her voice robbed of the mirth so often associated with her.

"Take one of these ligatures and swap places with Aline; seal off the blood vessel in his shoulder for me," Giselle told her without looking away. The girl she knew as Christa Lenz up until now needed no instruction in the performance of field medicine. "Aline, if you could soak the needle and thread in peroxide for a moment? We'll need it for the stitches here in a minute.

Albrecht swallowed hard. "What the hell happened to him, Aline?"

"His wounds…the sutures tore and…Alb, can we talk about this in just a minute?"

"You mean he already had these?!"

"Yes, that's what reopened would imply!" She couldn't keep the aggravation from her voice.

Elise spoke more evenly. "The three of you vanished on us for a week, only to show up out of the blue this morning. Where have you guys been the last several days?"

Aline looked at her squad mates with a pained expression. "Can we please NOT talk about this right this second?"

"Stohess…" Everyone's eyes shifted.

"I told you to stop doing that." Aline begged him. "Stay still, stay quiet."

Josh sniffled, managing a half-smile. "It's the damnedest thing Alb…" His vision ebbed a bit on the sides. That meant tears were welling up in the corners of his eyes. In those first forty-eight hours afterwards, he thought he'd gotten all of them out, but they'd started rolling down his cheeks again and he couldn't stop it. So, he laughed. A sad laugh, the kind of laugh you make when you've experienced something so horrifyingly insane, that you can't help but think it's a joke. A cruel, cruel joke.

"Kassy?" Historia leaned back, unsure how to respond.

He looked at the faces of his friends. Blood, battle, and the best years of his young life forged bonds with these individuals that were stronger than the hardest steel. He'd cried fearful tears before they went into battle for the first time. He cried until he couldn't cry anymore when he laid eyes upon Jansen's body. He even cried and shook with rage after the 57th Recon Mission, like many did. And yet, never once had he truly shown himself to his brothers and sisters as a broken man. He crumbled before them now, shaking and sobbing like a newborn babe.

"I went to Stohess, only to find out I'd sold my heart to the devil. I stared her in the face, kissed her, right before I watched her murder at least twenty scouts. And assuming I've not yet made myself totally clear, I'll say it out loud, just so everyone's clear on the subject! Annie's the Female Titan!"

BOOM. There you go boys and girls! A second chapter up, just as I promised. These last few days, I've been belting out so many words on this keyboard, I'm worried I'll get carpal tunnel. The chapter in it's entirety is 9612 words, of which, about 7400 were written just since I submitted chapter 37 the other day. You guys are awesome for reading and enjoying my stuff and I got a much needed boost.