AN: Hey, everyone. Once again, I apologize for the delay. It had taken me this long to put this chapter out because A) I recently got a new, full-time job, and B) I really didn't want to screw this chapter up. I appreciate everyone's honesty regarding my story's direction, and the support I've received ever since I made the last Author's Note. I will not let you all down. Special thanks to GodzillaFollower1998, Steel, RedDragon, and AhsokaJackson for helping me move forward. I hope you all enjoy it.
A couple of quick updates for you:
I have enough room in my story summary to give a progress report. I'll try to keep that updated so that you all can be in the know as to where I am with the upcoming chapters.
Thank you to all who didn't leave guest reviews in my inbox since the last update. Those who did have been deleted, regardless of their content.
Starting next chapter, I'm going to start posting responses to the reviews you all make from here on out. I'll group the profiles together if they end up saying basically the same thing.
I do want to make something very clear: a couple of reviews have stated, "I don't give a damn" and "I don't care" about their comments. Yeah, that couldn't be further from the truth. Save for the death threats and the controversy surrounding how I've depicted Levi and Hanji, I take a lot of what you all say seriously. Believe me or not. It's up to you.
Chapter 77: A Time to Rise
The first thing that Dillon registered upon regaining consciousness was how sore his body felt. It was like he ran ten laps around Wall Sina while carrying Shadis. These sensations caused him great confusion. He was supposed to be dead… unless this was common in the afterlife.
Upon opening his eyes, he immediately recognized the situation he was in. Chained to a chair made of metal? Seemingly locked in a barely-lit room with only two doors? An empty chair sitting across from him? Yup, he was definitely a prisoner. However, what really caught his attention was a glass object embedded in the ceiling. It wasn't a torch, but it was definitely producing light of some kind. Adding further to the strange set of circumstances, he realized that his leg felt like it had never been broken. How long had he been unconscious?
"What the hell is going on?" he muttered to himself.
Suddenly, the door swung open to reveal a gentleman wearing a suit that screamed upper class. His blue eyes remained fixated on him as he silently took a seat in the chair. The blacksmith always hated the analytical stares. It was like someone was examining his soul for imperfections. Once he was comfortable, the man spoke. "It's good to meet you at last, Dillon Amsdale. I am Atticus Tybur. I was a friend of your father's."
Ever since the revelation of other Psions, Dillon had wondered if he would ever meet the other survivors from the project. He supposed that he shouldn't have been surprised it would be in this situation. "I would say the same were it not for the fact I'm a prisoner of Marley," Dillon responded with a snort. "Unless this is some massive prank you're pulling."
"I'm afraid not." Atticus had the nerve to sound sorrowful. "It would have been nice to meet under more positive circumstances, but our situations in life have prevented that."
"I'm sure you're crying on the inside. How about we skip the monologue you have planned and get to the part where I'm executed for being an island devil or whatever bullshit you can come up with?"
Atticus narrowed his eyes at his attitude. "And here I thought you would want answers to the questions that are troubling you."
"You have no idea what I want, Atticus." While answers would be nice in light of everything, he was more focused on finding a way out of this mess. He couldn't focus if he was being hammered by more gut-punching revelations.
"You want to know that your constant suffering has actual meaning to it, that all of it wasn't a pointless exercise to prove the world is out for your blood." He pulled out a cigarette and a matchbook from his pocket. He put the cylindric stick of tobacco in his mouth and with a flick of the match, lit it. "Betrayed by your lover, your family, your superiors- well, that one you brought upon yourself… and now here you are at my mercy." He took a deep breath, and calmly let it out, the nicotine filling the air. "Unfortunate for you, but a blessing for me."
Dillon coughed from the horrid smell, his eyes watering. "Congratulations. You read my mind. I hope it hurts."
"It was very insightful, watching you flop around like a fish desperately searching for water to keep it alive," the man continued in his calm tone. "I'm here to offer you clarity before the end, Dillon. Your father was a good friend of mine before Carolyn took him away. To let you die without understanding would be unnecessarily cruel."
At this point, the blacksmith knew he had two choices: he could let the man gab on and on about the so-called truth while Dillon waited until the opportune moment to strike, or he could tell him to go to hell before he was executed or whatever judgment awaited him. While it would have been satisfying to do the latter, he wasn't completely a lost cause. "I don't have it in me to give a damn about why you changed your mind about the Eldians. I want to know how the Beast Titan is connected to all this. It's impossible that he could have resisted my mental attack so strongly, so I'm betting you had something to do with it."
"You guess correctly," Atticus confirmed. "In fact, I've been working with Zeke for about seven years now. I can think of no better person than him to lead the Warriors against the Devils of Paradis."
Dillon ignored being called a "devil" and focused on the things he knew concerning the Psions. "Annie never spoke one word to Zeke or the others about my capabilities, and yet he had known about me."
"And why do you think that is?" Atticus smiled like a father watching his child about to win a game. "Surely, a Psion as powerful as I would be able to study you from afar."
"Maybe, but I don't think that's the case. If you had known about me from the start, you would have warned the Shifters, and they would have killed me the first chance they got." Slowly, comprehension began to dawn on him as the pieces fell into place. "But you weren't the only Psion Zeke was in contact with, were you? Elise was involved. She came to the island to find and kill my mother. Someone had to help her navigate through the Titans, especially through Wall Maria's territory."
Another puff of smoke exited his lungs with a content sigh. "It's amazing how a moment of peace and quiet can bring upon such clarity." He jabbed the cigarette into the arm of the chair, putting it out. "It had taken some time for my powers to develop enough, but I did detect your father. Each Psion carries a psychic signature within them, even you."
"And you sent her there to liberate my father and kill my mother," Dillon inferred. Curiosity was starting to win over him.
"She wasn't strong enough to detect Matthew, so I only gave her the general whereabouts of Carolyn. Thanks to the mental link between the two, it was easy to find her. If I had told Elise about him from the start, she would have stayed here to plan her moves. That didn't work for my schedule. I needed her to wait on the other side of the ocean so she wouldn't interfere."
"And what about Jacob? Why didn't he come with her?"
"I needed his help for a project of mine that would help change the world for the better." He scooted his chair closer after tossing the cigarette butt to the side. "A project that you are now a-"
Dillon's eyes flashed and the glass-light-thingy about shattered, shoving the room into complete darkness. Atticus recoiled in shock as Dillon broke through one of his restraints quick enough to punch the man in the face. While he was sufficiently dazed, the teen removed the last of his chain just in time for them to wrap around his neck like a metal noose. Dillon gasped for breath, falling to his knees. He attempted to break them with his powers, but they would not budge.
"I'm far stronger than you, Dillon," Atticus stated, sounding more annoyed than angry. His glowing eyes were the only source of light in the dark. "Don't bother resisting the inevitable."
It wouldn't be long before his oxygen ran out, so he had to come up with something fast. Atticus was no fool. He would be on guard for anything to start moving like the metal chairs. A mind attack would be futile considering the power difference between them. Thankfully, the man provided a very effective solution earlier.
Another flash of his eyes later, Atticus's jacket exploded into flames. Thank God for matches! While he was busy removing the flaming, expensive jacket, Dillon shattered the chains completely, gasping for breath. He was dizzy from the lack of oxygen, but at least he could see now. His eyes widened in horror when both chairs rose into the air. There was nowhere to run, so Dillon decided to close the distance, catching Atticus off guard. He slammed him against the wall, and the two began to settle the matter like civilized people: good, old-fashioned fisticuffs.
While Dillon had speed on his side, Atticus had a surprising amount of strength and endurance for a man his age. After taking a couple of blows to the face, the older man delivered a right cross so vicious that it had Dillon seeing stars. A well-placed kick sent the teen backwards, the chair tripping him in the process. Despite being dazed and on the floor, Dillon managed to come up with a quick plan to get out of this situation. Using his powers, he threw the remains of the jacket in Atticus's face, blinding him. As he struggled to remove it, Dillon hopped to his feet, picked up the chair, and slammed it as hard as he could on top of the Psion's skull. Atticus went down in a heap, blood pouring from his head. Without hesitation, he bashed him with the chair three times for good measure, at least until the man stopped moving.
Dillon panted heavily after dropping the blood-covered chair. He was fortunate that the Psion underestimated his abilities, but there was still the minor detail of being in a country he knew nothing about with everyone out to kill him. For right now, the only thing he could focus on was getting out of this facility before backup arrived.
Backup. That one word caused Dillon to stop in his tracks. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but experience taught him that prisoners of his caliber would have many guards on the alert. Apparently, killing Atticus wasn't good enough to gain their attention. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Suddenly, one of the doors swung open, prompting Dillon to yank off a leg from the chair to use as a weapon. He waited, but no one entered the room. He slowly approached the opening, preparing to attack anyone that would try to come after him. However, there were no footsteps, voices, loading of weapons or anything else to indicate there were guards approaching. The only sound being heard was his own breathing.
The moment Dillon went through the doorway, his eyes widened in horror at the sight before him.
Two chairs, chains, a door on the other side of the room, and a strange light dangling from the ceiling. It was an exact replica of the room he woke up in. What caused him to drop the chair leg was Atticus leaning against the wall, looking no worse for wear. Not a single scratch on his body nor his suit. It was as if the fight never happened.
"Why don't you try the other door?" Atticus suggested simply.
Dillon whirled around to bolt in the other direction but found himself recoiling. From the light to the placement of the chairs, everything returned to normal. Even Atticus's body was replaced by a very alive Psion who was helpfully opening the door for him. Even from his position, he could see that it led to the same exact room.
"Remarkable, isn't it?" the Atticus behind him spoke. "We Psions are crafty creatures, always finding a way out of a bad situation. It took quite a bit of trial-and-error to keep Jacob contained within my facility."
A surge of anger coursed through Dillon. "What the hell did you do?"
His chuckle echoed in the room. "The mind is a complicated organ. It can serve functions that we can't even begin to comprehend, but one thing I know very well is how it can react to trauma. With the right stimulus under a specific set of circumstances, the mind can dissociate itself from a memory that could cause harm. Matthew clearly did this to himself if Elise's messages to me were any indication. The memories still exist, but until the right trigger occurs, they will always be avoided." He gestured around him as if presenting a great invention. "The perfect prison for any Psion: forever trapped in their own minds with no way to escape."
Snarling, Dillon attempted to exit his mind, but it was like running into an impregnable barrier. Every action taken resulted in nothing more than a bleeding nose. And Atticus just stood there, watching with a smirk on his face. That's when Dillon slammed the man against the wall in a fit of rage. "If you don't let me out, I'm gonna carve your throat out with my bare hands!"
He rolled his eyes and then disintegrated into dust along with the others. "I told you before that it's pointless to resist the inevitable, so do yourself a favor and don't waste your breath." Now, his voice seemed to come from every corner of this hellhole. "You brought this upon yourself the moment you decided to attack the Warriors."
Desperately, Dillon began to bash the wall with the chair and only succeeded in breaking the chair. There really was no way out.
"So, I formally welcome you to Project Psion, Dillon. Now… and forever."
It took only a moment for Atticus to return to his body. He felt a bit stiff, but a good stretching session would help. "How much time was that?" he wondered aloud.
"One minute and forty-nine seconds, Mr Tybur," a doctor answered, holding up a stopwatch.
That perplexed him slightly as he stared at the unconscious boy. "Hmm… usually I only take less than a minute. I'll have to make a note of that."
Unlike the mental labyrinth he was imprisoned in, Dillon was instead chained to a bed. His body still bore the scratches, the bruises, and the burns from his fight with the Shifters. There was an IV attached to his left wrist pumping him full of morphine and chloral hydrate, to dull the sensation and keep him sedated. They didn't want him to awaken due to the pain he was in, even if Atticus forced him into a coma. His right wrist had another IV, but this was being used to extract blood. Best to make sure he wasn't bringing any diseases from the island. His leg was wrapped in some crude bandages that only served to remind the staff that he had a broken limb that should be avoided. To add further insult to injury, he was stripped of his clothes, but at least they had the basic decency to cover his torso area with a sheet.
Another doctor gently removed the IV taking Dillon's blood once she had four vials full. "In two weeks, we should be able to determine if he's carrying any sort of sickness."
"Make it three weeks," Atticus requested. "We can't take even the slightest chance."
"Understood." With that in mind, she stepped out of the room to deliver the samples to the lab.
"At the very least, we deprived Paradis of a powerful weapon," the man continued. "But to see the potential this boy has to waste would be a tragedy."
"Let's pray that day doesn't come," the remaining doctor stated as he cleaned his glasses. "We can handle this, Mr Tybur. I promise you'll be the first to know if we find something."
Atticus chuckled, shaking his hand. "Good luck, Dr Carmichael."
As he began to leave, a familiar voice popped into his head. "You shouldn't worry so much, Atticus. I've got him under control."
"It pays to be cautious, Ymir," he replied silently. "The future of the world depends on this project. If something goes wrong, everyone pays the price." In the distance, he could hear the blood curdling screams of the Psions that lost their mental faculties due to the project. Some would be killed for the safety of his team, while others would be studied to prevent these occurrences from happening in the future.
"At least you can rest for the moment," she assured. "You've done everything you could."
"Perhaps." He stepped outside onto the balcony, ignoring the chilly weather that affected his body.
Twenty years ago, he and his fellow Psions were imprisoned in this very facility: a three-story building on the edge of a cliff. The location not only provided a great view of the ocean, which was about five miles away, but it had a tactical failsafe. Marleyan hubris allowed Carolyn, Matthew, and the other Psions to escape. This time, a military outpost was stationed about a quarter-mile down the road. Besides falling, which would end in a very painful death, it was the only way in and out. If that failed and Atticus was unavailable, the Warhammer Titan would make short work of any enemies who tried to cross them. Some would call it overkill, but when it came to Psions, anything less would be a grave mistake.
At the foot of the facility, Atticus watched a Psion sparring with Private Felder. Many would call it dangerous and foolhardy to fight on the edge of a cliff. Such fears were meant to be conquered if the Psions were going to win against the Titans. Sure, Felder and Klein were trained to catch anyone who fell, but that safety net wouldn't last forever. Eventually, it would be sink or swim, and all liabilities would be terminated.
"Atticus, take the win," Ymir strongly advised. "Do you know how rare it is for people to have second chances, much fewer people like you? I had nothing to do with this. When the world is right again and everyone looks back, they will see it is you who led them into a golden age of peace."
Atticus took the high praise in stride, though he allowed a smile to appear. "I still think you deserve some of the credit."
"I don't believe your people will take too kindly to you working with the devil herself," she pointed out. "My anonymity is part of our arrangement, and I want you to keep it that way."
"I know." He couldn't help but feel a bit disgruntled over that fact, but Ymir was right. If anyone found out, especially his wife, he could kiss his life goodbye. What he had to offer would be meaningless if he was executed, so this was a compromise he was willing to make.
The silence between the two was broken by Ymir saying, "Dillon is contacting me. He believes I am the answer to his crisis. Go home to your wife. I'll take it from here."
The Psion let out a sigh as the weight of the world seemed to be lifted from his shoulders. "Then I will leave him in your capable hands. Good luck, Lady Ymir." The hard part was over. Now, he could rest.
With a ferocious scream, Dillon tossed the chair into the wall, the loud noise echoing in the room. He had been attempting to escape for what felt like hours, but every attempt did nothing but exhaust himself. Atticus was far stronger than he was, and this prison was proof positive of that. Every crack in the wall was resealed. Every change in the room returned to normal in the blink of an eye. Once again, he found himself in a state of absolute helplessness.
The Psion slammed his fist into the wall, causing another set of cracks to form. His life was nothing more than being the universe's punching bag. It was like the world ran solely on his suffering. Everything he had ever gained in life was torn away. How miserable was that? As the cracks faded away, he sank to his knees. There was no point in fighting… any…..
….
….
….wait.
Dillon stared intently at the wall before punching it again. Just like the previous times, the cracks faded away. However, the action sparked a familiar memory, something he didn't really have time to dwell on until now.
He broke the Wall in Shiganshina. He risked the entire country, and, arguably, the world to keep the Beast Titan at bay. And yet, he knew that everything would be fine since Zeke could seal up the opening with his powers. There was just one, massive problem with that line of thinking: how the hell could he possibly have known that?
Hardening was a process even Annie didn't know the full extent of. She couldn't even keep her Titan form together in that test back then. Obviously, she didn't know and he clearly didn't figure it out for himself. And then there's the fact that Dillon almost doomed humanity. Whatever his faults were as a person, he would never have gone that far to save his own skin. The closest he ever got was confronting the Female Titan in Stohess, but that was a different situation.
So, with those facts, out in the open, what options remained that could make sense of this outrageous inconsistency of his character? Only one answer came to mind, and it didn't seem possible.
"It wasn't me," Dillon whispered.
It was like he came across a thread that didn't belong, a color that was subtly sticking out amidst an article of clothing. He never noticed it before because he had no reason to look. Now, he was determined to follow this trail to see where it would lead. Perhaps this was just him succumbing to insanity at long last, but at this point, he had nothing left to lose. On top of that, the more he thought about it, the more his gut turned at the implications. Something was very wrong, and he needed to find out what.
The lifeless room vanished, and in its place was the familiar sight of a storage room. At least Atticus couldn't prevent him from examining his own memories. It had been years since he visited this place, not since the ODM gear test Shadis put him through. Those days felt like a completely different life, but he could mull over those times later. That gut feeling was getting stronger, so he was definitely on the right track. His eyes drifted to the various labels marking the seemingly endless sections until they located the one marked Titans.
He approached the area slowly, like a thief looking to steal something valuable from an unsuspecting victim. The closer he got, the more he could detect a presence. It made him feel cold and afraid, something he hadn't experienced since Annie murdered his squad. He spared a glance at the Female Titan section, but it wasn't coming from there. Not this time. His footsteps quickened as if he was about to be caught, goosebumps breaking out across his body. Why did he feel this way?
At last, he came upon the Wall Titans section, which only had one box of files, and he immediately dumped the contents onto the floor. Page after page was thrown aside in a desperate attempt to find the source of this madness. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears to a dangerous frequency. Not that he cared about that. The source had to be found before it was too late.
Too late for what?
No idea.
Once Dillon nearly reached the bottom of the pile, he froze upon seeing a simple piece of paper. It looked like the rest of the pages, giving a clear, concise description on how the hardened Walls worked, and yet, there was something so wrong. This page didn't belong because there was no possible way he could have known this information. Someone, or something, had planted this knowledge within him.
Dillon began to realize who could have done this, his eyes widening in horror. "No," he said, shaking his head. "It can't be."
There was only one way to be certain.
Taking a deep breath, he stretched his hand out and touched the page.
His body began to spasm violently as if he was having a seizure. Memories began flooding into his mind so fast that he couldn't keep track of them. Destruction and mayhem seemed to be the common theme if the screaming humans were any indication. At some points, he felt himself taller than the Walls themselves, even taller than the Colossal Titan. What the hell was going on?
It was too much for Dillon to take, but instead of just curling into a ball while hoping this would all go away, a surge of anger filled him up. This wasn't Ymir's mind. This was HIS mind. This was HIS home. This was HIS life! He wasn't just gonna stand around and take it. So, with his eyes blazing at full power, he let out a ferocious scream. "ENOUGH!"
The memories came to a screeching halt as a result, freezing on a destroyed village. His heavy breathing was the only sound that could be heard, though he was more focused on contemplating the situation. Atticus was right about one thing: it was amazing how peace and quiet could help with his clarity. Right now, he needed to figure out what the hell she was up to. She didn't seem to notice that all this was going on, but that could change at any given moment.
Suddenly, he felt a twinge of familiarity within the thread he had been following. There was someone else involved in all this. Taking a deep breath, he concentrated on that thread and followed it deep into the memories, bypassing every horrendous image. This was the only thing that needed to matter in this situation. Then, the world came to a complete stop, blackness overtaking him. Whatever he expected, this wasn't it.
"I know you're there."
Dillon gasped, recoiling from the sudden voice. He should have known that this was too easy. Now, Ymir Fritz was going to put him through a world of pain. His eyes clenched shut as he awaited the first blow.
"I can feel your presence. Searching and prodding for answers regarding the deaths of Matthew and Elise. You're a Psion just like Dillon. We should talk."
No one responded to those statements. Then, a grave voice manifested itself. "Who are you?"
Dillon's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. That was Atticus!
"My name is Ymir Fritz. Perhaps you have heard of me."
His voice seemed to be a lot more guarded now. "The First Titan. The one who gave birth to the demons roaming this world. How are you still here after all this time?"
"The Attack Titan was merged with the Coordinate," she explained. "I was awakened as a result, and now, I see how the world has changed in my absence."
"The boy doesn't seem to be a Titan Shifter," Atticus pointed out.
"No. He's more than that. He is a being that could finally bring an end to the Titans-no. My people, that have roamed the Earth for far too long." She paused for a moment. "Do you seek the same, Atticus?"
"...I do."
"Then I suggest we help each other."
A bright light blinded Dillon's eyes for a minute, but once it faded away, he wished that he could have remained blissfully ignorant.
It was a human brain that currently pulsated like his heart did. However, unlike typical brains, this one had the unfortunate addition of what could be best described as an ethereal parasite. Pure white like the moon seen on a cloudless night, shimmering to represent its divinity, and tendrils that were latched onto various areas of the brain. Dillon knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that this thing, the creature, was Ymir Fritz. And, like the majority of the people in his life, she had used and betrayed him.
Things were finally becoming clearer now that he could detect how she tainted his mind. The more he followed the trail she left behind, the more the truth shined brighter than the sun. His constant falls into madness and agony? Her rancid smell could be detected among his emotions from those moments. Him acting stupidly against the Scout Regiment? All thanks to her in an effort to drive him apart from his comrades and into her tender, loving care. Even her appearance was all part of the con, playing upon the abnormal attraction he felt towards the Female Titan. She had been slowly corrupting his mind. From the start, she had manipulated him into trusting her, and it all led to this moment.
Any terror that lingered in his heart, and any anger currently coursing through his veins begging for a release were overshadowed by a conclusion that came upon him.
She didn't know that he figured it out.
By now, Ymir would have locked him up in her realm or tried to do something more to his mind than she was already doing. Or maybe she would have found a way to erase this memory so that he could return to being the hopeless, hapless tool she turned him into. Despite her presence, there were limits to her power that could not be ignored such as there being a trail for him to follow straight back to her. This was why true mind control couldn't work, and if it did, it couldn't last. Dillon's mind had finally found a way to start rebelling against her interference, giving him back the control he so desperately needed.
But now that he knew the truth, what could be done?
He could destroy this demon once and for all before she could cause any more harm. Unfortunately, even if he did, there was no guarantee that he could escape from his mental prison. Then, there was the tiny, insignificant detail of him being trapped in a completely different country he knew nothing about. Whatever information Annie had about Marley was more than likely outdated.
Curiously, Dillon returned to that memory of Atticus and Ymir speaking to each other through a mental link. The more he listened to it, the more he felt like there was something there. It all seemed to revolve around Ymir's hesitation before asking Atticus if he shared the same goal as her. Perhaps he was overthinking it, but maybe, just maybe… there was something Ymir was hiding from her Psion ally. There was no way to find out for sure without getting caught, but his gut told him that she had something bigger planned than just Project Psion. She had her own agenda.
Then, a smile began to crease Dillon's face. Ymir Fritz was playing a game, was she? She thought that she held all the cards at this moment? Sure, she carried an advantage, but not for long. No more was he going to relinquish control over himself to anyone. No more outside influences dictating what kind of person he was going to be. Whatever choices he made from here on out would be his own. And he knew exactly where to start.
His eyes flashed and he returned to the metal room. Taking a deep breath, he made his first move, allowing some of his stronger emotions towards Atticus and his crappy situation to come to him. "Ymir?" he whispered hesitantly.
For a few seconds, there was no response. He was about to call her name again when the room dissolved into light. The blacksmith shielded his eyes as the world shifted to the realm inhabiting his mind. Instead of landing on the grass, he ended up in the palm of Ymir's hand, whose violet eyes were glistening with worry.
"I would have retrieved you sooner, but I didn't want Atticus to discover my presence," she quickly explained.
"Smart thinking. If he cut us off, we'd both be in trouble," Dillon said, shaking his head. "I thought my father and Elise were strong, but this? I can't even begin to imagine what he's capable of!" He buried his face in his hands, allowing the frustration to kick in.
Ymir heaved a heavy sigh. "This isn't the way I was hoping we'd do this, but Atticus accidentally provided an opportunity for me to fulfil my end of the bargain. That is if you're still willing to have me."
Whatever Dillon expected her to say, that definitely wasn't it. '"If I'm still willing to have you?"' he repeated.
"I failed you, Dillon," Ymir lamented, her eyes filling with tears. "I truly believed you could strike with a decisive victory. Instead, I handed you over to your enemy." Damn, she was good. No wonder she had been able to win him over.
"W-Wait a minute, Ymir," he stammered. "We had no idea that Atticus was working with the Shifters. It's not your fault. It was a mistake. We all make them. I mean, look at me and what I've been through. If it wasn't for you, I would have lost my mind a long time ago. Out of everyone in my life, you have been the only one who hasn't abandoned me. I know we haven't gotten started on our training, but you've been… a light in my darkness." God, he wanted to puke.
She brushed the liquid off her eyes and managed to collect herself. "Thank you for your kind words, Dillon. Even so, I should have known better. But know this." To his surprise, she pressed him against her cheek in the form of a hug. Her massive fingers gently caressed his back in an effort to soothe him. "No matter what happens, I will be with you. I will not allow this man, this project, this country, or this world to destroy you any longer. From this day forward, I will make you stronger than you have ever imagined. As long as you put your faith in me, I will not let you down. You will be free. I promise you."
From these words, Dillon could gather three things.
First and foremost, Ymir Fritz was the biggest bitch in the universe. There was another word he could have used, and it would have been just as valid a description. This Titan hug was exactly like Annie's, and he wanted to rip her head off. None of this was real. Just a carefully planned-out deception that had been in the works for a while.
Second, it seemed like she had plans for Atticus and Project Psion. Dillon could theorize for months on what it could be, though he hoped it involved complete and utter annihilation. That was something he could get behind regardless of how he currently felt about her.
Third, and most importantly, she seemed to have no clue about him playing along with her facade. That spoke highly about her arrogance. Hell, she didn't guard the knowledge she implanted within him most likely out of a belief that he was incredibly stupid to put two and two together. Or maybe she did know that he knew and she was stringing him along to tear him down when the time was right. While it was tempting to make an attempt to kill her (or, at least, destroy her presence within his mind), he needed to get stronger first. The Titan Shifters, Marley, other countries, and who knew what else were still threats to his people. If he was going to have any chance of helping them in this war, he needed a teacher. No way in hell was anyone getting in the way of that, and that was what would keep him sane and focused. Revenge against Ymir Fritz was guaranteed. It was only a matter of time.
Slowly, Ymir pulled him out of the hug and warmly smiled at him. At long last, she believed to have him exactly where she wanted him to be. "Are you ready, Dillon?"
Dillon smiled back at her, knowing just how wrong she was. He was in control, and soon, she would know it. "Yes, I am."
AN: I'm just gonna go ahead and say it in case any of you are worried: Ymir has no idea that Dillon figured it out. For once, he is gaining control over himself, but is making sure that she doesn't get clued in. My original intent was to wait until WAY later to reveal that Dillon knew what Ymir was doing to him, but considering the massive backlash I've been getting, I think I needed to change some tactics.
Now, this may come to a bit of a disappointment to some of you, but this is the last appearance of Dillon Amsdale UNTIL the Return to Shiganshina Arc. I will not say at what point he will return (I have to keep SOME secrets close to the vest), but he is coming back. And when he does… well, you guys have seen the trailer.
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I'm looking forward to your reviews, please consider contributing to the TV Tropes Page, and I'll see you all in the next one.
