The first rays of Sun landed shyly on girl's face. Caressing her face and gently tickling her eyes they woke her from sleep. Young dawn showed herself in all her beauty, her fresh air filled the girl's lungs and cleansed her mind of the nightmares she dreamt in dark, her lights dispelled the colors of the night, her breeze gently touched every needle on a pine tree, every little branch and every small flower, letting their swinging create a silent song, the song of dawn. A scent of early morning dew, of chamomile and immortelle mixed with a scent of freshly baked bread, goat milk and dry fennel seeds filled the room. It smelled like home, like childhood and early spring. Captured by the simple magic, the girl left the warmth of her bed. As she stepped on a wooden floor with her bare feet, she at last became aware of herself. The wood beneath her was cold but even that did not feel unpleasant. Small windows and wooden walls, large table near the fireplace, two seats for the two of them, many small carpets whose red and white threads of wool created beautiful ornaments – all was well, all was as it should be.
Still feeling the slight chill, she took her scarf and wrapped it around her shoulders as if it was a shawl. The feeling of soft fabric in her hands brought back memories of the first time she wore it. Its warmth still comforted her as it did back then, its soft fabric on her shoulders felt like arms of the one she loved. The one she was able to keep safe despite all odds, the one who is now keeping her safe, warming her, embracing and loving her. For a moment she was lost in time, how long has it been since the titans went extinct? She couldn't remember, her memory was so foggy it felt as if the time before they moved in a small cabin didn't even exist. Those distant memories, so inconsistent and dim, belonged to a different girl. A girl she didn't have to be anymore.
A soft smile appeared on her face as peace filled her heart. There, in a small cabin, a young woman was happy.
Sitting at the table, cup of warm milk in her hands, she finally closed her eyes. All was well. The embroidery on her nightgown was beautiful, she loved sewing it, her hair was long, she didn't need to cut it anymore, her home was beautiful, they decorated it together, he is everything she dreamt about, and he loves her back. All is well, all is almost magical. He'll come home from hunting and they will cook together, she'll tend the garden and he'll feed the goats. And when the night falls they'll sit next to the fireplace and read or sew. Just like any other day, like any other quiet magical day. If only the days to come would be nothing different than that. A sweet life, serene and quiet one, filled with love, shared with him. And soon he'll be back home, soon he'll come back from hunt, soon Eren will come back from hunt…
As she opened her eyes, a familiar face appeared in front of her. Jean. What was he doing here? Wasn't he supposed to be a head of Paradisian military, serving in the capital, right under the Queen herself? This can't be a surprise visit – his eyes looked so sad – did the Queen or the Military send him? Was he just a messenger of bad news? Did something happen to Eren… Thousands of thoughts came to girl's mind until her senses, finally, fully recovered. Jean was here, as was she, and Eren was somewhere far away, finishing the massacre he so desired. There is no small cabin in the woods, there is no fresh breakfast waiting for her, there are no flowers in her garden, there is no serene life with Eren. She felt an ache in her heart and resentment towards the man in front of her. She knew it was irrational, he had never wronged her in her life, she knew her feelings had no ground in rational thought but for a moment she wished for him to be gone. Even if it was nothing but a fantasy, why did he wake her from such a wonderful dream? Why didn't he let her sleep, let her continue the life of her wishes. Oh, how she wished she could sleep, sleep and dream. She wished she could only live in wonderful dream, in a blissful fantasy. She wished she would never wake up.
"Are you alright?" Jean asked, worry audible in his voice. As he looked at her, she could easily see tenderness in his eyes, a gentle glance with which he always looked at her. She smiled at him, her smile soft but her eyes full of sadness she couldn't hide.
"Yeah, I just… dreamt… a bit…"
"Was it a bad dream?" he asked, confused by her previous answer.
"No… it was actually very sweet," she said, averting her gaze from him, feeling slight shame in her heart. Dreaming of life with a murderer when sleeping and desiring such life when awake – it was an insult to all her comrades who betrayed everything for a chance to stop him, an insult for all the recruits she killed, it was an insult to the world Eren is destroying. "It's just," her voice softened as she continued, "it felt so real. I've never dreamt such a thing, but now, it really felt like I lived somewhere else for a long, long time…"
"I am sorry for waking you up then," he said as he shifted his gaze from her. He couldn't stand looking at her. Ever since Eren left them in Marley, she's been different, quieter and more insecure. She ate less and trained more. He knew she wanted to appear strong but her face would betray the feelings of worry she felt each time they talked about Eren, each time fishermen told her they didn't see any new boats on the open sea, each time Hange mentioned their trip to Marley… "Hange needs you," he said, "she said you should be the one watching Floch next."
Mikasa looked at him, confusion on her face unmistakable. "Why me, I almost killed him?" she asked, almost protested.
"Precisely because of that," Jean answered and before Mikasa could even voice her worries he continued, "don't ask me to validate Hange's logic because I think she's nuts. But just for explanation; she wants you to take care of Floch for a few hours just so she could sleep a bit. She also wants you to apologize to him, tell him you are the one who volunteered to take care of him because of the remorse you felt and to do it as sincerely as you possibly can."
"You think he'll buy it?"
"No." Jean's replied swiftly and surely. Hange is in the wrong. She has always been. The military needed a stronger leader, someone willing to sacrifice Historia's life, someone willing to feed Eren to a person more loyal to the Corps, someone willing to give up on Floch's life when the chance presented itself for the final time. But she waited, waited back then just like she is waiting now. Her wishes to negotiate with the world, wishes to talk to Eren and to make a deal with Floch, nothing good came of them. The decisions needed to be merciless – she should've let Historia get eaten, execute Eren the moment he stepped on the Paradisian soil, she should've…
Jean's eyes suddenly widened and his body stiffened. For a moment his brain froze. The feeling of intense coldness overwhelmed him yet the unbearable hotness colored his cheeks red. A desire to cry, to curse the life ahead of him and the fate which brought him here crushed the last hopeful part of his soul. The ironic truth he knew left a sour taste in his mouth, made him cry and laugh at the same time. Well, of course it was like that. It was that simple. He can still do the last thing, no need for Hange's orders. Kill Floch, it's not like he can fight back, return to Paradis and take all the time you need, convince Yeagerists you are no other than their leader, that should be easy as they have no reason to distrust you, and when your comrades finally come back give them full amnesty, who is going to stop you? Eren? – like he'll ever do such a thing to his friends. Historia? – she has no true power, at this point it is miracle the Yeagerists are even tolerating her. Floch? – he'll be rotting on the ocean bed with his throat slit by the one he thought of as a friend.
Jean's hands begun trembling, the idea of holding a knife soiled with Floch's blood terrified him. Why would he even think of such thing? Hange told him Floch is willing to spare them unless the masses demand their execution, a case in which, even if the ultimate power was given to him, he couldn't do anything different than to listen to chants of masses and give in to their demands. But would Floch really stay true to his word or will he execute each and every one of them as an example. Floch is a cunning bastard, a lying prick capable of playing a part, who's to say he isn't lying to Hange, tugging on her heartstrings while waiting for her to take him back to the island? Isn't it better to kill him now and save the rest. Besides, he has already killed so many, what would it mean to take one more life – he even told Mikasa the same, why be a hypocrite... And then he remembered how it felt – the warmth of Floch's blood, the coldness of sweat dripping from his forehead, the weight of his body in his arms as he carried him – his head leaning on Jean's chest, his blood still dripping on the floor. The pain in his heart became almost insufferable. How could he ever bring himself to kill him, to slit the throat of a man he, despite everything that happened – betrayed trust and broken oaths – felt nothing but a brotherly love for?
Not wanting to dwell on the thought any longer he averted his gaze back to Mikasa. She didn't look at him. Good. He couldn't answer her for why he looks so distraught at the moment. Looking at her, as if was his first time seeing her, he couldn't but stare at her cheek. A scar on her face, given to her by Eren – though that was unintentional – or so he hoped, looked even more painful now. Back when her hair was longer at least it could be hidden under the raven strands, but now it was as visible as the day. The idea of causing even more harm to that woman hurt him even more greatly – to put her in harm's way, even unintentionally, how could he ever live with that? So, if her safety would be guaranteed by one kill – isn't it his moral obligation to commit it? Besides, it's not just her. Armin and Connie – his dear friends, Reiner who he still cared for, wounded Captain and stupid Commander, innocent men and women who just wanted to protect Eldia and help their own homelands, children – the young ones who have an entire life ahead – aren't their lives more precious than Floch's? No, he can't. Human lives aren't something to be traded – all are equal, all are precious. So, shouldn't he save more of them? But it doesn't guarantee anything – saving Floch might just be the one thing to guarantee their survival, he is a great public speaker – if there is one person capable of convincing the masses it's him, but again, what if he doesn't keep his word? Yet if Jean does kill him and masses object to their amnesty – what then? He'll still have no power to stop them…
"Are you alright?"
Woman's voice was so warm and clear, yet it took Jean several minutes to process it. Caught in the tangled mess of his own thoughts, he was happy to be pulled back to reality. For the first time he felt the reality to be preferable to imagination.
"Yeah," he said unconvincingly, his voice shaken, his eyes avoiding girl's glaze.
"What is it, Jean?" she insisted as she sat on the bed next to him.
In such proximity, so near her, it was hard to lie, hard to hide his feelings.
"I am worried about flying," he said, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible, though he was sure she heard it crack.
"Flying?"
"Yes. Hange changed the plan. In less than an hour we should sail onto that island she was talking about. Instead of rowing to Paradis like it was originally suggested, we'll have to wait till Falco wakes up and then I'll fly on him to the island. It'll be much faster and therefore more convincing. When I finally arrive and if everything goes as planned, I'll make a radio call to you."
"That sounds like a good plan."
"I agree. The faster I get to Paradis the more believable the story seems. Still, I am worried about Falco's flying abilities."
"It's going to be fine – he managed to transform about two days after his first transformation – he should do good."
"I doubt no one is going to notice titan-sized bird landing on Paradis," he paused for a bit and then continued, "Also, Onyankopon predicted the flight will take about four hours – it's not too long but I insisted on taking Annie with us. If anything happens to Falco, her titan can swim and carry us."
"Wouldn't Pieck's titan be more useful?"
"It would. But Hange said she already told Floch about how her plan involved Cart – if Floch doesn't see Pieck among you when you arrive, he might get suspicious."
"Didn't he also see Female titan fight?"
"Yes, but our excuse is that Annie got killed during the port battle. He knows neither how Annie looks like nor that she is Female titan. Besides, it's not like anyone can deny Annie surviving the port battle – after all, we made sure there were no witnesses…"
Jean stopped. That was true, they killed every single one of them – it was a choice they made – no matter how many Yeagerists it needed to be killed it was worth it to save the innocent people of the world. But his friends aren't innocent – not a single one of them is. To kill Floch just to save the rest… is it worth it? They've done horrible things, things they could never atone for – and so did he. To sacrifice one murderer to save the rest – how could he ever justify that decision?
"I'll go check my equipment and then go to bed, I should get some sleep before tomorrow," he said, his voice as cold as ice. Mikasa stared at him, unable to say a word. There was something wrong with him, she knew that. But she also knew she couldn't help – not now, at least.
Cloaking herself with a simple blanket she left the room. The chillness of the autumn night made her shiver, her hair was ruffled by the night's wind. How different it was from the sweet dream she got to experience not a mere hour ago. Here, the sea was as dark as the skies above, its depth scaring her, there, the fields were wide and green, the sky as clear as the mountain stream. She wanted to lay down and dream again, dream of a wonderful life, of love that couldn't be judged and happiness she wanted to feel ever since that fateful day she met Eren. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. There is no time for any of that. Duty calls, she needs to do what is asked of her, after all, she couldn't think of any other way to save her friends – if an unpleasant encounter with Floch is all she needs to do, how could she even complain? With newly found encouragement, she continued walking through the deck until she found the doors of a small room. Without knocking she entered it. The atmosphere was calm and the room was surprisingly ventilated, unlike the first time she visited it. Commander was already fast asleep on the chair – it seemed she was so tired she couldn't even wait for Mikasa to come. On the couch, a young man laid asleep as well. His face hauntingly pale, creating illusion of early death when contrasted to the darkness of the night.
It's going to be alright – she knew it. The Commander did a great job and she earned her rest, now she'll take over. Do her part in a mission and soon they'll be back. A loud sound pierced the air – the boat just declared it is starting to slow down and soon it'll anchor itself on a small island. Jean will start flying next thing tomorrow – it will all turn out as fine as it possibly could.
On the other part of the ship, far from the small room, far from anyone's curious looks, two young men sat. The night was cold but it didn't seem to bother them. The wind played with their hair but they didn't even acknowledge it. In a gloomy mood and solemn silence both stared at the sea, neither willing to break the silence, until finally, the sound of ship's siren did the hard job for them.
"So, you are flying tomorrow?" Armin asked timidly.
"Yes," the taller man replied, his voice cold and emotionless.
"Are you sure you will be able to contact us with radio?"
"Yelena was able to make connection with the ships even further away."
"That's true," Armin admitted. He wanted to say something, anything – anything that would prolong the conversation, anything that would distract Jean from burdening him with a task he had already given him. The conversation ended and gave way to silence. Cold, dreadful silence. So long it made one wish their days were nothing but seconds, so soundless it made one wish for screams of pain. He couldn't take it – the anticipation, waiting for Jean to say what he knew needed to be said, each passing second multiplied the dread by a thousand. "So, why did you choose me?" he finally asked.
"You already said you didn't believe he should've lived," Jean replied, his voice emotionless, "besides, I can't really trust Hange is going to easily let anyone else approach him."
"Why don't you…"
"Why don't I do it myself? I would, but I am not sure I'll even survive my flight – if both of us are dead you guys won't be able to make it. That's for certain."
"I see."
"Don't do anything before I make contact with you – after that kill him by any means you can… I am the highest ranking one after Commander and Captain, consider this my order. Here," he said as he handed Armin a sharp but beautifully decorated object, "it's my knife. If you have a chance kill him with it. Then throw them both in the ocean. He is my friend, his blood is on my hands, you'll only what you've been told."
"Jean, I…" Armin started, but he couldn't continue. He needed to find a way to word his uneasiness, a way to make Jean reconsider his choices, a way to find a different solution, "Hange will protest – what if she…"
"Fight her if it comes to that, no matter what punishment she plans to give you, don't stop until you are sure he's dead."
Once again neither of them spoke, both trapped in their own thoughts. It needed to be done, they understood it perfectly. If they were to guarantee the lives of innocent engineers, children, Onyankopon, Captain Levi and Mikasa, if they were to stop any prosecution Annie might face if anyone on Paradis recognizes her, if they were to guarantee the safety of their friends and family, he needed to be gone, his existence forgotten, his contribution to Yeagerist cause should become just a legend, a folk tale to be told to the next generations.
In a dreadful night, Jean once again was all alone. The sound of cold night's wind absorbed the noise of Armin's footsteps. Finally, nobody else was there. Just him, the wind, the sea and the metal vehicle that sailed slowly. The night was cold, but he didn't want to cover – he deserved to shiver. He signed a death warrant to his friend, no matter the reason, he'll never forgive himself for doing it. It increases the chances of survival of his other friends, yes, but it didn't matter, not now. Memories of camaraderie, of drunk evenings they spent in the bar, of trainings and bickering, of nights full of terror and quiet days when Floch refused to say a word, of the final days and his friend's hand on his shoulder, his sweet words he so wanted to believe in, all resurfaced once again and without realization, tears started forming in Jean's eyes. His death won't guarantee anything, it would just increase the odds – is it really worth it? But could he live with an alternative, could he live after he witnesses Floch killing Mikasa and Armin? And, yet, even in that case, he knew he wouldn't hate Floch – no matter what happened he didn't think he could ever hate him, no matter how he wish he could. If he did, the decision would be so easy, he'd have no desire to save him despite all the logic telling him otherwise, no desire to at least visit him one final time, confess to him all his plans and beg for his forgiveness or at least for understanding. If only Floch was a normal man, a kind to value self-preservation over duty, if only they weren't on the opposing sides, if only the war didn't happen, if only they could at least meet in the next life…
There, in the darkness of the night, Jean Kirstein, Squad Leader of former Survey Corps, soon to be high ranking Yeagerist officer, cried sincerely, as if he was a child.
The morning came early, its colors soft and almost idyllic. The darkness was gone, and the last stars paled in the sky. The sea was calm, not a wave wrinkled its surface. There were no clouds in the sky but neither did the wind blow. A boat, anchored a few dozen meters from the shore, stood like an iron giant next to the small island, not disrupting the few birds that lived there with its gigantic size. Like the birds would ever mind the ship. Neither it nor the people on it were of any interest to them – aside from Paradis itself, the island was the only surface of the Earth not destroyed by the Rumbling – so why bother with ship, why bother with humans when they can continue what they have done their whole lives? Eat bugs, make nests – they are safe, their food resources will never run out. They are safe, the Rumbling passed them by, not touching a single meter of the island, not killing a single insect, not crushing a single blade of grass.
The silence of the night was interrupted the moment Falco woke up. Not even having time to adjust, the boy was surrounded by the hysterical mass. Being given the biggest meal he had in the past few weeks, he tried not to lose the focus on the words that were coming from Commander's mouth. But the hunger wasn't his only problem in regards of diverting his attention from Hange's instructions. Reiner's words of encouragement, Onyankopon pointing to the map, Jean and Pieck's worried remarks, Gabi's cries and the murmur from the crowd, mixed with his insufferable hunger and increasingly painful headache made listening to Commander practically impossible. He, however, knew that this time it all relied on him and as soon as that realization finally sunk in the boy decided to do whatever is asked of him. This time, he'll succeed. Finally, after an hour or two the boy finished his breakfast in peace, got ready and listened to all the instructions that were given to him. The test flight from and back to the island was successful, he was able to take off and land perfectly even with Jean and Annie on his back. All seemed well and they were ready to go. After a short farewell he, Jean and Annie took off. Soon becoming nothing but a small, black dot in the great blue vastness of the sky and then finally, completely disappearing from the horizon.
Armin looked at the sky, a melancholy fogging his blue eyes. Annie will be safer there, she won't be detained and possibly murdered like the rest of them. Yet, a selfish wish burdened his soul. Part of him desired to live with her, to spend the last remaining years both of them have left living a simple domestic life. He thought he'll never see her again, he thought she'll go back to Paradis while he fights Eren. And then it didn't happen. The plane was destroyed, the chance to get to Eren lost and they had to retreat. But the hours spent with Annie, despite all the pain they both were feeling, despite the tragedy and hopelessness, those hours felt good. The comfort they provided for each other, the words of hope and the warmth – he won't live a very long life but he'll remember each of those moments dearly. Standing on the deck once again, Armin felt a sting in his heart. His life will be short – he'll live nine more years if he is lucky, much less if justice is enforced. And Annie? She'll live even less, a year or two – three at most. There is no way to escape the curse, no way to cheat death. So, should he really do it, should he really listen to Jean? Reiner, Pieck and he himself have nothing but a few years left to live. To kill a man whose life could last longer than their lives combined just so they could live peacefully for a few years? And Mikasa? Like, Eren will ever let them touch her – she doesn't need his protection, no matter how the situation plays out, the Yeagerists wouldn't dare to harm her. And Connie, Gabi, Captain and Commander, all the Hizurian engineers and Onyankopon? Onyankopon already had his chance but he refused to submit, who says he isn't going to do the same now? The engineers – just like Floch said, Paradis needs them, they are the only ones capable of bringing new technologies to Eldia, if Yeagerists have any brains they'll let them live. Captain Levi – he didn't even fight, he isn't even capable of fighting in his current state. Gabi – Jean already saved her life when she killed Sasha, compared to that, finding herself with the wrong people shouldn't bring her many problems. Connie and Hange, what to do with them? Armin couldn't tell – they were the only ones with no excuses, no mitigating circumstances. They'll be killed, he thought. So, what to do? The burden of a crime he needed to commit weighted on his heart, crushed his soul. Feeling Jean's knife in his hands he stared at the horizon. Jean's order should come in next twelve hours.
In a small room, a man Armin was tasked to kill was laying on the couch. Unaware of the thoughts his comrades had, not suspecting their plans, he was occupied by the thoughts of his own. The reality he witnessed seemed so unreal. To think he managed to survive again, to think neither bullet nor the sharp peak of the hook would be able to take his life. Floch stretched his mouth in a sour smile, fate was a bitch and she clearly had a soft spot for torturing him. If only a small percent of his luck was given to any of his comrades from that day, he wouldn't have to be here listening to Hange's emotional speeches or Mikasa's poorly acted apologies. If only someone survived alongside him, or at least instead of him – that person would surely be more useful than he was, the damage to Eldia would've be minimal, who knows, maybe that person would've even been able to come up with a better plan then the one Eren did. Still, Floch thought as he closed his eyes, what's done is done. There is no reason for anger. Tears and curses can't change the facts. He survived, saved Eldia and he now gets to live in a new, peaceful world. No more battles, no more wars or military planning, no more life as he knew it. The thought terrified him. And what now? For the first time in months Floch felt the hollowness in his heart. What is he going to do – what else was there for him to do? His friends were dead, his comrades from Garrison days as well as the recruits he befriended in the last ten months, all small things in life that gave him joy, all the hobbies, he abandoned them all that fateful day. He was not the type to marry, he knew that for a long time. And he certainly isn't the type to enjoy hedonistic life, not a type who cares for expensive wines or dinners. So, what even is there for him to do? Should he dedicate his life to politics, lead the nation he so fiercely fought to defend? Perhaps, though there were more capable people for that position, he'll most likely be just a burden…
"How are you feeling today?" deep but feminine voice interrupted him. Turning his head in the direction of the sound he found himself facing Commander Hange. She looked different today, somehow happier, or at least calmer. Her tired eye looked at him with a sort of tenderness he didn't expect from the one he thought of as an enemy.
"Fine," he replied as shortly as he possibly could, neither wanting to make her repeat the question nor giving her a more satisfying answer.
"That's good to hear," she replied sincerely, paying no attention to his emotionless tone, "you look better, you know. How did you sleep?"
"Alright," he said, now slightly irritated, "I'd prefer if I wasn't watched by Mikasa the entire night."
"You know I always need someone to watch over you in case something happens. Besides, Mikasa is a good girl and she volunteered to…"
"Sure," he cut her abruptly. Floch closed his eyes trying to reduce his annoyance, at least a little bit. "Look Commander," he said, the irritation clearly audible in his voice. He wasn't even trying to hide it anymore, "I appreciate what You've done to me. At first, I thought You were doing all of this to save Your own skin. But now, considering You were the type to betray the island just to save our enemies, I am starting to believe saving enemy lives is something You simply like doing…"
"I don't think of you as an enemy, Floch," she interrupted him, her voice sincere and look in her eye painful. She was telling the truth. Despite everything, she loved the boy.
"It doesn't really mean much to me," Floch simply continued, his voice now completely lacking emotion "and it isn't the point. What I am saying is, that is You. Mikasa isn't like that. Everything she does is because of Eren. No, let me continue," he slowly raised his hand as if to stop Commander from interrupting him, "I am not lying when I say it. I am sure the sole reason she even teamed up with You is because she doesn't believe Eren is a monster…"
"Why do you think any of that?"
"I was tasked with recruiting people for the Yeagerist military. It was quite literally my job to observe others. And just in the last month the amount of whining about Eren's attack on Liberio I had heard from her…" he stopped to take a deep breath, "girl can't accept her prince charming isn't a nice guy she used to dream about…"
"What is the point of this?" Hange asked with a hint of annoyance present in her voice.
"What I am saying is that I think You should stop with this circus. I already told You, Commander, I am willing to spare your lives – you are much more useful to the island alive than dead. But please stop with those charades. There is no need for her apologizing to me, no need for any of that."
"Aren't you at least a little angry at her for trying to kill you?"
"Are You angry at me for trying to kill You back on the port?"
Hange closed her eye and lowered her head. There was truth in the boy's words. She remembered that battle and felt an ache in her heart. She killed so many – young recruits who just graduated, children she didn't even have time to command over – she killed them mercilessly just for a chance to save some unknown people, people who wished her nothing but death. She remembered how she fought with a boy who now so helplessly lies in front of her, how their swords collided and how her blade cut through the flesh on his cheek splashing hot blood on the rooftop.
"I am sorry for trying to do the same to you," she said quietly.
"No need for that," he replied, his voice still emotionless, but now, somehow more content, "we were simply on different sides of the war. If the fight wasn't over, I am sure we'd still be doing the same. No need to apologize for that."
"That's one good thing about this thing ending…" she tried to continue but was ultimately stopped by her own thoughts. The images of crushed bones, helpless elders and crying children, people devoured by the fire and their organs spilled on the ground, of burning houses and abandoned streets, images of pure terror flashed before her eyes. Images so real, she felt as if she was able to see them as clearly as she saw the boy in front of her. There was nothing good about the war ending, not in this way.
"Floch?" she asked, and only after the boy shifted his gaze towards her, she continued, "Do you ever feel guilt over this?"
"Over the Rumbling?" he asked nonchalantly.
She said nothing, yet the look in her eye told him he was right. "I am not a monster, You know," Floch replied, closed his eyes, and quietly continued, "I know what I've done is evil, no need to remind me. I accepted it long time ago. But it was the only thing that guarantees the safety of the island."
"Millions died, how…"
"Me feeling guilty over it is going to help no one. If there was another plan, perhaps I'd go with it. But there wasn't. I'll gladly accept any punishment life gives me for what I've done, if I am to spend the eternity in Hell, so be it, but at least I know I protected my people."
Hange looked at him, sadness mixed with tenderness present in her gaze. He was right and yet, he was so far gone. What kind of life does one have to lead to become so numb to death, what kind of hardships it takes to endure to see deaths of millions just as numbers? Perhaps, it's better this way – let him enjoy his victory, he is right, guilt will help no one. Now is better for him to live in his warped ideal, it's better if he believes he had no choice, it's better if he sees the victims just as numbers. For what would the opposite do? If he ever becomes aware of the severity of his crime, if he ever gets to feel for his victims, if he ever feels their presence when he thinks he's all alone – he won't be able to survive it. Such guilt would break anyone, crush their soul and suffocate them with its presence. It's better to just let him be.
"So, what are you planning to do now?" she said. Her voice quiet, yet there was a slight trace of hope in it.
"Politics, I assume," Floch closed his eyes and continued not caring for the woman next to him, "I'll have to see with Eren when he comes back – we haven't really discussed all the details of the new government. He doesn't want to rule, he made it pretty clear. Pity, he still needs to be a figurehead. Well, there's nothing we can do about it. The Yeagerists are popular with the people so I assume there aren't going to be any riots any time soon and the royal family will have its newest member in a matter of days, so, they are pretty secure as well. There are, however, some things I can't tell You until we come back to the island."
"What did you say about royal family? Isn't Historia expected to give birth later this year?"
"We lied, Commander. We needed to buy some time, it was a plan between her, Eren and me. I doubt other Yeagerists even know about it…"
"So, are you the father of Historia's child? Or is what she said about that farmer true?"
"Me? A father of Historia's child?" Floch spat out. His cheeks turned red and his eyes shone with mischievous light as he started laughing. She looked at him slightly confused but didn't say a thing. It was an unusual sight, she barely remembered when was the last time she saw him happy, let alone laughing. "Me? A future King of Eldia? Married to Historia? Oh, Commander be serious for a moment," he stopped laughing and continued, "No, I am not the father of her child but that is all I am going to say about this matter for now. I suggest we talk more about the government, less about love affairs."
"I think Queen's love affairs can influence politics greatly, don't you?"
"Not this one, that's for sure. Anyway, since we talked about ruling and command, You are still technically the Commander of the Survey Corps, aren't You."
"I doubt Survey Corps even exists now, but it's rather hard to forget my ex-title when you still address me by it."
"I don't consider myself Your subordinate, but it'd be weird if I called You by Your name. However, that's not an answer to my question. Are You still considered the Commander of the Survey Corps or have You passed Your title to someone else in those last few days?"
"I am still a Commander."
"Good," he said, "before we officially get rid of all military branches there is a ton of paperwork to do – I assume You know the most about it."
"I signed the most of those papers myself, of course I know."
"And military court cases, do You know anything about them?"
"Not really, Zackly was in charge of that."
"Zackly is dead, and so are Pixis and all higher ranking Military Police personnel. Realistically, there are only You, Captain and instructor Shadis left."
"It does sound bleak when you put it like that."
"I liked some of them too, Commander. Don't think poisoning them was an easy thing to do, but there was a great chance of them turning against Eren – we had to prevent it from happening."
"So you poisoned them just for a chance? Not even for something you were sure about?"
"If we hadn't, Eren might've been dead and Eldia in ruins. It was an uneasy choice, but I believe getting our hands dirty for a chance saved us all in the end."
"I see," she said quietly, "you know, you really are talkative today. That's a good sign."
"I'd rather listen to the sound of my voice than to Your complains."
Hange smiled a little, and then just gently said, "I'll bring you something to eat. I was busy this morning so I couldn't bring you breakfast, sorry about that."
"No need to bother," he simply replied but she had already left the room. There, in a small cabin on a ship, he was all alone. What now? He was surrounded by enemies, by people he was willing to kill just a few days ago and people who were willing to do the same to him. Yet now, despite all what happened, he secretly wished at least one of them was next to him. The hollowness in his heart felt suffocating and despite the blanket and warm clothes, he was cold. The same coldness that he felt when he was stuck in the ocean. But even then, he felt better – drunk on his ideal, desperate to do what needed to be done, he at least had something to live for. Now, what was even there for him to do? All the talks about politics were just a distraction – he isn't needed there. Yet, he so wished to be distracted, even if it was pointless, even if it was just for a while, he wanted to love life once again.
When Hange finally returned, she found the boy fast asleep. Putting the plate on the table, she sat next to him. His cheeks still pale and his hair slightly longer than she remembered. She'll offer to cut it when he wakes up. But now, maybe she should nap as well. Maybe, just for an hour or two.
She didn't know how long it's been but when she finally woke up the sky was already red, almost purple in color. The boy was already awake. Before any of them could say a thing, however, they were interrupted by Onyankopon running into the room.
"Commander Hange," he said, trying to catch his breath, "the radio. We got a message."
"Put it on speakers! I want everyone to hear it, not just those in command room!"
"Understood!" he said and yelled Hange's command to men on the other side of the ship.
Soon, a familiar voice, slightly cracked due to electrical current, echoed in every room on the ship.
"This is Jean Kirstein, second in command and temporary leader of Yeagerists, speaking. I repeat, this is Jean Kirstein, temporary leader of Yeagerists speaking. We know you are on the boat. I repeat, I know you are on the boat. Return to the island immediately and surrender without any conditions and you'll live. Again, return to the island and surrender and we are willing to spare your lives. Don't cause any more problems. Long live Queen Historia and Princess Ymir!"