Jahr Unseres Gründers c. 844

Shiganshina District, Kingdom of Paradis

Had her child been anyone else other than Eren Jaeger, Carla might have been concerned when she woke to find her son's bed empty and both scarf and coat gone.

But, this was not the first time that Eren had decided to disappear in he early hours of the morning, and he always ended coming back before long, either under the arms of Hannes or alongside Armin after engaging in some shenanigans.

Nonetheless, she wasn't about to let his absence go unexplained, so she moved to ask the only other person in the house.

"Grisha?" Carla yawned as she stepped put of their shared room. "Where did Eren go?" She gazed at her husband blearily, eyes still heavy with sleep as she made her way to the kitchen.

"Good morning," Grisha greeted his wife. He continued to rifle through his bag, checking it's contents. "He ran off to see the Ackermens," he answered.

"He ran off again? Really? That son of yours…" Carla scowled slightly, but the light in her eyes gave away her hidden laughter.

Grisha shrugged. "I suppose he couldn't wait to meet Mikasa."

Carla laughed, and went to prepare breakfast for her husband. "I think I'll come with you today. I'd like to meet the Ackermans as well, and make sure Eren stays out of trouble. You know how he can get."

"I wonder what side of the family he gets that from?"

"Grisha!"

The nine-year old in question was currently coughing his lungs out by the time he reached the gate that marked the border of the District, somehow managing to stumble towards a stream near the beginning of the forested part of Wall Maria that held the Ackerman residence. Why Eren had chosen to run all the way, the Titan Shifter wasn't too sure, but his body was vehemently protesting the action regardless.

Obviously, the stamina basic training had given him had not followed him to this new time.

Funny, he frowned. I do have time. Lots of it.

It was a strange concept, knowing that he was no longer limited by the thirteen year limit. He now actually had a whole lifetime ahead of him, assuming he didn't die early for some reason. Even before he had discovered the Curse that had been placed upon him, Eren had always assumed that he would live his life fighting in the Survey Corps, and never once had he thought of what could come after.

Come to think of it… the abolishment of the Curse applies to the other Shifters as well, doesn't it?

Well, that'd be something to tell Dad. At least he wouldn't have to be eaten.

Snapping out of his reverie, Eren decided to rest by the riverside for a while, and put his back against a tree. He knew the traffickers weren't due until near-noon, so there was no need to rush.

So he lay there, watching the sun peak over outer Wall, and let his thoughts drift.

Considering who he was trying to help, his thoughts brought him to Mikasa.

What he had said to her that day, he had meant some of it. He truly hated slaves more than cattle. The other thing he spoke, well…

"Mikasa, I've always hated you."

That had been a lie. One that, had he been anyone else, or had he been lying to any other person save those two, Eren doubted would convince anyone. But, Eren had seldom deliberately lied to his friends before, and they had grown used to taking his word for what it was, something that he had known to exploit- and he had done just that. All it had cost him was the broken friendship of the people he trusted most in the world.

It did not change the fact that it had worked spectacularly. He had gotten what he wanted out of that conversation, no matter how much he hated himself for it.

But...

Eren clenched his fists. Not this time. I've been given a chance. I'm not going to waste it. I'll keep moving forward to save them all?

Even if it means damning everyone else?A dark voice whispered from the recesses of his mind, and Eren steeled his heart.

Yes.

Carla wondered who could be knocking at the door at this time in the morning. She shrugged it off as she went to answer it, only pausing slightly when the woman heard her husband's voice emanating from downstairs.

"Carla!" Grisha called from the basement stairs. "Can you get that? My hands a quiet full at the moment!"

"Already on it!" she called back, and she continued towards the door, brushing some non-existent dust off her dress out of habit before opening it.

For a confused moment, Carla thought someone had pulled a prank on her, seeing as nobody stood before her- at least, no one of her height, something she realized after she had adjusted her gaze downwards and caught sight of her surprise visitor. Blinking, Carla smiled

"Ah! Good morning, Armin. You're up early. Why don't you come in?"

Carla was quite fond of Armin. One of the admittedly few (okay, only) friends Eren had made during his nine years of life, the blonde boy had been a frequent visitor to house ever since the two had met one day, and he was no stranger to arriving for seemingly no reason at some god-forsaken hour, be it day or night.

The time he had snuck into Eren's room dressed in black robes as a revenge prank would forever be emblazoned in her mind. She had jumped at every gust of the curtains for a whole week, to Grisha's amusement and Eren's confusion.

The look in Armin's eyes, however, told her that there was an actual reason for his visit that did not involve pranking her son. It was, to her concern, a somewhat haunted look, a look that she had only seen once, on Grisha, the first (and only) time she had asked about his family.

(A question that he had never answered, now that she thought about it.)

Armin nodded, accepting her invitation and stepping into the Yeager household, although keeping his shoes on, indicating a quick visit. "Thanks, Mrs. Yeager." His eyes darted to the basement steps with an intensity that surprised Carla. Why was he so interested in the-

"Is Eren here?" The boy looked at the mother with searching eyes. They seemed... different, from the last time she saw them. Older.

Odd.

But, she digressed.

The question had snapped Carla out of her reverie, however, and she answered as she went to prepare a snack for the young blonde. "No, I'm afraid not. He went ahead of his father to the Ackerman's house."

Armin flinching at the mention of the Ackermans did not go unnoticed by the mother, and her curiosity only grew

Why did Armin come here?

Carla buried the thought for further examination later, and continued to speak. "We'll be going over to their place in a few hours, since we can't just show up at their house at 5:30 in the morning. Something I need to teach Eren, apparently…" she grumbled out the last part. "While we wait, do you want anything to eat?"

"Aahm no thanks, Mrs. Jaeger," Armin shook his head, politely declining the offer. "Maybe I'll run into him later. I'll talk to him then." Turning, the blonde waved goodbye as he turned to leave the Jeager home, and Carla watched him go with a mildly-worried look on her face. "What's gotten into him, I wonder..."

Her muse was cut short by her husband emerging from the basement, and the question sank forgotten into the back of her mind.

A few hours past, the sun finally rising over the 50-meter obstruction that was Wall Maria and continued to rise with each passing hour.

Eren wouldn't know, for he had fallen asleep.

He would later reflect that it was the most restful sleep he'd had before the Walls fell.

The Titan Shifter woke up around an hour to noon, rested and refreshed, and started his trek to the Ackerman homestead, taking care to stay off the path worn by other travelers over the years. If he remembered correctly, the traffickers would probably do some reconnaissance before striking their target.

So, simply put, they would be divided. And it was then that Eren would strike

Eren wondered to himself if it the forest was thick enough to hide any signs of transformation from any possible passer-byes. The last thing he needed was his father, or the Military Police on his case.

After sneaking through the forest, an easy thing thanks to basic training (easier without clunky ODM gear, noted), he came across one of the traffickers, spying on the Ackerman house with a spyglass no doubt stolen from a shop somewhere, his back to the time-traveling Shifter.

Eren grinned. That's a mistake.

Not that he'll live long enough to learn from it.

He pulled out his knife, then lunged toward the man's back.

Unfortunately for the Shifter, he overestimated himself.

Or, rather, he had forgotten he was no longer in a nineteen-year old body, but a nine-year old one, lacking the muscle for his muscle-memory and the limb-length for the thrust.

So, unfortunately, his attack fell short, and he fell to the ground with a not-so-stealthy grunt. Before he could even think about recovering, the would-be victim quickly turned in surprise around and kicked Eren's stomach out of a knee-jerk reaction, forcing him to drop the knife gasping for air.

Groaning, Eren tried to reach for his weapon, but the man moved it out of his grasp, then grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against a tree.

Shit.

"Oi, get over here, boys!" he called, and a few moments later, his fellow compatriots and wandered over to the man.

"What's up, boss? Where'd you find the kid?" one asked. The 'boss,' who was holding Eren by the collar of his shirt and holding his knife, shrugged. "The little bastard tried to kill me. He missed." The man grinned at that. "Maybe he's friends with the Oriental brat who lives 'round here!"

The goons laughed, and Eren glared at them. Fuckers. That 'Oriental brat' is my-

"Well," the boss spoke. "He obviously knows what we're doing, so he has to be disposed of." He raised the knife to Eren's throat and nicked it with the blade, drawing blood. "This'll teach you to attack your elders, brat. I'm gonna take my time with-"

The man raised in eyebrow in confusion as the kid, instead of screaming, ignored his wound and the threat of a slow, painful death, and closed his eyes briefly, before glaring at him with a rage he never would have thought to see on a kid. "What's with the glare, kid? Trying to scare us?"

"That's a question I should ask you," he grunted. "Trying to scare me with death?" The kid chuckled darkly.

"It's far to late for that."

Abruptly, golden light emanated from his wound.

It was the last thing the traffickers would ever see.

It was laughably easy to get rid of the other traffickers after transforming, but Eren wasn't laughing.

Damn it! I should've realized that my lunge was shorter, like everything else. He growled to himself. Mistakes like that got people killed.

As soon as he was done with this, he was heading back to start a training regimen. He couldn't afford to move as sloppily as he just did. Shadis would've had his hide if he saw that.

He only had one year before the Warriors arrived, after all.

After smashing the humans into puddles of blood, flesh, and bone marrow, he maneuvered a broken tree over the remains. The 'cover up' part done, the Shifter crouched, the nape expelling steam as Eren exited the Titan. "No one travels here often, so i should be fine," he grumbled. At least he had learned to transform without the very obvious lightning that signaled a transformation.

His eyes automatically began scanning the surrounding forests for more possible threats, something he had picked up during his time in Marley.

Finding none, he shrugged, wiping dirt off his clothes, and went to check on the Ackermens.

Which is how he found himself frozen on their front steps a few minutes later, knuckles raised, ready to knock, but hesitant.

He, Eren, holder of the Attack Titan, was hesitating. Ironic, he thought to himself.

He wanted to knock, to actually meet mister and missus Ackerman for the first time, to look Mikasa in the eyes and tell her he was sorry for words she did not remember. That everything he had done was for them, nay, not just them. For their island. For the people who lived there. For the homes they lived in, like the one he had before the Fall.

...

Or, he could leave her here to enjoy a calm, peaceful life without his interference.

...

...

...

Eren retracted his hand, turned, and left.