See you Later, Eren Chapter 13

Title: The Power of the Titans

WOAH we just barely got it on Sunday. That is, if you live in North America. For my extracontinental viewers I must apologize for not getting this out on the weekend. I always shoot for Sunday, but living on the ol' American time zones makes it so that sometimes it will be too late for you before I post this.

Anyways... this is definitely too long. I'll give you guys my full thoughts in the ending authors note, so for now, I hope you enjoy the latest chapter of SYLE. Apologies for taking so long to come out with this, as work did indeed prove to be too much last week, and even now it's kicking my ass. I don't think it affected the quality of my fic, but I'd love to see your thoughts.

Also, as a result of not having that much time, my responses to my kind reviewers of Chapter 12 will come TOMORROW MORNING. This is a first, and I'm very sorry that I could not have responses written for the chapter's arrival, but I simply don't have the energy to write them up yet, and I was unable to respond to them as they came out, so you'll have to bear with me.

As always, please enjoy! -Y

Response to chugnchamp: Oh my gosh that means so much! Chapter 12 was a joy to write to I'm glad you appreciated it so much.

Response to The r3wr1t3r: Thank you so much for the review! I'm so pleased to hear that chapter 12 blew past you expectations like that, it truly made my day to read that. It's great to hear that I as able to develop and establish Annie's character well, as she will definitely be playing a big role in the rest of the story. Yes the fight did have Mikasa dominating for most of it, as I feel makes a lot of sense seeing as she has not only the element of surprise but also all that skill behind her. I loved writing Eren and Mikasa doing team combos during it, as I feel that was a big missed opportunity with the canon AoT story, and Annie, with her tactical skill, would inevitably catch on to the fact that Mikasa's one and only weakness is Eren. Thank you for your compliments on Eren's transformation! It was very interesting to write, to describe how Mikasa's hope finally crashes completely, only for her to gain a smidgen of it back once Eren shows that he's dead set on protecting her. I think you'll enjoy where I take the possibility of future Eren, as Mikasa, if she's learned nothing else from her experience in the last timeline, is that she should have reached out to him more, and we might see that bear fruit. And oh yeah, Eren and Mikasa fighting couple is so badass, both have such a desire to protect the other that they complement each other perfectly. I've read you review to this chapter, and I want to say that I absolutely loved it and will take what you've said to hopefully learn from it a little, but I won't address it here because it would contain spoiler for the chap, so I'll respond when chapter 14 rolls around next week!

Response to dareaderreads: I'm so glad to hear you loved the fight! The way you describe how the tension was crafted makes me feel like such a pro, even though I'm not haha! Thank you so much for the compliments towards the RBA convo, Annie's monologue, everything, really. It made my day to read it. And I truly appreciate your encouragements towards my uploading schedule. Life gets a little crazy sometimes, but knowing that my consistent uploading is appreciated means the world. I hope you enjoy this latest chapter!

Response to kaffeenator666: Thank you for the compliments of the RBA convo. I'm glad I was able to strike the balance of Reiner being tipped off by both Armin's words and Mikasa's general behavior. It's also good to see you appreciated the Annie monologue. The fact of her acting so sadistic in the Female Titan arc but then also have all these empathetic inclinations in the rest of the story always confused me, so I've always headcanoned that she only acts that way so she can dissociate, like she's trying to imitate Reiner's ability to switch between personalities. As for her befriending Armin, I wouldn't say they necessarily became "friends," but in chapters 5 and 6 I tried to set up that she had plenty of interactions with him, and there was an implication that they interacted more off-screen. It wasn't enough to drive Annie to save his life, but her sympathies toward him convinced her not to kill him. I'm happy to see you liked Annie's surprise at Mikasa's skill, though! When we were in Annie's POV, one of my priorities was to make Mikasa seem less like a human and more like a demon, which I think was articulated well in the chapter. Completely agree with you on what Annie could be outmatched by. Levi would destroy her, she'd probably lose to the Attack or Jaw titan if they had support, and Mikasa as long as she has the element of surprise, which she lacks now. Don't worry, Annie may have lost this fight but she is still a forced to be reckoned with, likely one of Mikasa's greatest threats. Yes the two big questions still remain, how will Trost unfold and what will be Reiner's reaction. Both of these I plan to answer soon, so I hope enjoy how they play out in the chapters to come!

There are a lot of things he could be feeling right now. Disgust comes to mind. The blood that scatters the crumbled walls and the cold ground is profuse. It's mixed with the rain, creating a thick, sickening concoction that seeps through every crevice. It's also seemed to seep into the minds of him and his comrades, inducing a crippling fear with every sight.

That's another thing Jean could be feeling right now. Fear. After all, the only thing that's more abundant than the blood that cloaks Trost are the titans themselves. His instructors always said the titans' greatest strength was their numbers, or some bullshit like that. But this exceeds anything he ever imagined, and judging by the looks his fellow trainees, hell, even his officers wore on their faces, he's not the only one. He knew the entire Military structure was incompetent, which is exactly what he hoped to take advantage of, but apparently fate had a different idea for him today.

Everyone is afraid, but the people who were most afraid were the members of his squad as they came face to face with the jaws of a titan.

When they lost Harten, it was shocking to most. Jean knew better than to expect everyone to survive, and yet it still shook him to his core, to see someone who had been so formidable during training succumb to terror within an instant. Ruth was the next one to die on his squad, and it hit just as hard. He can't say he knew her particularly well in his days as a cadet, but she was such a sweet girl, always one to give encouragement. She never went overboard like Krista, but still, she was so nice. Hearing her screams as her head was separated from her body was terrifying in a deep, nauseating way. Despite the horror, all Jean could think about was how easily the titan crushed her in its hands. Maybe he had some vague perception that human bodies were more… tough. He remembers his first thoughts when he witnessed it, of a titan trying to eat a chewy piece of meat, a well done steak perhaps. That's how it should be. She shouldn't be crinkling like a dead leaf.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Jean?"

When he got separated from his group, he thought it was over for him. He used far too much gas evading the titans that came his way, because alone, he felt like he couldn't do a damn thing. He's smarter than that, though. He knows whether or not he has a team on his side won't change how easily the titans kill them all. But there it is, his feelings against his head, that's been his battle this whole day. When faced with inevitable death, it helps to know you were right all along. He was always the one touting how no one could defeat the titans, that those suicidal bastards that insisted they could would all be killed by their own stupidity. But… even though he had predicted an outcome exactly like this, his stomach churns, and his heart falls in despair, as if the events that transpired today proved anything he said wrong. He supposes this is simply what it's like to be human. To feel the anguish of defeat despite recognizing how inevitable it always was.

When he reunited with his squad, all that remained of it was Marco. Apparently, while he was gone, Franz and Zack met the same fate as Harten and Ruth. He remembers his heart rising with a shameful relief, because at least Marco, his best friend, hadn't perished. Once again, however, he quickly shut that thought down. Because it's not as if he isn't soon to die as well. There's truly nothing they could do now.

And despite all the emotions that should be more prominent in his mind, disgust, fear, dread… he feels anger. He's angry because his superiors haven't rung the bell signaling retreat. He's angry because the cowards who were supposed to resupply him have boarded themselves up in headquarters. But most of all, he's angry because Eren Jaeger was a goddamn idiot.

Once again, Jean always knew that, but it still makes his knuckles bleed white, and he doesn't know why. He prized himself as being a realist, and maybe he still is, because he understands their imminent demise better than most, but it's become clear to Jean that that doesn't mean he can't still be utterly crushed by the painful reality that is his life.

"Shit..." he mutters as he stands atop a gloomy rooftop. It's surprisingly desolate in Trost, too. He grew up in this city, became accustomed to the boom and bust of one of the most prominent trading hubs that humanity had, and though he knew a titan attack would change that sound, scar it forever, he expected there to at least be some screams, some stomps, some whizzing of soldiers' gear. But it's silent.

He wonders how long him and Marco have lasted, compared to the others. Are things so silent because they're the only ones left, or is it just a symptom of them being in a big city?

"How are your blades, Jean?" Marco asks, running a finger along the point of his blade, confirming that his current pair has grown dull. Jean shakes his head.

"I could last another half hour, but that's it. I didn't do much killing while I was busy running for my life. What about you?"

"I... I probably tried too hard to save Zack. He was caught in its hand... I thought I could cut him out." Marco struggles to get to the point, the dismal memories obviously still fresh in his mind. He sighs as he finally lets out, "This is my last pair, and it's not sharp enough to do much." There's a heavy guilt on his face, his failure dogging the features of his usually bright expression, and even though it is clearly a problem, Jean can't find it in him to be mad at his friend.

"Don't worry about it..." he wants to say he'd do the same in Marco's shoes, but he doesn't know if that's even true. Would running be smart, or cowardly? Is there such a difference between the two? He always regarded bravery and stupidity to be practical synonyms, so does that make Marco an idiot for trying to save Zack?

Maybe they're all idiots. Him, Marco, everyone.

"The bell to retreat should ring soon, right?" he asks a hopeful tint in his voice, and Jean can't help but scoff.

"Maybe, but it probably won't make a difference anyways. Without any more supplies, I'd be surprised if we can even scale the wall from where we are."

Marco's face widens in surprise, and Jean wonders if he really is making any groundbreaking statements, here. It's been obvious for more than an hour now, how does Marco not see it?

"W-Well we could still try and make it to headquarters and resupply there. We don't know if the titans have swarmed yet."

"Yeah, and I'm not dying to find out, either. Just from here to there, I can see five titans, and that's not counting the small ones that like to jump out at us," he says as he directs his gaze slightly upward, to the hill that their HQ sits upon. Jean can tell there are titans there, but it's too far away to know if they've swarmed. It isn't hard to connect A to B if you ask him, though.

"It can't be hopeless..."

"But it is..." Before Jean can make another depressingly honest comment, the loud ring of a bell reverberates throughout the city. The duo's mouths hang agape as light gasps leave both of their mouths. The echoing ring should inspire relief and respite, yet the clamor is haunting, each clash further cementing the weight of their doom. Marco lets out a long, hopeless sigh, realizing what this means, or more accurately doesn't mean, for them. It has rung too late. The pair are too far gone to hope to escape Trost alive.

Jean grits his teeth, scowling deeply at the bell as he realizes it isn't coming from headquarters like anyone would expect. No, it's perched atop the inner gate, high above the city and safe from the ire of the multitude of titans, and the fact makes him roar. "Oi, idiots! If you need to ring the bell from the top of the walls, that's a pretty damn good sign we should have retreated hours ago!" he shouts into dull, gray sky. "You damn pieces of shit!" he continues letting out obscenities, and to their credit it does make him feel better for the smallest of moments.

He lets his knees hit the rooftop, slamming the side of his fist down in rage. And once again his mind scolds him. "You knew this would happen, Jean! You knew the bell for retreat couldn't save you anymore, so why are you so angry?!"

He even feels tears dare to swell from behind his eyes, because he doesn't want to die. Above all else, he doesn't want to die, it's been his only goal and now it is truly and utterly shattered. He managed to outlive all the members of his squad, save for Marco, and he actually thought that meant something. His heart dared to hope that even though they lost their lives, he still had a chance. He knows it's selfish and crude and uncaring, but that's just the world.

Or maybe that's just what he's been telling himself this whole time. Maybe what he knew and didn't know weren't so different. The sickening pain he felt when watching his comrades die wasn't some strange sensation, contradicting everything he thought he knew about the cruelty of the world, it was simply the price of being a soldier. Everything he proclaimed in their years of training was true, but now, more than anything, he wishes he was wrong.

Eren might have been an idiot, but at least the deaths of their comrades held meaning through his endeavors. What will Jean's death hold? What will Marco's? They'll die because the titans are overwhelming, and for no other reason.

"Jean... Jean?" Marco lightly lets out, putting a hand on his shoulder. Jean clamps his eyes shut, despair withering his body with each droplet of rain, threatening to bury him under the earth before any titan gets the chance. Silence plays out once the ringing ends, and if it were anyone else with him, Jean wouldn't have even thought about letting his pained sighs fall from his mouth. But with his best friend, he feels like he can wilt.

"You can still breathe, right?" he asks, and Jean raises his head to look at him, confusion marring his face at the question. To which Marco continues. "Then we can still do something about this. We still have gas, we still have swords, and we still have each other."

The hopeful flare in his words makes Jean want to cringe. "You're an idiot..." the words leave his tongue weakly. Marco smiles.

"There's got to be some other soldiers who are still alive. If we can find them, maybe they can help us."

Jean sighs. "It's not like there's anything better to do," he resolves to himself, earning a nod from Marco. The two engage their gear once again, Jean knowing that the act may hasten their demise, but flying through the air regardless.

He hooks onto a bell tower, using the height of it to launch himself far into the air and trying his damnedest to look across the vast expanse of buildings. He locates a couple of specks in the distance, some of which he isn't even sure are fellow soldiers, but before he can even warn Marco, a large titan trots out of the alleyway between two buildings, catching the pair off guard. Its neck juts out like a snake, and its expression is permanently fixed into a devilish grin as it slowly turns to face them. When it lets its arms hang lazily beside itself, not bothering to make a move against them, Jean's stomach twists in anxiety.

"An abnormal! Just leave it!" he shouts out to his friend, who's collision course happens to align with the titan.

"Right!" he returns, hooking onto a building to his right and adjusting course abruptly. The titan leaps out suddenly at Marco, but he's quick enough to just barely avoid the sharp clink of its teeth as it tries to take a bite. Jean, as he watches from above, knows if Marco was just a second too late the titan would have cut him cleanly in half, but he scowls, shaking the thought from his mind.

"Don't waste gas on killing them, just try to escape!" Jean warns, making a quick turn around the bell tower to avoid another titan, this one tall enough to reach him. "If we stay in one spot for too long, the titans swarm it in no time!"

He swings through the streets, letting the inertia of his high fall from the tower to the air just above the cobbled ground launch him through. His level of gas stays present in the back of his mind, and he's careful not to use it whenever he doesn't absolutely have to. Jean knows it probably won't make a difference anyways, but he might as well do everything he can to try and survive.

"Go, go!" he cries to Marco as yet another titan shows itself. He ushers Marco into an alleyway before rocketing straight towards one of the few walls of a structure that remains intact as the titan chases him. Using the experience he gained from his years of training and the confidence of knowing he was one of the most adept ODM gear users in his class, he pushes his gas upwards in an instant, not leaving enough room for the pursuing titan to change course before it crashes into the wall. Shards of glass shoot outwards, slicing up its head and neck with little stabs as the roof collapses with the lack of support, burying the titan under stone.

He takes his chance, expelling a decisive puff of gas in the direction he sent Marco, using his wires to maneuver himself in between the buildings, the graveyard of a city that used to be his home. And soon, he makes it out of the alleyway, the other side of which contains a noticeable lack of titans. A sigh of relief escapes his chest, but he knows he can't dawdle. Seeing Marco standing on a nearby roof and waving to him, he reconnects with his friend.

"Let's go!" Marco shouts as they once again take off. "If the titans are really swarming headquarters, our best chance at finding survivors would be at the outskirts of town, right?"

Jean takes a moment to consider the possibility as he swings through the town. But before he can decide the best course of action, his thoughts are rudely halted by a figure that catches his eye. Instead of the massive, booming presence of a titan, though, it's small. As small as can be as it lays on the ground, blond hair stained with blood, covering the eyes that look to be completely shut. "Armin?!" he lets out, his heart lifting at the possibility of meeting another familiar face. The rise of his heart only allows for a greater fall however, when he lands on the ground to quickly lift him in his arms and realizes he's unconscious.

"Thank goodness you were always such a scrawny bastard," he thinks to himself, lifting him up with ease and resuming course with Marco, who's eyes are wide.

"Is that Arlert?"

Jean nods, allowing the silence to play out before the freckled boy's inevitable question. "Is he alive?"

He stays silent. He didn't have time to check his heartbeat, his breaths, or his pulse, so he has no idea whether his friend is still alive, and the question that hangs in the air makes his gut race in circles. He looks dead... But he could confirm it whenever he wants. All it would take is a quick pitstop to place his fingers on his wrist or behind the curve of his jaw, but a part of him doesn't even want to know. He's tired of the death... tired of it.

It isn't the best decision to be carrying him, Jean recognizes. Even though Armin's light, he's not exactly made of air, and the added weight is still forcing him to expel gas more frequently than he would prefer. But even if the blond is dead, he won't leave him to be eaten. Even if they just end up burying him in a mass grave, it'd be better than what the titans have in store for him.

And if he is alive, he just saved the boy's life.

It's surreal, seeing Armin, the boy that always seemed to Jean the weakest of his comrades, in one piece after all this time. He never thought the blond was really cut out to be a soldier, and seeing him bloodied and possibly dead in his arms confirms his thoughts in the most haunting, visceral way possible.

But despite it all, this isn't even a worst case scenario. Armin could live, he has that chance, which is more than he can say for many of his other comrades. In some strange way, it feels as if he's both alive and dead, and Jean can only hold him closer as the dreadful realization dawns on him.

"You're losing your mind, Jean."

Finally, after another ten minutes of scouring the city, Marco's troubled thoughts are interrupted by a voice he's never been happier to hear.

"JEAN, MARCO!" Connie calls out, causing the pair to look to the left where he stands, side by side with a veritable battalion of soldiers.

"Connie!" Marco yells, relief flushing through his veins as he swings over to where their fellow trainees have gathered, atop a relatively tall set of buildings, where titans couldn't get to if they tried. Perhaps they could eventually, but these troops also seem to be taking advantage of the fact that headquarters is currently being swarmed, which is probably why they've congregated here, of all places.

"Y-You're alive!" he stutters out, eyes widening with the deeply relieving realization that his friends are alive. Many aren't here, but Connie, Sasha, Tom, Daz, among some of his other friends, still remain.

"How's your gas?" Connie is quick to ask, the cadets around him eyeing Marco and Jean with hopeful expressions. Marco lets out a deep sigh, but Jean is first to answer.

"We're low... what about you?"

Their faces fall, the atmosphere suddenly losing any spark of optimism it may have once held, and Marco quickly makes the connection. "Don't tell me you're all out of gas, too..."

He's only met with silence, stray curses coming from around them from their disheartened comrades.

"No wonder it took so long to find any of you, you've all been here, not even that far away from headquarters. It's the last place we would have looked if it wasn't for dumb luck," Jean mutters, placing a hand on his head. "So this is all of you..."

"Just everyone we've found so far. You just got here after all, so there might be more out there!" Sasha reminds them, a forcefully positive tint to her voice. Her expression is far from happy, but her face has yet to fall like so many of their comrades. Marco admires the positive attitude, even appreciates it a bit, but even he can tell that there's not much hope for them. He was banking on at least a few of their fellow trainees having enough gas to help them escape to the walls, but it seems that that's what all the others were hoping for as well.

He shoots his eyes across the set of rooftops the soldiers stand upon, this time looking for the faces and figures of comrades he knows are extremely competent, people they can rely on. But he comes up surprisingly short. As he recounts the trainees who made it in the top ten, startlingly few of them can be seen. Krista stands not far from them, standing side by side with Ymir, who's face seems distant. Connie and Sasha are with him, as is Jean... but that's it.

Eren, Annie, Bertholdt, Reiner, and Mikasa, the top five best cadets in the southern division of the 104th... none of them are here, which means they must have died. Marco supposes they could be missing in action, like Armin was until Jean found him, or they could be listlessly wandering the graveyard that was once Trost, like he had been doing with Jean for what's felt like an hour. But that's an amount of optimism they can't afford to have, not at a time like this.

"So... the only top ten members left are us four, and Krista?" Marco asks, eyes wide as the dismal situation they find themselves in only continues to deliver bad news after bad news.

"Yeah... figures..." Ymir mumbles from where she stands, perched on the edge of a building as she eyes the walls with an indiscernible stare.

"There's no way Mikasa's dead yet. Maybe she got placed in the elite squadron. The Garrison isn't so stupid that they'd let someone like her be eaten," Jean says in fervent disbelief, and Marco finds himself agreeing as he thinks about the girl's abilities. Though, he'd be a complete liar if he said this day hadn't given him plenty of shocks already, so Mikasa's death isn't unbelievable.

No one appears to have a response to Jean's musings, so he sits on the roof, at the apex of where the tiles slant upwards to meet.

Marco adjusts the sleeves of his uniform. The cheap, tacky sensation pricks at his arms and makes him itchy all over, and it shakes him more than he realized. This uniform had for so long made him feel powerful, deserved, like he was a part of something bigger than himself, dedicating his entire existence to serving the king and all his glory. Now it occurs to him just how cheaply made it is, just how little whether it's lost in the fray of battle, along with his life, matters. His clothes are no more or less dispensable than his own life.

"Soldiers die, Marco. You knew what you signed up for..." he tells himself. But could he have really guessed that he'd be dying for no reason? He thought he was different from his comrades. That they were cynical, and often selfish, crippling under the weight of despair too quickly. But he's right here with them, sinking under the heaviness imbued upon them by the inevitability of death all the same. His uniform may be cheap, but so it is for every soldier. From Armin to Reiner, from Hannah to Mikasa, all of them share this monotonous itch.

"Oi, am I the only one who's noticed Ymir giving the walls a death stare this whole time?" Jean mutters, frantically searching for something to say amongst the defeating silence.

"Looks that way... you want trophy, Kirstein?" Ymir responds dryly, not moving her head.

"I wouldn't bother with it, Jean. Ymir's been acting strange all day. We're all... taking this in different ways" Krista attempts to console, giving Jean an understanding glance.

"What's there left to take? We're all gonna die, right Ymir?" he asks, eyes shifting to a more scrutinizing glare. Marco can't tell if Jean's genuinely curious as to whether Ymir has something in the back of her mind, or if he's just doing anything to distract himself.

"What's left is none of your damn business." Her tone is biting, earning a gentle frown from Krista. The blonde takes Ymir's hand, causing the brunette to finally shift her gaze to her, and an unspoken conversation occurs between them, leaving Marco to let out a sad sigh. Krista was always one to temper the sandstorm that was Ymir. Her dryness was always overbearing, but Krista had a quality that no one else seemed to have. They all knew what it was, of course. Krista's the sweetest thing there is, always going out of her way to make the lives and attitudes of her comrades more pleasant, even when it isn't appreciated. What's surprising, Marco supposes, is that this ever worked on Ymir in the first place. Of all people, Krista's positivity had such an effect on her? It wouldn't have been his first guess, to say the least.

"Right now...I'm trying to figure out how we're gonna patch that hole," she finally confirms, gesturing over to the giant hole that used to be the gate to the city.

Jean gawks. "Are you nuts? We'll be lucky enough to leave with our heads still on our bodies."

"Not nuts. Just an idiot," she lets out under her breath, earning a confused stare from everyone who's listening to their conversation. Maybe there is something Ymir isn't letting on about, but Marco hasn't the time nor the energy to ponder it. When faced with death, it's hard not to let your own life flash before your eyes, so he assumes she's reevaluating all the choices she's made during her short time in this world. Aren't they all?

"So Ymir's an idiot, what else is new?" Connie interjects, impatience finally boiling over. "Hey, Jean, what are we gonna do?!"

Jean gives him a tired look before slumping his shoulders and bowing his head. "There's nothing we can do..." he sighs, looking over to their headquarters, which towers above the rest of the city as he stops to formulate his words. "To think when the retreat signal finally rings, we can't climb the walls because we're out of gas. Now we're all going to die. All because of those spineless bastards." His eyes are weak, scars of trauma from the events of the day still evident on his face.

"You mean the supply squads?" Connie turns to face him, frustration returning to his face. "What's up with them anyway?! Did they get wiped out?"

"No... the titans are still swarming it, so they're probably still bunkered in there, which means they lost their fighting spirit. I can understand that, but... how could they abandon their supply mission and confine themselves to HQ? Resupply's impossible now, all because there's too many titans."

"Then we got no choice but to risk everything on taking them out!" the bald soldier shouts, desperately searching for an argument to fight against Jean's disheartening apathy. "It'd be better than sitting around here doing nothing, right?! The titans are bound to come here, too! Even if we keep running from them, all that'll do is waste the little gas we have left. Once we lose our mobility, it'll really be over!" He knocks on his canister.

"Seems you're finally using your head for once, Connie." He remarks dully, turning his head to the multitude of soldiers atop the buildings around them, their despairing, hopeless, fearful expressions inspiring not a speck of confidence in anyone. "But do you think it's possible with these forces? The veterans who fought on the front lines are mostly dead. Who among us recruits could take command of a suicide mission like that? Well, even if one of us could, we wouldn't be able to beat those titans..." his voice begins to die into a whisper. "I bet a ton of three and four meter class titans are inside the gas supply room by now. Naturally, working our way into there would be impossible."

Connie stiffens, and his words tumble out of his tired mouth. "So... it's hopeless?"

Jean lets out a final, hearty sigh, eyes darkened with defeat. "What a dull life it's been. If I'd known this would happen..."

Marco's shoulders drop, and he begins to walk over to Jean. Marco knew he was never the type to be optimistic, but seeing Jean in this state still manages to jab his chest. Everything he once thought formidable, everything he put his faith in, feels weaker now. They're truly helpless against the titans... aren't they?

He was prepared to give his life for the king, easily. That was never a question. Perhaps, however, somewhere along the way he got the impression he'd be dying for the king. Maybe it wouldn't be in his majesty's direct defense, but giving his life for the goals of the king, for the betterment of humanity, was something that filled him with pride and fierce resolve. But what is he dying for now? There's nothing to be gained from this offensive. Trost will fall, and Wall Rose with it. His only purpose in death is to contribute to a point, a fact of life: that humanity cannot defeat titans.

Before he can reach Jean, however, a gasp startles him from behind. By the rooftop where Jean left him sits Armin, laying on his back. The blond stares at the sky with a blank expression, lifting his left hand up and squinting at it. It's a little funny, Marco thinks, because Armin seems surprised to see his own hand as he shifts it back and forth across his face, eyeing with a keen interest.

As Marco approaches him, he hears Jean let out a relieved gasp as he, too, moves over to his blond friend.

He lays a hand on Armin's shoulder, startling him out of his stupor. "Armin, thank goodness you're alive."

Armin furrows his brows, laying a hand on his head as his eyes begin to widen. "M-Marco...?"

"Yeah. We picked you up while you were unconscious, are you alright?"

He doesn't answer, and the confusion only becomes more stark on his face as his eyes move to the boy to Marco's left. "Jean..."

"Oi, snap out of it. You remember what happened to your squad? Why did you get knocked out?"

"I...I..." Armin's eyes begin to bleed tears, horror permanently fixed on his face, disheartening Marco even further. He shouldn't be surprised to see Armin like this. This is a terrible situation they're all in, and the blond was always more on the meek side. Regardless of what makes sense, though, it shakes Marco to his core to see him like this.

"I'm so sorry... I..." tears overwhelm his senses as he starts to sob holding both hands on either side of his head to caress his headache.

"What? What is it, Armin?" Marco encourages.

"I left them... Eren... Mikasa... I let you die..." his voice dies underneath the whispers and sobs. "I'm-I'm so sorry... I deserve this... I deserve to be here! This is hell and I'm meant to be here!" he starts to sob once more, hiccupping and shaking all at the same time, creating quite the spectacle for the trainees around them. Connie and Sasha wear concerned faces, but many of their other comrades, the ones who never got to know Armin that well, look mortified at the sight. It isn't the most encouraging thing in the world to see a comrade who was always the brightest of the class succumb to delirium.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he continues to repeat to them, though Marco knows he's not apologizing to them. The blond's words finally sink in, and they appear to do the same for Jean as his face expands in shock.

"Eren and Mikasa...? They- They're dead?" he sputters out.

Armin stops his crying briefly to look up at Jean, giving him a somewhat deranged look, as if to say "Of course they're dead." But did he witness it? Or is this another instance of him being so sure of his own weakness to assume that they died? Normally he wouldn't question Armin's words, but he's clearly not in the best of mental states right now. Plus, a part of him still wants to believe that the best cadet in the entire 104th training corps is still alive, to have that assurance that all is not lost.

But to his surprise, Armin looks down in contemplation, still hiccupping from his sobs as his eyes race, a storm of thoughts clearly raging in his mind. "I, I-uh... I don't..."

And after a second of complete silence from him, Jean sighs, standing up once again. "If they died, I don't see why whichever titan killed them wouldn't go after you, too, Armin."

The two look each other in the eyes as Armin's brows furrow deeply. "...huh?"

Marco loses his patience, shaking Armin's shoulder lightly in an attempt to get his attention. "Armin. Whether they're dead or not... we don't have time to worry about it right now. I don't know how long you've been out, but we're all low on gas and the headquarters has been overrun by titans."

"The cowards inside are hiding, so the titans won't be going away anytime soon. There's not much we can do now," Jean adds, looking across the smoky, crumbled cityscape.

Seeing that Armin's begun to calm himself down, Marco moves away as well to gaze at their headquarters. There has to be something, something they could at least try. Does he think anything has a good chance of working? No. Does he think they're doomed to die painful deaths at the hands of the titans? Yes...

But Connie was right, all they have left to do is fight. At the very least, dying in the vain attempt of accomplishing a higher goal would be preferable to sitting here for the last hours of their lives, the dread of the inevitable poisoning every ticking second of it.

"So... it's happening again," Armin says as he looks out across the once beautiful city, reduced to ashes by the hand of fate and the actions of the Armored Titan.

Marco shoots the blond a sympathetic look as he remembers what he went through. He was a survivor of Shiganshina, which means he's seen this all before. The abyssal fear that makes the heart sink indefinitely, the horror of watching loved ones be crushed and consumed, and the, to what must be to Marco, uncanny feeling of seeing the home you've spent your entire life in be ruined, filled with nothing but the lumbering arbiters of your suffering.

"I grew up here..." Jean lets out in a low whisper, earning a curious look from Connie and Marco. It seems that he, too, picked up on Armin's harrowing reminder. "This place was a shithole, don't get me wrong, but..."

"Jean." Marco puts a hand on his shoulder, Deja vu washing over his body. "We may be an inch from death, but..." as he gazes across the buildings once again, they seem to transform into trees, creating a vast, stony forest. "We've done this all before! I don't think I have everything sorted out in my head yet, but Jean needs to hear this," he resolves to himself.

Jean looks at him, his expression battered by the continual blows reality has dealt him, but Marco only smiles. "Do you remember our first group race, two years ago?"

"Huh?"

"It was me and you, plus Armin and Annie. If I remember correctly, we only won by the skin of our teeth, by shooting ahead at the last second."

Jean is silent as he takes in Marco's words, clearly wondering what the point of him bringing this up at a time like this is.

"It was thanks to you. You took charge of the situation and you led us to victory."

He scoffs. "I didn't take charge of anything, I went out all on my own, like you always tell me I do. If anything, you let me go ahead."

"That's where you're wrong, Jean. I didn't realize it at the time, but you were the only reason I was able to keep going. Your skill with the ODM gear gave me the confidence I needed to put everything on you. It's the only reason we won."

"Stop that. I'm not cut out to be a leader."

Marco bites back a sigh, desperate to get his message across. "You might not be perfect, but you're what we need right now," he reassures, leaving Jean to frown.

"To lead a suicide charge? I... I can't. You know we'd be flying to our deaths."

He thinks it strange, that the boy he knew so well through his training years, the one who was always more sure of himself than anything, struggles to muster even the will to fight the titans. He wonders if Jean was a hypocrite all this time, or if he truly didn't expect the overwhelming might of the titans. Either way would make him a fool, Marco supposes. "But aren't we all?"

"You know as well as I do that standing here won't change that fact. We might all die, but it's worth the chance."

Jean eyes the tiled roof again, deliberation daring to peek behind the corners of his sandy brown eyes. Marco's stomach begins to curl as impatience gets the better of him. It's unusual for the poor boy, but he's not surprised that now, of all times, is when he gets it. "The titans are only getting closer... Jean needs to act, I know he can do it. All he needs is something, a little push, something to inspire him and his comrades, something-"

And it arrives, in the form of a sharp whiz of ODM gear, followed by a mighty crash as a familiar looking raven haired girl slams into a building slightly ahead of them. The sound and the presence of the figure is enough to make most of the trainees gasp in shock, and it only increases as she turns around, revealing the beaten, bloody face of Mikasa wearing a sharp scowl. Her eyes are cool as ice as she grits her teeth, looking at the cadets for a brief moment before shouting.

"Hurry!" is all she says. And she's off, flying straight towards headquarters.

For a few seconds, they're all stunned. Stunned into silence, into inaction, most of all Ymir and Armin, who seem utterly surprised by her arrival, though in very different ways. However, as the astonishment wears off, the situation coming back to Marco, he widens his eyes, realizing that it's now or never.

Thankfully, Jean finally begins to realize it too. "Mikasa!" he shouts, futilely reaching out a hand as if to stop her. He pauses, glancing at his outstretched hand before raising up above his head.

...

"Was that supposed to be inspirational? 'Hurry?!' Way to go, Mikasa. Dammit..." Jean raises his voice, addressing the swathes of demoralized soldiers around him.

"Hey, listen up! Were we trained to let our fellow soldiers fight and die alone?! Do you really want to become cowards?!" and he runs. Despite himself, despite everything he's convinced himself for years, of the immense power of the titans, of the futility of fighting against them. His legs defy his own teaching as he thinks about Mikasa. She's bloody, on the cusp of collapse, but she's alive, going on the offensive without a second thought.

It's a damn good thing actions speak louder than words, because her act, unlike her pitiful word of a speech, fills his heart with a stupid confidence. It isn't as reassuring as Eren's speeches, even though no one would ever catch him saying that out loud, but it works. Armin made it seem like Mikasa and Eren were together before he got separated, and though he's filled with relief that Mikasa is alive, the thought of what might have happened to Eren fills him with dread.

But he thinks to Marco, of his words, of the hope that was so obviously in his eyes, and Jean knows he can't afford to think about anything other than leading right now. "If you screw this up, you won't have the confidence to do it again, coward..." he reminds himself.

So he jumps. The whizzing sound of the wires shooting out of their coil and the light puff of gas do much to remind him of his skills. "You're one of the best with your ODM gear, Jean. So you better use it!"

Behind him, he hears multiple other sets of ODM gear, which continue to fill his heart with a flimsy confidence, one he just knows won't last long. He's not a coward, he's just smart. He always knew the truth of the world, unlike some idiots. But now isn't a time to be smart. He struggled to be smart this whole time, to rationalize the sinking feeling in his entire body as he watched his comrades die, and it failed him. Now is the time to be an idiot. To be stupidly brave, because no amount of tactical cowardice is going to save his life this time.

As he swings through the air, more careful than ever not to use too much gas, he watches Mikasa, far in front of him. Watching her soar through the air is like watching a stone skip across the water by a practiced thrower, each plop against the water a puff of gas. She's using it incredibly sparingly, no doubt just as, if not more, out of gas than all of her comrades, yet she's zipping through the air with impressive speed.

Jean shouldn't be surprised, of course. He knows Mikasa was always the strongest soldier he'll ever meet, but seeing her in the true face of battle is a sight in and of itself.

It isn't long, however, before the luxury of admiring the girl he once had a huge crush on is halted, as two titans, both around ten meters in height, walk ever slowly towards him. He looks back at the soldiers near him, Connie, Armin, and Marco among them, as well as many other farther behind.

"Follow Mikasa! We do this fast, and storm the HQ before our gas runs out!"

He shifts in the air, maximizing the distance between him and the titan ahead of him before he shoots ahead once again, making sure to run across the rooftops that still lay intact while he can. As he runs out of roof to dash on, he glances ahead of him, seeing another building separated by just a short alleyway. Resolving to make the jump across and save up on some gas, he leaps. But as he looks down in the middle of the air, not only does he realize that this alleyway was bigger than he thought, there's also a wide, shining smile staring back up at him, poised to jump up and bite.

Jean crashes onto the roof, making the jump, but not well enough to stay on his feet. "Shit! Get up, Jean, hurry!" he scrambles to get up, but the titan is faster, climbing its way up to him and opening its mouth wide. Jean flinches, preparing to spring out of the way with his gas, but he knows he won't make it.

In an action that makes his heart soar in relief, a soldier flies into the titans back, managing to cut the nape after two swings. But it's to his utter disbelief as he sees a blond figure land on the roof next to him, the titan crashing back down into the alleyway with a thud.

"A-Armin!"

"You... are you okay?" Armin looks just as surprised at himself as Jean does.

"Yeah..." he mumbles. The situations comes back to him quickly, though, and he readies his ODM gear again "You'll have the chance to thank him when this is over," he tries to convince himself, though he knows the likelihood of him actually getting that chance is close to zero.

They both bounce into the air once again, swinging lowly between the buildings in hopes of gaining as much inertia as possible. As Jean scouts his eyes around, he sees Sasha and Connie, but grunts when he realizes he's lost sight of Mikasa, no doubt thanks to his detour. She was his beacon, the figure that drove him to finally rally the troops and try their damnedest to get to HQ. Now, there was truly no going back, no one to rely on other than the soldiers by his side, the ones that are putting a lot of trust, and their lives, on him.

Another titan tumbles into the main street, causing the soldiers to disperse in every direction like a colony of ants about to be crushed. Jean does the same, but before he can fully get out of the way, he notices another titan approaching from the direction he's heading. This one is lanky, but its long legs still manage to carry it with a terrifying speed. Jean slides onto the ground feet first, using the inertia gained to roll over to the right, quickly pivoting his hips and shooting up at sharp angle as the titan misses its swipe.

"Damn! There's still too many!"

Against his own better judgement, he soars high into the air to find sanctuary away from the titans. It's a terrible waste of gas, but Jean needs a breather, and as he plummets back down he uses the force gained to speed through a narrow street, one full of smaller titans. Other comrades of his go for the same maneuver, some people he recognizes and others he doesn't. But many die all the same.

A girl is grabbed harshly by a titan, a audible crack emanating from her as her back juts backwards from the sudden stop, killing her instantly. Another isn't as lucky, being bitten at the foot, which causes all his speed to halt as he falls to the ground. From there, it's only a matter of moments before he's crushed by the jaws of a titan, blood gushing out as he screams for his mother.

Jean, somehow, makes it through. He lands on another rooftop, eyeing the headquarters with a hope he doesn't dare let blossom, but he stops. Unfortunately, between him and the military structure sits a perpendicular street, far too wide for him to jump across, filled to the brim with titans. Ten? Fifteen? Twenty five? There isn't a point in counting. There are too many.

And as he sees the others, the cadets who, like him, have somehow made it past that gauntlet of death, a crippling thought enters into his mind.

"It's hopeless, we can't even get close to HQ. Not unless we're willing to risk even more casualties." He glances back at the soldiers, the fear returning to their faces. "And no one would be willing to do that now..."

His thoughts are stopped by a desperate scream, and he looks to his left. A cadet stands out in the open, wires dangling from where they're implanted on the side of a building. Unfortunately, it's no use, because with each frantic push of his triggers, a miniscule amount of gas is released. Not enough to even push him slightly forwards, let alone propel him.

"Damn! He's out of gas!"

"Stay back!" he shouts, his swords trembling with his terror as he feebly attempts to stop the advancing titans, their figures domineering over him.

Jean can only stand and watch the horrifying sight before him, but it's only exacerbated as he hears one of his comrades, which he recognizes as Maxi, come from behind him. "Tom, I'm coming for you!" he yells, flying down towards the titans to save his friend.

"Wait, don't! It's too late!" is all that Jean can let out before another soldier swoops in to help, shouting something too unintelligible for Jean's deluged ears.

Tom lets tears stream down his face. With his entire body locked by the arms of the titan, all he can do is shake his head, begging for it to spare him.

"Stop!-" Maxi readies his blades to swing, but another titan juts out its arm, wrapping him in an iron grip. He's forced to take a strained breath, the force of the hold enough to collapse his ribs and lungs. Jean's heart stops at the sight, his face contorting into a shocked, sturdy gaze as he fights desperately to contain his own emotion. He was such an idiot, thinking that they could even get close to headquarters without being annihilated. Did he really dare to think it was possible? Did he just commit an act even that suicidal bastard would call insane? Surely he never believed it himself... right?

Maxi... and Tom... he knew them. He knew everyone who's died, and now...

Tom finally screams, a guttural plea that rumbles from the back of his weak throat, until he's torn in two at the chest, intestines spilling out of him before the titan can eat him whole. He was powerless to it all, no matter how much he screamed, and here Jean stands, still alive, seeing his actions bear fruit.

"Why couldn't I stop them?" his face remains in permanent, traumatic shock. He watches blood gush down the titans arms, the pair of legs that once belonged to his comrade involuntarily twitching as the titan consumes his spine. "Why didn't I stop them? If I had forced them to stop, this wouldn't have happened.."

Once again, the blood that scatters the crumbled walls and the cold ground is profuse. It's mixed with the rain, creating a thick, sickening concoction that seeps through every crevice.

"Do I have the right... to hold a position of responsibility?"

"No! I don't want to die!" she screams. And they all watch. They watch her writhe and shout in terror because they can do nothing, and Jean could do nothing, despite the burden of leadership that he so willingly thrust upon himself.

He realizes that he deserves to watch. He deserves to see the product of his actions, of his words, of his leadership. But it appears that Sasha doesn't have the same idea.

"J-Jean! We need to move!"

"We can't..." he lets out, sucking in another breath to continue before Marco shouts.

"No, Jean, look!" He shoots his finger behind the three, and Jean turns, eyes widening once again as he sees a titan. This one is easily fifteen meters, muscles adorning its body as it looks towards them with a rage Jean has never seen in his life. The green, burning eyes shake him to his core, and he, like the rest of the cadets around him, realizes that it is running straight towards them.

It walks on a limp, left leg battered by some sort of vicious attack that is in the process of being healed off, but it's still moving far faster than any abnormal Jean has seen. "Shit!" his heart kicks into high gear as he glances back at Marco, who wears a similarly troubled face.

"What do we do?!" he asks. Jean stares at the street in front of him, his mind racing as the thoughts of the awful actions he took as a leader seep into his psyche, poisoning his resolve.

"Titans are blocking the street. Whatever I do... it will just get more of my comrades killed... I don't have any right to-" his thoughts are stopped by Marco's shoulder, and regardless of everything that's going on, all the fear and dread, his eyes are reassuring.

"You were the only reason I was able to keep going" he had said to him.

"No... I have it wrong..." he thinks, and he has to fight against the way his heart rises and tightens at the realization. "This is the time. Now, with all those titans concentrated there. This is our chance!"

"We go now! We run to HQ right now!" he leaps, landing on a small building, one the titans could easily reach if they weren't so distracted by their feast. He hears others do the same, and a part of him wants to turn around and shout at them, to tell them not to follow, because they'll probably die. But he shuts it down.

"It's our only chance. Once we're out of gas, it's over." he reminds himself. "Full speed ahead!"

He runs, they all do. Building after building, they jump and run and hope beyond hope that no titans happen to notice them. Unfortunately, as they're forced to take to the air again, three titans, all extremely tall, stand at the footsteps of headquarters. He halts his gas slightly, adjusting his speed to properly curve in between them, but as soon as he's about to make it through, his breath hitches as he feels his leg get pulled back. He glances down to see a titan holding it in a firm grip, and despite his gut reaction to shake and squirm to get out, for once, for goddamn once, his logical side finally comes in. With less than a second to react, he brings his sword to the thumb and forefinger of its hand, using all his frantic strength to slice it and allow for him to fall out. He flips, evading the titans attempt to recapture him as he zips away, heart finally catching up to him.

Jean lands on another building, breaking into a sprint as the HQ gets closer and closer in sight. Marco lands next to him, running at his side with a relieved smile.

"Jean! Thank you. Thanks to you, we made it out safely."

"Huh?"

"It's thanks to you. I told you you're cut out for leadership!"

Jean fights hard to keep the smile from forming on his face. "I don't know about that."

There it is, headquarters, just in sight. Titans, so many titans, easily numbering in the thirties to forties, dot the landscape. But the adrenaline coursing through his veins leaves him unabated. He shoots out his wires, making the final rush to the building.

One swipe after another from the multitude of titans, an occasional bite, is what he's forced to dodge as he makes it through, and at this point he can only hope that the others are as successful as him. But as he hears the anguished, bloody scream of a comrade, he knows that he once again fell into the sinking pit of optimism, and such a thing can't exist in this world.

"Damn it!" he shouts, letting out an impassioned roar as he uses the last of his gas to rocket towards the nearest window, shifting his feet forward and breaking through with a loud crash.

It isn't long before more crashes are heard, so loud that they mesh into each other, attacking his ears. Marco, Sasha, Connie, Ymir, Krista, Armin, so many of his comrades made it, the heart that tightened in his chest finally unravels, and he collapses onto the ground. Sweaty, relieved, and tired.

Yet the guilt continues to trickle into his soul. "How many made it? I took advantage of our comrades' deaths. Many died at my command..." he places a hand on his head, eyes wide as the weight of his disgusting actions settles in.

He looks to his left, to the shadow cast by the underside of the desk, to see two figures, white with fear as they curl under the wood. His eyes widen. One is stained with blood, fully traumatized at whatever happened, and the other's eyes are red from tears.

"Aren't you guys with the supply team?"

"Yea-" the one on the right is yanked forward by the collar until he's standing, allowing Jean to deliver the punch to the jaw he absolutely deserved. His blood boils as he looks at the now kneeling figure, ready to throw swift kicks to the stomach before he's stopped by Marco, who grabs him by the arms. "Stop it!" Marco tries.

"They are the ones who abandoned us! Because of you, more died than was necessary!"

"Titans came into the supply area! We couldn't do anything!" she begins to cry as she sits in between Jean and his victim.

"Doing something is your job!"

"Jean. Stop this." Mikasa's voice cuts into the room. It's quiet, yet more authoritative than Jean's petulant shouts could ever be. He stop to look at her.

"Mikasa... how long have you been here?"

"Long enough."

His anger rises up again. "You disappeared! I had to be the one to lead us to headquarters while you blazed ahead!" It's a strange sensation, being even remotely upset with her, simply because it's never happened before, but his teenage drama isn't anywhere near the front of his mind right now.

"I knew you could lead them better than I could. It doesn't matter now anyways," she responds.

"What?!" is all he can stutter out before her icy, dissociated gaze is interrupted by Armin.

"Mikasa!" he calls, eyes wider than the moon. He halts a bit, with Mikasa's stare turning into a look of trepidation. And an inevitable question follows, one even Connie could guess.

"...Where's Eren?"

He's met by silence. Her eyes flash a new tone, a mixture of what looks to be guilt and fear pooling in her stormy blue eyes. "He's dead," she's quick to say, and even quicker to move on from, turning around to approach a nearby window.

Jean's chest shrinks. He lets out a gasp in a desperate attempt for air, but it doesn't feel like it's enough, and why? Why does his death, of all the fellow trainees he's seen perish, affect him to intensely? He pauses to think, and the answer comes to him quicker than he would have hoped. It's because he can't believe it.

Just like that? Eren Jaeger is dead? That suicidal bastard really bit the dust that easily?

"You can't be serious..." Jean lets out. It's tone deaf, he knows, considering who he's talking to and her relationship with the boy, but he can't help himself. All that idealism behind those emerald eyes, all that fortitude, gone in an instant. Gone with the curt words of "He's dead."

She stops, as if to turn around and say something, but she doesn't. After a moment of silence, she continues walking again, abandoning any thought she might have had.

"What?" Armin seems genuinely confused, as if the prospect of losing his best friend was impossible, despite how certain he was that it did happen half an hour ago. Marco lays a hand on the blond's shoulder, letting out an "I'm sorry," in condolence.

"Mikasa..." Sasha lets out, her eyes wide with concern. Jean can't help but frown. His gut reaction is to complain, to say "What's with the concern? So Jaeger is dead, nothing will change that, and nothing changes the countless other soldiers who died today."

But should be able to mourn? Of course not... he didn't even like Eren. He didn't even like him, but...

Jean shakes the thoughts away, not eager to confront his true feelings over Eren's death. What matters is how this affects Armin and Mikasa, and as he continues to stare at her, he can only wonder one thing. Her eyes are distant, as if deep in contemplation.

"No, Sasha should be concerned. Why is Mikasa acting like this?" Mikasa has always stuck by Eren's side, fiercely defending him and supporting him. She was silent as the night, cold as the winter winds, but with Eren she became the total opposite of that. It was obvious how much she loved him and how nothing anyone could do would convince her to leave his side.

And now he's dead... yet, Mikasa hardly reacts.

He doesn't know why, but it makes him angry. Not angry at her, but at himself, because even though he knows he has no reason, no right to, he feels like the inverse to her. He never cared for Eren like she did. Quite the contrary, they butted heads every second they got the opportunity. Jaeger was an asshole, and an idiot. Mostly an idiot. So why did he feel so... invincible? By all accounts Jean shouldn't be surprised by the news, seeing how headstrong Eren always was, but he is.

"Some of us really did die. Some ran, and some were kicked out. But we made it! Didn't we? So we can make it through today!"

That's what Eren had pinned Jean to the wall to tell him. And now he's dead. It tosses his heart left and right, to and fro as he struggles to decide what to think. But whatever he chooses to think is one thing. What he feels is another, and there's no point in denying it to himself now. He's shocked.

As has proven to be a common theme today, he's never been so disheartened at the revelation that everything he always touted in his trainee days was completely, utterly, correct.

But if he's shocked, what does that make Mikasa? What should that make Mikasa?

What did Jean expect, for her to be suicidal for him? To collapse under the weight of losing her love? Of course not... right? This is the right reaction for her to have when she's still in the midst of fighting titans. As relieving as it is to be in the headquarters, there are still far too many titans, and death is still a likely outcome.

His only conclusion is that she has not, cannot process it. Not yet, anyways, and the thought makes him explode in an uncharacteristic pity. Her and Armin are still his friends, they deserve to-

"It's not the time, Jean. If they die, they'll join him in the grave all the same. Right now, we have to-"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." The voice of Ymir interjects Jean's thoughts. She's staring out a large window, eyes wide and mildly pissed as Krista stands next to her with a ghostly pale face. Jean approaches, and he gasps at the sight of the fifteen meter titan he saw earlier, the one wielding a profound rage, not far from where the headquarters stand.

This time, though, it isn't chasing them. No, it's... pummeling a smaller titan into the ground.

I know its a cliffhanger and I'm sorry haha. Most of the time the point of my cliffhangers is to keep with the spirit of Attack on Titan and have them finish off on really cool moments, but this time I just couldn't think of a way to end it :p. And that's a pretty common theme with this chapter: not knowing what to do with it. Despite having two weeks (albeit work filled weeks), writers block made this an absolute monster to write, and I feel like it came out kind of directionless. More than that, though, I feel like this chapter may have been on the boring side. There were a lot of words but not a whole lot happening by comparison, and that's just added to the fact that these aren't characters we've spent a lot of time with so far. I'm certainly planning on stepping up my game for the next chapter, as it is going to be much more significant. Either way, what did you guys think? I tend to be my worst critic, so I can't really trust myself with how I think these chapters will be received. Could I have afforded to cut down the word count? Was it just right? Was it too boring? I'd love to hear your thoughts, and have a nice day! -Y