CHAPTER TWO

Eren found himself flipped cleanly over onto his back. A part of training he didn't quite understand the need for was one on one combat against fellow humans. Reiner Braun possessed a physical strength he doubted would be matched by anyone other than Armin. The thought baffled him sometimes; how strong was Armin? He'd seen his friend lift a roof off his mother, and a scouting party travelling the wall's edge had discovered the hole in Wall Maria plugged, with no official explanation how. He'd asked, and Armin admitted the deed. The titan population in Wall Rose had declined considerably in the past year or so, as the Scouting Regiment made their kills. Armin had also admitted to killing titans at night, though, at his friend's insistence, he'd cut down on it to avoid attention.

"I don't understand how this is important," Eren said out loud, switching positions with Reiner. "Why do we need to learn to fight against other humans? The titans are our enemy."

"You never know when you're going to encounter thieves in the real world," Reiner replied. "Besides, it might come in handy."

Reiner charged and Eren dodged and countered, exactly as had been done to him. Reiner pointed at Annie. "There's someone who's a natural," he said.

Eren lowered his eyebrows. "She's slacking off without the commandant noticing."

A half-smile appeared on Reiner's face. "Let's show her the will of a real soldier," he goaded. His smile widened when he saw Eren take the bait.

Armin watched this unfold from the other side of the field, where he practiced with several different people. He saw Annie make short work of both Eren and Reiner. The technique that she used on both of them, pushing the attacking fist out of the way, pressing down on the shoulder slightly, then twisting behind them and sweeping their leg out, he'd never seen before. He approached. "Annie," he said, getting her attention, and breaking both Reiner and Eren out of their stupor. "Do you think you can teach me a few moves?"

Annie regarded Armin. His face didn't match his body at all. A quarter of the way between Eren and Reiner in height, and with a muscular build that indicated serious effort in strength-training, Armin Arlert looked like a statue from the neck down. When she looked at his face, however, he had a soft, modestly-rounded face that screamed cute baby or innocent bystander, not fierce warrior. Added to that was his chin-length bobbed hair, and he could easily be mistaken for a girl, face-wise. This had to be the oddest mishmash of traits she'd ever seen on a guy.

"I guess," she said, coldly, adopting a boxing stance. "Charge at me."

He adopted a stance and dashed forward, barehanded, going for a punch. She ducked beneath his strike, grabbed his right arm, and used his momentum to flip him over her, onto his back. As he lay on the ground, she placed a fist on his throat. "Hip toss," she said, standing back. "Great on enemies that are moving towards you. Uses their momentum against them. Go for a kick." He stuck his foot straight out towards her abdomen. She grabbed his calf and heel and dropped inward, using her body weight and falling momentum to spin him over, onto his back. "Great. Go for a punch to my face." He did, and she ducked beneath his right punch, draped an arm around his left shoulder, locked in her other hand, and swept his right leg out, throwing him forward to the ground. "Now, are you getting it?"

He stood up, slowly. "Yeah," he said, brushing himself off. "I'm definitely getting it."

She nodded and began walking away. "So, now you know what to do should you become military police and someone attacks you," she said.

Armin tilted his head slightly. "You seem a bit…angry," he replied.

She turned around. "None of this matters," she retorted. "Don't you see? The better you are at killing titans, the farther you can get from them."

"Yeah, I noticed that," Armin said, suspicious now that he put thought into something that he'd noticed only in passing.

They trained for slightly longer before Armin realized he was preoccupied with what Annie had said. He'd noticed that only the best titan killers were considered for military police duty, but that made no sense. After a few more minutes of training, he left the field and Eren followed him.

"Hey, what was Annie talking about?" Eren asked.

Armin sat down on a log. "It's odd," he replied. "They measure how good we are at fighting titans, and tell the best of the bunch they can live far away from them."

Eren took a seat, the question weighing on his mind. "Yeah, I suppose…" He had an automatic response ready, but when he stopped to think about it, the tactic made no sense whatsoever. "You know, that is the oddest thing. Why would they do that?"

"I don't know," Armin added, "but I don't think it makes a lot of sense."

Eren watched the trainees continue sparring. Sasha and Connie got reprimanded for acting like fools, and Jean and his partner weren't taking it seriously at all. "I want to get better at it, even if it means this nonsense." He saw Reiner and Bertolt heading off the training field and towards the barracks.

"I just want this training over with," Armin argued.

Eren chuckled. "There was a time where I honestly expected I'd be the one helping you," he said. "Look at you."

Armin sighed. "Eren, secrets be damned," he said, turning to look at his friend. The dark-haired boy, normally motivated by anger, sat almost in awe of his friend's expression of stoic declaration. "I'm not letting the titans get you."

"Armin…" Eren began, trailing off. After having told his friend time and again that the secret of his incredible power must be kept secret until the world was ready for it, he realized at once he'd been acting as a parent. His concern for his friend had demonstrated a lack of trust, he felt, and Armin's assurance of protection reminded him that, at the end, the boy had to deal with the powers he possessed, and nothing could spare him his responsibility. The thought occurred to him of all the nights Armin must have tried to sleep, knowing the threat could be dealt with so easily, if only he could openly fight the enemy. "Look, I'm not going to be so easy to kill." He smiled, his smile drew a similar expression out of his friend.

The commanding officer called for a cessation of the disarming and physical combat exercises, and the trainees headed off to the barracks for lunch. They filed into the barracks after receiving their rations for the afternoon and sat to eat. Mikasa and Eren sat near Armin, at a far table in the center near the back. Armin scanned the room. He caught Reiner looking at him. Bertolt was saying something to him, and when he saw Armin glance at him, he quickly turned away. Reiner then made what Armin knew to be a deliberate attempt not to look at him. Noticing that nobody sat too close to either of them, and their lips were moving, ever so slightly, he looked down at his plate, scraped his fork over the food, and ate. While putting on the show of ignoring them, he opened up his hearing powers, and tuned the explosive blast of sound in his ears down to the whispered conversation of the two.

"That Arlert bothers me," Reiner said. "You pay attention to him at all?"

"No," Bertolt replied. "What do you mean?"

"He doesn't seem…worried…like everyone else is."

Bertolt let a quiet breath out his nose. Armin took that to be a sign of not understanding. "Ok."

"No," Reiner clarified, "what I mean, is, next training exercise, I want you to train with him. Even that Yeager kid, as suicidal and eager as he is, always has a look of concern. I can just feel that he knows he can die at any moment. Arlert, seems, I don't know, detached."

"So," Bertolt asked, "he doesn't understand how dangerous the titans are?"

"That can't be it," Reiner countered. "He bragged openly about killing a titan. In front of trainees. And the way he said it means he's either the best liar I've ever seen in my life, or he's telling the truth."

A faint click only Armin could hear told him Bertolt had clenched his teeth inside his closed mouth. "That means he at least believes he's not as killable as everyone else," Bertolt understood. "You think he's a titan shifter?"

A jolt of fear ran through Armin's body. Only by valiant effort did he not drop his fork into his food. He closed his eyes a moment and stilled his breathing. What was a 'titan shifter?' Still, he did nothing and waited for the conversation to continue. If they had crucial information to reveal, he wanted to hear it.

"I'm not sure, but either way, get a feel for him and tell me later what you think," Reiner instructed.

Armin swore mentally. He guessed correctly that the two had become concerned he somehow had the ability to listen to them and they'd cut their conversation short because of it. He would have to work on his espionage skills.

His thoughts were cut short as he noticed Eren stared angrily at Jean. Jean seemed to be bragging, in the form of giving tips to those seated near him about how to properly use the maneuver gear's gas.

"What gives you the right to talk down to me?" Armin heard the fevered cry of Jean and rolled his eyes. Eren stormed forward like a man possessed. His purpose and need bled through to the furrow of his brow and the clench of his teeth.

"I'm not a lazy coward like you who doesn't want to accept his responsibility!" Eren shouted.

They grabbed each other's collars. Armin attempted to interject some reason into the showdown. "Now, come on, we're all in this together," he stated.

"No!" They both stood shocked at Eren's declaration. "I'm tired of this guy acting like it's ok that he just walks away from his duty!"

"I'm sick of you!" Jean cried, tightening his grip on Eren's shirt. "You think you're above everyone else." They pulled each other closer, to the point that Armin prepared for them to knock foreheads.

"Alright, that's enough," Armin said. He placed his hands on their breastbone and physically pushed them apart. "I'm not about to have a fistfight when we have an enemy willing to eat us alive."

Eren felt his firmly planted feet sliding backward, the rubber making a quiet squeal. Anger departed him in seconds; he found himself in awe and fear at the same time. When his bob-haired friend had pulled the roof off Carla Yeager, and a lot of times cutting wood, he'd seen the ridiculous, impossible strength. Now, for the first time, he felt it. The tensed calves and thighs of his legs, his body weight, none of it mattered. His friend moved him as effortlessly as sliding a light wooden chair. In front of him he felt a barrier of solid concrete in the form of Armin's hand. For the first time in his life, he looked in the eyes of his ally, and saw what the words had meant. "It doesn't count if the titans can't hurt me," Armin had said.

Jean almost forgot what he was in the middle of thinking when he slid backwards. Armin's effortless push broke the stupor of his anger. He stared at the boy with amazement. "What, what are you?" He asked.

"Someone who doesn't want to have to do what I have to do," Armin replied. He stood in front of Eren. "Look, Jean, I get your feelings. I do. You're a realist. You know how many here are likely to die."

Eren's protest came at once. "Armin…!"

Armin silenced him with a single wave of his hand, without even breaking eye contact. "The difference is," he clarified, "I don't have the luxury of being able to sleep soundly knowing I didn't do what was needed of me when it was needed. You can. I'm honestly not being sarcastic when I say that I envy you for that."

Jean's grit teeth returned for a moment. Then, as the words sank in, he huffed. "You think you're so much better than me?"

Armin blinked in place of a head shake. "No, Jean, when it comes down to it, I'm not," he admitted. "I honestly wish that fighting the titans was some kind of errand I could put off. I find myself wanting to close my eyes and wake up, and find it a bad dream." He cleared his throat. "But, my friends are going to give their all. That means I have to as well."

Jean dropped his fighting stance and stood at ease. "That's all fine and dandy, but don't expect me to give my life just because your friend is a suicidal idiot," he chastised.

"I wouldn't force your decision," Armin said. "But do us all a favor, and if you plan on going into the military police, drop the bragging act."

The door slid open. "Alright!" Keith Shadis said, peering in. "Enough chit-chat! Time for the next round of training!"

Armin closed his eyes and opened them slowly. He tried to avoid glancing over at Bertolt, and he could tell both Reiner and he were trying to avoid glancing at him. He calmly walked out of the dining hall. Footsteps approached, and he could tell who it was.

"So, you want to train with me this time?" Bertolt said, slightly nervous. Armin couldn't tell if the nervousness was genuine or not.

"Sure," he said, faking positivity. He hadn't expected to become so suspicious of the two, but only an idiot would have the ability to listen in and not use it. Originally hoping their conversation didn't give him any reason to suspect them, now he had more than one mystery to unravel. Based on the way they spoke of him, they seemed to be analyzing the members of the Survey Corps. What was a titan shifter? Based on the words in the term, he suspected it was something to do with changing into a titan. That struck him as ludicrous, but then again, he had impossible features as well. He looked up at Bertolt, carrying a curious expression of negativity buried underneath his half-smile. "We have to get to know each other, right?"

Bertolt seemed to mentally flinch, and the subtlety of it told him scores about the taller man. "Y-Yeah," he said, stuttering slightly. Bertolt wondered for a moment if Armin had somehow heard him, but he dismissed it off-hand as impossible at the volume they were whispering, and the fact that the fair-haired boy had sat meters away.

Entering the field, they took up stances against one another. Bertolt took the fake knife in his right hand, held it by his side, and charged. The whole time, Armin could tell, despite the taller man's efforts to disguise his analytical gaze, the calculating sight set on him. He could tell the sizing-up had begun. He mentally smiled; if someone had hired these two as a spy, he would not disappoint that person.

Armin waited for his opponent to thrust the knife forward. He placed his right hand on Bertolt's hand, spun around, placed his left on his foe's chest, and swept the legs out, pushing him backwards. Bertolt landed on his back, staring up at his legs.

"Annie teach you that one?" he asked.

"Watched her do it to someone else," Armin replied.

Bertolt climbed to his feet and stood back. "Alright, now you be the attacker."

Armin held the knife by his side and charged. Bertolt did something unexpected; he dropped to his knees, pulled Armin's upper body down, and pushed his lower body up, flipping him vertically in the air, dropping his foe flat on his back.

Armin kipped up. "Reiner teach you that one?" he asked.

"Actually, he did," Bertolt replied. A chuckle escaped his lips. "He's a lot stronger than I am, so he does it a lot better than me." He coughed. "Can I ask a personal question?"

Armin turned around, trying not to betray his curiosity. "Go ahead."

Bertolt took a deep breath. "How did you kill a titan?"

Armin clenched his teeth discreetly. "Well," he said, after a moment to construct a believable lie, "it was a bit of luck, actually. The titan was heading towards a friend of mine, not paying attention to me. I climbed on the roof of a house, jumped off, and stabbed it in the neck."

Bertolt seemed to think for a moment, curious, and shrugged. "I guess it isn't that surprising," he said. "You seem awfully athletic."

"So," Armin said. "What's your story?"

The harsh breath that escaped told Armin much of what he wanted to know. "Out where I live, we didn't know about the breach as soon as the nearby villages," he explained. "I heard what I thought was thunder for a few days beforehand." He gave a harsh look. "By the time we found out, it was too late for most of them."

Armin bowed his head, respectfully. "I'm sorry."

Bertolt shook his head slightly. "No, don't worry about it," he said. "I just want to get back there. No grand ideas for me." He paid close attention to the fair-haired young man the whole time. What Reiner had told him seemed to be true; what he saw in the young man's eyes was the look of the weight of a huge task ahead. Nowhere did he see the unease of near-certain death he saw in everyone else, even in the boy's friends. Everyone else carried the look of knowing, of being sure death waited around the corner. No, Armin carried a look of obligation rather than the look of doom. It was the damnedest thing to him. He'd never seen that look before on someone's face.

"I just want these damn titans to go away," Armin said. "Everything would be better if they were to just vanish." He chuckled a bit. "But yeah, wish in one hand, right?"

He drew a smile out of his taller friend. "Wouldn't that just be fine and dandy," Bertolt replied. He put the knife down. "Want to do the grappling exercise?"

Armin held out his hands, which locked with Bertolt's. The taller man leaned forward, attempting to leverage his height and weight advantage. He didn't want to easily overpower his foe and give it away, so he dropped to his back and used his legs to flip the man over him onto the ground. He turned over and pushed himself to his feet. "I figured that you'd try to use your height against me," he said, "so I improvised."

Bertolt laughed a moment, then wiped his face. "You're just something else," he said. "I can't fool you for a moment."

"Got to keep on top of things," Armin replied. "I have to be cleverer than the average person. People like Levi and Erwin survived this long by being above average."

"That's true," Bertolt agreed.

They trained for about another hour or so, before moving on to practicing with securing their equipment before a mission. That evening, after dinner, they retired to bed. Armin lie in bed, listening to see if Reiner and Bertolt said anything else, but they didn't risk it in the quiet of the barracks. He closed his eyes and went to sleep. It took a few tries.

The next scene he saw, was in some kind of chamber. There was a light that shone out of a section of the ceiling above him, which hung less than a foot from his face. Before he knew it, the light turned into a square two feet on a side. A man's likeness appeared out of the light, pictured against a background. "Kar-El," the man, who Armin noted looked remarkably like him, said, "our world is dying. The once great planet Krypton is doomed. My name is Zor-El, and I am your father. Your uncle, Jor, and myself, have been spending much of the last six months our planet has left, preparing the ship by which we intend to save your life."

"Your new world is a planet with a younger sun, which will grant you powers the likes of which will serve you in your mission. You see, Kar-El, your cousin Kal-El will be sent to the Earth with you, and together with him, you will have to lead the humans."

Zor-El coughed and turned the view to outside the building he stood in. "Unfortunately, neither I nor your uncle Jor-El will be able to make the journey with you," he said. "The humans will look like you, but you will be able to do things they could only dream of. As such, I'm trusting their future into yours and Kal-El's hands. Jor-El and myself had a lengthy discussion, and we're sending you first. My son, I know I'm forcing a task on you I cannot rightly ask you to do, but these humans will surely be able to achieve their highest potential if you are there to lead them."

Zor-El approached the camera. He held up a necklace, with a stylized 'S' in a shield shape. "This, is the symbol of the House of El," he explained. "By the time you hear these words, I will be long dead. I love you more than you can imagine. My consciousness will be with you in the computer of your ship." The next thing he saw was the view changing to the exterior of the chamber. The Earth was rapidly approaching in view, surrounded by a sea of darkness dotted with stars.

"Father!"

"Armin, wake up!"

Armin shot up to a seated position, almost as if he were stung by a wasp. He looked at Eren, who was holding his shoulder, nervously. "Eren, was that a dream?"

Eren touched Armin's cheek. "Are you ok?" A thought came to him. "What was that word?"

Armin furrowed his brow. "What word?"

"You just said some word in a language I've never heard before," Eren explained.

"Oh," Armin replied, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry if I scared you." Eren sat back. "You won't believe this, Eren. Let's talk outside." He practically leapt out of bed. Pulling his white pants over his boxers, he stretched, then reached for his shirt and jacket. His boots were the last to go on.

Outside the barracks, Eren came up to him when they stood away from the rest of the crowd. The sky overhead looked prepared to rain. "So," Eren asked, "what were you going to tell me?"

As the drizzle turned to a downpour, Keith Shadis had a table set up with a pack and a poncho for each person. Armin told Eren everything he'd seen in the dream as they walked to the table. Eren walked in almost complete silence. He huffed with effort as he lugged the pack onto his back. Armin donned his poncho and hoisted the pack effortlessly onto his back. "So, what do you think?" Keith gave the order to march into the forest, and they proceeded.

Eren swallowed, trying to construct a thought as he marched on. "So, let me get this straight," he uttered, somewhat quietly, "there are worlds beyond this Earth? And you're from one of them?"

"If this is real," Armin said. "I'm not sure either way, but if this is true, that would explain my abilities."

A slight giggle escaped Eren. "And I thought the titans were the strangest thing," he admitted. "If you're from another world, that changes everything. I can't even imagine the implications."

Keith Shadis wasn't the only one watching Armin Arlert. Bertolt and Reiner were as well. "I trained with him," Bertolt explained, "just like you said. I got the feeling that, you're right. There's something off about him."

Reiner nodded along with his partner's whisper. "I think we need to keep watching him."

From atop his horse, Keith looked at each of the cadets and mentally gave his judgment of them. When he got to Armin, he gave him a prolonged stare. The boy was hard to place. "His performance is exceptional—possibly the best I've ever seen," Keith thought, "in terms of physicality, but he's got the look of someone dreading a stubborn chore." Armin had the look of someone aloof and frustrated, rather than everyone else's deadly seriousness or joking denial of reality. At the same time, he saw what most could not—the eagerness to move forward. The titans seemed to the boy, based on his manner, something holding him back from moving even further forward. "What are you, Armin Arlert?"

After a long march, they came to a setup in the middle of the forest, where giant wooden people, with a cushion on the nape where the vital point would be. "Alright!" Keith shouted. "The rain's letting up, so I think now's a good time to practice with our maneuver gear." The group gathered in a circle, and pulled out their backpacks. Each person slipped their belts on and snapped the clasps together. Armin fastened his belt and adjusted his gas canister. He'd practiced earlier, but now would be a better chance to do so. He had to figure out the optimal way to disguise his flight. What frustrated him the most was having to hide his powers as best he could. It struck him as odd. Others had to put in tremendous effort to excel at their task; his task of looking like the rest of them took deep concentration. What entitled him to such power? Why couldn't someone else be destined as he was? The thought exited him as soon as it came. His powers meant he probably wouldn't die.

Eren gave him a nod and took off with a leap and a burst of gas from the canister. The ropes dug into the tree and he zoomed forward headed for the first titan mockup. He noticed Mikasa had delivered a deep gash into the cushion. He propelled himself downward and took a chunk out, albeit a bit smaller. He chastised himself for not being as able as her.

Armin took off, using the gas as he needed. Hiding his flight proved more difficult than he expected. He might be new to training with his comrades, but the experts would doubtless be able to see flaws in his physics. He had to feel the direction and degree of force his equipment moved him in. It became a matter of supporting his actions with his power, rather than relying on them. Zooming through the trees, he took a huge chunk out of each of the titan mockups. He landed and unbuckled his equipment.

Keith Shadis found himself looking at Arlert with surprise. A number of the candidates impressed him, but this kid had given him a shock. When the kid had boasted, with his feminine looking face and girlish hair on full display, that he had taken out a titan, the drill instructor adopted a skepticism of religious proportions. The kid looked like a girl's head pasted on a man's body, and yet, despite every voice in Keith's head screaming that this guy would turn out to be a puff of hot air, he succeeded. And yet, as he half-grinned, something seemed off. Watching the kid in motion looked…too perfect. At first, the stumbling, odd flight patterns of inexperience showed themselves just like everyone else. After a few test runs, though, his trajectories seemed to improve, as if a magic wand were waved mid-motion. He would have sworn he saw the kid zoom forward, with no expulsion of gas to propel him. If he got a chance to see Commander Erwin again, he'd want them to see this kid.

Armin put his pack on and leaned against a tree. After hearing what Bertolt and Reiner had told him earlier, he checked his emotions. They'd considered him odd for feeling detached, for looking at the titans as a chore rather than a threat. The thought sank in for the first time, that they'd never seemed to him as big a problem after he discovered he could kill them almost effortlessly. His mind drifted back to how he felt back on the day of the fall of their hometown. Thoughts of confusion and bewilderment raced through his mind on that day, as he'd stared down what should have been certain death.

Now, he found himself wishing the ordeal to be over, the thoughts came to him that they were a nuisance rather than a horrifying brutality of nature. Guilt began to creep over him. If Eren or Mikasa were to be bitten by one of them, it would be instantly fatal. There would be no miracles, no surprises. For them, or anyone else, it would be the end. Only he, for now, was different. He forced himself to see it from their point of view. He had to feel serious. The thought came to him of what would happen if his friends died. The image made him shudder.

Mikasa approached him. "Armin, what's wrong?"

Her question made him smile a bit. "Oh, nothing," he lied. "I'm just jittery. Pretty soon, we're going to go up against actual titans."

"You're an amazing guy," she said, "but if there's one thing you're not, it's a good liar."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," he replied. "I'm worried." He looked at her sternly. "About me. Back when the wall was breached, I was as scared as everyone else. Now…" He trailed off. The look on her face told him he didn't have to finish. She touched his cheek and turned him to face her.

"Look," she chided. "You may not believe it, but that tells me you're not someone I have to worry about. Eren is all-in and ready to go all-out. Some of the others are scared shitless." She put her hands on his shoulders. "You have a unique position. You can do what absolutely no one else can do."

He cocked his head a bit to the left as he looked at her. "What?"

"You," she said, matter-of-factly, "can keep a level head." She pulled closer to him. "You have objectivity." She backed off. "So," She switched to a whisper, "what's this about other worlds?"

He leaned in. "So, Eren told you?" he asked. She nodded. "These dreams are too detailed, in my opinion, to be just dreams. I don't have the creativity to make this up."

She almost chuckled. "I can't even imagine there being other worlds out there," she admitted. "I mean, it isn't impossible, but what would it be like? I mean, beyond the sky?"

Armin closed his eyes a moment. "Apparently, the Earth is a huge ball going around the sun," he said, demonstrating the motion with his hands, "in a sea of blackness."

"A blackened sea?" she asked, trying to imagine it.

"No," Armin corrected. "Imagine a room, pitch black, except so big you can't see the walls even with the light from the sun."

The thought came to Mikasa. She saw the Earth as a tiny ball in a very large, dark room, with light from the sun shining on it. "Wow," she said. "If that's true, that's amazing. So much to think about."

"What gets me," he replied, "is what it means if it's true." They began the walk back to the barracks. "The man who looked like me, saying he was my father, said he was sending me here because the world we were on was dying."

Mikasa pondered the implications of what Armin said. "So, the trip would have taken so long," she ruminated out loud, "that you could have arrived much earlier or later."

"If this is true," he concurred, "that means I could have arrived here hundreds of years ago or later. I could have never met you or Eren."

"I'm still glad you're here, Armin," she said.

That night, Armin went to sleep and saw an image in his mind of the craft he'd come to Earth on, smashing through the ground. He saw memories of himself as a baby, crawling up through the hole made by the vehicle, crawling for what seemed like hours before being discovered by a man. How had he remembered such a thing? Then, as if struck by lightning, the pathway stuck in his mind. He could remember where it was. His eyes flew open and he sprung up in bed, almost gasping. A few murmurs stirred the silence and he waited for quiet breathing to become the dominant noise once again. He could see everything, so he waited until he could be sure no one was awake, and he floated down to the floor. He quickly put his shoes on and his clothes. Floating out the door, so as not to create a noise, he looked for where the sentries posted to keep watch were stationed, and their direction of looking. Once out of sight, he took off into the air. The moonlight provided only a dim illumination, but he saw the area his target was in. A thirty-square-mile patch of land where he could clearly make out similar landmarks between his memories and his current location, was where he carefully scanned the ground. His eyes caught it.

With a ragged breath, he caught sight of a patch of land where a hole had been filled in. He descended and looked down, through the Earth, until he came across a metallic object, roughly oblong and somewhat pointed at the tip, buried a hundred feet down. Kneeling down, he buried both hands in the dirt and shoveled away at ridiculous speed. Finally, after a minute of digging, he came across the craft. He got a grip on two pointed pieces sticking out, and pulled upward, wrenching his muscles until the ground gave way and he flew upward, ripping the object from the dirt and rock.

Landing, he set the vehicle on the ground next to him. The machinery, silent at first, began to glow on a particular spot on the upper curvature. Stepping closer, the beam of light concentrated on his eyes and he found himself somehow pulled out of his thoughts and into a strange scene. The world of his dreams had come to life around him. He stood in a stone and metal structure, a large dome ceiling overhead. His eyes travelled the entire surface of the building, drawing awe out of him as he saw architecture he'd never seen before. Below the ceiling stood a doorway, revealing out into the blood red sky beyond. His mouth hung slightly open in disbelief.

"Kar-El," a voice cried out.

Armin turned around, seeing a man striking in his similar appearance, wearing a multi-colored set of robes unlike anything seen before. "Who…" Armin began.

"I am your father, Zor-El," he replied. "I've been waiting for this moment for quite some time."

Armin's eyes widened. He swallowed as he approached. "I thought you were dead," he said.

Zor-El shook his head. "I am," he corrected the boy, "but my thoughts and memories are in this vessel. I placed my mind in this in order to be of guidance to you."

Armin ran his hands through his hair, nervously. "I…I need to know," he stammered, "I have so many questions."

Zor-El clasped his hands behind his back and paced forward. "Your—our—home, is the planet Krypton. Sadly, we discovered our world's doom far too late to save everyone. A select few ships scattered to the stars, but for the vast majority of us, including your mother and my brother's family, our world's destruction was the end." He looked intently at Armin. "Jor-El and myself worked tirelessly to save our only children."

"Father," Armin said, not entirely used to the word, "tell me. What do you think I should do?"

Zor-El's face grew solemn. "I do not have all the answers," he replied. "Their weapons of war and engines of destruction are barbaric, their practices primitive and beliefs antiquated. But I think even you have seen their capacity for good." He drew back his breastplate, showing the symbol on his suit. "This symbol, this is the symbol of our family. The House of El. It is a symbol of hope. It is meant to be a beacon in the dark. You must be facing feelings of trepidation," a tear came to his eye, "the likes of which I can't imagine. These humans will stumble. They will fall." He put a hand on Armin's shoulder. "In time, they will join you in the sun."

Armin shook his head. "How can you say that?" He argued. "The titans are too much for them to handle. How can even I prevent them from going extinct?"

Zor-El stepped closer, a foot between himself and his son. "Kar-El," he said, sternly. "You must not assume what you see is the truth. I may not have all the answers, but I know this much: what you see, is not the whole truth."

Armin squinted in suspicion. "You mean, the walls aren't all that's left?"

Zor-El almost laughed. "If you look at the big picture," he advised, "perhaps you'll see everything."

Armin took a deep breath. His suspicions had been piqued by Reiner and Bertolt's use of the phrase "titan shifter," but his father put the issue to rest. His mind had been made up. He would assist the humans wholeheartedly and would not settle for what appeared to be true. He would find out what was true himself. "Thank you, father," he said. "I'm not going to quit. I'll try to be the best I can."

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