Hey there readers, it ya boy, rowboat.
I bet some of you were excepting this to be the dreaded author's note after almost three months of silence but nope, this is something much worse. A big old pile of steaming excrement!
I had huge issues with this chapter; writers' block, real-world issues and just general pain with it. This wasn't the chapter I wanted to write, but my skills and abilities simple couldn't bridge the gap so I wrote this instead which to me personally feels like a complete cop-out and the worst of both worlds. Basically, it got to a point where I was like, I need to just finish and post something so I can move on, or I'm going to fall out of love with NTT which I didn't want at all.
Hopefully, it's not too godawful lol.
'If I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend, I hope I should have the guts to betray my country.' - E. M. Forster
Several Months Ago
Bootcamp - Boy's Barracks
Night-time in the barracks was never truly quiet. There was always a muffled din of snoring or the shifting of scratchy sheets. When the wind was blowing there was also the low creaking of the building's timbers.
Almost all the boys had become desensitised to these sounds during their years sleeping here, to the point where some of them could probably sleep through a small explosion if they had a particularly heavy day of training under their belts.
On this night, however, there were still two boys who hadn't quite reached that nirvana of unconsciousness yet.
"Hey, Eren. You still up?" Reiner whispered across the bunks at his friend, ironically growing tired of failing to fall asleep. He had heard Eren shifting around a lot recently, which generally meant he was struggling to sleep just as much.
With a long breath, Eren turned his head to meet Reiner's gaze, breaking his unseeing stare at the barrack's roof. "Yeah." He mumbled, aware they were probably the only two still awake. "What's up?"
"Did… Did I do something to piss Armin off?" Reiner asked, cautiously eying the faint outline of the sleeping blond several beds over.
"Huh? What do you mean?" Eren twisted his whole body over, also sparing a quick look at his friend before looking back at Reiner.
"Well, you know how we were paired up today, right?" Eren nodded at his question. "He only said about three words to me during the thing, and it sounded like each one was being forced out of him." Reiner sighed. "I get the feeling he's been mad at me for a while, but today was an eye-opener. Hell, I talked with Ymir more today than I did with him."
Of course, his 'talk' with Ymir was more a bunch of insults being thrown back and forth, but there had never been any love lost between them. Armin, however, was a different case. They had been friends or at least acquaintances at the start of training, then it just seemed to fall apart out of nowhere.
"So, I was wondering if he mentioned anything to you about it? Whatever it is I want to make it up to him, as I'll probably need his brains on my side when those theory exams come round."
Eren was quiet for a long moment, and he averted his gaze, lightly chewing on his lower lip. At first, Reiner thought he had hit the nail on the head, and that Armin had told Eren what was up. However, when Eren eventually answered, it wasn't what Reiner was expecting at all.
"I… I don't know, Reiner." Even in a low whisper, Eren's voice was strikingly sombre, a completely alien sound for the impassioned teen. "We used to tell each other everything but recently..." The green-eyed teen trailed off, causing Reiner to raise an eye. He can't recall ever hearing Eren so unsure about something, not even after his disastrous first attempt at 3DM.
Reiner had just been trying to find out why Armin didn't like him, but it looks like he's stumbled on another problem. And that meant it was time for him to help his friend. "But recently…?" He quietly probed.
If it wasn't for the darkness in the barracks, Reiner would have seen the faint redness around Eren's ears, but he did hear the forceful exhale that escaped Eren's lips. "…You remember what you asked me when we were out in Trost for remembrance night? About Armin and Mikasa?"
Reiner furrowed his brow at the seemingly random question, and quickly thought back to that night, (or at least the parts he could that weren't lost to the alcohol). It took a moment, but Reiner soon remembered the question he had asked.
"Oh..." He breathed out, starting to see where Eren was going with this.
Turning his head, Reiner checked Bert was still asleep before quietly slipping from their shared bunk and padding barefoot over to Eren's. Switching beds during the night was a semi-regular occurrence in the boy's barracks, in line with their unspoken rules about the occasional need for privacy, so no one would bat an eye if they saw him bunking with Eren.
It also made for a convenient excuse to continue a meaningful late-night talk without having to whisper at each other across the room.
"Shove over." He murmured, before dropping down next to Eren. He could tell this was it was bothering Eren a lot, and Reiner hated to see one of his friends in distress. "I'm guessing I was right then... How did you find out?" He asked once he had settled back down.
It was a lot easier to find a comfortable position here than when he had been resting next to Bertholdt, especially since the lanky teen had started his nightly dance. He cared for Bert immensely and would happily give his life for him, but so help him, if Reiner gets another elbow or knee dug into places where no elbows or knees should be tonight he was going to scream.
Eren sighed, gripping his pillow in a fist. "I- I overheard them talking a few weeks back." Now closer to Eren, Reiner could see through the darkness at how the redness around Eren's ears quickly spread to the rest of his face. "They were talking about... doing it."
Reiner's eyes widened in surprise before he turned to look at the sleeping guy in question. A grin broke across his face as he heard Armin snoozing away, oblivious to the world. Of all the guys in the barracks to get to that stage, he never expected Armin to be the first. Hell, as far as Reiner was aware, not even Franz had reached that stage yet, and he had been with Hannah practically since they started training.
'Good on ya, Armin.' He thought, proud of the blond boy. The blond man. He wasn't going to let whatever the issue was between them get in the way of him congratulating a brother in arms like Armin for that success.
Turning back to Eren, his wide grin quickly faded away at the look on Eren's face. He didn't look jealous as some small part of Reiner might have suspected, but instead he just looked uncomfortable, and a little bit hurt.
"You don't approve?" Reiner asked, neither accusatory nor confrontational. He wasn't going to jump to conclusions with only a fraction of the picture to work with.
"What?! No!" Eren hissed quietly, face morphing into an expression of annoyance. "I mean no, I don't disapprove, it's just… Argh! Look it's weird, alright. They're my friends, and I want them to be happy. It's just-" The usually hotblooded boy visibly deflated and made an idle gesture with his hand, unsure how to put his feelings into words but trying nonetheless. "This must have been going on for a while, but they still haven't said anything to me."
Fortunately, Reiner was a fraction more intuned with his emotional side. "You're annoyed they didn't tell you, and that they went behind your back."
"I guess," Eren answered with a half shrug. "I know it's stupid, and that they're free to do what they want, but they both seem so different since we started training. Sometimes it feels like they're not the same people I grew up with..."
Reiner could get that, perhaps not to the same extent, but he got it. Bert had changed since Annie's desertion, growing quieter and more distance, even from him. Some days Bert barely talked to him as well, seemingly preferring the company of his own mind than him.
It kind of hurt if Reiner was honest, but he knew that Bert had a thing for Annie, so it had hit him harder than most. He knew Bert would bounce back eventually so Reiner decided to just support him when he could, but also give his close friend the space he so clearly needed.
"I get that." He nodded, cocking his head at Bertholdt, trusting Eren would get his point. "But we've all changed since we signed up, Eren. That's just part of life. I know it can't be easy, but try not to let it get to ya. They are still your mates, and maybe the reason why they haven't said anything is that they aren't sure themselves. Just give them some time, they'll come around eventually."
"Yeah, you're probably right." Eren conceded quietly, the worry in his eyes starting to fade. "I don't want to make it more awkward by asking. It's just strange to think of them doing stuff like that."
Reiner sounded his agreement with a low hum, proud of his young friend. While Eren probably didn't realise it himself, he had changed as well over the two years Reiner had known him. It was a small change and a fairly subtle one at that, but Eren had matured somewhat since their enrollment. Now he could very occasionally get insulted by Jean without kicking off into a full-on fight. It was a drastic improvement in Reiner's eyes, especially when compared to those first few months of training.
Of course, a big part of that change came from Shadis literally beating some maturity into the two of them, but an improvement is an improvement, regardless of its origin.
"I often am," Reiner told the brunette, lightly punching his shoulder with a smug smile. "But if you ever need some space, feel free to sit or train with me. Even if you are loud as hell sometimes, you'll always be my mate, Eren."
"I'm not loud!" Eren loudly whispered, before hushing himself with a sigh. "...and I might take you up on that sometime."
The two boys fell quiet, each processing what had been said.
'Damn, this got heavy fast.' Reiner silently mused, 'I only wanted to find out why Armin doesn't like me… but I'm glad I found this out instead. Must have been really chewing Eren up inside.'
Not wanting to leave this late-night conversation on such a deep note, Reiner decided to lift the mood slightly with a joke, momentarily forgetting how clueless Eren could be.
"And you know, if you're really feeling left out, you could always ask to join them. I'm sure they wouldn't say no. You three are closer than most friends, after all."
Eren just blinked, then frowned. "Wouldn't that make me a third wheel if I joined them on dates and stuff? I don't want to make it more awkward."
'Not the sort of three-person activity I was getting at Eren…' Reiner sighed mentally. His legendary humour and wit wasted. "Ah, good point, just ignore me. Anyway, we should try and get some shut-eye before Shadis's next round of torture."
"Good idea, I've heard it's more survival training. Marching through the forest and camping or some shit." Eren grumbled, rolling onto his other side to get comfy. "G'night Reiner… and thanks. I knew I could always count on you."
"Don't mention it, man. See you in the morning." Reiner whispered back, also turning over, so they were back to back before closing his eyes and gradually letting his dreams take him from the waking world.
While he may have not gotten an answer to the Armin question, Reiner was satisfied that he had helped Eren with his problem. He slept that night with a small, proud smile on his face.
After all, putting the needs of others in front of yourself is what being a good friend and a soldier is all about.
And that's precisely what Reiner was.
Present day
Several hours after Armoured Titan sighting
It was the worst storm in living memory. From the mansions of Mitras to the still war-torn homes of Trost, hatches are battened down, windows hastily barricaded and doors firmly secured. And all anyone could do after that was huddle in a room for the night and pray.
Pray that their windows would survive. Pray that their roof would stay attached. Pray that their walls were strong enough to stand up to the howling wind as it relentlessly slammed into anything that dared to stick out of the ground.
Wood creaked and groaned, stone vibrated, and glass rattled and cracked.
A few miles north of Ragako a clandestine operation was forced to stop and seek shelter in an abandoned tower when the elements became too fierce even for the hardiest of humanity's defenders to endure.
In Mitras, four men sat around the table in a shadowy room in the heart of the Royal Palace, occasionally sparing glances at the two empty seats belonging to their King and his insane lapdog, wondering where they had gone.
And in the Commander's office of the survey corp headquarters, Humanity's most loyal assistant could barely hear himself think as the storm raged outside. In his pale shaking hands was a letter written in his Commander's hand, and delivered to him personally by a weather-battered messenger from the Garrison. He read it again and again, as a pit grew in his stomach.
'Something has come up. We won't be returning to HQ for several days. Mike injured, currently recovering at Trost. You have command until we return, Moblit. Hanji made the right call picking you. - E.S.'
His hand reached toward the bottle on the table, but he stopped himself and instead rose to his feet. There was work to do, and he wasn't going to let Erwin down. He wasn't going to let Hanji down.
But far to the south, over Wall Rose, and beyond the Titans and lands that were lost, stood Wall Maria, the once-mighty shield that guarded the realm, now broken open and useless. Here, over this fallen bastion of man, was where the storm hit hardest, unleashing its full fury, causing even the Wall itself to tremble and vibrate under the primal forces of nature being unleashed against it.
Bolts of lightning struck the ground and the trees, setting fires only for them to be quickly doused by the torrential rain. Wildlife, both big and small, predator or prey, desperately sought shelter, cowering under trees, digging deep into their burrows or seeking the refuge of a cave. Even the Titans seemed to be cowed by the storm, forcing the largest ones to lean into the wind to continue their relentless march towards Wall Rose while the smaller, less capable Titans were lifted clean off their feet and tossed about like leaves by the howling winds.
It was a tremendous display of nature's power and one that almost went unwitnessed. Almost.
Even over the near-deafening wind, the sound of slow thudding footfalls could be heard echoing through the forest. The ground shook and trees trembled as great gouges were torn from the earth with every step.
The Armoured Titan stomped through the woods towards its destination, uncaring of the clear tracks it was leaving behind with its dragging feet. The once-imposing Titan was a shell of its former self. Gaunt and emaciated, and perhaps most striking, missing most of its protective covering and exposing the vulnerable withered muscles beneath.
It had to shed its armoured plating almost two hours ago to even have the chance of making it this far, and even then this journey had pushed the Titan to its very limits. Steam was rising from its naked form, not from its accelerated healing, but from its own body starting to break down and disintegrate from the impossible strain.
It was only the knowledge of just how close its destination was that kept the Titan going.
Ahead, through the darkness and gloom, the Titan could see the forest starting to thin out, signalling its imminent arrival. Digging deep into its almost spent reserves of energy, the armourless Armoured Titan managed to pick up the pace from its exhausted crawl to a manic stumble as it pushed itself onwards. After a minute or two of swaying like a drunkard and crashing into trees, it finally broke out of the woods and stood aloft in an open plain. Bright red eyes were locked onto the sight before it, taking it all in.
Were it capable of doing so, the Titan would have breathed a sigh of relief. It had never held this form for so long before, especially with its newfound… handicap… but through sheer determination, will and shedding as much weight as possible, the Armoured Titan had made it.
The moment of reflection was broken but a loud, fleshy tear, as the Titan's left arm sheared off at the shoulder, crashing to the ground with a thud. Nearly falling over from the sudden weight change, the Titan stared at the detached limb for a moment, before looking back at the rapidly dissolving stump it had fallen from.
Just made it.
He was falling. Faster and further than ever before. He fell like a stone, plummeting endlessly as he twisted and rolled over and over again, spinning endlessly down this bottomless pit.
Human skulls lined the walls of the pit, encircling around and stacked on top of each other. There were thousands. Millions. Billions.
Some were big, some were small. Some were whole and shapely, smooth and ivory white. Others were broken and deformed, weathered and stained.
He fell deeper and deeper until the skulls had started to break down, crushed and ground into fine powder under the colossal weight above. Before long, all he could see was just fragments and grains of bone mixing together in the walls until it looked like they were made from nothing more than silt and sand, and that was when he finally saw the bottom of the pit, rapidly rising to meet his falling body.
It looked like an impossibly vast pool of blood, covering swirling crimson eddies and boiling with roiling red waves that reached miles high. He barely had to recognise what he was seeing before he smashed into the blood like a bullet, sinking into the sticky red fluid like a stone.
He floats in the scarlet ocean for a moment, trying to regain his bearings before realising he could no longer breath. Panic sets in and he starts to desperately kick his legs and swing his arms like oars, trying to swim back up.
He kicks and rows, and kicks and rows, until he nearly reaches the surface. He's so close that with the next row his arms, his blood-soaked hands breach the top and for the briefest of moments he could feel the gentle caress of fresh air against his skin.
It was the closest he ever came to freedom.
Moments before his head can join his hands out of the blood, something from the darkness below reaches out and grabs his ankle, stopping him dead. He tries to kick it off, but the thing has a grip like iron and starts to drag him back down into the scarlet ocean.
Deeper and deeper it pulls him, even as he continues to fight against it. The pressure grows against his chest, compressing his burning lungs. His heart was hammering, increasing in intensity and speed, like a bird trapped in a cage. His throat seared in agony with the rising pressure of trapped air, which pressed against his mouth. A few precious bubbles of air escaped the corner of his lips and then a few more.
With a final futile kick, he gave in to the building pressure, and his mouth snapped open, searching for a breath of air, only to inhale hot, coppery blood which flooded his mouth and passed down his throat into his lungs as the last vestiges of oxygen were forced out with an anguished scream.
Slowly, the desperate erratic jerking of his arms and legs ceased, as the last bubbles of air left his body. He stopped screaming and thrashing, allowing the blood to hold his body as he sunk ever deeper. His body was numb and unresponsive, and his vision had started to cloud over with darkness.
This was it.
This was the end.
Resigned to his fate, he closed his eyes and waited for the numbing hands of death to suck away every last piece of life left in him.
His last thoughts were not ones of regrets, or dreams or even of family or friends, but of a radiant sunrise, dazzling and beautiful, shining over a field of endless golden grass.
It was a peaceful thought to die with.
what are you doing?
you promised
reiner
get up
its time to go home
Reiner shot up, hand clutched against his rapidly beating heart as he gasped for air like a man starved of oxygen. A cold sweat coats his brow and the back of his neck, profusely trailing down his clammy skin and pooling in the collar of his shirt.
It was dark. Very dark. And cold. So cold in fact that every breath he takes comes with a burning sensation in his throat and lungs as the freezing air passes into them. When he breathes out, it takes the form of a misty cloud which hangs in front of his face for a moment before dissipating away.
For a moment, his head felt empty and hollow, like a blank canvas ready to be filled. In a slow trickle, memories started to fill in his consciousness. There was a ranch and breakfast, and a card game. He remembered his friends and comrades, and how they had all been waiting for something. What had it been? More training?
Yes, that was it. They were going to be tested to see what squad they would be joining. He needed to put his best foot forward.
But there was more.
Something had happened. Something bad...
The MPs!
The MPs had attacked them, beating up the veterans and threatening to take Krista away for some unknown reason. Bastards.
Reiner could remember confronting them, but everything started to get hazy and muddled, like looking in a broken mirror and seeing only fragments of your reflection.
He remembered an argument, between himself, the MPs and- and Ymir. She had been beside him, even though he told her to stay with Krista. She had been acting stupid, purposefully trying to piss the MPs off, until… Until the leading MP had lifted his rifle and fired it at Ymir. And he had tried to push her out the way.
Reiner's mouth went bone dry, and his throat locked up tight, trapping the freezing air in his chest. With hands trembling at his side, and a growing pit in his stomach, Reiner listlessly inclined his head and looked down at his chest.
A strange high pitched wheezing sound escaped his tightly pressed lips as stared, horrified, at the massive bloodstain covering his shirt, the once white cotton now ruddy brown.
With unthinking impulsiveness, Reiner brought a pale shaking hand to his shirt and brushed his fingertips against the dried blood, checking it was really there. Some part of Reiner expected mind-rending agony to explode into existence at the faint touch, but to his own dumbfounded shock, Reiner felt nothing as he probed at the ruined material. There wasn't even a stab of discomfort as he poked at the stiff, dried blood.
'Am- am I dead?' Reiner wondered, fighting against the lump forming in his throat.
Any injury that could cause that much blood loss had to be fatal, right? He must have successfully pushed Ymir out of the way and taken the bullet himself, and this cold, dark place he found himself in was some kind of afterlife. That would explain why he wasn't feeling any pain from what should have been a horrific injury.
But, if that was the case and he was dead, why could he still feel the chill of the frigid air against his skin? Why were his legs sore and stiff from lying on the hard stone floor? Why was his heart still thundering in his chest?
What sort of afterlife would let him feel some pain and discomfort but not all? What was the point of that?
Was it possible that he was somehowstillalive?
The shaking in hand grew worse as Reiner gripped the hem of his shirt and after forcing out a long rattling breath, he lifted it up all the way to his collar, exposing his bare, unmarked chest and unblemished skin to his searching gaze.
Reiner froze at the sight, his only reaction being a simple blink of his vacant eyes, his mind unable to even comprehend what it was seeing. There wasn't a single mark on him, not one cut, graze or bruise. Hell, there was barely any blood on his skin either, only a handful of dried flakes which dotted his chest like spots.
It was impossible, totally and utterly impossible. So impossible in fact that it hurt his head to look at. It was a sharp, throbbing pain in the base of his skull and behind his eyes, like something was trying to break out.
With another shaky breath, Reiner forced himself to look away, letting his shirt drop back down, as the stabbing sensation slowly faded away as he attempted to explain the impossible.
Maybe he was imagining things, and his memories were flawed. Reiner was sure he had successfully pushed Ymir out of the way, but he had heard somewhere that sometimes when a person is exposed to a traumatic, high-stress situation their memories of the event can be inaccurate, or even flat out wrong. He didn't quite believe it at the time, and certainly never expected it would happen to him, (he was strong dammit! One of the strongest people in the 104th! He wasn't the sort to lose his mind and go crazy.) but that seemed to be the only possible explanation.
He must have tried to push Ymir out the way but hadn't been fast enough to save her. And the blood he was covered in wasn't his at all, but hers - a morbid testament to his failure.
If it wasn't so cold, Reiner would have taken the shirt off and thrown it away. Hell, he was considering doing that regardless of the temperature, feeling sick at the thought of wearing something coated in his comrade's blood.
'I'm sorry, Ymir…' Reiner closed his eyes and bowed his head. Even though they never liked each other, he had never wished her any harm, and certainly didn't want her to die in such a horrible way.
But he mustn't give in to despair. He can't. Not now. Yes, he may have failed Ymir, but there was the chance the others were still okay. If Sasha listened to him, then she and Krista should be safe somewhere, and hopefully, Marco was able to keep Connie and the others safe.
He owed it to Ymir to find them all again and protect them. It was his duty as a soldier and as a friend!
And to do that he needed to find out where he was, and preferably before the MPs who obviously brought him here came back.
His eyes had adjusted somewhat to the darkness during his attempt to piece together what had happened to him, but even then Reiner could barely see out more than a few metres in front of him. And unless he found some source of light, then that was probably as good as it was going to get.
Still, Reiner could work with that. Steeling himself, Reiner pushed himself up from the cold stone floor, his stiff limbs and joints popping and cracking with the movement. It takes him longer than he's proud to admit to fully stand up, feeling like the strength in his limbs and body had been sapped away, leaving him weak and vulnerable.
He briefly wonders if the MPs had drugged him. That would explain why he felt so weak, and how the MPs had gotten him from the ranch to wherever 'here' was without him realising.
Reiner grit his teeth, feeling violated and disgusted. He would make those MPs pay for what they had done.
For a moment, he thinks about calling out to see if the MPs had dragged anyone else here as well; his friends or the veterans, but quickly decides against it. They could still be knocked out and him calling out to them would only alert the MPs to his presence.
'Okay… okay… stay calm. Stay calm.' Reiner steadies himself. 'Think… just think... What would Armin do if he was here?'
Like many trainees from the 104th, Reiner had asked himself that question many times, but never before had it felt so important.
'Well, he could just sit tight for a while until Mikasa inevitably arrived, having fought her way through anything and anyone who got in her way, with Eren hot on her heels…' Reiner shook his head at the image. 'Okay, fine, what would Armin do if he didn't have Mikasa or Eren as friends?'
Reiner shifted his weight from foot to foot, before taking a cautious step forward. 'He'd probably investigate his surroundings. Try and find out where he was or at least look for stuff he could use.'
The MPs hadn't taken the time to tie him up or even restrain his hands, so they were either total morons, or they were confident there was nothing he could use against them. The corners of Reiner's lips twitched upwards into a brief but vicious grin, as he cracked his knuckles, starting to feel some of his strength returning. If they thought he wasn't a threat just because he was unarmed then the MPs had another thing coming. He'd get out of here with only his fists if he needed to.
With newfound determination, Reiner started to explore the darkness slowly and methodically, taking careful, silent steps as he snuck through the gloom. Being as big as he was, stealth was hardly his forte, but Shadis had taught him well and Reiner knew how to tiptoe around when he needed to.
He stalked passed large wooden barrels and crates, stacked up on top of each other until they almost reached the arched ceiling. Almost everything he saw was coated in a layer of dust and knitted together with thick cobwebs. Whatever this place was, it didn't get many visitors.
He crouched behind large metal cylinders when he thought he heard something skittered away ahead of him. It was only a rat, but when Reiner placed his hand against the steel vessel to push himself back up, he yanked it back with the sharp hiss.
If the air around him was cold, then those containers were positively freezing. It was like touching a block of ice with hands already soaked in frigid water. Reiner had to shove his hand under his armpit for several moments to offset the chill, before he felt comfortable enough to set off again.
Reiner wasn't sure what was in those tubes, but he doubted it was water.
'This looks like a storage depot. There's so much crap lying around.' The rather obvious deduction bounced around inside his head as he peeked around a stone pillar. 'Why would the MPs bring-'
Reiner shot back behind the pillar, slapping a hand over his mouth and holding his breath as if his life depended on it.
'Shit, shit, shit!'
There was the faint outline of a person leaning up against the next column, waiting for him in the dark.
Blood roared in his ears as his heart pounded like a drum. He expected to hear the figure shout out at any moment, either demanding he come out, or calling for reinforcements. It felt an eternity hiding behind that pillar, a hand clamped over his mouth to stop even the smallest sound from escaping his dry mouth.
A second passed, then another, then a few more, yet still the figure did not call out.
'Did- did they not see me?' Reiner dared to hope. If it wasn't for the noise it would have made, Reiner would have sighed in relief. He still had the element of surprise, and thus, the upper hand.
Reiner allowed his hand to drop from his mouth, allowing him to take a few soft gulps of air as he crouched down, and readied himself to strike. If this was going to work he needed to hit hard and take them down before they even had a chance to react.
'Alright, focus. Focus. I can do this, I can do this! Just knock 'em down then give them the old one-two.' Reiner counted down from five in his head, hyping himself up for what could be the first or last step of his escape. When he reached zero, Reiner burst out from behind the pillar and charged.
His boots slapped against the stone floor, sounding like miniature explosions in the otherwise silent depot. With a loud cry, Reiner slammed into the figure, knocking both of them off their feet and down onto the ground with a mighty crash. They rolled across the floor, struggling for dominance, but with the firm grip Reiner had on the figure's cloak he managed to get on top. He brought his fist up, ready to smash it down onto his opponent's face, hidden beneath a hood which slipped off to reveal…
Wooden pegs.
'Huh?!' Reiner froze in place, his fist hanging in the air, still threatening to come crashing down. His chest heaved from the sudden burst of movement, as he stared open-mouthed at the sight.
It was only after a few stupid blinks did Reiner realise what had happened. He had fallen for the oldest trick in the book. The 'figure' he had seen in the darkness wasn't a person at all, it was just a bunch of dusty, worn-out cloaks and jackets hung up on a clothes rack.
'...I'm such a fucking idiot.'
If the others ever found out about this he would never live it down.
As Reiner released his white knuckle grip on the pile of clothing, shaking his head at his own stupidity, he spotted something half obscured by the shifting fabric.
It was a rose - the red rose of the Garrison.
Grabbing the cloak again, Reiner pulled it away and gingerly picked up a standard-issue military jacket with the Garrison emblem clearly stitched onto the breast pocket and sleeve.
'What the hell? Is the Garrison involved as well?' He tried to imagine the MPs and Garrison working together to attack the scouts and take Krista away, but something felt wrong. Out of place. Why go through all that trouble to keep their involvement hidden then just leave him somewhere with evidence against them?
Reiner ran his thumb over the brown leather jacket, suppressing a cough at the dust brushed off by the action. This jacket and all the other clothes in the pile must have been here for a very long time to collect that much dust. Was this some old military depot?
If so, there was a good chance he was either somewhere within Wall Sina, or way up north where the Garrison didn't have such a strong presence. That would explain why they had left this depot in such a dismal state or abandoned it entirely.
Looking to his right, Reiner spotted a container rack filled with dozens of thick, rectangular boxes just gathering dust. His heart rate picked up at the sight. If his suspicions were correct about this being a Garrison supply cache, then he had a good idea of what those boxes might contain, but at the same time he refused to believe it was possible.
There was no way the MPs were that stupid, right?
Crawling over to the rack, Reiner grabbed one of the boxes and pulled into his lap, feeling the weight of it burning against his legs as he fumbled with the latch. His hands were clammy and trembling, not from the cold or fear, but from a nervous excitement which was starting to bubble up within his heart.
When the latch finally clicked open with a metallic snap, the lid sprung open and Reiner started to laugh. He didn't even try to stop himself. If there was someone down here he would have already given away his position thanks to his 'fight' with the clothing rack, so what did it matter if he chuckled to himself in the dark.
He had been wrong about something at least. The MPs really were that idiotic.
Inside the padded box was a complete set of 3DM gear; canisters, blades, straps and all. It would only take a few minutes to put even in the dark, and with that and the Garrison jacket and cloak, he had weapons and a disguise.
When his wheezing laughter eventually died out, Reiner got to work piecing the gear together. If the MPs wanted to leave him with all the stuff he might need to escape, then who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth?
Just like they had trained to do, Reiner had the whole set on within five minutes, letting the familiar tightness of the straps and rubbing of the buckles to wash away some of his lingering nerves. With this on he was unstoppable. With this on he was invincible.
Once the last spare blade was slotted into the holster boxes at his hips, Reiner grabbed a Garrison jacket in his size and threw it on, covering much of his bloody shirt. He hoped there wasn't a rule against pretending to be a soldier of another division, but he reckoned he would be forgiven in this situation. The hooded cloak was next, and so far it was the second most important thing he had found here, since he could use it to hide his face and newly acquired gear at a quick glance. It might only buy him a few seconds, but that moment of hesitation and confusion the MPs might feel at the sight of him could be the difference between life and death.
'Good idea, Armin. I owe you one.' Reiner thanked the smaller blond in his head, before giving his two blades a test swing, slicing through the air with a satisfying swish.
Now it was time to escape.
The plan was simple. Find a door, sneak out, try and find an MP, take them by surprise and force them to tell him everything, then, if his friends and comrades were here, go rescue them, making sure to kick some serious MP arses along the way in Ymir's name, then lead them out back to HQ in time for tea, and likely an immediate promotion.
Easy.
'Let's do this.'
Thirty Minutes later
'Fucking finally!' Reiner cursed having finally spotted a large wooden door after what felt like an eternity fumbling around in the dark. This depot had either been much more extensive than he had expected or he had been walking in circles. Either way, Reiner had almost given up hope of finding an exit when after walking past another dusty clothes rack, he came across a literal breadcrumb trail, in the form of several empty packets of hardtack biscuits discarded on the floor. He had followed those crumpled paper wrappings until he came across an open crate filled to the brim with more MREs.
They weren't coated in dust, which meant the crate must have been opened recently. Probably by the MPs after they dragged him here. Walls know why they would willingly choose to eat those tasteless MREs, but these were the same MPs who were incompetent enough to leave him unattended in a MILITARY supply depot…
Reiner shook his head in disdain. To think he had wanted to join their regiment once.
Looking beyond the opened food crate, Reiner spotted several more opened boxes and barrels laid out before him, as if someone had been searching through them as they passed through. Logically, if the MPs had been searching for MREs as they carried him in, then following the same path of opened crates back would lead him to the exit.
So that's what he did, following the trail of clues foolishly left behind. As he stalked past them, Reiner absently noted what each one contained from cannonballs and cartridges to medical equipment and replacement blades, (and in one barrel which he gave a wide berth too, gunpowder). Everything the military needed to function, further reinforcing his view that this was a Garrison supply cache.
A supply cache, which after so much searching, finally had an exit.
Almost sagging in relief at the sight of the large wooden door, Reiner quickly made his way over to it with an almost feverish spring in his step. He stood in front of it for a moment, gazing at the door like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His eyes trailed over every inch of it as if to make sure he wasn't dreaming before they landed on the two brass rings that made up the handles.
With his pale shaking hands and fingers nearly chalk white from the cold, he grabbed the handles and pulled. It should have been locked, but seeing the incompetence of the MPs displayed so far, Reiner isn't surprised when the large oak doors start to swing open. He is surprised however at the deafening metallic shriek that fills the room as the rusty iron hinges twist in their brackets.
The noise sends a chill down Reiner's spine. It sounded like a dying animal screaming out in pain. It made his insides itch.
Wincing in pain, Reiner stopped pulling before the door could fully open, leaving only a small opening for him to slip through. If he pulled any more he'd either deafen himself or alert every living being for a hundred miles of exactly where he was. Reiner didn't find either option particularly enticing, so he settled on squeezing himself through the narrow gap he had made.
It wasn't a pretty picture, nor an elegant one. Still, through a combination of persistence, silent curses, sucking in the gut and shifting the position of his hip boxes, Reiner managed to slip through the doorway from the cold, dark depot, to a cold, dark corridor.
'Would it kill the MPs to light a torch or something?' Reiner grumbled as he brandished his blades again. Some light and warmth would be nice, but the darkness would serve him well once he found an MP to sneak upon. He just hoped he wouldn't lose any fingers to frostbite before then.
Reiner hugged the wall as he walked along the bare stone tunnel, making himself small as possible as he strode past several closed doors. At each one he would stop and press his ear against it, hoping, or perhaps dreading, to hear some sign of life. But as he checked door after door, all he was met with was deafening silences. The few doors he dared open, terrified that their hinges would scream as well, revealed only empty cupboards and closets.
But there was one different door.
Reiner smelt it long before it came into view. A sickly sweet aroma permeated the air, like an invisible fog that grew stronger and more pungent with every step he took. It was a familiar smell, one Reiner was sure he had encountered before, yet couldn't put his finger on it.
Like a moth drawn to a flame, he crept over to the offending door, scrunching up his nose at the almost overpowering scent. Like all the other doors he had passed, there was no noise coming from beyond the sealed portal, just the eerie silence and the smell.
Even as his eyes started to water and his throat started to burn, something deep and visceral compelled Reiner to reach for the handle and look inside.
As soon as the door started to swing open the intensity of the stench slammed into Reiner like a punch to the stomach. He gagged and choked on the putrid air that washed over him, driving him to his knees. Through teary eyes, Reiner looked inside the foul-smelling room and saw something straight out of a nightmare.
Propped up against the far wall, clad in a garrison uniform with an old rifle lying beside it, was a withered, mummified corpse.
Its skin (the parts that hadn't rotted away at least) was grey and loose, clinging to rotting muscle as if it had been loosely draped over the corpse like a cloak. The body's hands were black and swollen, thickened with congealed blood to the point they were barely recognisable as belonging to a human.
But its face… Its face was the worst part.
Much of the man's (?) straw-like blond hair was missing, fallen out or blown off with much of the scalp, leaving a large hole behind and long dried stain splattered against the wall. Its cheeks were hollow and thin, and lips which had long since peeled back and rotted away to reveal the yellowed teeth and bone beneath.
And the eyes. Oh, god, the eyes. They were just gone. Nothing remained there except for two infinitely black voids that bored into Reiner's very soul with its haunting visage.
It wasn't the first body Reiner had the misfortune of seeing, but the bodies he had helped clean up in Trost, even though they were missing limbs or torn in half, were at least fresh. They hadn't been half decomposed like this one was.
Whatever confidence and mettle Reiner had been feeling before was shattered like glass. How long had this person been down here for, rotting away bit by bit until only that remained? Why the hell had the MPs left it here?! Did they leave it as a warning to others who might try and escape? Was this all some sick game?
Reiner stumbled back, his borrowed gear clanged loudly against the far wall. He felt sick and could feel burning bile rising in his throat. His hand shot up to cover his mouth as he fought to keep it down. It was only the fear that someone might come across him at any moment that stopped Reiner from doubling over and spewing his guts out.
Tearing his gaze away from the horrible sight, Reiner took several deep breaths, trying to ignore the foul smell of rotting meat. He had to stay strong for his friends. They were relying on him, and he wouldn't fail them like he had failed Ymir.
"I- I'm sorry." He breathed out, voice hoarse and cracking, as his eyes burnt with unshed tears. Reiner didn't know what else to do or say for the poor bastard, but he swore to himself that once he escaped, he would do everything he could to ensure this hell hole was investigated, and that this man would finally be laid to rest.
With great effort, Reiner managed to muscle the door shut again, in some desperate attempt to preserve what little remained of that soldier's dignity before he started to limp away, one hand resting over his still roiling as he lurched away from the body.
Reiner continued stumbling through the labyrinth of corridors, unable to get his mind of the sight and smell of that dead man. His head was starting to hurt again, the same sharp tug behind the eyes. With a pained hiss, Reiner ground the flat of his palm against his temple, hoping it might relieve some of the building pressure.
'Get out of my head. Let me think. I need… I need-'
"Reeeeeeeeiiiiiiinnnnnnnneeerrrrr."
His name came crawling forth from the void, like the faintest breath of morning wind. Reiner went stock still, every muscle in his body tensing up like steel. That voice… he knew that voice!
That was Bertie's voice, Reiner was sure of it. Sure as anything he's ever known. Had his oldest friend been taken by the MPs as well?
The thought made Reiner's heart skip a beat. If those sons of bitches have touched a single hair on his head, Reiner was going to fucking murder them.
"B-Bert?" He choked out, the sound echoing down the corridor. "You here?"
There was a pregnant pause as his own voice faded away. Reiner held his breath, hoping Bertholdt would answer him, to call out joyously or come running to him. Instead, Bert just called his name again, but this time his voice was softer, quieter, as if his friend was moving further away.
"reeeeeiiiinnnnneerrr."
"N-no, Bert! Come back! I'm over here!" Reiner shouted out, voice cracking and ears ringing from how loud it was after so much silence. All thoughts of the MPs which could be lurking in the dark vanished in an instant. Bertholdt was down here somewhere, and Reiner had to find him.
Without a second thought, Reiner started to run, speeding down the corridors and pathways, desperately trying to find his friend. He shouted out again and again, but Bert refused to answer back, only murmuring his name like a prayer.
"Come on, Bert! Talk to me! Where are you?!" Reiner followed the voice like a bloodhound, tearing past doors and junctions which blurred in the corners of his eyes.
"Fiiinnnddd mmeeeee."
He had to be getting close now, Bert's voice was louder than before. Much louder. As if his old friend was only around the next corner of this maze. Reiner brought his blades up, ready to cut down any MP who might have harmed his friend in a storm of steel.
But as Reiner launched himself around the next corner, nearly skidding into the wall from his momentum, what he saw was not his old friend, nor was it an MP, or anyone for that matter. No, what Reiner saw was light. Dazzling and brilliant, blinding and beautiful. A single slit of light shining down from on top of a grand staircase.
It was sunlight; warm and orange, and so bright that it almost hurt to look at. But look at it he did, eyes wide in disbelief. Reiner could hear the soft blowing of the wind and the sound of birds chirping.
It was the way out, the way to the surface. The way Bertholdt must have gone. Reiner didn't know who else could be down here, but if Bertholdt was up there, that's where he needed to be as well.
Sweating and breathing heavily, Reiner started to ascend the staircase, leaping up multiple steps at a time in his reckless pursuit. He still hadn't spotted any MPs yet, so there was a good chance they were waiting for them on the surface, and if Bertholdt had wandered, or been taken up there, then Reiner needed to save him.
'Come on, come on!'
Scrambling up the last few steps, Reiner didn't even stop in the face of the slightly ajar double door blocking his path, and instead simply charged right through it like a living battering ram. The impact which threw both doors open jarred his shoulder, but the pain didn't register in his mind as he barrelled out into the light, another mighty cry on his lips.
"BERTHO-"
Blinking in the blinding light of the sun, Reiner choked on the name, like a shard of glass which had been caught in his throat. In one fell swoop, all the air in his lungs was ripped away, and blood roared in his ears.
There was no Bertholdt.
And there were no MPs either.
What there was, however, laid out before as far as the eye could see was a city, deathly silent and deserted. Rows of houses, broken and crumbling, were separated by avenues and streets, whose cobbled paving stones were cracked and overgrown with weeds and vines. Carts and stalls were overturned and abandoned on the ground with whatever they once contained long since rotted away, leaving only the weathered wood and cloth frames behind.
It was like Trost in the days after the attack, but this was no district within Wall Rose, fresh from a barely stopped Titan incursion. No, this city was something far, far worse.
For in the distance, towering over the necropolis like an angry god, stood the shattered inner gate of Shiganshina.
*gasp* Reiner in Shiganshina?! What's he gonna do there? and will he realise what he is? Will Rowboat ever touch a Reiner chapter again this year or will he have a complete psychological breakdown if he does?
Sooo yeah... that was it... sorry.
To make up for this chapter I have a surprise for the first person who comments on AO3 or reviews on FF.