Seeking the devil
"He's dead."
Floch's Glazed eyes stared into the hanger's ceiling no longer breathing, heartbeats turning infrequent, his ears failed him seconds ago though the Titans could remain felt still, tremendous as they are it would hardly matter for him as by the time they'd reach him he'd have already died. The afterimage of Jean and Hange left in the corners of his declining vision left him wondering why he hasn't died yet, perhaps too stubborn to let go of this cruel world, even with a gaping wound oozing blood from the neck.
He lay there in a pool of his blood, uncertain for when it'll all be over. Unable to lift a finger, or look around. This is the end, he thought to himself, though he clutched onto whatever sliver of life left in his crumbling body unwillingly. He feared not what death had in store, he fulfilled his sole purpose in this unforgiving world, now he entrusts the rest to Eren. Floch vehemntly believed in the devil to free their people from the shackles of this hatred carried by the world, thus leading Eldia to eternal glory. Eren shall be king.
He was satisfied enough, the only regret he had was not being alive to witness true freedom, to earn a long and comfortable life without having to worry about those damned titans or the threat of extermination, without having it be an absolute necessity to take the lives of others. it'll be all over, they won. He could have easily allowed that ragtag group of desperate idealists to slip through the port and partake in their unfeasible attempt at saving a dying world, no matter how insignificant the odds. Gambling the future of Eldia and the people who live there was not a choice he was willing to make should they succeed in halting the rumbling.
The Marleyans would have never considered peace an option, not before and not after the rumbling. After sharing an all too common and bloody history with the Eldians such prospects were purely naive. Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie were not sent away as emissaries for peace on that fateful day, they laid waste on Eldia with orders to retrieve the founding titan purely for the goal of conquering and expansion of Marley's growing empire, with indifference to the thousands of lives that perished within the walls.
Floch had to wonder why they had done it, why would they go out of their way to kill their own? To what end? To save Marley? The world? It was inconceivable to him. This betrayal was unforgivable. There wasn't right or wrong, there was kill or be killed. And now that the rumbling came to fruition, peace will no longer be acceptable on both fronts. Fools they were as they will be joining him in death soon. This world's bitter fate long since sealed, as everything which unfolded now was merely a consequence for their arrogance, Eren would make sure of that.
'What's...Happening?...'
The auburn-haired boy wouldn't know how to describe death precisely, it felt eerily similar to riding the locomotive, flashes of blurry neon colors whizzing past in a frantic manner, drowned out noises rushing around him and then following whatever reason ending pre-maturely as he reached the final station. An enormous foot came crashing down from the ceiling and flattened Floch Forster, turning him into a paste of blood and bone before unconsciousness could claim him, far away in the distant horizon, a flying boat soared in the skies to achieve an uncertain destiny.
"None of it matters as you lie, bleeding out, on the battlefield." - Erwin Smith 850 AD , addressing a crowd of terrified survey corps recruits, minutes before charging them into hell.
It wasn't graceful nor was it repulsive, it simply was and that's all there is to it, all that will ever be, this wasn't hell nor heaven, these weren't his thoughts, weren't his experiences because there was nothing there to experience, nothing to be understood.
Was this genuinely death? It wasn't harrowing as once imagined, being here, in this vast, yet shallow ocean of non-existence, neither floating nor sinking, akin to dreamless slumber, in here thoughts became numbingly elusive that at any point where something that could be considered consciousness could be grasped, it would slip away to be consumed by the void, nothing tangible felt nor gained, knowledge swept away and no memories to fall back on. What once was a person, doomed to ceaseless forgetfulness in the embrace of the dark. A fading memory of a man who once lived, fated to wash away in the sands of time for where he resided, time was rendered obsolete.
Whereas life expressed the beginning to many, there is no telling whether death was the end, although all life must carry on regardless. This was and always will be the nature of this existence. However long must have passed, or hasn't. Those dubious lights relit anew dragging him back into focus, an eternity of serenity broken by otherwordly circumstance.
Floch Forster found himself aboard the locomotive once more, to be taken far from this void and transported to wherever fate would carry him, regardless of his wishes.
Sometimes death isn't an end to all things but merely a path to something far terrific.
Laughter.
Floch Forster blinked, slowly coming to grips with the situation. Laugher, shook him out of his stupor. The auburn-haired boy looked to his left and right in utter befuddlement, surrounded by a familiar setting. This time and place used to be a hazy memory. Now, he was thrown right back in it.
'What's going on? this is...'
Ice rushed through Floch's veins as he realized who stood by his side. To his right-hand stood none other than Annie Leonhart, ever the ice queen. His heart pounded against his chest at the proximity to the female titan.
'SHIT!' He tensed as instincts kicked in. the blonde-haired girl took notice of the sudden change in behavior and shot him a glance from the corner of her eye, sending Floch into a frenzy as he tried his damndest to play it off.
"Hey..." She began, her tone making Floch jump in anxiousness. "What are you staring like that for?" she questioned, her lone blue eye boring a hole into the side of his head.
"Y-you look familiar, that's all!" He answered bashfully in the heat of the moment. Inwardly cursing himself for the slip up.
"Fucking moron." He heard her mutter under her breath as she went back to observing the helpless Eren Yeager struggle with the ODM gear training post, much to the amusement of the trainees around.
Floch stood there mortified, doubtful that he would forget about what had just occured any time soon.
'That was close.' Floch inwardly sighed. In his mind, gears began to turn as he soaked in everything around him.
Never in a million years could he have anticipated this, to be back here once more. To stand out in this scalding heat, to feel the rush of the wind on his smooth skin, to be reborn anew into this world. Him of all people, Floch Forster. It was outrageous, a cruel joke played on him by some higher power, at any moment he'll be snatched away from this dream and shoved into that cold void once more.
'This can't be fucking happening, Is this death? unless...' Floch decided to test his theory, "EREN! CAN YOU HEAR ME!?" He shouted at the sky, startling those around him.
"WHAT!?" Eren called out in frustration from his position, upside down and flailing desperately. Floch blinked, everyone's eyes now on him. "You're terrible at this!" he hastly deflected. The trainees burst into laughter as Eren ground his teeth begrudgingly.
It seemed like he was incorrect, odd given his record. If this truly had been real life and not an illusion orchestrated by Eren's founding titan abilities, then Floch was at a loss for words. Surely, this could have been the case, but, he hasn't been given any indication to doubt such theory, not that he wished it. This meant one thing for certain, this opportunity will not be allowed to go to waste.
"Nice one, Floch! serves him right for that shitty tough guy act he put on yesterday!" Jean patted him on the back from behind, wheezing. Floch winced at the physical contact as his most recent memory of the boy was using his last breath to beg him not to bring ruin upon their people.
"Hmm." Floch hummed in response, still uncomfortable being around so many people who in his previous life had set out to make it as difficult as possible. From the boy who betrayed him, the girl who killed him, and the three that started all of this standing around him like it was nothing.
'But then again... half of that hasn't happened here yet.' Floch noted. Maybe this time around, he would get an iron grip on Kirstein and prevent him from defecting to the enemy side, or maybe not. People are fickle beings, so who could really know such things?
The auburn-haired boy carried on as usual with a restless mind. By the time it was his turn for the exercise, he successfully managed it like second nature, impressing his peers. Once he finished the exercise, He took notice of the several eyes on him, including the instructor Shadis, inwardly cursing at himself for bringing so much unwanted attention. His only mistake was showcasing years of ODM gear experience on his second day as a trainee.
"Woah! Floch, that was amazing!" A girl called out. Amber-colored eyes widened in shock as he looked for the source.
"Sandra..." He breathed in a low tone, his mind flashing with images of Sandra and Gordon's bodies laying among the dead after Erwin's suicide charge.
"Yeah, wherein the hell did you learn that!?" Another ghost asked him. He turned to face Gordon, barely holding himself together as he stared at his childhood friends.
"G-guess i'm a natural." He shakily replied, eyes averting their gaze. Tears pricked his canthus as he fought to restrain himself from crying, He vowed to never cry again, but the sight was too much to bear.
"You okay?" Sandra asked as she closed the gap between them. He stiffed at her touch and backed away, much to her and Gordon's confusion.
"Yeah, Don't worry. It's just..." He trailed, "Forget it, It's nothing." He dismissed the brown-haired girl as he met her gaze. He sucked in a breath as he suddenly recalled.
'Floch.' she whimpered, her voice trembling in fear.
'Y-yeah?' He replied, equally frightened.
'I'm scared to die.' she confessed, tears spilling out of her eye.
Floch frowned but before he could say anything their commander Erwin released a battle cry and all hell broke loose.
"Okay, whatever." She replied lamely before all three fell in line with the rest of the recruits. Floch looked on unaware that she kept shooting him curious glances from time to time.
'This is too much. why is this happening to me?' He thought to himself as a frown marred his features, hands clenching from the intensity of the emotions coursing through him.
Later in the evening, Floch found himself lying in bed at the barracks deep in thought. The suddenness of this entire situation overwhelmed his mind still.
'This is supposedly seven years ago. I find it hard to imagine that Eren would put me in some founding titan fantasy, that's not like him.' Floch mused in his head. Glancing off to the side through the window, Eren, Armin and Mikasa walked by through sheer coincidence.
From the looks of things, the trio will be attempting to aid Eren in completing the ODM excercise, or else the green-eyed boy would be dropped from the program and thrust back into the unforgiving fields.
'No, Now I remember. The equipment was faulty.' Floch recalled. He reminisced about the day the boy proved himself in front of everyone once handed a functioning belt.
'July, 847, three years before the battle of Trost, two months till the assault on Shiganshina after that and finally seven years until freedom.' He noted. He couldn't resist the shit-eating grin that spread across his face but it disappeared as quickly as it came.
'And it only felt like a few hours ago that I was dragged to that port and died.'
'Odiha, in some rusty old warehouse.' He shuddered as he remembered the sharp pain of the ODM hook latching onto his neck, though by that point, his body had become numb after speding an excrutiatingly long twenty hours attached to that steam ship. All while suffering a gaping wound in the shoulder, submerged in the salty waters.
'Why would I be sent back?' Floch found himself thinking.
The memories flooded his mind from every battle he fought in. Their images burned into his brain, decimated by rocks, crushed, mangled, eaten, shot, sliced ,and exploded. Trost, Shiganshina, the day of the rumbling, the southern port, all of it came rushing to his thoughts. Among all the fallen, Sandra and Gordon's mangled bodies stood out the most to him.
He ran a cold finger along his neck where the wound used to be, his desperate pleas with Hange and jean echoing in his mind, the troubled looks they gave him as they willfully ignored the desperate pleas of a dying man. His words undoubtedly fell on deaf ears he reckoned, Hange was too drunk on morality to entertain logic and reason. His eyes widened with terror as a chill ran down his spine, had Eren failed? Was this the reason for him to be here? Was their paradise doomed?
He paled with horror at the implications, he remembered the fallen. The burden laid on his shoulders now, He owed Eldia and it's people his life, his knowledge, and every ounce of devotion his heart could muster. To die at any given moment in the foreseable future without ensuring a stable outcome for Eldia would be a waste. And that began with handling the various loose ends that derailed their victory in his previous life.
He hardened his resolve. "I'll kill them all."
"Who?" Gordon asked from the bed underneath him, startling the former yeagerist leader.
"Ah! uh?! You know the uh... the titans!" Floch tried to look for any excuse, The puzzled way Gordon looked at him made him anxious.
"Yeah right, you!? Ahahaha!" He laughed out loud
"W-What the hell are you laughing at bastard?!" Floch shouted, why was he suddenly like this? He felt like a child caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
"Did you forget? We promised we'd be garrison boys for life! Did something happen back there?" Gordon questioned, much to Floch's irritation. The boy furrowed his brows in thought before he sighed in resignation as his features relaxed, no harm in telling half-truths.
"Nothing happened, everything feels too sudden that's all." He denied it.
'Garrison boys for life, forgot about that..' Floch mused. Gordon smirked as he climbed up the bunk bed.
"I don't know, man! You looked pretty distraught after that blonde girl turned you down, you sure?" He teased. Floch gaped at him like a fish out of water.
"W-What?" He stuttered, scandalizied by the thought of being attracted to that unremorseful murderer in any capacity.
"Ha! That looks on your face says everything! Wait till Sandra hears, you won't see the end of it!" He laughed as he tugged on Floch's pants.
"Stop it, idiot!" Floch glared as he yanked his leg away from his teasing childhood friend.
"She'll be so heartbroken!" He feigned anguish, dramatically covering his eyes with his arm and looking away from the gaping Floch.
"H-Hey, you bastard! don't go around saying weird shit like that!" Floch spluttered, remembering full well how he'd manage to associate him with numerous frustrating nicknames during their training in the 104th.
"Sheesh, lighten up Flochy! It's not the end of the world or anything." Gordon smiled before hopping off the bed.
Floch stood up from his position and stared at his retreating form with a somber gaze.
"Come on! It's getting close to dinner! wouldn't wanna miss the good seats!" He called out to the boy as he exited the barracks, with a few others following behind after his reminder.
"You're wrong." Floch whispered as he dropped to the ground with clenched fists, "You wouldn't even begin to comprehend how wrong you are." He turned to look at the previously mentioned trio from the window.
"I have to be the one to do this! I've got to settle this!" -Eren Yeager 850 AD , urging Mikasa to untie him as Hannes fought Dina Fritz's pure titan form.
'The enemy is back amongst our ranks. Sandra, Gordon, Marlowe and Louise are alive. Eldia has regressed Four and a half years, And I have to keep a tight lip. Otherwise...'He peered out of the corner of his eyes towards one of the guard towers where the warrior trio sat, undoubtedly discussing their own mission detail. Floch couldn't resist the hate the coursed through him, he forced himself to look away before his sour expressions could bring unwanted attention.
He walked at a brisk pace towards Eren. It would do him good to make good friends with the boy again as this would be the second time both of them had sparked a friendship out of necessity. However, Floch would hold more knowledge than Eren until the boy could be in contact with Historia. He saw Eren nod towards Arlert but before he could be raised and possibly injure himself, the amber-eyed boy intervened.
"Stop!" He barked. The trio paused their exercise and turned to face him.
"What the hell do you want Forster?!" Eren demanded in agitation, Mikasa shielding the boy with a cold and apprehensive glare. Floch sneered at the Oriental girl without a single ounce of fear. He stood his ground against her in the past under far worse circumstances, this was child play in comparison.
"Armin, right? Don't raise that idiot or else he'll hurt himself." Floch advised the blonde-haired boy who in question raised an eyebrow at him.
"Go away, don't tell us what to do! I don't have the time to deal with you right now." Eren growled at him.
Armin looked sheepish but Floch knew the gears were turning in his head, expectedly, he turned to Yeager, "Let's talk things out first, Eren. He might be able to help us!" He enthusiastically reasoned with the stubborn boy who gritted his teeth in frustration before ultimately relenting. "Fine, but if he does something dumb, then I'll beat his ass up!" he warned Floch fixing him a glare.
"Great," Floch spoke, before tossing the belt towards the trio. Mikasa intercepted it mid-air and glared at the auburn-haired boy assuming the worst of him.
"A belt?" Armin questioned before a spark lit up in his mind.
"That's right! We didn't stop to consider if it wasn't your fault! Eren!" He beamed as he turned to his friend, who looked perplexed.
"What the hell's the meaning of this?!" Eren puzzled, "You had everyone laugh at me earlier, so why do this now?" He added.
Floch was in the middle of leaving before he stopped and turned to face them, smirking. "To keep you humble, of course. Besides, if that fat ass Lucas could do it, something must have been seriously wrong for you to not be able to." He concluded, stunning the three into silence as they watched him leave. Floch heard their cheers from far away as the future yeagerist leader successfully performed the ODM training exercise and inwardly felt proud.
'In time, Eren. We will do things right again.'
Floch Forster made his way into the dining area, having set up the foundation of what would be the most crucial alliance in all of Eldia's history. The devil and his righthand man shall reunite soon, and when that happens, Eldia shall once again know true freedom.
'Dedicate your heart.'
The mess hall reeked of that pleasant smell of fresh stew and bread, lively with chatter — it stimulated his senses. Bringing about a sense of nostalgia and melancholy for when he used to be deep in that blissful ignorance of the world around him, caught up in his mundane way of life.
He sat by the edge of the room far from it. He didn't deserve any of it, not until the day he brought Eldia salvation. He needed to feel the enemy squirm and tremble like he and many others had felt when faced against their transformed compatriots. Until that day came along, Floch would continue to move forward with the blood of the fallen staining his soul. Til justice is brought forth for their pain and sacrifice. After all, he was the chosen one for this task.
Right?
He couldn't resist the eerie sensation that crawled up his spine. His body had gone stiff and hollow. His heart thundered as a sinking feeling festered in his chest. His skin warmed, and the floodgates opened as sweat dripped from every pore. No matter how many times he affirmed to himself, none of it would go away. He felt weak, knowing that he had to go through everything again. The prospect of saving Eldia was one to look forward to, but the scorching hell he must endure attaining that goal was not something he was sure he could pull off once more.
His breath hitched, fearful eyes widening in panic. There in front of him, it stood, tall and menacing. In its hands a cluster of rubble which it hurled in his direction, and from behind that curtain of debris, he could still see blood red rubies. Mocking him for thinking he stood a chance. He shut his eyes and braced himself for that shower of death, but nothing but a gentle breeze touched his pale skin. A deep sigh of resignation passed his lips, and a frown settled upon his miens.
He wearily continued to scan the room for those familiar faces, young and bright, laughably naive. It felt surreal, as if dining in a graveyard, breaking bread, and sharing stories with the ghosts of the past. More than two hundred of them graduated in his original time. He knew that throughout the years, only eleven from the one hundred and fourth southern division survived to witness the day their sacrifices came to fruition in the form of the rumbling. Hundreds of lives were snuffed out at an absurd age, plucked from this world and swept away like blades of grass caught in the harsh winds.
Floch tore himself away from his surroundings and focused on his bowl of vegetable stew, this was much easier to look at. he took hold of his spoon and stirred the contents of the bowl then segregated the vegetables in different corners. The carrots, potatoes, onions, all held different qualities and textures but under the weight of his spoon they were all rendered into mush all the same.
His reflection bounced off the pair of grey hooded eyes that scrutinized him from across the table, burning his image in the back of the mind, studying him down to the last detail.
Sandra scowled at the boy, puzzled by the drastic shift in character that seemingly occurred out of the blue. What used to be an open book with words written down in bold, simple, and to the point. It has now shut in her face. Floch Forster doesn't get lost in thought. The most pressing of his concerns was the scalding sun on a hot summer day or the chiming bells of Trost ripping him from his cozy dreams early in the morning. Whatever weighed on his mind now, She had to know.
Sandra huffed. A full day of overthinking and worrying had finally caught up with her. Her foot hammered against the wooden boards with impatient tapping. Something festered inside her, urged her to latch onto his ear and force him to spill. She continued to bore holes into his head. Floch may be a book sealed under lock and key, but she knew the cover well. The crinkle of his eyes, the way his lower lip would quiver, the constant drumming of his fingers on the table, and the frequent sighing were clear signs.
She hated that Gordon wasn't nearly as concerned with his strange behavior as she had been. Their Floch was carefree and unbothered, not whoever this impostor was. Maybe Gordon was more used to seeing this side of him than she was. After all, childhood friends or not, the boys always had their own time together.
"I don't like this, he's never zoned out like this before." She began, unable to hold back any longer.
Gordon spared her a glance from the corner of his eyes and shifted towards the Auburn-haired mystery impassively.
"Guess something happened. And before you start, I don't know."
"You don't know?!" She hissed.
"Tried twice, tickling and pinching too. But he's not here at all. Wouldn't budge a bit."
She watched him break a small piece of bread, not comprehending exactly what he was playing at until the moment he placed it atop the ginger's head. She blinked twice, not trusting her own vision before realising what he has been doing this entire time, there on the bird's nest Floch called hair sat a handful of bread crumbs.
"W-what are you doing?" she asked feeling scandalized.
"Putting bread on his hair."
"Why have you gone and done that?!"
"Ehh, felt funny." He shrugged while nonchalantly admiring his handiwork.
"Y-you idiot! If Shadis sees, He'll make us clean the floor with our tongues!" She fretted. Her eyes nearly bulged out in fear. She looked from her left and right in search of their intimidating instructor. His features darkened as a crippling anxiety took hold, he hastly swiped the crumbs off the boy's greasy head before proceeding to swallow them much to her disgust but it was better now than under Shadis' menacing gaze.
To her amazement the aubrun-haired cadet continued in his own musings as if nothing happened, too immersed in his own world to notice the one surrounding him. She couldn't resist the pull at the corners of her mouth as a soft smile set in place, she admired that about Floch. No matter how many distractions would present themselves, the boy would only focus on a single task at hand.
The bells outside chimed, Signaling bedtime for the cadets. They all stood and picked after themselves as they vacated the mess hall. They left one after the other, including Gordon who hurried out of fear of Shadis. Floch absent-mindedly took his spoon and bowl with him, Sandra followed behind him quietly, biting her lips and inwardly screaming at herself for not confronting him.
"Sandra." He suddenly spoke, startling the girl as she bumped into his back.
He turned to face her, her breath hitched in awe. His eyes looked heavy and burdened, these weren't the eyes of a young and carefree boy. She could see the pain in them as clear as she could see the moon shining in the night's sky. He was hurting, why was he hurting?
"Floch... Is everything okay?" She asked with a hint of concern in her breath.
"Yes."
"Gordon and I were worried all day, You looked troubled, you know we can talk about it right?" She spoke. Inching closer towards him and taking his stiff hand in hers.
"Do you remember long ago, when Gordon and I used to pick fights with the boys from the junkyard? How you'd stand there and cry, asking us to stop fighting?" He asked her, his voice low and broken.
'Long ago?' She was puzzled but shook her head regardless.
"Y-yeah, you'd both come to wipe my tears afterward. even if you were bruised and hurting," she replied, still perplexed by his random question.
"We did, and then you'd nag us about starting fights." He chuckled weakly, in his eyes a faraway look.
"Was I wrong?" She pouted.
"Not at all, Sandra." He looked down at his feet.
"Floch, what's going on?" She squeezed his hand.
"Why did you join the military?"
The brown-haired girl was rooted to the ground, his intense gaze melting her to the bone as she felt the heat of the Trost factories once more, That thick industrial smoke filling her lungs and clouding her mind as a million thoughts rushed through, but she drew blanks nonetheless. Feeling like that helpless girl that used to stand on the side and bawl her eyes out while her friends fought.
"What do you hope to gain out of joining this hellhole?" He continued to hammer her with his impossible questions with desperation dripping from the tongue.
"O-our promise, the garri-" She finally spoke. Tripping over every word as her face flushed from embarrassment. His features hardened, he sneered at her and she felt like crying but controlled herself.
"The garrison, right. Sandra, I think you should leave. You don't belong here." He spoke Harshly in a tone of finality, she was taken back as she let go of his hand.
'Leave?'
'You don't belong here.'
'LEAVE!'
Floch's mother always used to nag him about the proper ways of dealing with the opposite sex, his father's warnings of never making a girl cry ringing loudly in his mind. But the echoes of thunderspears and the cries of the scouts ringed heaps louder. He never wished to see tears ruining Sandra's face ever again but if it meant protecting her from the horrors that lay beyond these walls and within them then so be it.
"Goodnight." She weakly muttered, tears prickling the edge of her eyes.
Sandra looked defeated, her knees wobbled as she barely held herself together. The damn that held her togehter broke, as tears streamed down her cheeks. She frowned, never expecting today to turn out like this. In her haste, she dropped her bowl and spoon and fled. Floch watched her retreating form without a single word, the more she shrank the more the pain that stabbed at him intensified, and when she disappeared into the barracks he felt the weight of his words crushing his shoulders.
He picked up her discarded items before leaving under the cover of the dark, Mikasa Ackerman watched him pensively. Though they were nothing alike, they both shared a common struggle. She wrapped her scarf around her neck before departing as well, in her mind flashed images of a reckless green eyed boy with ambitious dreams.
"I don't want to lose what little family I have left." - Mikasa Ackerman 850 AD, speaking to Eren yeager and Armin arlert after their celebrating their graduation.
As a young boy, he remembered chasing after the huge boats floating along the Trost district river, the clicking of his shoes resounding from the concrete pavement. He used to always play near it. Often he would attempt to swim inside it, which would lead to his parents biting his head off for setting foot in those murky contaminated waters. Especially when he barely knew how to swim, but he didn't know any better. The water, while pleasant on the surface, was deceptively ordinary. It would turn and darken at the tiniest disturbance, revealing its true nature.
Dark, muddy, and foul. Had he paid close attention to the edges of the cobblestone, He would have seen the corrupted moss sticking onto the surface, halfway submerged in that body of diseased water. In the summer, under the intense heat of the sun, it exuded a putrid smell that would reek of rotten eggs and dampned coal for days on end, forcing him, Gordon, and Sandra to flee far away to play somewhere else. During the evenings, the mosquitoes would come at large demanding fresh blood, Even with the efforts of his father and the oil lamps set to repel them, one would find its way underneath his thin covers to bite him. Nothing could keep those tiny devils away from him at night.
The Trost river and the mosquitoes were at the back of his mind as he fought, desperately attempting to repel their attackers. His subordinates, comrades, brothers and sisters were caught in their vicious stings one after the other. Their enemies were evasive and tough to kill, his spontaneous plans would fail horrendously everytime he tried to counter their assault. As if some form of divine intervention kept these devilish bastards away from harm, never extending the same courtesy to his countrymen.
He stood atop of the roof watching everything unfold, blood sprayed, bullets flew around the battlefield and gore was scattered around the port, mangled flesh and broken bones visible for all to see. His hatred and rage grew ten folds, watching the ones he once considered friends and allies, slaughtering their own in cold blood, all for the benefit of a people that wished them a cruel death.
A fierce feeling bubbled inside of him, A guttural cry for war released from the back oh his throat as he lunged forward, armed with thunderspears and courage. He maneuvered around the various obstacles that stood between him and Eldia's future. He dodged the dancing blades, the piercing bullets, the prowling titans that pounced him to crush and devour. And he flew towards the waters, descending upon the ship like an angel of death.
As he soared through the air, he relished the feeling of the wind rushing against his skin and through his hair. reminding him of the days where he'd swing across the dense Eldian forests alongside his childhood friends, it brought peace to his mind. He aimed at the ship and pulled the trigger, the heat from the thunderspear building up next to him, in that moment he felt power coursing through his veins and a deep sense of security in his actions.
"ELDIA WILL BE SAVED!"
The thunderspear sizzled.
"...BY ME!"
He was struck.
No matter how hard he tried, those tiny devils always slipped through the cracks. As he fell from the heavens, He could do nothing but watch in despair as his world crumbled around him. Crimson gushing from the shoulder and the sky becoming farther and farther. He plunged into the sea and only then it had been revealed to him that the azure waters of the harbor had thickened with Eldian blood. In his desperate attempts to breathe he swallowed much of that tainted water.
He sunk deeper and deeper into that hell, until eventually the light stopped shining through the surface. Large and ominous red eyes bore into his soul as a maddening cackle boomed in the darkness, A giant hand reached out for him-
Floch woke up in a cold sweat, the scream that threatened to escape muted in his throat. He heard nothing but his frantic gasps for air and the drumming of a heart that threatened to burst. He searched for the giant furry hand in wild motions, finding nothing but the peaceful unconscious forms of the cadets. The aftertaste of metallic red lignered on his tongue but there was nothing there.
The boy jumped off the bed without alarming a soul, blending into the shadows and exiting the barracks before being swallowed by darkness. A pair of eyes tracked his movements until he faded out of sight but never attempted to follow.
Hello, thank you for taking the time to read this, here's some words jumbled together below this, enjoy.
This story will be told mostly through Floch's point of view as we go through the ripples of what his actions could lead to in the future, with that said this is the first fanfic story I made for attack on titan and i'm excited for it, valid and constructive criticism is always appreciated.
Edited (10/04/2022) Story title changed, previous title was 'For king and country.'
Edited again (Time's not real) changed some stuff I didn't like.