William blinked, finding water around him. His vision was blurry for a moment. His nostrils drug in clean air. He looked cross-eyed down the bridge of his nose to see a breathing apparatus stuck to his face.
He turned his attention to everything around him, and saw he was in a tank of some sort. Outside its glass was a room with rounded white walls, and several pieces of machinery, ranging from monitors to what looked like large computer consoles of some kind.
Machine.
It was the first words William could think of. His body wasn't in as much pain as it had been when he was last conscious.
Looking around the room, he saw a single woman working on some of the computers near the pod he was being kept in. Doomguy could tell he was healed, and he felt stronger than ever. His last kill of one of the demons moments ago had boosted his strength.
The woman stopped what she was doing to look over at William. She smiled softly when she saw he was awake. She stepped close to the pod, placing her hand onto the glass and leaning in to smile gently.
"I'm glad you're up," she said, her voice light.
She was of average height and slender build. Her skin was a lighter-pale complexion, onyx eyes, shaggy black hair reaching her shoulders, and her bangs traced down her forehead. She donned a revealing dark decorative gown with opera gloves and high heels, a choker, and a necklace. She also possesses cat ears and a tail, which sways freely behind her.
"Hold on, let me empty the container."
The woman turned back to one of the computers. Punching a few buttons, William watched as the liquid drained out of the container. The hatch popped open and the woman stood before him.
"Thank goodness, you're all better," the woman said. "You were in pretty bad shape when I found you. I was afraid you might not make it."
Without thinking, William pulled the apparatus off his face. Slowly he stood up, using the side of the tank for support and stumbled towards the woman. She quickly reached out an arm to catch him before he fell on his face. She smiled when he steadied himself on the edge of the tank.
"How are you feeling?" The woman asked. She frowned when William didn't grace her with a response. "Are your wounds healing okay?" She prompted again. "They should have healed by now right?"
William gently shoved her arms away and moved to stand on his own. He straightened his back out and glared down at his hands. "Guts…huge guts." He clenched both fists tightly and grimaced. "Kill them…must…kill them all." He growled through gritted teeth.
His voice sounded deep and rough, with an undercurrent that seemed more like a guttural growl that William used than a language. He looked over to see the woman staring at him, concern evident in her features. When their eyes met his face slightly softened.
The woman's eyes…they reminded him of someone he knew from somewhere…but William couldn't place it. A sense of purity seemed to envelope her like a warm ray of sunlight. It almost made William uncomfortable. He averted his gaze down to the floor. His hands slowly uncurled his fists, flexing his fingers. Then he lifted his head and looked the woman in the eye when she spoke.
"Heh heh, sorry. I should probably introduce myself," the woman said. "My name is Nava, Princess of Argent D'Nur." She stepped close to William and pointed a finger at him. "What's your name?"
Doomguy glanced at the floor, glaring at his feet. "…William…"
(ATTACK ON TITAN)
Two Royals I:
Arrangements
When one is presented with a new tool, take it not with lust for bloodshed on innocent lives. Protect humanity akin to a shepherd guarding his sheep, and use your new tool to slay those that bring harm to the innocents that quiver behind you.
- Corrax Entry 8:32
(ATTACK ON TITAN)
The Hell-walker proceeded with resolute fury towards the gate of Wall Maria. With everyone safely ensconced within the confines of Wall Rose, there was no one present to divert his attention or impede his progress. He found himself once again in solitude, yet this fact held no significance for him; after all, he himself initiated his perpetual torment countless ages ago, and thus he is better equipped to confront any obstacle that may befall him unaccompanied. Should it entail safeguarding the survival of Humanity in this realm and beyond, so be it. He has confronted more formidable adversaries in the past, and these Titans are no exception.
The Doom Slayer halted in his tracks. A group of titans in different shapes and sizes stood ten feet away from him. Some of the titans were trailing behind from the other side of the gate, others were eating corpses of soldiers and civilians who were not so fortunate to survive the massacre. Doom Slayer clicked his tongue; he deduced that one of the soldiers forgot to close the gate.
Damn idiots, Doom Slayer thought.
Vega backup systems restored. Re-routing vocal interface through the computer's audio-link. Current operating capacity is limited to 5% due to processor restrictions.
The Slayer paused, taken aback of what he just heard.
Attempting uplink with UAC orbital communications... Unavailable. Attempting uplink with local short-range communications... Unavailable. Attempting uplink with wide-spectrum data systems... Unavailable.
The Slayer's eyes blinked in surprise.
Is that… who he thinks it is?
No, it can't be.
Boot-up sequence complete. Will maintain connection with localized systems until link with UAC is re-established…
The Slayer blinked as he saw a familiar symbol on its HUD accompanied by its name, "VEGA?"
I am VEGA. Sentient Intelligence created by Union Aerospace Corporation formerly assigned to Mars-
"How?"
Please be more specific with your query.
The Slayer exasperatedly growled, "How?!"
I am currently being run by the operating system in your Praetor Suit through the AI backup you saved during your excursion to the AI core on Mars. I am able to function off the Argent energy reserves in your suit. The Slayer actually had forgotten he had done that. Upon careful examination of the footage depicting your recent arrival to this world, I am compelled to confirm that this is indeed an alternate dimension, entirely distinct from our own.
The Slayer arched a brow; VEGA just realized that?
Once the Titans in the vicinity have been wiped out from this area, we will need to acquire more information about our surroundings before we can decide our next course of action. I have marked all the targets on your HUD.
In the distance, a group of titans advanced towards him, reminiscent of an impending tempest. The Slayer deftly retrieved his turret from behind his back. The barrels whirred to life, their rotation accelerating with each passing moment. Once fully charged, he unleashed its wrath upon the trio, each round piercing through their flesh relentlessly. The three colossal adversaries succumbed with a resounding thud, causing the very ground to tremble, as their innards, organs, and blood seeped from every aperture in their bodies.
Steam billowed from each barrel of the turret. The Slayer threw his weapon back in his inventory and glanced at the ground upon noticing something. On the ground lay the corpse of a dead soldier. But that wasn't what caught his eye, rather the equipment he had around his waist.
What did that lady call it? Doom Slayer thought. ODM Gear?
The Slayer knelt down to one knee next to the dead soldier. After a few minutes of untying he brought the device up to his view. Based on what he had seen, he deduced that the soldiers used this device to maneuver around in the air and weaving around titans to strike them from the nape. At least that's what he'd been told. He threw the device in his space inventory without thinking.
The Doom Slayer received his shotgun from his back inventory. Right hand wrapped around the pistol grip, fingers on his left hand tightly grip the rubberized, polymer pump. Looking back at the breach, his eyes deeply narrowed. He flexes his left arm.
CLICK-CLACK
The Doom Slayer started forward with a sprint. His armor registered a heat bloom behind the wall from his current location. The Slayer's thoughts were focused, the apartments rushed past him in a blur, as he streaked toward the sounds of muffled footfalls.
The Slayer exited the tunnel and leaped towards the titan in front of him. The Slayer collided with said titan, causing a resounding impact. The small titan, with barely a moment to react, was swiftly seized by the head and the Slayer effortlessly detached said head from its body with a casual twist. Disposing of the severed head with a nonchalant toss, he promptly leaped towards the next titan. Employing a bone-crushing kick to the chest, Doom Slayer forcefully toppled yet another titan, subsequently utilizing its body as a means to descend to the ground.
In an unexpected turn of events, a titan measuring ten meters in height swiftly charged towards him from the left flank. Without a moment's hesitation, the valiant Slayer skillfully launched a grenade into the wide-open mouth of the titan. In a matter of mere seconds, the titan's head violently burst apart, resulting in a truly gruesome spectacle of blood and gore.
Retrieving his shotgun from its resting place upon his back, Doom Slayer aimed it directly at the head of another titan, upon which he now stood. The discharge of potent buck shells resulted in the titan's head disintegrating into a crimson mist, yet the Slayer's endeavors were far from over. He deftly swung his weapon around, obliterating another titan with a grenade launcher at its gaping maw. Mere seconds later, the head exploded in a gruesome display of blood and gore.
The Doom Slayer scanned his surroundings and found himself surrounded by countless titans. Right hand wrapped around the pistol grip, fingers on his left hand tightly grip the rubberized, polymer pump. Looking back at the towering monsters surrounding him, he flexes his left arm.
CLICK-CLACK
The Underground city was initially constructed with the intention of providing a secure haven and additional space for the Walled world, which faced limitations in outward expansion. However, residing underground presented numerous drawbacks, such as the absence of sunlight, resulting in the impairment and inefficiency of individuals' lower limbs. Consequently, the less populous segment of society was compelled to inhabit the underground, while being denied access to the surface without proper citizenship. The remaining inhabitants of the walled population ultimately relinquished the notion of subterranean dwelling, leaving it to the more economically disadvantaged individuals.
Everyone lived their lives one day at a time. A good portion of those days are uneventful, always falling into the same routine: they wake up, walk to work, work, walk home, then sleep. Every so often, something new and interesting happens: a person becomes sick, or someone else dies, or maybe there is a great fire or an earthquake.
Living in a dying underground city isn't very fun or interesting. Most of the houses are sagging, the businesses sit empty and abandoned, and many people have no hope of ever living in comfort again. That is why the Underground is the last place that most would want to be. Everyone who lives here is miserable, trapped within their own private hells. No amount of effort by either side could possibly make this situation better.
Something new happened again the next day, one that caught some people's attention: a person from the surface began telling tales of a man, an armored man, who the people of the wall hailed him as, 'the Titan Slayer,' faced down an army of Titans twice at Wall Maria. Ever since this incident occurred, rumors were flying like a storm through the community of the walled people: if it weren't for the Titan Slayer, more lives would've been lost.
The rumors spread from Wall Rose, all the way to Wall Sina. By the time news reached Underground, the people found the story quite unbelievable. A man not using the supports of ODM gear is one thing but a lone man that fought titans, twice, all by themselves, is another matter entirely. People didn't buy into it. So far, nobody had come forward claiming any sort of knowledge that would explain where he came from or how he defeated the titans. They simply accepted it as a rumor, even though it sounded so outlandish. It just was impossible.
Even people in the bars found the story hard to believe too. No one in their right mind would willingly charge towards a legion of titans head on. What was the reason behind this Titan Slayer? Nobody knew. Even the soldiers who had witnessed the Titan Slayer's battle were still baffled, and some refused to speculate further.
But whether the rumors were true or false remained a mystery. Mysteries that would continue to plague one's mind for quite some time; the longer the rumors lingered, the more people began to doubt them. But that didn't stop citizens from the surface talking about it and spreading word to others. Some citizens from both Underground and Wall Rose believe that the story was made up, including the Titan Slayer. No matter how hard they tried to convince them, their minds always kept returning to one topic: If there really was a Titan Slayer fighting Titans, a man who saved many innocent lives, where was he in their midst?
Why hadn't he shown up a-hundred years earlier? Why hadn't he arrived sooner? Who are they? Where did they come from? Are there more people like him?
No one knows.
But these questions proceeded to plaque Fritz's mind.
Fritz Meyer was sitting at a booth in his favorite bar, The Corner of the Street. He was a lean and muscular German man in his mid-twenties, with jet black hair tied in a ponytail. His attire consists of black trousers, a gray shirt adorned with string tassels at the collar, a coat of black hue, and unadorned gray shoes. He had a half pint of beer in front of him, looking down into its depths as though deep in thought. His hair and beard were shaggy, and his eyes held a distant glint. The other customers looked bored out of their minds. In short, he appeared to be a rather lonely man.
Fritz didn't mind loneliness. He'd long gotten used to it. And while he didn't exactly enjoy his company, he preferred it that way. He didn't need friends. After all, what use were friends when all you got was solitude? He never needed anyone to talk to. Fritz had never met a single person that could relate to him. They were all just too dumb. Fritz never wanted to meet someone like that. Fritz liked to keep things simple.
He was interrupted from his introspection by a sudden burst of laughter. At first, Fritz assumed it was coming from someone sitting nearby, until it became clear that it was actually coming from across the room. Fritz looked up and spotted a group consisting of five men sitting at one of the tables near the back corner of the establishment. They seemed to be having a conversation over something, laughing and occasionally slapping each other on the back.
He averted his gaze from them and delicately sipped from the beer, feeling the sharpness of its taste. The familiar sensation brought him solace; it was preferable to enduring their aimless chatter. Fritz gently placed the glass on the table and rested his elbows upon it. He continued to gaze vacantly into the void, hoping that eventually they would cease their discourse.
Fritz pondered, stroking his beard. He was not one to vocalize his opinions, but he found the assumptions made by the surface dwellers regarding the Titan Slayer to be preposterous. Fritz could not concur with the notion held by a certain faction that the Titan Slayer was, to put it mildly, a celestial avenger. An angelic, armored warrior sent to save humanity from the clutches of the Titans.
No, Fritz disagreed vehemently with these claims.
And why should I agree with these lies? Fritz thought to himself, taking another sip of his beer. They're simply ridiculous!
Fritz took another biting gulp of his beer.
His thoughts drifted to the memories of his beloved wife, Anna. She had passed away eight months ago due to complications of her illness, leaving Fritz alone to deal with the pain of losing his wife. Her death left a gaping hole in his life where her presence once resided.
He had only recently begun to move past the initial grief of Anna's passing. He had not yet moved on completely. Simply probing the memory of her death made Fritz push the beer against his lips and drink like his life depended on it. His addiction stemmed from a desire to distract himself from the pain. The physical act served as a form of distraction, giving Fritz focus and an opportunity to forget about the sadness that plagued his soul.
He could drink, and he could numb his mind with alcohol. But the emptiness inside of him wouldn't be assuaged so easily. It ate away at Fritz, slowly consuming him from the inside out.
Fritz closed his eyes, trying his best to block out his thoughts, which were starting to cloud over with fatigue. He didn't even notice the man approaching his table until the latter spoke.
"Yo, Fritz."
Fritz gently opened his eyes, finding himself face to face with his acquaintance, Kenny Ackerman. Kenny possessed shoulder-length brown hair, adorned with sideburns, and a thin beard that traced along his jawline. His piercing gray eyes, framed by crow's feet, exuded a captivating intensity. Despite his middle-age years, Kenny's tall and slender frame maintained an athletic build, allowing him to remain as nimble and strong as individuals half his age.
His attire consisted of a modest white shirt, elegantly complemented by a black vest, black pants, and a distinguished dark fedora hat. Completing his ensemble was a stylish black trench coat. As his lips curved into a broad, yet enigmatic grin, Fritz couldn't help but be captivated by Kenny's presence.
"You're late," Fritz commented, placing the glass on the table.
Kenny snorted. "Late? What're you talking about? I'm never late."
"That remains to be seen, Kenny." Fritz said, smirking.
Kenny laughed, "Well well, it looks like the great Fritz Meyer has already become acquainted with my arrival," He replied, leaning against the edge of the table. "How long have we known each other now, huh? Two days, weeks, months, years? I lost count."
Fritz shook his head. "We haven't spoken for months now."
Kenny grinned mischievously. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, and you know why."
"Do I?" Kenny asked. "Why don't you enlighten me?"
"Don't patronize me, Kenny. You know exactly what I mean."
"Okay, okay." Kenny chuckled, his hands held up in mock surrender. "I guess I do."
"You better." Fritz remarked curtly, turning his attention back to his drink. He took a large swig from it before asking, "So, how are things going out there on the surface? Have you found any new information about Historia and Frieda's whereabouts?"
Kenny leaned back in his chair and exhaled deeply. "We couldn't find any, at first. But what I know is that my sources told me that they were taken, unbeknownst to anyone, at the exact same time Wall Maria fell."
"Hmm…" Fritz frowned and rubbed his chin. "And where the hell was Rod Reiss when this incident occurred?"
Kenny waved him off with a hand. "Bah, he was out doing business with officials, as usual of him."
"And what about Historia and Frieda? Where you able to pinpoint where the captors had taken them?"
"Well, my sources have done some digging around, and apparently the two are being held at a location off of Paradis. It's an unknown island approximately one mile from ours. Neither I or my sources know what's on said island, but one thing's for certain: Those girls are there."
Fritz furrowed his brow, trying to digest his acquaintance words. "You plan on taking your team over there?"
"Nah, I'm not dragging my team through a mission with ignorance. That's no way to run operations. We won't be going over there without knowing more than what our intel tells us. Besides, the last thing I want is to lead my team into danger that we were not prepared for."
"I see." Fritz murmured. "Then what's your plan?"
"I've got some of my buddies on standby. Our objective will be to see what to expect once we barge in, one team will get inside hidden from the enemies line of sight while the second team push forward and kill as many bastards that come at us.."
Fritz nodded and then asked, "And if it fails?"
"Oh trust me, it won't. There's just one thing missing for our plan to work; the Titan Slayer."
Fritz sighed heavily, running his free hand across his scalp. "Damnit, Kenny, you can't be serious. He's not real."
"I beg to differ Fritz." Kenny countered, smiling confidently.
"I've seen too much crap for you to prove otherwise." Fritz argued.
Silence descended upon the table as both occupants stared at each other, both refusing to budge. Fritz pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved an exasperated sigh while shaking his head. Kenny sat there, his fingers intertwined behind his head, waiting patiently, awaiting his response.
"Okay, okay," Fritz began with a weary voice. "Let's say I believe you; believing you that this 'Titan Slayer,' and all the rumors that are said about him are true, how are you going to find him? How do you know he'll help us?"
Kenny smiled triumphantly and stood up from the table. He tipped his fedora at Fritz. "You let me worry about that."
Kenny rolled his body around and strolled towards the door. Fritz watched in silence as Kenny pushed the wooden doors open. With a casual wave of his right arm and a smirk on his lips, Kenny disappeared from sight.
Eren Yeager's eyes shot open. His eyelids fluttered rapidly, sending waves of disorientation throughout his senses. His head pounded mercilessly; the pounding reverberated in his skull with every heartbeat. The room around him remained a foggy blur, making Eren unable to make sense of its shapes and colors. He blinked several times, attempting to clear his vision, only for the scene around him to grow blurry again.
With a groan, Eren utilizes the dexterity of his right side, endeavoring to elevate himself by means of his elbow. He brought his hand up and gently rubbed his temples; causing the pounding in his head to fade into a dull ache. His eyes focused, allowing him to discern his surroundings.
"Eren. Are you okay?"
Eren glanced up to see Mikasa crouched next to him. He closed his eyes and moaned, enduring a small ache of pain lingering in his head. Eren shook his head; he dimly hoped the dream he had wouldn't resurface again. What was it about?
"You were having a nightmare again." Mikasa stated, tilting her head while looking at him with concern.
"I feel like I just saw dad…it felt so real.." Eren muttered, rubbing his temples.
"No. You were dreaming, that's all."
"Oh…"
Eren blinked. He looked around and found himself in a wide, spacious, empty room. Kinda similar to the last one Eren woke up in back in Wall Maria. He returned his gaze to Mikasa.
"Did they leave to get us some food again?" Eren asked.
Mikasa got up on her feet and looked down at Eren.
"Yes. Your mom told me to wake you up before she left." Mikasa replied. "Come on. They're handing out food rations within the warehouse."
Eren glanced down at his chest. He found a golden key, the one he vaguely remembered his father holding, wrapped around his neck akin to a necklace. He gently adjusted said key and shoved under his shirt, almost without thinking. Eren slowly lifted himself up off the ground. He followed Mikasa towards the light leaking in through the mouth of an entrance. The sun's rays assaulted him, prompting him to instinctively shield his eyes.
After his eyes had adjusted, he discovered that they were situated outside the warehouse. A considerable number of individuals, representing diverse genders, were meandering along different paths. Members of the Garrison Regiment were engaged in conversations with one another, while some were distributing the limited amount of food they possessed.
"Apparently this was their food storehouse. They've gathered all the boat refugees here." Mikasa stated, stopping beside Eren.
Eren shifted his gaze upon hearing a struggle and saw two grown men wrestling over a bag. Eren deduced that there might be food in there, which would make sense as to why they're fighting. They weren't too far from Eren to hear them shouting.
"Hey! Get in line, will ya?!"
"Shut up! I haven't eaten anything since last night!"
Mikasa frowned at the sight. "We can't say we've survived just yet."
"Eren! Mikasa!"
The pair turned their gaze to see Armin approaching them with a genuine smile.
"Armin…" Eren acknowledged under his breath.
"Here! Just in time! Your mom and my grandpa got us some by saying it was for children!" Armin said, handing out bread to his two friends.
Mikasa nodded with a small smile. "Thank you."
Mikasa chomped a bite of her bread then swallowed it down. Before Eren could chomp a mouthful of his, he glanced up in time to see a soldier glaring at the trio with contempt. The soldier clicked his tongue and turned away into the depths of the crowd.
"What's his problem?" Eren questioned, his eyes narrowed.
Armin turned his gaze at him.
"You can't blame him. There's probably not enough food to go around. And that's an entire day's worth," Armin pointed out. "There are just too many refugees. There was already a food shortage going on, plus the people here aren't treated as well as citizens on the outer wall."
"Why should we hafta give our food to some lousy outsiders?"
The trio turned their attention to the soldier that left earlier. His lips curled into a smug smirk and his hands placed on his hips. The soldier shifted his gaze to a few individuals walking along the area.
"If the Titans got through the wall, they could've at least eaten some more people, if you ask me!" The man barked. "It'll just save them a lot of trouble."
Several people glared at him before they started walking away with grumbling voices. Armin and Mikasa were shocked and disgusted by his words, though neither of them voiced those sentiments to the soldier. Eren glared at the soldier with disgust, and he didn't have any qualms about doing exactly that either.
Eren gritted his teeth and shoulder passed Armin as he marched towards the soldier. He ignored Armin's call of his name as he made his way towards the soldier. His brow furrowed, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"This is just gonna make the food shortage even worse." The man remarked, unconcerned with the fact that Eren was getting closer and closer. He chuckled loudly. "Just imagine what else they'd want to eat!"
As soon as Eren was in close proximity to the man, he kicked the soldier by the knee. The man shouted in pain and glared down at his assailant. His hands clenched into a tight ball.
"What the hell?! You damn kid!" The man shouted, and punched Eren in the face, knocking him out of balance. His squad-mate followed up by kicking the assailant to the ground.
Eren glared back at the two soldiers with sheer contempt.
"You don't know what it's like! You've never even seen it!" Eren shouted as tears welled up in his eyes. "You've never seen what the Titans do to people!"
The man's fist tightened and took a step forward. "Shut up!"
"Wait!"
Out of nowhere Carla Yeager stood In between the soldier and Eren. Her arms
spread and her stance seemed confident.
"My son's just hungry and irritable!" She yelled defensively, her expression hardened. "Please forgive him, he's just a boy!"
The man looked up at Carla with an uneasy expression. He stared back at Eren's crumpled figure then sighed in defeat. He shifted his gaze back at Carla.
"It's 'cause of us that you guys aren't starving to death, you know!" The soldier barked. "Even you kids oughta be thankful to us!"
Carla watched the two men turning away into the crowd, grumbling among themselves. She exhaled sharply; feeling relief wash through her body at being able to defend her son. She turned her gaze towards Eren. Eren sat on the ground, his eyes glaring at the aforementioned ground, his hands clenched.
"Screw him," Eren murmured with sheer contempt. "I'm not about to show gratitude to a coward…"
Eren glanced up at his mother and blinked in surprise. Carla's eyes looked puffy and red as though she had recently shed a tear or two. Despite her appearance, she maintained a fierce glare. Before Eren could utter a word, Carla grabbed him by the hand and led him, Mikasa, and Armin back into the warehouse. After Armin had explained to Carla what happened, silence reigned in.
Said silence was broken by Eren grunting.
"That does it, I'm going back. To Wall Maria! I'm going to destroy every last Titan!" Eren stated, grabbing his mother, Mikasa, and Armin's attention.
Armin smiled. "Eren... You're not being serious, are you?"
"I'm serious!" Eren shouted, glaring at Armin. "I'm not like those guys who do nothing but act tough inside the walls! I don't need this crap!"
Eren throws the bread at Armin. Armin lost a bit of balance but catches himself before adjusting his grip on the bread. Carla glared at her son.
"Eren! You'll starve to death!" Carla protested, her face contorted with anger.
"Doesn't it bother you at all?! It's because we take everyone's charity that we can't beat the Titans!" Eren retorted, glaring at the trio.
"It's impossible! There is no beating them!" Armin argued firmly. "All we can do is live inside the walls! If we try anything, we'll die! Just like my mom and dad!"
"So you're just gonna grovel to them then?!" Eren snapped back angrily. "That's not shameful of you?!"
"Eren that's enough!" Carla interjected, putting a firm hand on her son's shoulder.
There was silence once again. Eren glowered at the ground beneath his feet.
"If you wanna live like livestock forever, go ahead. You wimp." Eren muttered under his breath, causing fee gasps from Carla and Armin.
"If Armin's a wimp, then so are we."
The trio redirected their attention to Mikasa. Mikasa narrowed her eyes at Eren in defiance. She took a step forward towards Eren until she stopped right in front of him.
"Whether it was running from the Titans or fleeing the town, we didn't manage anything on our own." Mikasa stated matter of factly. "There's no way such powerless people can defeat even a single one of those Titans."
Eren turned his head away from Mikasa; his frown deepened.
"Pride be damned we do what we must to live. The Titan Slayer didn't save us just so we could be brave."
Carla gently took the bread out of Armin's hand, took Eren's hand in hers, and placed the bread in his palm.
"Eat."
He stared at the bread for several seconds before he looked up at her. Carla kept her gaze steady.
"It isn't going to help your hunger if you keep holding onto this grudge, sweetie," Carla said. "The Titan Slayer saved us just so we could live, live to see another day. Don't let his actions go to waste."
Eren clenched his jaw shut and turned his head away from Carla. He didn't say anything in response to his mother's advice, and he stayed quiet after that.
He chomped a bite of his bread and swallowed down.
Several days after the Shiganshina incident, the throngs of refugees were tasked with cultivating the wastelands to secure food. However, a food shortage was unavoidable. So, in the following year of 846, the central government sent a multitude of refugees on a mission in the name of retaking Wall Maria. Of the 250,000 sent... nearly 20% of the population; only 200 returned with some shocking news.
When they arrived at the wall, they were shocked to find no titans in the vicinity, in or outside of the wall. Not even a sign of one. They searched high and low, but to no avail. No titans were spotted. Even the breaches were sealed. Everyone was enthralled with this unexpected turn of events, and their morale soared tremendously, as well as their hope for victory. As a result, their efforts improved the food shortage situation for the rest of the population. So while 200 marched back to Wall Rose, the rest stayed behind to begin their 3 year reconstruction of Wall Maria.
However, there was one thing that kept probing everyone's minds. The disappearance of their savior, the Titan Slayer. Many of the refugees that were forced to tag along were hoping to see the Titan Slayer again. Some wanted to talk to the Titan Killer, others wanted to meet the so-called savior for themselves. But upon their arrival, the Titan Slayer was nowhere to be found.
It left many to wonder wherever their savior went. The rumor mill grew more than ever, with each day that passed, spreading further and further. As life proceeded on in peace, people were still In wonderment over the mysterious Titan Slayer's absence, wondering where he went.
But his whereabouts remained unknown.
To be continued.
A/N: Feels nice to be back writing another chapter for this story. We have now enter arc two based by the title of this chapter, "Two Royals," whom involves two characters you guys may or may not already be familiar with. I also read some comments that said along the lines of, 'not used of DG being referred by name instead of his titles.' So just to make this easy for some readers, for now on whenever he has his helmet on he's the Doom Slayer, but when he doesn't have his helmet on he's William J. Blazkowicz. Kind of like how Peter Parker dons his spider-suit. With all of that said, I'll be taking my leave. See you all at the next chapter young readers!