Attack on Titan: A Wolf Among Sheep
Chapter 9: Thor and The Reunion
…
The day dawned over Stohess District to the bustle of Military Police distributing fliers for the arrest of the Scout Regiment. Jean Kirschtein, his brow furrowed in worry, took one of the pieces of paper before he, along with Armin Arlelt and Mikasa Ackermann, left the heart of the city for their hidden camp in the woods. The proclamation bore an illustration of Petra's face, and beneath it, a long list of charges related to 'matters of state' involving Fenrir.
Back at the camp, Armin relayed their disturbing findings to Levi. "The word on the streets is that the Scouts are to be disbanded. The Military Police are covering all the roads leading in and out of the districts. They're looking for us... and for Petra."
He held out the flier for Levi to see, his finger pointing to the part that accused Fenrir of being in league with the Titan shifters. "They're circulating stories about Fenrir. Claims of him being in cahoots with the Titans, and even weirder, of wolf sightings... People disappearing in the night."
Levi, taking the flier from Armin, scanned it briefly, a grim smile twisting his features. "Well, it seems they fear Fenrir just as much as they do Eren."
The revelation hung heavy in the air, casting a somber mood over the gathered Scouts. Eren, ever the hot-headed, was the first to break the silence, pounding his fist against a nearby tree trunk in frustration. "So what if they fear him? Fenrir has been nothing but a help to us!"
Beside him, Historia chimed in, her soft voice laced with steel. "They fear what they don't understand, what they can't control. Just like with Eren... And now Fenrir."
Fenrir's eyes roved over the group, settling briefly on Petra. His countenance was as calm as ever, but a new depth of sorrow had crept into his gaze. "They fear the unknown," he said simply. "I suppose I can't fault them for that."
Petra, standing a little ways off, took a moment to process the gravity of their situation. Her gaze locked with Fenrir's, and she found herself echoing Historia's sentiments. "They can't control you, Fenrir, and that scares them. But we know you. You're not the monster they're painting you out to be."
Levi's gaze hardened, determination flaring in his eyes. "Right now, our priority is to stay safe and remain unseen. If they're as scared as we think they are, they'll make a move soon. We just need to be ready when they do."
As the others nodded in agreement, a new sense of resolve filled the air. Their path was not going to be easy, but they were not going to back down.
Before any further words could be exchanged, Fenrir's head snapped up, his nostrils flaring as he picked up a scent. Almost at the same time, Sasha's ears perked up, her hand raising in a signal for silence.
"Footsteps," Fenrir and Sasha said simultaneously, their words overlapping in the quiet forest.
All conversation ceased as the others froze, senses heightened as they listened for the telltale sounds of approaching danger. Even the smallest noise could be a threat in their current situation, and they all knew it. Tension gripped them, their collective breaths held in anticipation.
…
In their search for members of the Scout Regiment, Hitch Dreyse and Marlo Freudenberg found themselves venturing into the nearby forest of the Stohess District. There they stumbled upon Armin Arlelt, quietly collecting water from a stream, seemingly oblivious to the danger he was in.
But before they could react, the forest fell eerily silent. A chill ran down their spines, a feeling of foreboding creeping over them. Out of the quietude, a black wolf stepped out into the clearing. Its piercing green eyes focused on Hitch and Marlo, emanating an unsettling aura of dominance.
And as if on cue, Levi and Mikasa emerged from the shadows. Like specters of death, they materialized beside the two Military Police officers, their swords pressed menacingly against their throats. Hitch and Marlo froze, their bravado evaporating instantly in the face of the real, deadly threat.
As Levi and his squad relieved Hitch and Marlo of their gear, a tense silence hung in the air. What were the scouts going to do with them? The fear was evident in their eyes.
In her fear, Hitch lashed out. "All this is because of you! Because of that monstrous wolf! Because of Fenrir! Dozens of innocent lives were lost in Stohess, including my friend Annie!"
Fenrir, still in his wolf form, locked his gaze with Hitch. His voice resonated through the quiet forest, startling both Hitch and Marlo. "Annie was the Female Titan."
The revelation left both Hitch and Marlo shocked. Not only was their former comrade a titan, but they were also within feet of the terrifying wolf from Stohess.
Levi, disturbed by the ignorance of those outside the government, turned to Fenrir. "What do we do with them?"
Fenrir, shifting back to his human form, approached the disarmed Hitch and Marlo. His gaze fixed on them, he asked, "Do you even know what the government was planning to do with Eren and Historia?"
His words hung in the air, the reality of their implications setting in. The government they served intended to transform Historia into a Titan, and then feed Eren to her. "That is the reality of the government you serve. That's who you're really working for," Fenrir said, leaving both Hitch and Marlo shocked and lost for words.
"Why?! Why would they do that?!" Hitch's words rang out in the silence of the forest, mirroring the confusion and horror mirrored in Marlo's eyes.
Fenrir turned his gaze back to her, his expression serious. "The first king who lived in the capital...was a titan shifter. He passed that ability down to his descendants."
He let the words sink in, the implications beginning to dawn on their faces. "Doesn't it make you question why they've been doing nothing about it? Perhaps, in their minds, this was true peace. They weren't willing to do anything about it."
He continued to explain, deepening their understanding of the cryptic world they lived in, "And that, in essence, is how new Titan shifters are born. A human must first be turned into a Titan, then devour a previous Titan shifter. But those of similar blood, they are bound by the will of the first King."
Their faces were a mix of horror, disbelief, and the dawning realization of truth. The world they had known was being pulled apart, only to be put back together in a far more frightening way.
With a few swift motions, Fenrir untied Hitch and Marlo, freeing them from their bounds. He then stepped back, giving them space and the freedom to make their choice.
"You can go... or stay," Fenrir stated evenly. "The choice is yours." His tone was indifferent, yet resolute, making it clear that the decision lay entirely in their hands. The truth had been laid bare for them, and now they had to decide what they wanted to do with it.
…
The tension was palpable as Hitch and Marlo guided Squad Levi towards the most leniently guarded checkpoint. Once they arrived, Fenrir thanked them, urging them to return to their posts before their absence drew any suspicion. As they readied themselves for the next phase of their mission, an ominous sense of foreboding began to pervade the atmosphere.
The sky was darkening quickly, with the distant rumble of thunder echoing ominously. Everyone paused, their attention suddenly drawn away from their plans. Fenrir's demeanor shifted drastically, his usually calm and composed face painted with genuine fear and anxiety. "No...! Not them! Not now!" His words echoed ominously in the now still forest, his green eyes reflecting the approaching storm with a deep-rooted dread.
The sight of Fenrir, their stoic and unflappable leader, so visibly disturbed, sent a wave of shock through the group. Petra, who had always admired and respected his composure, was taken aback, her blue eyes widening in concern. The rest of the squad shared her sentiment, their expressions mirroring her surprise and growing worry.
Ymir, on the other hand, was deep in thought, her eyes narrowing as she tried to calculate what or who could have caused such a reaction in Fenrir. She thought back to the stories he had shared about the Aesir who had imprisoned him for thousands of years. If they were the ones he was afraid of, then the danger they were facing was far greater than they had anticipated.
The air charged with electricity as the intensity of the storm escalated, with bolts of lightning slashing across the sky like livid scars. The force was so intense that trees around them were hit, their trunks shattering and splintering under the raw power of the electric surge. The ground beneath them rumbled, trembling in response to the sky's fury.
Suddenly, a peculiar sound cut through the cacophony of the storm - the bleating of goats. The sound seemed entirely out of place amid the chaos of the tempest, yet it filled the air, growing louder and more resonant, echoing ominously throughout the forest. The inexplicable nature of the noise added another layer of fear and uncertainty to the already tense situation, causing the members of Squad Levi to glance at each other in confusion and unease.
Chaos erupted at the checkpoint up ahead. A blinding flash of lightning tore through the sky, illuminating the area with stark intensity. Then, with a deafening crash, a figure plummeted from the sky, smashing into the ground. The impact sent a shockwave tearing through the air, sending everyone within its reach sprawling.
Rising from the dust and debris stood a colossal figure, a man that seemed more mountain than human. His stature was towering, his muscular frame chiseled and imposing. Dressed in weathered leather armor adorned with intricate Norse designs, he wielded a massive hammer in his hand. His hair was as red as a fiery sunset, a striking contrast to the wild storm around him, and his eyes held the electric blue fury of the storm.
Fenrir, who had been staring at the figure with a mixture of dread and disbelief, finally found his voice. "Thor..." he whispered, his voice carrying a note of fear that was alien to it. His eyes never left the god of thunder, a god from the myths and legends of a bygone era.
In response, the trees around them began to crack, as if unable to withstand the raw, elemental power of the figure. The once calm and serene forest was now a theater of mayhem, a witness to the arrival of a force beyond human comprehension.
…
Thor's gaze fell upon Fenrir, his ice-blue eyes narrowing slightly. The god of thunder studied the transformed Fenrir with a mix of curiosity and surprise. "So... you mastered shapeshifting... huh?" His voice rumbled like thunder, powerful and resonating through the air. His gaze remained locked onto Fenrir, as if challenging him with his stare.
The others were just as taken aback by the newcomer, their expressions ranging from shock to disbelief. They exchanged quick, wary glances, their tension palpable. The tension that filled the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Levi tightened his grip on his sword, his gaze darting between Thor and Fenrir, trying to make sense of the surreal situation. Mikasa and Armin were speechless, their eyes wide with awe and fear. Petra's heart pounded in her chest, and she unconsciously reached for Fenrir, a sense of dread washing over her.
Ymir stood a little further away, her eyes narrowed in thought. She remembered Fenrir's tales of the Aesir who had imprisoned him, the gods of his homeland. Seeing one of them in the flesh was an unsettling experience. There was power in Thor, a kind of power she had never seen before, and it frightened her.
"What... do you want, Thor?" Fenrir growled, his eyes never leaving the thunder god's face.
Thor laughed, a sound as booming as a thunderclap. "What do I want, mutt?" He grinned, his white teeth gleaming against his sunburned skin. "You think you can come here, play the hero, become a lover to a mortal? No... You're a destroyer, just like me."
His gaze flickered to Petra, his grin widening. "Your sister already disrupted the balance by reviving your dead lover through that woman over there." His finger pointed towards Petra, causing the Scout Regiment members to stiffen and Petra's eyes to widen in shock.
"But why am I here?" Thor continued, turning his attention back to Fenrir. His grin faded, replaced by a look of serious determination. "War is in our blood, Fenrir. You know it, I know it, and the Allfather knows it. I didn't come here for a chat. I came here for a fight, for a war. So, what do you say, Fenrir? Ready to dance the dance of war once more?" His eyes gleamed with a lust for battle, his stance ready, anticipating Fenrir's response.
…
Jean Kirschtein's reaction was immediate. His eyes widened in shock as he stared at the towering figure, having heard nothing of gods and legends before this. His mind was reeling, his breath catching in his throat as he glanced over at Fenrir, clearly at unease with the man's words.
Mikasa Ackermann, as stoic as ever, kept her composure. Her dark eyes darted between Fenrir and the unfamiliar entity, her grip on her swords tightening. Eren was in her line of sight, a constant reminder of who she needed to protect. But even she couldn't deny the shiver of unease traveling down her spine.
Eren himself was visibly taken aback. The confusion was evident in his wide eyes as they bounced between Fenrir and the new arrival. Absurdity would be an understatement to describe his current situation, but he felt something else too, a sense of impending danger.
Armin Arlelt was a flurry of mixed emotions. Fear and curiosity warred within him as his blue eyes scrutinized the towering figure. The scholar in him yearned for answers, while the strategist knew that their safety was currently hanging by a thread.
Hitch and Marlo were utterly shell-shocked. Barely acclimatizing to the knowledge of gods and mythical beings, they now found themselves in the presence of one. Hitch's fingers clung to Marlo's hand, rare given her character, but granted given the situation they were all in, her fear nearly tangible. Marlo, despite his own shock, offered a reassuring squeeze.
Ymir's expression was a strange blend of annoyance and fear. Arms folded across her chest, she leaned back, a smug scowl playing on her lips as she glanced at Thor. However, there was concern evident on her cavalier facade.
Historia found herself rooted to the spot, eyes fixated on the unfamiliar entity. The concern for Eren and her friends was clear in her gaze, but the uncertainty of the situation brought about a different kind of fear.
Levi, ever the stoic leader, was silent, his sharp gaze studying the scene before him. His hand rested lightly on his sword, ready to leap into action at the first sign of danger. There was a hint of unease in his eyes as he watched the interaction between Fenrir and the towering stranger.
Sasha Braus could do nothing more than stare in utter disbelief. The situation was overwhelming, the arrival of this mysterious man adding another layer of uncertainty. Her gaze flickered from Fenrir to Petra, and then back to the intimidating figure.
Similarly, Connie Springer was left wide-eyed and speechless. The scene before him was beyond comprehension. He felt a deep sense of unease, his usually jovial expression replaced with one of confusion and fear.
…
The air was thick with tension, their surroundings echoing the unease within the group. Every individual was in uncharted territory now, and the interaction between Fenrir and the red-haired figure served as a stark reminder of the dangers they were facing.
The words left Fenrir's lips, resolute and unwavering, despite the shakiness of his breaths. The quiet shake of Petra's head seemed to have given him strength. He refused. He refused to fight, to take part in whatever game this man, this god- Thor - was playing.
"No…. I refuse…."
A moment of tense silence passed, Thor just watching Fenrir with a scrutinizing gaze before shrugging nonchalantly. Turning his back to the group, Thor began to walk away, muttering under his breath something that sounded eerily like 'damn time'.
And then, without a single warning, Thor turned on his heels, hurling his enormous hammer towards Fenrir with a force that was beyond comprehension. The blow sent Fenrir hurtling into the sky, the hammer seemingly stuck to him. He grappled with it, desperately trying to pry it off him, but it wouldn't budge.
Electricity crackled and arced around him, leaving a blazing trail in the sky. As the group watched in stunned silence, Thor gave a wide, chilling grin. With a sharp whistle, a chariot pulled by two goats appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Thor climbed aboard, his gaze fixed on the airborne Fenrir.
And with that, he took off, his chariot soaring into the sky, following the trail of lightning, leaving the group in shock and disbelief. They were left standing amidst chaos, the echo of Thor's laughter and the crackle of lightning ringing in their ears. The true extent of what they were facing was finally hitting them, and it was overwhelming, to say the least.
…
From Fenrir's Point of View:
The sudden impact of the hammer was disorienting, the force propelling him skywards with a speed he'd never known. The world blurred around him - the distant trees, the squad below becoming tiny specks in a matter of moments, and the horizon spinning madly. It was as if he was caught in a maelstrom of electricity and power, the energy of the hammer binding him, leaving him with a feeling of helplessness.
But amidst the chaos, his mind remained sharp. Thoughts raced faster than the wind rushing past him. Memories of legends and myths tied to the very being that had done this to him. Thor. The thunder god. The irony of it all wasn't lost on Fenrir. He, a being of immense strength and power, now found himself at the mercy of the very myths he was part of.
He braced himself, instinctively knowing that what goes up must come down. The ground approached with alarming speed, the familiar outline of Trost District growing rapidly in size. There was no time to redirect or change course. With an earth-shattering crash, he collided into the ground, breaking through layers of stone and earth, creating a massive crater in the heart of the town.
Dust and debris filled the air, the aftermath of the impact resonating through the streets. Fenrir lay there, momentarily stunned by the fall. The pain was evident, but so was the anger boiling beneath the surface.
Cautiously, members of the local Military Police approached the rim of the crater, peering down with a mix of fear and curiosity. What they saw was not a broken beast, but a wrathful entity slowly rising. And as if sensing the change in the air, the hammer that had been attached to him suddenly dislodged, flying upwards to the clouds, returning to its master.
Fenrir's eyes, once a calm green, now blazed with a fire of anger. "Thor," he growled, the word dripping with venom. He may have been thrown, beaten momentarily, but he was far from defeated. With a forceful leap, Fenrir launched himself out of the crater, every fiber of his being yearning for revenge.
The streets of Trost District quickly turned into an arena of mythical proportions. As Fenrir emerged from the crater, Thor descended from the sky, landing with another earth-shattering impact a few paces away. The sky roared and flashed, the atmosphere thick with electricity. Thor's red hair seemed to catch fire with every lightning bolt that struck the ground.
Fenrir, although disoriented from the sudden attack, still bore the spirit of a fighter. He lunged at Thor, aiming to land a decisive blow. But Thor, with his millennia of experience, nimbly sidestepped and swung his hammer, Mjölnir, grazing Fenrir's side and sending him crashing into a nearby building.
"You think you can hide from who you truly are?" Thor taunted, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Show me the beast, Fenrir. Embrace your nature."
Fenrir, now even more enraged, retaliated with a ferocity that seemed to shake the very foundations of the district. Buildings were obliterated, streets were torn up, and the ground seemed to quake with every move they made.
As the battle raged on, Thor seemed to be in control. Each of Fenrir's attacks, no matter how powerful, were parried or deflected. But it was evident that Thor was not aiming to defeat Fenrir outright. Instead, he seemed more focused on pushing him, prodding him, and poking at his very soul.
In short, he was trying to size him up.
The taunts continued, "You can't run from your past, Fenrir. You're a creature of destruction, just like me. Accept it!"
Every word from Thor's mouth seemed to drive Fenrir closer to the edge. The pain from the battle combined with the mental assault was starting to take its toll. Fenrir's form began to shift, the wolf within him fighting to break free.
Thor's laughter echoed amidst the chaos, "That's it! Show me!"
With Fenrir now in his immense 15 meter wolf form, the scope of the battle grew exponentially. Each clash between the two sent tremors throughout the district. Fenrir, with his wolf's agility, lunged and snapped at Thor, trying to land a decisive blow. But Thor, using the might of Mjölnir, countered effectively. At one point, with a wide swing of his hammer, Thor smashed Fenrir's head into a building, causing it to collapse upon him.
But the wolf, determined and driven by anger, continued to rise and fight, even as Thor's blows tore through his flesh and fur. Buildings crumbled, and streets were uprooted in their wake. The sheer force of their fight was unlike anything the world of Attack on Titan had witnessed before.
As Fenrir sustained more and more damage, he began to revert back to his human form. A bloody and bruised Fenrir still lunged at Thor, showcasing his unyielding spirit. But when Thor was thrown into a bread shop, eerily reminiscent of where Fen's beloved Lilia had once worked, something within Fenrir snapped completely. His yell, filled with anguish and anger, resonated throughout the district.
"WHY WON'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME BE?!"
With this cry, the very air seemed to thunder, and the sky flashed wildly, reflecting the turmoil within Fenrir's heart. They exchanged blow after blow, neither willing to give an inch. The intensity of their fight reached its zenith, with Fenrir, in his human form, matching the god's strength.
As Thor prepared to deliver what could be considered a blow that would shatter a mountain, a figure darted between them. Hange, with her arms outstretched and face contorted in desperation, shielded Fenrir.
"PLEASE!" she pleaded, her voice hoarse and desperate, "Please, don't you see? He doesn't want to do this. He doesn't want to fight you!"
The battle's fury paused for a moment. Thor, with Mjölnir raised, looked from Hange to Fenrir, gauging the scene before him. The district around them was in ruins, evidence of the destruction wrought by their conflict. The outcome of the battle now rested on a knife's edge.
Thor, though momentarily halted by Hange's intervention, looked at her with a piercing gaze, his grip on Mjölnir unyielding. "Why would you defend that mutt?" he questioned, a hint of genuine curiosity in his tone. "What do you hope to change in the end? Do you truly believe he's not a destroyer?"
Hange, even under Thor's intense scrutiny, remained resolute. Her eyes never wavered from his as she began her response. "You might see him as just a 'mutt', a creature of destruction, but have you ever stopped to think about why he's been here with us for well over 7,000 years?" she began.
Thor's eyebrows knitted in confusion but Hange continued, "In all those millennia, he's lived among humans, without causing harm. He's seen countless generations of us come and go, lived through countless wars, seen the best and worst of humanity. If he truly was the monster, you paint him to be, don't you think he would've gone on a rampage a long time ago? Wreaked havoc upon us? Sought revenge for what you or anyone else might've done to him?"
Hange took a deep breath, her passion evident. "But he didn't. And do you know why? Because deep down, Fenrir wants what many of us want. A life of peace. A life where he's not seen as a monster or a tool of destruction. He wants to live as a human, with all the joys and sorrows that come with it."
The streets, though filled with destruction, were silent as Hange's words resonated. Thor, for the first time, seemed to truly consider Fenrir, not just as a nemesis from a bygone era, but as a being capable of change and growth. The weight of centuries and untold stories hung heavy in the air. The next move was Thor's.
Thor, the god of thunder, the one whose presence alone commanded both awe and fear, stood motionless, analyzing the figure before him. Amidst the chaos and destruction surrounding them, the sight of Fenrir – a powerful being with a storied past – reduced to such a vulnerable state was jarring.
Fenrir, once a symbol of untamed power and rage, now knelt on the battered streets of Trost, a tear tracing a path down his cheek. His head hung low, surrender evident in every line of his body. He didn't raise his gaze to meet Thor's or make any attempt to defend himself further. All the fight had left him. He simply… wept.
For Thor, it was an image that defied understanding. This wasn't the Fenrir he had known, the mighty creature of legends. This was someone who had been pushed past his limits, who had been tormented beyond endurance. It was a stark reminder that even the most powerful beings have their breaking points.
The streets remained eerily quiet, with only Fenrir's soft sobs echoing amidst the ruins. The scene held a poignancy that seemed to transcend time, a moment where two ancient beings confronted the complexities of their shared history.
There was a depth of pain and exhaustion in Fenrir's demeanor that spoke of millennia of hiding, of trying to fit in, of wanting to be something more than just a legend or a monster. And in that silence, amidst the devastation, the god and the wolf found themselves at a crossroads, a moment that could redefine their age-old enmity.
Thor's gaze shifted from the broken form of Fenrir to Petra, who was now gently cradling him, a mixture of anguish and concern evident on her face. The scene was heart-wrenching. He watched as Fenrir's eyes, filled with pain and resignation, met Petra's comforting ones. The connection between them was so vast, a bond formed over shared trials and an understanding that went beyond words.
Around them, Trost District lay in ruins, smoke rising from the rubble, the aftermath of a battle between gods. But amid that destruction, it wasn't Fenrir who was the harbinger of chaos; it was Thor. The realization weighed heavily on him. In his pursuit of Fenrir, in his quest to confront a perceived enemy, he had become the very thing he accused Fenrir of being - a destroyer.
Taking a deep breath, Thor silently acknowledged the profound shift in Fenrir. Time, experiences, and love had reshaped the once-feared beast into someone who wanted peace, who yearned to be human, to belong. It was a transformation that Thor had failed to see until now.
Not knowing how to feel, Thor turned towards his chariot, which was still hovering in the air, pulled by his two magnificent goats. Without another word, he climbed aboard, casting one last lingering look at the scene below. The winds picked up, and with a powerful thrust, the chariot rose, cutting through the stormy clouds.
Then, he disappeared into the said clouds.
The dust settled, the echoes of the battle fading into a profound silence. Squad Levi, along with their friends and allies, slowly emerged from their hiding spots, taking in the devastation around them. The streets of Trost were unrecognizable, the once familiar buildings now lying in ruins. Yet, amidst the chaos, a small circle had formed around Fenrir and Petra, creating a protective barrier.
Mikasa approached cautiously, her eyes darting between Fenrir and the departing form of Thor in the distance. "Is he...?" she began, but her voice trailed off, unsure of what she was even asking.
Eren knelt beside Fenrir, his fingers lightly brushing the older man's face. "He's alive," Eren whispered with relief, "but he's taken a beating."
Hange, still in shock from her encounter with Thor, said, "We need to get him out of here. The townspeople will be scared and confused, and they might misinterpret what just happened."
Levi nodded, his face a stoic mask, but his eyes betrayed his concern. "Armin, Jean, Connie - help clear a path. Sasha, gather any supplies you can find. We need to get to safety."
Armin, with his strategic mind, quickly chimed in, "We should head to the old Garrison outpost on the outskirts. It's defensible and remote. We can regroup there."
As the group moved into action, Historia and Ymir approached the injured Fenrir. Historia's gentle fingers wiped away the tear tracks on his face, while Ymir murmured words of comfort.
Jean, while helping clear the path, remarked to Connie, "I never thought I'd see the day when a God would walk among us."
Connie, in his usual light-hearted way, replied, "And I never thought I'd see Fenrir, of all people, show that kind of emotion."
Amidst the chatter and activity, Petra held Fenrir close, her voice soft and soothing. "It's over now," she whispered. "You're safe."
In the midst of destruction and confusion, there was an unspoken understanding among the members of Squad Levi and their allies. They had witnessed the raw power and emotion of deities, but they also understood the strength of humanity. The bonds they shared, the compassion and resilience they displayed, were their greatest strengths. And in the face of gods and monsters, it was this humanity that would guide them forward.
…
The old Garrison outpost stood silent and forlorn against the evening sky, a relic from a time before the walls. As Squad Levi approached, the building seemed even more desolate in contrast to the recent chaos they'd endured.
However, as they neared, a solitary figure emerged from the shadows. The tall, slender man with graying hair looked oddly out of place amidst the ruins. His familiar face brought a rush of memories and emotions to Historia. It was her father, Rod Reiss.
The group halted, their postures instantly defensive. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin exchanged worried glances, remembering the role Rod Reiss had played in the coup and the secrets of the walls.
Fenrir, sensing the tension, stepped forward, placing himself between the squad and Rod. His eyes bore into the older man, trying to discern his intentions.
Rod raised his hands slowly, showing he was unarmed. "I mean no harm," he began. "I came alone."
Levi's sharp gaze didn't waver. "Why are you here?"
Rod looked towards Historia, his eyes softening. "I came to speak to my daughter. There are... things she must know."
Hange, her voice dripping with skepticism, replied, "You expect us to believe that? After everything you've done?"
Rod's gaze remained on Historia. "I understand your reservations. I have made grave mistakes, ones I deeply regret. But I have information, and it concerns not just Historia, but everyone here."
Historia took a step forward, her voice surprisingly steady. "Speak, then."
Fenrir kept a protective stance, watching Rod intently. There was a depth of sadness in the older man's eyes that he didn't know how it made him feel.
Rod took a shaky breath, his voice tremulous. "When I was young, I saw my father as a god. His power, the power of the Titans, it was something I revered and feared. I believed that with it, we could reshape our world, free ourselves from the Titans' grip."
He paused, taking a moment to gather himself. "When he imprisoned me, when he refused to use his power, I couldn't understand. Even when my own daughter, Frieda, took up that mantle and acted differently, my faith wavered, but I clung to it. But now..." Rod's eyes filled with tears. "Now, with everything that's happened, with the message Fen sent, and with beings like Thor entering our world... I don't know what to believe anymore."
Historia looked at her father, her face a mixture of pity and confusion. "You've made so many mistakes, Father. You've caused so much pain."
"I know," Rod whispered, his voice choked. "But I revered the power we had as the true god. I was blinded. These recent events, they've made me question everything. What if there's more out there? What if our understanding of 'God' is flawed?"
His body shook with emotion. "I tried to control our fate, thinking it was for the greater good. But maybe... maybe I was just a puppet, thinking I was a player."
With that, he collapsed onto the ground, his sobs echoing in the quiet night. "I'm so sorry, Historia. I'm so sorry for everything."
Historia, moved by her father's vulnerability, knelt down next to him. The weight of years of misunderstanding and pain heavy between them. The rest of the squad watched in silence, letting the father-daughter duo have their moment. Even in the midst of the larger conflict, the personal stories of hurt and redemption played out.
The old Garrison outpost's walls echoed with the heart-wrenching sobs of Rod Reiss, the true king of the walls. As Historia, his daughter, held him, a profound silence settled over those gathered, broken only by the weighty lamentations of the once-feared monarch.
Sasha, typically easy-going and constantly preoccupied with thoughts of her next meal, shifted uncomfortably. The sight before her stirred something within. She cast a glance towards Connie, her ever-present companion, seeking reassurance or perhaps a shared understanding.
Connie, known for his light-heartedness, remained uncharacteristically mute. His own experiences with tragic loss had taught him the value of empathy. His hand found its way to Sasha's shoulder, offering silent solace.
Eren, a whirlwind of emotion and determination, regarded Rod with a contemplative gaze. Both he and Rod had been at the nexus of momentous events, making choices they believed right only to confront devastating outcomes. Watching Rod, Eren grappled with the intricacies of human nature and the overlap between friend and foe.
Levi, the ever-impassive leader, seemed unaffected at a cursory glance. Yet, a discerning eye could catch the tautness in his posture. A man more of deeds than words, he too grappled with the moment's gravity. It emphasized that life wasn't just black and white, but a myriad of greys, a realization as confounding as it was enlightening.
Hange's keen eyes, often sparkling with mischief or scientific curiosity, now held a touch of softness. Her life had been a journey through the labyrinth of human motives and emotions, and the sight of Rod, vulnerable and broken, emphasized the shared humanity they all held, regardless of past enmities.
Among them stood Ymir, her past inextricably linked with Historia's and by extension, the Reiss legacy. Her gaze remained unreadable, but as she took in Rod's shattered form, there wasn't a trace of triumph. She remembered her own tangled history and search for purpose. There was recognition in her eyes, an acknowledgment that beneath the layers of power plays and survival, they were all just human.
The scene was a stark testament to the labyrinthine nature of human emotions, desires, and regrets. Everyone, regardless of their roles in the grand tapestry of history, carried their burdens and sought redemption in their own ways.
