Fair warning, this chapter is a bit dark. Please read with caution.

"Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid."

Invictus-William Ernest Henley

Marco POV:

Shiganshina had been different since Eren left. It was a gradual change, like the changing of the seasons. First, it was noticeable in the air. How everything seemed so much quieter, void of the laughter that had often been caused by a mischievous green-eyed boy. Next, it had been felt in the Earth, as though the land was weeping at having lost one of its most prized possessions, the leaves and the flowers wilting, crying at their loss. And once born again, their colors seemingly lacked the vibrant hue that was so often looked forward to after long and dark winter days.

More than the Earth, however, was the pain that the humans who dwelled in the village felt. A feeling that only those who had spent years living with Eren would catch on to, the ache deep, crawling into their skin and making its way into their hearts.

It was felt most when one passed by the Yeager household, the quietness full of a melancholic air so heavy you could taste it on the tip of your tongue. Watching as Carla often stared wistfully out into the woods, wondering what sort of images she conjured up in her head to make the pain bearable... if one could call it that.

Marco hadn't been as close with Eren as the others; however, he still considered the young man a friend. A person he could confide in, someone who made him laugh so hard that his belly was sore for hours afterward. He couldn't deny that he missed the familiar sound of Eren's laughter, the way his eyes lit up when the leaves began to turn brilliant reds and oranges, how everything else ceased to exist around him when he was deep into a painting.

It had been otherworldly to watch Eren work, that paintbrush decorating the canvas and changing it from something plain to nothing short of magnificent. Marco had always thought that it had been akin to magic, to see such mesmerizing scenes unfurl and appear out of seemingly nothing. Until he'd met his first Fae.

What Eren possessed was a different kind of magic, a pure one. A magic that was set in his bones, would still be there even when the boy turned to dust. For the Fae, Marco thought of it as more of tainted magic. You couldn't use it without sacrificing something else in turn. It was dangerous, ripped a portion of your soul away, set you apart from the life that existed around you.

He hadn't been to the Fae realm, had no desire for it. Shiganshina was everything for Marco. He lacked Eren's adventurous spirit, finding that all he'd ever wanted and needed lay in the land that he had been born. He wanted to die here, have his body recycled into the Earth to create new life, and live on in death with those he loved.

Marco smiled at the thought as he gathered some logs for fire into his arms. There was a deer off in the distance, quietly munching on some grass as its tail twitched, black eyes seeking out Marco's and holding them. In moments like these, he couldn't help but marvel at how precious life was. The animal was gorgeous, intelligent, and it was hard to think that one day it could end up on his dinner plate.

Then again, one day Marco would die and be laid to rest in the Earth beneath his feet. And the deer that had once nourished him would be recycled back into the soil to bring about new life. It was a cycle, one that would continue until the end of time.

His finger nicked on one of the logs and he cursed under his breath as the sudden splinter, the deer rushing away at the sound of possible danger. This was a task that Jean typically handled, however, Armin had designed some new form of weaponry that the two were currently ogling over. It'd been a while since he'd seen his boyfriend so excited about something and he hadn't wanted to destroy the moment, not knowing when another would arise.

Besides, gathering wood wasn't a difficult task and Marco was plenty capable of doing it. Jean just liked to unnecessarily dote on him. It was a sweet gesture and he had no complaints, knew they would live a happy life together, no matter how long or short it may be.

Just when he had finished gathering the last of the wood and turned to head back home, he heard the rustling of running footsteps in the forest along with a "wait!" being yelled through the trees. Marco turned, brown eyes searching and watching in awe as a small girl with long blonde hair ran towards him, her wide blue eyes shining with tears.

He immediately dropped the wood and ran towards her, placing his hands on her shoulders and stopping her in her tracks as he looked over her body for any visible injuries. He had no recollection of ever seeing this woman before, and as their village was so small that it was impossible not to know everyone, he found himself feeling a bit anxious and confused. Those feelings were overridden, however, by his inherent need to protect those around him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice slightly pitched with worry as his eyes scanned the young woman's face.

"You don't have much time! Eren sent me here to tell you, the Hunt is on its way right now. You must get as many people to safety as you can. Gather those you care about the most."

Marco's mouth hung open in shock, barely registering the pleading face of the woman in front of him or the way she grasped his arms and shook him vigorously. His mind was whirling around like leaves being blown in the wind, hoping that this was some sort of sick joke. That the Fae were playing games with them. But…the Fae couldn't lie, detested lies, and the village had spent eighteen years lying to them. Eren…Eren had sent her here.

Everything clicked into place all at once and the next thing Marco knew, he was running faster than he'd ever thought he would be capable of. Breath huffing out of him in heavy pants, pushing himself to get back to the village he loved in enough time to…to what?

They were nothing against Ymir and her Hunt. Marco had read the stories, spent nights awake in bed, fingers trailing over-worn pages as words of terror bled into his eyes. The illustrations gruesome, detailing giant hounds with sharp fangs and blood-filled eyes, strong enough to tear a grown man apart with just one bite.

But...he had to do something. Jean was back there, happy and smiling, joyously laughing alongside his friend not knowing that their entire world was about to change. Marco would die before he let anything happen to Jean. He would die before he let anything happen to any of the people whom he loved. Shiganshina meant everything to him, each person full of so much life and potential, there wasn't a bad bone in the village. A rare thing to have in a world wrought with so much evil. He wouldn't allow it to be destroyed.

Marco ran to the very center point of Shiganshina where the alarm bell was, put in place long ago during times when the village wasn't safe from outside invaders before the Fae magic had rendered it invisible to those who did not know what they sought. The chimes rang loudly, a blaring sound that echoed through the air, destroying the calm peace that surrounded the village.

Every single person stopped simultaneously, ears pricking, eyes scanning for any immediate danger. The change in the air was palpable, Marco could feel it on his skin, strong enough to make every hair on his body stand on end. He stood there, at the center of it all, feeling the strength behind every gaze that was set upon his body.

Marco swallowed loudly and tried to look at every face, to commit each of them to his memory, not knowing who would survive through the night. He was so consumed by the sudden feeling of anchorage, of wanting to hold on to this single moment of happiness, of not letting it pass through his fingertips, not wanting to know what his world would be like after this, that he was rendered immobile.

"Marco, are you okay? What's going on?"

Jean's voice broke him from the spell, and he looked to his lover with wide eyes, remembering what it was he had to do.

"Jean, the Hunt is coming. Eren sent a woman here to warn us. We-we must do something. What can we do?" His voice was teetering on desperation as he spoke, eyes searching for an answer in those of his lover, the constant source of strength in his life.

Jean's face immediately hardened taking what could only be described as the visage of a warrior. He turned to the village and spoke loudly, voice booming with so much force that even the animals in the distance stopped to listen.

"Everyone, the time that we have been dreading for the past eighteen years has come. We've planned what would we do in case this scenario arose in secret, away from the prying ears and eyes of the forest. I know you are all scared, however, we must all be brave. For the sake of the future of Shiganshina. You know what to do."

And, one by one, like dominos falling into place, the faces of each adult villager hardened. The children looked frightened, confused at their young age as to what was going on. Some crying was heard, tears falling onto the ground, salty enough that the hounds in the distance could taste it on the tips of their lolling tongues. Hearts were beating so hard that you could nearly hear the pounding echoing above the sniffles and soft cries.

And then, movement.

Parents picked up their children, running with them in their arms to the deep dark cellars in the underground. Some stayed below with the younger ones while the others hugged them tightly, whispering words of love and courage in their ears before leaving them to go and join those who were preparing to fight.

Marco wanted to yell, to scream that there was no use in fighting against such a formidable foe, but Jean's hand squeezing his own told him all he needed to know. Despite the odds, no matter the circumstance, the village would fight to protect those they loved. Would fight to preserve the peace in a land that had, long ago, been wrought with strife. It is said that the reddish soil that made Shiganshina so unique was the blood of Fae who fought on this very land so long ago, back in a time before the creatures lost themselves, back when the magical beings accepted emotions rather than reject them.

Marco squeezed Jean's hand back, face hardening as he followed him to Armin's workshop to secure a weapon. Despite what the Fae claimed today, emotions did not make one weak. Rather, they granted you with insurmountable strength, providing you with bravery in the most daunting times. People had destroyed the world over love, defied the Gods themselves when necessary. It was, perhaps, the most powerful thing in existence. Nothing could conquer it.

Armin was already in motion when they entered his home, crossbow slung across his back while he handed out weapons to the others, Mikasa standing at his side with an iron sword and a look of stone on her face. The air was tense, teaming with anxiety and uncertainty, no one knowing if they would make it through the night. Marco swallowed his insecurities and grasped the crossbow that Armin handed to him tightly, fingers curing around the cool metal as he imagined what it might be like to witness death.

Sure, he had been there when elders in the village passed. When his mother succumbed to illness just a few years ago, his father following soon after. He was acquainted with the reaper, had looked him in the eye and shook his hand as his loved ones crossed to the other side. However, there had always been something peaceful about those passing's. An acceptance of death, greeting it as an old friend.

This would be different. This would be violent and bloody, full of unimaginable terror coupled with defiance. No one would be greeting death tonight as though he were an old friend, they would go reluctantly, a life taken in such a disastrous way was never one that was willing to pass to the other side.

Marco locked eyes with Jean, the rest of his friends fading as they said everything that they needed to in that one look. They wouldn't be fighting side by side tonight, would need to split up to help those who were less acquainted with the weapons, those who were weaker and had more of a chance of being gripped by death incarnate.

The corner of Jean's lip twitched up slightly. I love you.

Marco raised a brow in turn. You say that as though we won't see one another again.

A small shake of Jean's head. No, I say it because I can't possibly express it enough.

Marco's lips twitched in turn, the smallest of smiles adorning his features. I love you too.

And then, chaos.

He heard them before he saw them, rushing out of the house as the screams of the villagers adjoined by howls filled the night. It was one of the eeriest sounds he had ever heard, long and drawn out, echoing throughout the night sky causing every other living being in sight to retreat. Even the trees appeared to quake beneath such ominous noise, leaves drawing in to protect themselves, the air filling with a chill worse than any winter had ever brought.

When the first hound popped out of the woods, eyes red as blood, teeth long and sharp, tongue lolling with spit that flew through the air like raindrops, and more than five times larger than even Reiner, Marco knew. He knew that there was no way they could keep anyone from dying tonight. Yet, despite that knowledge and his fear, he would fight.

He exchanged one final look with Jean, nodding reassurance when he saw his lover's face pinched with slight worry, and then he was off. Running through the village, ensuring that those who had yet to retreat to safety were garnered safe passage.

A stray child was curled up near the side of a house, hands over his head as he shook and cried in fear. Marco swiftly slung his crossbow over his back before gathering the boy in his arms, muttering words of encouragement to the shivering bundle as he went off in search of one of the cellars. His eyes caught sight of Armin in the distance, hound looming over him with a look of pure hunger on its face, Mikasa screaming his name in the distance, and his heart stopped.

He was about to watch one of his friends die. Someone he had known since childhood. The smartest human he had ever had the pleasure of conversing with. And there was nothing he could do aside from look on, the sound of Mikasa's despair enough to leave him with nightmares for the rest of his life. However, the unthinkable happened. The hound sniffed at the small blond, tilting its head in what looked like contemplation, before turning and bounding off towards another target.

What was that?

The boy began to cry harder in his arms, breaking Marco out of his trance as he rubbed his back and spotted a pair of metal doors embedded in the ground. He quickly ran over to it, throwing one of the doors open before lowering the boy inside where other young children waited. Their eyes were wide, pupils dilated with fear, mouths quivering as they tried to keep silent.

"M-Marco. Is it over yet?" A young girl named Clarissa asked, face smudged with dirt.

"Not yet, dear. Don't open this door no matter what, promise? Stay down here until someone comes to get you."

She nodded her head and he gave her a tight-lipped smile, the only form of reassurance he could muster as a blood-curdling scream rose through the air. The first death. Marco quickly slammed the door shut, blocking the pandemonium from the ears of the children. Hearing that would only cause them to panic more. It would increase the nightmares that would surely plague the village for years to come. They must be protected.

With a grim face, Marco turned to once again face the destruction. His eyes were greeted by blood soaking the earth, half-eaten bodies sprawled on the ground around him. There had to have been about ten already, barely recognizable with the condition their corpses were left in. He felt as though a hand was gripping a heart as he walked up to the closest body, that of Hannes, an extraordinary brewer, and father-like figure to many of those residing here.

Marco kneeled, closing the man's eyes that had been left wide open in fear. His body was mangled, limbs missing, and guts splayed wide open causing Marco to have to hold one arm over his nose against the smell. His stomach swirled in discontentment and after a few moments, he had to look away in fear that he may puke. Grisha would be busy after this, tending to those who were wounded and left alive while helping dispose of the bodies.

Speaking of Grisha...Marco's eyes widened as he scanned the other bodies. Fear gripping his soul at the thought that any of them could be his friends or their families. What would it mean for Eren to return only to discover that his parents had been killed? He would be distraught, blaming himself. Marco needed to find them.

Marco stood up and turned, surveying the uproar. Hounds were bounding back and forth, snarling, teeth painted in crimson. They let out noises of annoyance whenever they were struck by iron arrows or a sword, for some reason ignoring their attackers as they continued to unleash carnage. How many more had been lost?

And then, he spotted it. One last stray child backing herself up against a tree, all alone aside from the hound that was slowly padding towards her. She was so scared that she couldn't even make a sound, mouth wide open and eyes full of terror. Marco didn't even think, didn't have to. He was the closest one to her, the only one who could save her life. He could accept that some had to die tonight, had stared down at Hannes motionless figure and knew it wasn't the only person he had loved that he would lose tonight. But a child? Someone who had so much longer to live, who hadn't even had a chance to think one venomous thought in her entire life? That...that he couldn't accept. He wouldn't accept.

So, he did the only thing he could. Marco ran, placing his body in front of her, letting out a howl of agony as the most excruciating pain filled his entire being.

A shout was heard in the distance, filled with so much power that Marco was unsure if his body was shaking from the pain or the sheer force of it. The hound immediately let go of him, looking distraught, as though it had just had a stern talking to. Am I delirious?

Marco's body slumped to the ground, barely aware of the little girl who was crouching over him, her lips moving but not making a sound. Brown eyes shifted, landing on a woman who was standing in the distance. She was beautiful, in an unearthly way. Her eyes seemed to hold galaxies within them, a light aura surrounding her figure as she stepped closer. There was a sadness that lived on inside her, evident in the way her body moved, as though she carried a millennium of guilt on her shoulders.

She crouched down next to him, close enough that he could count the array of freckles adorning her tanned skin. Her eyes searched his face, as though she was looking for something hidden underneath. Marco coughed, wheezing as pain wracked his entire body. He didn't need to look to know that his right arm was no longer intact, though he wasn't sure if it was the entire appendage or just a portion of it. The pain was too much, making it difficult for him to focus on anything other than keeping awake.

"You weren't meant to be one of the eighteen."

The woman frowned, eyes scanning his broken body.

"Humans. Always way braver than what their bodies can withstand. One should never put themselves in the way of a hound and its prey."

She reached out and placed her hand on his face, eyes all-consuming, sucking him in and transporting him to a place where he was surrounded by blackness.

Am I dead?

The darkness was suddenly illuminated by millions of stars, so bright that Marco had to bring up his left arm to shield his eyes. He didn't feel in pain any longer but noticed he was indeed missing the other arm, the air in place of where the limb used to be.

"Not dead. I have brought you here to heal you. I can't bring your arm back, that would be asking too much, but I can heal you. However, another life will be lost in your place. I am sorry, this is how it must be. There must always be a give and a take. Now, wake up."

Marco gasped, eyes flying open and body flailing as his soul was pushed back into it. He grunted in pain as his eyes searched the space next to him, dread filling his heart when he noticed that the young girl was missing.

Another life will be lost in your place.

Tears streamed down his face freely as he quietly sobbed, the impact of what had been done hitting him full force. He would have rather died in her place, had already experienced enough life that death would have been accepted by him. He had loved and been loved in return, traveled the land of Shiganshina, written countless songs, danced the night away, and laughed more in his lifetime than most people twice his age had.

Why did it have to be her?

"MARCO!" Jean's voice rang through the air, laced with panic, and a moment later the other man was kneeling in front of him, holding Marco's face in the palm of his hands as tears streaked his cheeks. He was covered in dirt and blood but unharmed and Marco couldn't help but feel relief.

"Holy shit, you're alive. You're alive. I was so scared when I couldn't find you anywhere. Y-your arm...shit. I need to get Grisha over here," Jean hardly breathed as he spoke, words coming out all strung together as anxiety filled him.

"How...how many?" Marco asked, voice barely cooperating with him.

"What?"

"How many...died?"

Jean looked away, eyes filling with a different kind of sorrow. The kind that one only took on when they shouldered the blame for a situation, carrying the weight of it with them.

"Eighteen lives for eighteen years," he spoke softly, still not looking at Marco as the revelation dawned on the wounded man.

One of the Fae had not been satisfied with their apology and this...this was nothing. A warning that to lie, to deceive, would not be tolerated. The Fae most likely thought they were going easy on the villagers, thinking they could have done worse, but what could be worse than this?

Armin appeared behind Jean, face full of exhaustion as he spoke, "Don't do that, Jean. Pull it all inside and shoulder the blame. We are all at fault here and we have paid for it. The only thing we can do now is recover."

Jean wiped his hands over his face and sighed, shoulders sagging as he answered, "I thought we had appeased them. Which one of them would have done such a thing? Do you think is was King Levi?"

Marco coughed, leaning his body onto Jean's as the other man helped him up so he could transport him to wherever Grisha was.

"No. Remember? Eren is the one who sent help and he is with the Winter King."

Armin's eyes flickered to his, widening in slight surprise at the news.

"If Eren sent help, it can only mean that King Levi is on his side. They are most likely working on a plan of their own. Come, let's go clean up. We must leave the rest to Eren."