It helped that the corridor was nothing like water. Painted in deep reds and gold, it was a far cry from the blackened blue waves of the ocean. The threads under Eren's bare feet were luxuriously soft and the dim lighting encouraged relaxation—a contrast to the bustle of activity just a few floors below. Despite being fully aware of where he was heading, and whom he was heading towards, Eren felt the tension in his shoulders beginning to seep away. He stifled a yawn against his wrist. As he opened his mouth Eren's tongue caught briefly against his skin and he cringed. More than sleep he'd like to bathe, even if only to rid himself of the day's insanity.

Despite his exhaustion, Eren couldn't help but gap at the adornments as they came into view. Urns with intricate carvings towered high above his head, their widths' equaling seven Erens. His hand rose carefully to trace the images… only to draw back with a growl. Around and around there were drawings of those things: huge, misshapen creatures that looked human, but never, ever could be. Eren's eyes danced, instinctually trying to find one that looked like the beasts his family had become, but his feet pulled him away. Eren resolutely glazed his vision over everything else. There was only the corridor, deep red, and the doors waiting for him at the end.

Those doors weren't so easy to ignore though. If the urns had been tall, the doors themselves were twice their height, heavy oak with knockers the size of small dogs. And like the urns, the doors had complex designs carved deeply into the wood; some so cavernous Eren could have laid his arm into the gap. Again he did his best not to look though, choosing instead to focus on the handles as the easiest way to get inside. Tilting backwards Eren was surprised to find that the handles weren't just large but also styled after a man's hard, serious face. Weird.

It was even weirder when the things began to speak.

"Well aren't you going to knock?" The one in front of him snapped, causing Eren to stumble backwards. He landed hard on his butt and the other knocker, far to the left, started cackling.

"Boy can't keep his feet!" It said, to which the first one rolled its marbled eyes.

"Not surprised. Not surprised at all. Rude little thing, isn't he? Doesn't even knock."

"Go ahead, rude boy. Knock for us." The second head lifted its ring up with its tongue. Eren shuddered when he saw sharp little teeth hiding behind those lips.

"Knock!" The first one screamed, cackling all the while. Eren began scooting backwards just as the second head joined in, their voices raising and echoing up to the ceiling. "Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Kn—"

"Do be quiet, won't you?"

Eren froze, a rabbit trembling under the gaze—the voice—of a fox. The knockers stilled as well, grumbling only slightly under their breath. Though silence descended on the corridor Eren could still feel that voice hovering in the air around them. Where before the temperature had been cool it now felt suffocating; a wool blanket tucked in on a summer's day. Eren struggled to get in a decent breath. When he did speak, he was horrified to find that his voice was little more than a whisper.

"You're Irwin." At least it hadn't come out as a question.

"My, my. Aren't you well informed..."

The voice sounded sincere, but Eren knew better. The tone was all encompassing, more powerful than anything he'd heard before, yet for all of that it was still familiar. That was the tone Hannes used to say, "Yeah, Eren. That's real terrible," before not quite rolling his eyes and drawing down a beer in three gulps. Or even worse: it was the sound of Liam down the street extending his hand, right before he swung with the other. Eren found himself madly scrambling back just as the voice said, "Let him in."

With a shared look the knockers pulled up, allowing the doors to swing inward.

"Well, Eren? Enter."

Eren dug his fingers into the carpet. His heels too.

"I said, come in."

Eren felt bands, invisible and taught, wrapping themselves around his ankles, thighs, and chest. They lifted him off the floor until he floated, a cardboard cutout of a boy. With a cry Eren made to tear at them only to find more bands emerging from nowhere to catch his wrists. They dragged his arms out and forced his palms up until he looked like a remarkably pliant sacrifice. His screams turned enraged until Eren felt the final band slapping itself across his mouth.

"Much better." Irwin's voice said. It sounded right beside his ear. "Come."

With that Eren was flying through the doors and down a hall identical to the one he'd just left. With a lurch that gripped his stomach he made a sharp left, two rights, and very nearly hit a dead end before taking another left at the last moment. Eren tried to continue struggling, but it was impossible. Even his eyes, when he desperately tried to shut them, were pried open by invisible fingers. He spent the rest of the journey with tears streaming down his cheeks and something lodged hard in his throat. It was only from the harsh wind of course. Nothing else.

Finally, just when Eren was convinced that he would vomit, band or no, a door snapped open and he was tossed—literally—over the threshold. Tumbling Eren landed on one shoulder, his chin scrapping across the carpet. It felt like he'd been burned and he latched onto that feeling, as well as all the others: his butt from where he'd landed, his shoulder, his chin, his hot cheeks, the soles of his feet from running and scrambling all day long. Eren pulled at the pain until he could twist it into something resembling courage.

"What the fuck was that?" He screamed, whipping around, only Eren's voice died at the company he was in.

There, standing by a laden desk with their hands folded primly, were five spirits Eren had not expected to see. Really, he hadn't expected to see anyone but Irwin. As it was, these five crowded the office in a way that felt claustrophobic rather than cozy. There were four men in all. One had short, dark brown hair and a build like a weightlifter. He stood slightly in front, leading, while the other four kept back near his shoulders.

The second closest was a blond, face impassive, while in contrast the other two men stared at Eren with equally animated expressions. One was outright sneering. It almost looked like he was chewing on his tongue. The other tilted forward onto his toes and, to Eren's disgust, sniffed him. Whatever he smelled though must have pleased him because the tinniest smile appeared.

The fifth spirit was a woman. Golden hair, kind face, a look that distinctly screamed pity. Eren reared at her assumptions and pushed himself to his feet.

"What," Eren began. "The FUCK is wrong with—"

"Such language."

Eren felt something slimy zipping across his lips. He clawed at his face but it felt like his mouth had disappeared completely. Gasping through his nose he looked up and finally noticed the figure seated behind the desk.

It wasn't entirely surprising that Eren had overlooked him. Even with five other people in the room, the desk itself was cluttered beyond belief. A hundred papers, pens, weights, bottles, gadgets, knick-knacks, and who knew what else made recognizing the desk as a desk nearly impossible. Behind the mountain of organized materials sat a man half covered by shadow. He leaned forward then and the light of the nearest lamp caught his face. Hard, chiseled, his blond hair cut so severely that all Eren could think was, 'military.' He wondered if spirits had participated in the war at all, if this guy knew how to disembowel him like Hannes said every good commander could do. Leaning forward even further, Irwin smiled. The answer was definitely 'yes.'

"Really, Eren." He said, standing. "Did you always have such a mouth on you? Or have you picked that up from… someone here?" Eren refused to flinch, trying desperately not to think of the Corporal, but the girl to his left cringed for him. Irwin noticed. Coming out from behind the desk he ran a hand along her neck while she squirmed beneath him.

"But now I'm the rude one," he said. "I should introduce myself properly. Irwin Smith, at your service. I'm the manager of this fine establishment. And these are my assistants—Petra." The girl swallowed. "Gunther, Erd." The two leaders inclined their heads, reluctantly. "Mike and Oluo." The man who'd sniffed him breathed deeply again, though this time there was no smile accompanying it. Oluo, either a hero or a fool, broke rank with a scoff and jogged to Petra's side. Irwin moved away indifferently as Oluo attempted to offer some kind of silent comfort. Petra only batted his hands away.

"Do excuse them," Irwin murmured. "They only speak if they're given permission. I do prefer a relaxed working environment." He shrugged, as if this was something everyone should strive to attain. "No loud noises. Nothing… unexpected. Like having a group of disgusting humans turn up on your property, devouring food that isn't theirs for the taking. It's rude, Eren. Shockingly rude. I was quite distraught you know. Can you really blame me if I felt that they deserved a proper punishment?" Eren tried desperately to unhinge his jaw and tell Irwin exactly what he blamed him for. He only succeeded in straining the muscles in his neck.

"They weren't the first I've turned of course, but I do believe they provided the best symbolism. Titans are hungry beings after all, and your family was disgustingly ravenous." Eren dug his hands into the flesh of his thighs. "Hungry for my food, for adventure… well, they certainly got that didn't they? Your father with his loud, uncultured mouth. Your mother's reliance on animalistic instinct. Even your 'sister', Eren. Little Mikasa. Come now, even you have to admit that I did her a favor, imbuing some bravery into that blood. Titans don't fear anything. She's a fighter now."

Irwin spread his hands in a gesture of peace. "What about you, Eren? Don't you want to be a fighter too? Someone courageous, capable of righting all these terrible wrongs." His voice sneered thickly over the words. "I'll let you in on a secret then. Power isn't about reckless, exaggerated action. It's control. And the little things, like this…" A flame sprang into Irwin's palm. Eyeing it, Eren thought he saw something resembling a face writhing amidst the blue core. Screaming. "See? Control. So what do you say, Eren? Prove to me that you can discuss this like a gentleman. I promise I'll listen, and it would make me very, very happy."

Irwin stepped forward slightly, out of the shadows that still clung to his desk, and Eren was given a terrifying glimpse of his height. Slowly, as if savoring the movement, he drew his hand through the air and Eren's speech was returned to him.

"You stupid, son-of-a—!"

"Now, really." Irwin caught Eren by the stomach as he lunged, easily throwing him backwards. Eren came back again, trying to get in a punch, but a gesture from Irwin had his hand slowing like it was wading through molasses. With another little twist Eren found his arm twisting behind his back and his knees buckling fast. He hit the carpet with a squawk.

And yet, at the last second, Eren had thought he'd caught a glimpse of the other five surging forward… only to be held back. Looking up he found that they weren't nearly as impassive as they'd originally seemed. Oluo was still next to Petra, but now they were both starring furiously his way. Gunther's hands had tightened into fists; Erd bounced in place. Mike was actively frowning.

Eren understood. The need was still there, to claw, rip, destroy the thing smiling down at him. To demand that Irwin take him to his family and, more importantly, change them back. But for all the anger shaking his limps, those five reminded Eren that fury hadn't gotten him very far. The Corporal, Connie, Sasha, Hanji, and Jean. They'd helped. His friends had gotten him here. Calmly. Practically.

In control.

Eren sucked in a breath. Right.

"What's wrong, Eren? Is that it? Do tell me if you're finished with your tantrum because—"

"I want a job," Eren interrupted. Everyone, assistants and Irwin alike, stilled. Eren grinned widely at the reaction.

"Give me a job." He demanded.

"Absolutely not." Irwin's voice had been cold before. Now it was positively arctic.

"Give me a job, please." Eren rolled the last word, enjoying how Irwin's jaw ticked. Behind him five sets of eyes were exchanging glances. Eren thought he saw Oluo giving him a quick thumbs up and he was about to return it, feeling cheeky and daring, when Irwin suddenly appeared an inch from his nose. Eren tried quickly to swallow his cry instead. He hadn't seen him move. Not at all. Just—one second Irwin was a good six feet away, and the next he wasn't. Eren could smell his breath easily now; something stale that was only partially covered by a mint hidden beneath his tongue. He could see it gleaming when Irwin spoke.

Eren opened his mouth to tell him to back the fuck up but found that his lips had disappeared again. Irwin smiled thinly. "I can do this all day, Eren. You deserve it after all. Such racket. Honestly, what makes you think I'd give you a job?" Irwin slid even closer until, bending, his nose brushed Eren's cheek. "Hmm? A stupid, greedy, self-centered little boy. Puny and hotheaded." Irwin pinched his thin arm before smacking the back of his head. Eren winched; gritted his teeth. "You're useless to me, boy. This is a high quality establishment after all. The spirits, they come here to replenish themselves. There's a certain level of excellence I'm expected to maintain. And you… you don't fit into that equation. So why, Eren? What made you think you'd be of use to me? Could it be that someone lied to you? Someone other than your precious Corporal?" His smile grew when Eren looked away. "Of course I saw your little tet-a-tet outside. But inside… well. There's more to keep track of in here. So who was the liar, Eren? C'mon. You can tell me…" His hand rose and once more Eren's voice returned.

"Give me a job!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH."

Five spirits jumped, one human flinched, and a man with a voice like steel disappeared again. Eren felt Irwin reappear behind him, both hands wrapped around his neck. His fingers were cold as they stroked along his skin and Eren trembled.

"Or maybe I will give you a job," he whispered. "The hardest, most brutal job I can think of. Perhaps something dealing with… water?" The fingers tightened in response to Eren's stiffening spine. "Yes. I think that will work out nicely, don't you? This is a bathhouse after all, but not all the water here is warm or fragrantly scented." Eren felt Irwin breathing against his hair. Shaking, he tried to pull away but there was simply nowhere to go. "There's a lake out back you see, a simple structure that holds the water we've discarded. You know the kind, Eren. Icy, dirty, thick enough to fill even your loud-mouth lungs. Now normally I'd never send a little boy to a place like that, but sometimes our guests lose things—coins, the occasional ring—and they wind up in that deposit. Why don't you be a dear and go look for me, hmm?"

Eren was shaking in earnest now. Not the slight tremble that had taken hold when Irwin had first appeared behind him, but a full-blown vibration that knocked his knees together. He couldn't think of anything but getting away, yet whatever it was, fear or magic, kept him rooted in place. Eren could hear a low buzzing and wondered, ridiculously, if Irwin kept bees in his office. It only occurred to him that he might be fainting when a gray sheen overlaid his vision. Everything blurred.

Everything, that is, except for the five assistants. Irwin was still curled against him and the tiny, still-working part of Eren's brain informed him that he wasn't looking up. He couldn't seem them. Petra and the others must have realized it too. She was the one who began it. Lifting her hand—just a little—she extended her pointer and middle fingers, twirling them around and around. With a nudge Oluo started up… then Mike… Gunther and Erd together. The five of them, silent and still except for their right hands moving: the sign for continuance. Keep going.

Say it again.

"I want a job," Eren croaked.

"No."

"…Yes."

"No!"

"I want a job…"

"… Very well."

Irwin sounded indifferent then, the words slipping easily from his lips, but Eren could feel his nails carving half-moons into his skin. He stepped away and Eren breathed again.

"Honestly. I can't believe I ever took such a ridiculous oath. Giving anyone a job who asked…" Irwin straightened his jacket, casting a disgusted look back at Eren. "Petra, draw up the paperwork, won't you? I have more important things to deal with." A paper sprung to life in Irwin's hand and he handed it to Petra. As they crossed paths Eren realized dumbly that he really couldn't feel his legs anymore. He hit the floor—for what? The hundredth time today?—and just let himself stay there.

Eren hardly noticed when Petra scurried over, nor when she hesitated, biting her lip in what might have been trepidation. He entirely missed her jogging back to Irwin, gesturing between the papers and her own, still lips. Eren only roused when he heard Irwin sigh, "Oh very well. If you insist."

That voice was always going to snag his attention, wasn't it? He'd hear it in his dreams.

Before he could think on it any more though Petra was once again beside him. This time she smiled and a soft voice came whispering out.

"Sorry." She cleared her throat. "Ah—it's been a while." As one they looked up at Irwin, but he was engrossed now in his own conversation. A small crystal suspended itself before him and he addressed it in clipped tones, only sparing the two of them an infrequent glare. Catching their look he gave a shark's grin and moved to the next room, still talking. His gait was languid, but Eren noted that his fists were still clenched.

"He's displeased," Petra said. With practice her voice proved soothing and Eren relaxed just a little. Behind her the other four nodded in agreement. They hadn't moved though; still mute. "Here, uh, Eren. You need to sign this. Quickly." She held out a paper covered in symbols Eren didn't recognize. There didn't appear to be paragraphs, or even sentences—at least not that he could read. The only variation lay in a blank line at the bottom, next to his own name in printed letters.

"I can't read this," he said. Were they even words?

"I know, I know. That's why he's allowing me to speak. The enchantment dictates that you understand what you're getting into…sort of at least." Petra gave him a once over. She nodded sharply. "But it looks like you already have a pretty good idea. Really," she inched forward on her knees, her whisper dropping even lower. "I should be encouraging you to run."

"No." Eren said. Here, in this office, that was the one thing he was sure of. "I won't."

"Yeah. I sort of figured." To his embarrassment Petra tweaked his cheek fondly. Behind her Oluo's jaw dropped. "If you really insist on staying—"

"He has my family!"

"I know, Eren." She put a finger to her lips and Eren quieted. "If you insist on staying, then having a job is the safest thing for you. Irwin can't hurt you… as much. Not if you're in his employ. The magic won't let him. But there are consequences." Her face twisted.

"Consequences?"

"Just sign. Do it now, or run before he comes back."

So Eren grabbed the pen she offered and slapped the paper down onto the rug. He signed his name, even though Mikasa's was the only one he could think of then and there. His hand shook and a small hole appeared next to the second 'e.' He wished he had another hand to hold.

"Eren Yeager," Petra murmured, taking the paper back. "That's a lovely name. I'm sorry you have to lose it."

"Lose—? What?"

But at that moment Erd began waving frantically, gesturing towards the side room. Irwin was returning. Equally anxious Petra grabbed hold of Eren's shirt and tugged him forward, pressing her lips against his ear. Despite the rough treatment and a gesture reminiscent of what Irwin had done, Eren felt no threat from Petra. His instincts were confirmed when she said:

"The Corporal. Tell him we're loyal. Always."

Eren nodded once against her hair just as Irwin strolled back into the room.

"My, my. It is difficult to find trusted workers. Isn't there a human saying for that, Eren? 'If you want something done well, do it yourself'? Though of course, you're in my employ now, aren't you? Will you do things well for me?" He looked down at the two of them on the floor and Eren didn't bother answering. "I suppose we'll see. Petra? I take it everything is in order?" Irwin's eyes flicked over to Erd and it was clear that he knew everything that had gone on during his absence. What was worse what that he obviously didn't care.

"Yes, sir." Petra said. "Here's his—"

"Yes, yes, very good. No need to blab about it, dear." With a lazy gesture Petra's voice was gone once more. The guys behind her, obviously angry, nevertheless lined back up as she came to join them. The five returned to their almost statuesque existence.

Irwin signaled for Eren to rise, which he did obediently, wary of whatever 'consequences' Petra had been speaking of. Irwin only smiled.

"Are you pleased now that you've finally gotten your job?"

Silence.

"Feeling victorious?"

Silence.

"Oh come now, Eren." Silence again—just to spite him. "Very well then. Hmm. Eren. Eren, Eren, Eren. It is a fine name isn't it? I'm quite glad it's mine now."

"What…?" But to Eren's horror Irwin took his contract and literally lifted his name off the page. The words rose high before seeping into the skin of his palm. He didn't understand it, certainly couldn't explain it, but watching his name become a part of that monster sickened Eren like nothing else so far. Really, if he'd had time to think it over it would have been obvious. He'd lost everything this day: a mom, a dad, a sister, access to his world, and a confidence of what was possible in it. He'd even lost his shoes. Eren couldn't, wouldn't lose his name too.

"Hey!" Eren surged forward. "Hey, hey, hey, you fucker! Give that back—!"

Irwin sighed. "And here we go again. Honestly, your moods are a mercurial as the sea you fear. Although…" He held up the contract, shaking it slightly. "You will need a new name, won't you, now that I own yours. Something for the boy with the rude, shifting temperament. Ha! That's it then. Shifter. Yes… do you like that? You'll be Shifter from now on, boy. Not the most creative name, I'll give you that, but like I said before, your family has a talent for encouraging the obvious, the most basic. The vulgar become literal monsters, their son announces his faults. I quite like it. Ah—Corporal. So glad you could join us."

"You called for me, sir?"

Eren halted in his charge, whirling towards the door. There. He was here. Corporal. Despite it all Eren felt a heat rising up in his chest. A wonderful heat that drove out the cold that Irwin had infused in his bones. Eren wasn't the only one either. The five to his left stood a little taller in the Corporal's presence. All of them appeared to glow.

"Corporal, would you be so kind as to escort my new employee downstairs? I'm done with him. For now."

"Of course, sir." The Corporal turned his way. "Well? What's your name, kid?"

Hearing the Corporal call him 'kid' was almost a relief… until he realized exactly what he'd been asked.

"Oh. It's…" Something. Something important… right? His mother had given it to him. And his father yelled it when he was frustrated. He'd whispered it to Mikasa right before they were pulled beneath the waves. Of course it was important, it was his name. But for all that he just couldn't form the syllables. They were lost, flitting across his tongue before they could fully be formed. With a swallow that felt like defeat he finally ground out, "Shifter."

"Got it. C'mon then, Shifter. I haven't got all day."

So he went forward, not out of obedience, but through an equal desire to move away from Irwin and toward one of his few friends here. After all, the Corporal had kept him safe so far. And they were together again. It was like his mom used to say, the night had to get completely dark before you could see the dawn. This was it then. This was his dawn, and it was walking ahead with two swords strapped at its sides.

The Corporal marched and Eren blindly followed.