PART I: THE TROST CRISIS
Year 849 [1]
Annie Leonhardt snuggled deeper into her warm bunk, covered in only thin sheets. It was late May, the last wondrous moment before the inevitable onset of summer. She dreaded that hot season, punishing her for her naturally hot temperature. She would soon wish they were closer to Wall Rose, some twenty kilometers to the south, which blocked the horrid weather that survived the forsaken lands of Wall Maria and eventually settled over the lands where the camp was.
Forsaken. What a way to describe my life, she thought, opening her eyes. Dawn broke somewhere upon the horizon. While most might not have noticed yet, she already knew. For years growing up, her father made a habit of waking her right at dawn, without fail, so he could once more drill the martial art of his motherland into her.
"Annie…too early…" murmured her bunkmate, throwing an arm over her shoulders.
Blue eyes peered over at the mound of black hair trying to return to sleep. Annie had been assigned Mina Caroline as her bunkmate almost two years ago, when the 104th Southern Training Division of the Cadet Corps had been initiated into the Paradisian military. Naturally, it was merely called the military by the Paradisians, but that was due to the Power of the Coordinate.
It was bizarre, entering a world filled with only Eldians. Not a soul was aware of the world beyond their shores. Everyone was trapped within a delusion that they were what remained of humanity, hiding for a plague of beasts that had destroyed everyone else. They weren't even aware of the Nine Titans of Ymir, and that the Colossal Titan was human. There were no Marleyan oppressors, or island devils being cursed.
There was only the struggle of humanity versus the titans—and the underworld scum that tried not to derail that struggle too much.
Annie threw off Mina's arm as she rose from the bunk. There was a shifting noise as the girl left behind drew the sheets closer to her body, trapping the warmth left behind by the blonde's presence. She smiled slightly, shaking her head, and prepared to head for the showers.
If there was one aspect of life on Paradis she absolutely despised, it was the poor hygienic practices. Jean Kirschstein, one of the more upper class members of their cadet group, had been accustomed to only bathing once every other day during his childhood. Sasha Braus—still called Potato Girl despite the distance from the incident on Induction Day—had bathed maybe once a week or so, growing up in the desolate forests within Wall Rose. A revolting practice, especially since Annie had grown up bathing daily, either in the morning right after her training with her father or at night before bed, following the Warrior training she had been engaged in on behalf of the Marleyan government. Here at Training, she found it simplest to go early, when not a soul would trouble her.
Curfew ended with dawn, conveniently enough.
On the way out of the barracks, she stopped to grab her bath bag—soaps, oils, a brush, and towel. The laundry and bathhouse were fortunately connected and from there she could dress for the day. Their cleaned clothes were stored there until used or taken.
Annie slipped out of Girl's Barrack Two, resisting the temptation to bask in the morning sun. Several lengthy beams were tossed across the green, an ironically named stretch of barren ground, baked into rough, packed dirt, between the barracks, the mess, the infirmary, and the bathhouse.
She lazily strolled across the green, nearly indulging herself in the meandering pace. Unlike the apathetic front she used to avoid emotional connections, the blank expression on her face during this moment reflected a peace the cruel world they inhabited sought to ruin. There were times when she closed her eyes that Annie could envision the untouched wilds beyond the walls, or smell the fresh salt of the open sea. She could remember the sounds and clutter of the Liberio ghetto and smelling the quick decay of Shiganshina in the wake of the Breach.
Annie gulped down the sudden rise of bile. A hint of taste reached her mouth, a sour reminder of why she worked to keep as many of the other cadets at arms length. Only one person had made progress towards breaking through her own walls. It wasn't Bertholdt Hoover and Reiner Braun, whom she had known for almost half her life, for she kept them at bay more than anyone else. It was the closest thing they had to operational security, but then the two boys had copied her hometown while applying for the military. Should she be exposed, they would be as well.
The bathhouse was empty, just as she expected, when she entered the building some twenty minutes after crawling out of her bed. Whenever other trainees troubled to use it, it was almost always in the evening after supper. The boys especially got rowdy, though it was rare for them to descend into the shouting matches which were way too commonplace during meals, especially supper. The few girls who spoke with Annie the most often—Mina, Hannah, and Erika—always sought to get her to join them as those times.
She wouldn't. She couldn't, especially knowing she might very well play a role in their deaths. Annie was honest enough with herself to know she would feel remorse, should anyone she dared to care for perish in the wake of the crimes she was bound to remain complicit in.
If she didn't care, she wouldn't worry about going out of her way to not connect with others. She'd laugh and smile along with them, yet prepare to ensure their deaths in the future.
Annie immediately veered towards her right after entering the bathhouse. She made her way to the third door; furthest away from the entry she had come through. She pushed the door open and entered the girl's wing, where there were several tubs, ready for heated water, along with the narrow shower stalls she preferred along the back wall.
If only we could have Marleyan plumbing at camp, she thought with longing, missing the ability to turn a knob and have steaming water pour forth. Paradis, compared to the world beyond its shores and the waves of Titans between Wall Maria and the sand, was a devolved backwater absent of even the advancements present in the world before the Eldian king retreated behind his walls. The lack of proper showers when plumbing should be available to them reminded her of how the islanders had devolved, and having to wash while sitting on a stool made her wish to scrape off all of her skin instead of washing with soap.
Annie set her bag just outside of the corner shower stall before grabbing one of several sizeable pots from a nearby rack along the far wall. There was a large metal pump towards the center of the three chambers within the bathhouse. Allegedly they drew from the nearby lake, but nothing other than the Walls suggested any advanced engineering from what she had seen. She personally suspected there was a well dug into a large water basin where the bathhouse now stood, converted when the Southern Training Facility was hastily constructed following the Breach. None of the buildings had the appearance of being more than a couple years old.
She dry pumped twice, drawing moisture and water up from the ground before setting her pot beneath the tap. With three strong pumps, it was adequately filled for Annie's morning needs. While a second pot would be nice, the staff sergeants were picky about water rationing and had a way of knowing how much was used for bathing.
Annie Leonhardt was on precarious ground with them.
She carried her filled pot back to the stall she had chosen, still cool. While Annie was more than aware she could warm the water within using the stoked fire pits in the far rear, hidden behind even the stalls, there was no need for her to physically warm the water she would use. She burned very warm, almost too warm by the standards of the military physicians, and was more than capable of bearing with pouring all but the iciest of water over her body.
She set it down before undressing, tossing her white uniform pants and thin sleeping shirt into the nearest hamper before returning to the stall. She sat on the small stool provided, leaning back slightly to ensure she was as alone as she assumed. Once certain she leaned forward.
Using her sharpest nail, Annie sliced a small incision into her left cheek. It was dangerous, openly using any of the abilities granted to her as one of those cursed with the Power of Ymir, yet the heat generated by restricting her regeneration made colder temperatures pleasant against her bare skin.
Annie ignored the small sizzle of lightning that arced across her face, and suppressed the activation of her healing powers.
Her mind drifted away from her present, engaged in the rote actions of bathing. With simple meditation, she was able to draw up old memories and focus her mind to pursue certain thoughts he might otherwise avoid. Becoming accustomed to bathing via muscle memory had taken some time until she stopped bathing around the others. Annie still didn't appreciate the stares she received from the other girls early into training. Scars marred her back; silvery streaks that were a testament to the training the man who raised her put her through.
And now he is nothing but ash. His name is bound to be forgotten like all Eldians.
Ground burials were meant for Marleyans in Liberio. Eldians, like herself, had their dead burned. Allegedly it was to stop the deceased from being transformed into Titans by the King Behind the Walls, but Annie had overheard Marleyan soldiers speaking through sneers about how wasteful it would be, giving Eldians even the smallest stretch of land for burying their dead. They were among a growing faction that viewed her hometown of Liberio as little more than a containment zone, where the Subjects of Ymir lived to provide some use to the Marleyan government and military.
Should they no longer provide that use, well Annie still had the nightmares of their jeering, laughing stories from the hinterlands. Entire communities were wiped out for bearing even a single drop of Eldian blood.
She clenched her hand, crushing the bar of soap that she had been using. Her gut roiled, thinking of home. While she had kept her feelings secret from everyone around her, Annie had come to hate Marley ever since her departure. She was almost thankful her father was dead. His selfish desires had led her towards becoming a Warrior, to inherit the Female Titan, and join the now futile mission to Paradis Island.
A fool's errand, Annie reckoned. We've been here for over four years, stuck on Paradis, behind these Walls…
Has the price been worth the effort sacrificed? Marcel died before we even reached the Walls. Who knows where the power of the Jaws Titan is now. All of that death, the terror… For what? We don't know who possesses the Coordinate, nor the Attack Titan, lost since the Great Titan War…
She still remembered the secret Zeke Jaeger had told her. Were it possible, she might consider he and Eren Jaeger, one of her Paradisian peers, were brothers.
Annie sighed, rubbing at her aching sides with her soapy disaster. Despite having crushed her primary bar, the shards and chunks were clenched into a mess that could still work as a normal bar with the right amount of pressure. The quality of the soap was certainly compromised, which frustrated her. There wouldn't be a new shipment of cleaning supplies for another month.
The longer she remained on Paradis, the less Annie thought the effort to return to Liberio, to Marley, to be worth the effort. Unlike Reiner and Bertholdt, she had nothing to tie her back to 'home'. There was no family she loved, the looming threat of exile to paradise hanging over their heads.
Though what should I do instead? Join the Survey Corps? I'm not Jaeger, seeking vengeance and retribution, a short life of blood and tragedy. Nor am I loyal enough to this pitiful hermit kingdom to continue down the path of joining the Military Police.
After her most recent venture into the territories of Wall Sina, Annie didn't think the MP route was prudent. The only viable reason for her to join them was to further the mission she was first sent to Paradis to complete. A mission whose end she no longer saw as viable. Had she the means to defeat the other two Warriors, she might dare to consider defecting to the cause of the Paradisians. Were they all not the Subjects of Ymir, Eldians separated by land and memory? Only nine years—no it was closer to eight now—remained before the Curse of Ymir would claim her life. She could, were she daring enough, make something of her life within the time left to her that might be more than merely being a slave to Marley, a weapon for them to aim at their enemies.
The real enemy, Annie Leonhardt was beginning to realize, was not on Paradis.
The four hundred plus cadets of the 104th Southern Training Division made their way out onto the wide-open ground combat training field with lazy energy. Their thrice-weekly hand-to-hand combat session was to begin shortly, and today's was unstructured. For some, they approached the session with a forlorn sense of exhaustion, as though they couldn't bear to go through with what was expected of them. For others, it was with the grim determination of one who took the career of soldiering as seriously as their oaths.
Yet for one Eren Jaeger, this was one more opportunity to continue developing his skills. While at first close-quarters combat didn't appear to apply to his objective of killing titans, the physical control and precision developed by his impromptu lessons with Annie Leonhardt had gradually made him more capable in the air. He may never have the aerial grace of Mikasa or even Jean, to his continued chagrin, but his tenacious spirit would not allow him to falter or hesitate. He would fight, and move forward.
One day, he would see the ocean.
One day, there would be no titans.
One day, humanity would be free of their walls, as it had once been and would one day be.
They had been born into this world, and it was their due. Their birthright. They merely had to seek freedom, and seize it with all they had.
The cadets began to pair off. None dared to approach Eren, fully aware of precisely whom he worked with during these practices. Emerald eyes drifted about those gathered in search, ignoring the pained look his adoptive sister was giving while his best friend dragged her away. He grinned when his gaze fell upon her, already approaching him. Annie Leonhardt was short and lithe, a fighter's figure with strong limbs and stronger joints. She had tossed him about enough that he had a feeling there was a strong understanding between them. What it was, he didn't fully grasp.
But it was there, as certain as death.
"Hey Annie," he greeted, grinning despite the brief flicker of annoyance on her face. "What do you ha—"
In one moment, Eren was upon his feet, flat and stable against the hard ground. Within the span of a heartbeat, his position changed. He was flipped, sent painfully onto his shoulders and upper back. He could see all of his knee-length leather boots and a hint of the thick white linen pants tucked into them. Peering to his left, he spotted Annie. She smirked slightly as she stepped away, granting him space to climb back onto his feet. Her expression dulled to false apathy a split second after their gazes met.
"Today, Jaeger, focus on remaining upon your feet."
He grinned despite the ache in his shoulders. While Eren knew well enough that it was probably wiser to learn proper moves before engaging in sparring as a means to apply them, he was an odd case. His skill and ability as a fighter bloomed under Annie's brutal, unrelenting instruction where she threw all manner of moves at him and forced him to perfect his own techniques in open combat. Should he pick them up, she would punish his mistakes and allow his successes to work—once.
And when it came to sparring, his favorite was days like this one, when he'd be met with new techniques, punished for hesitation and shown no mercy.
Hopefully she doesn't try her frail girl card on me today, Eren thought as he rose to his feet. His raised his fists, holding them before his face, and shifted his left foot forward. It was a pale replica of Annie's personalized form; yet flexible enough to engage both as a more traditional brawler and to swiftly use the grapples and throws that characterized his peer-mentor's style.
Annie's own shift into her fighting stance had the natural grace of a prowling cat. He instinctively gulped, briefly intimidated as a rodent under the shadow. Even so, Eren knew he couldn't falter.
Eren inched forward, his left crawling while his right foot dragged, until he was just beyond Annie's dangerously large and unexpected range. He had learned the hard way how far she could extend her attacks and blows. A moment passed where he could've sworn she was smiling—and then, seemingly contrary to her past nature, she lashed out first. Three quick jabs fired his way as she lunged at him, the first two meant for his chest. He dodged the first, took the second with a hard grunt, and countered her high blow with his right arm, opening her body for his left arm to land a vicious uppercut.
Her response to him creating an opening in her defense was a low front kick. Eren had to jump back, nearly tripping over his own heels, as Annie vaguely frowned at her missed attack.
"Were you disappointed that you missed me?" taunted Eren, grinning.
Annie glowered, promising painful retribution in response to his words. While it would absolutely cower any other recruit—other than Mikasa, who appeared to only feel utter loathing for the blonde—he was no longer afraid of the look. He'd heal quickly, just as he had for years. Armin had plenty of theories why, but Eren knew that his healing only became as quick as it was after the Breach, yet before the Wall Maria Reclamation Mission.
He moved forward with precise steps, suppressing his hotheaded urge to charge. He had learned the hard way, repeatedly, that Annie knew how to handle a charge. She might even enjoy being able to toss him onto his back like a battered rag doll. She had yet to throw Eren the same way his adoptive sister, Mikasa Ackerman, had once thrown the reliable Reiner Braun, but few had the massive strength Mikasa possessed.
Sometimes even Eren swore her strength was inhuman. He heard some people call it unnatural, which he thought was a bit much.
She waited until he was well within her range—and close enough to strike—to make her move. Arms flew up, one under his right arm and the other wrapping around his neck from his left, encircling half his upper body. Annie threw the side of her hip into his, and Eren internally groaned as she tossed him aside and onto the hard, sun-baked earth.
"How daring," Annie whispered into his ear, keeping him pinned to the ground. She shifted her press of hard muscle and soft flesh as though she knew exactly what it did to him. "You almost cared about how fragile I am, Eren.
"Oh ha ha," he responded mockingly. "A frail girl would be the one pinned, Annie, not me—"
She head-butted him, striking right atop his nose instead of aiming for the safer target that was his forehead. Were it not for the soft crunch and the sudden flow of blood onto his upper lip, Eren wouldn't have immediately realized she had broken his nose.
Annie pulled back, brows furrowed slightly. "I didn't hit you that—" Her blue eyes suddenly widened as she whispered, "Walls." There was a faint stain of blood on her forehead, trailed slightly towards the left. Something flashed in those wide blue eyes before she dragged Eren onto his feet and yanked on his arm, heading away from the field.
"Infirmary," she told him through gritted teeth. Both of his attempted protests failed to get another answer from her, and she shouted it the few times someone dared to approach or even stare at them. Most of the other cadets had taken to ignoring them during hand-to-hand training, either because they took the session as seriously as they did, or because they were focused on pretending they were being serious.
Magically, Mikasa had her back turned through all of this, or so Eren assumed.
Minutes later, Annie forced a protesting Eren into the infirmary building. The nurse was absent as she forced him towards one of the small check-up rooms. She allowed him to collapse backward into a tall chair, nearly hitting the back of his head against the thick wood. She shifted his face from side to side, blue eyes focused on his nose. One of her hands covered the spot while the other held his chin.
"What—what is it? Is there something wrong?" Eren asked, growing increasingly frustrated with how she treated him.
"You don't need to worry, Jaeger," Annie replied harshly. She grasped his broken nose, prodding it until he flinched. She nodded to herself, and then—
Before Eren could protest, Annie twisted. He heard another cracking sound—his nose again—and then an odd hissing sound. Green eyes sought out blue. Before he could meet her gaze, a small, calloused hand slapped itself over his eyes.
"Annie," he began, whining a bit too much like a child. "Why are you covering my eyes?"
She didn't respond. She didn't even bother to explain herself. All she did was wait until the hissing sound stopped before removing her hand from his face. A wondrous, yet panicked look graced Annie Leonhardt's face. Eren was astonished she could even make such an expression, and then deeply troubled that he was the responsible party. It made him feel oddly uncomfortable, as if he was suddenly everything she wanted in life.
"Annie…?" he whispered.
She blinked, wiping away the mysterious expression.
"Annie?" asked Eren, louder.
She glanced away, peering through the window outdoors and through the doorway into the room they were in. Her expression finally returned to the natural apathetic look he was accustomed to.
"Annie?"
Her gaze returned to him.
Before Eren could repeat her name a fourth time, Annie placed two fingers over his lips. It was enough to silence him, though it did nothing to his confusion or anger. He glared, a blatant, non-verbal display of frustration. For one so loud, he could be remarkably quiet and understanding.
"You've seen enough cruelty, Eren," she finally said, knowing she couldn't tell him the truth. "You don't need to worry about…this."
Annie couldn't tell him the truth. The truth would destroy him. Eren Jaeger was liable to go berserk should he learn he was a Titan Shifter, cursed with the power to transform into a Titan and control it with his own will. To learn he was akin to her was cosmic retribution of the cruelest kind. The person who could be her ticket back to Liberio, who could end the present assault upon the Walls of Paradis, was the very man who sought the freedom long stolen from her. He knew who his enemy was, regardless of the fact his answer wasn't correct.
She didn't know if she wanted to return to Liberio, though her mind traitorously supplied another way to fight that assault upon the Walls. Annie pinched her lips together to stop her thoughts from becoming words.
He didn't appear convinced by her answer. She could tell from the minute furrow between his brows, as though he was directing his great amount of furious energy towards thinking instead of reacting
"Are you keeping a secret from me?" Eren asked, pained.
"I am. For your own safety."
Eren glared, projecting emerald flames with his gaze. His voice cracked as he growled, "My own safety? Who are you to decide that for me?"
She expected the fury she heard in his voice, but not the pain that underlined it. He might wear his emotions on his sleeves, but he wasn't an idiot. Eren knew what he wanted, and was aware of the deeds necessary to pursue his goal. Annie had heard him and Armin speak of the ocean, of the great sights beyond the Walls and distant from the island of Paradis. As much as she wanted them to reach those places, she knew it would never come to pass.
And worse was the heartbreaking thought that passed through her mind: When did you begin to trust a traitor like me?
"Because I don't want you to destroy yourself, Eren," she whispered. "I… I do not think you can handle it."
The day he learns of Marley is the day the world dies. Your fury terrifies me, Eren, yet I can't find the will to strike you down. The thought alone of you shifting, rampaging, has filled me with horror.
Eren was too straightforward to be properly devoured by a pure titan and pass on his power. Instead, he would lose an arm or a leg or both and, in his raging madness, shift inside of whichever unfortunate Titan he tumbled into. He would expose the truth of shifters to the Paradisians by pure accident.
She shivered, thinking of the carnage he would create with the power of whichever Titan he possessed. There were only two possibilities, yet she couldn't name which would be more terrifying. So little was known of the Attack Titan to guess at what unique powers it might grant him.
"How bad could it be?" Eren demanded. There was a lingering hint of a humorous tone, but his anger was still too much to be suppressed.
Annie stared at him for a long moment, considering all she knew. When she finally replied, it took a great deal of effort to keep her tone steady and to not sound as terrified as she felt.
"It may very well kill you."