Armin… Is this how you will spend your final moments?
Bertholdt can hardly breathe from the heat that seeps through the cracks of his sinewy layers, even protected by the near-impervious carapace of the Colossal Titan's nape. He's intimately familiar with how painful it is to get burnt by his own titan's steam, so why? Why would Armin choose to stay here, in the eye of a storm he stands so powerless against?
He can let go at any moment, but Armin has clearly made his choice — anchored to the Colossal Titan when he should long be blown away and unrelenting against boiling steam that assaults him mercilessly. It baffles Bertholdt that he would just throw himself against his attack without a coherent goal in mind. Eren's titan lies broken on the ground and the remaining survivors are locked in battle with Reiner while the scouts on the other side of the wall are dying en masse, but he still expects someone will be there to make his diversion work?
It's not only sad, but naive.
Shiganshina has been laid to waste. A horrific carnage, were it not for the instantaneous death the Colossal Titan's blastwave has caused. Hundreds died in one go, extinguished before they could grasp they were going to die. Were Bertholdt more skilled, maybe the remaining members of the 104th he called valued comrades just a little earlier would be spared in the blast and he wouldn't need to go for the more painful effort of killing them himself. Even if he crushes them with his limbs or burns them, that is still far worse than evaporating within the blink of an eye.
How unbearably, unreasonably cruel a world they live in.
But it's better this way. It's better they won't have to mourn their fallen and it's better that only the Founder will go with them when all of this is over. None of them want to die, but Bertholdt has decided he will end their lives, so that's what's going to happen, no going around it.
When he first noticed there were survivors, he already presumed that they would try to utilise the only weapon they really have against him: attrition. Even with their horses dead and the soldiers on the other side of the wall boxed in, they can still choose to sacrifice the many to secure the only defence Paradis still has against Marley. Without Eren, they are done for. So many lives could've and should've gone to saving the Founder instead.
So why not hide and wait until Bertholdt runs out of energy to sustain his titan form? Bertholdt knows for sure that Armin should've figured out by now that this is his biggest weakness. What does Armin hope to achieve here by fighting him head-on?
Does he want to die?
Ah. That makes sense. Is there anything more understandable than wanting to end it all as a response to enduring so much suffering? Bertholdt had seen it all around him, as soon as a week after they first infiltrated the island and found the remains of someone who had given up already, and the knowledge that there was a way out that was inaccessible to him haunts him even to this day. Because he has a duty not only to his country and to the world, but especially to the only two people he still has around him.
The human mind isn't built to sustain so much pain. The boy is allowed to die — the world won't end if he does, and after all of the remaining 104th join him, there will be no one left who'll have to go through the process of mourning him. Tragic but painless. With the heavy casualties the Survey Corps suffered just minutes ago and their impending loss of the Coordinate and his best friend, Bertholdt can empathise with Armin's wish to die before he can end up all alone.
Bertholdt closes his eyes. While he is prepared to grant him that wish, he still respects the soldier– his friend, and he knows he's extinguishing one of the world's brightest lights in the dark. But there is no way around it, they both made their choice. It will be a painful and cruel death, exactly what he promised himself he wanted to prevent, but if Armin threw himself into his steam voluntarily, then he must be okay with burning alive.
Not many people choose their death. Not the moment, nor the method or the circumstances, especially not in the military. His last comfort could very well be that he chose for this, no matter how gruesome a way of dying he will face.
He'll put him out of his misery.
For a very brief moment, he boils even hotter to make it fast, the skin of his titan blazing so intensely that it burns through the isolated nape that protects him and he can feel the skin of his forearms and shins sizzle and blister. He grimaces. It won't kill him to experience something close to what his victim will die from, that's not the issue. It's that the added heat stress makes him aware of how the extended battle is starting to exhaust his body. He'll need to end this soon. Find the others and extinguish them before he wears himself out.
His eyes crack open again, to give Armin the consideration of being seen in his final moments. But when he looks down at the scout anchored to the Colossal Titan, he sees not defeat, but confidence written all over his face. Determined confidence, almost anger, just barely visible as he shields his face with his arms.
Is that the face of someone who gave up and surrendered himself to fate?
Is giving up and dying the way Armin does things?
Someone else, maybe, but Armin? The bright soul who always has some trick up his sleeve even when it looks like he's surrounded from all sides? The strategist whom Bertholdt has learned not to underestimate? For him to charge in mindlessly without any support as a selfish last resort instead of saving his mind for when anyone comes to back him up?
It doesn't make sense. He can come up with better plans than this. Usually plans that directly use his opponents to his advantage. That's how Bertholdt has known him since the day they've met, so why change that so suddenly? Even his improvised plan to talk to Bertholdt earlier had more structure than this.
Is he truly that miserable?
A vibrant scene plays out in his mind, one where he is taunted into violent action that ends up costing them the Founder. No, not mindlessly taunted, manipulated. Armin is good at it, and on that day, he used it to his advantage to get Bertholdt to lash out and lower his guard so that the Commander had an opening to slash the bindings that fastened Eren to his back and buy Paradis more time.
Doesn't that feel uncomfortably familiar right now?
Conventionally, adrenaline facilitates the exudation of steam, but the shock that runs through his spine at the realisation makes him stop the blast altogether.
He let his exhaustion lower his guard.
No longer trapped in the current of scalding air, Armin's limp body falls down until it hangs in the air, unconscious and bloody but with his anchors still attached to the Colossal Titan's skull, preventing him from falling to his death. It would be so easy to crush him under bony fingers, but an unconscious target is nowhere near his top priority right now. Bertholdt can't afford to pay attention to someone who's already too badly burnt to survive his wounds. Not when danger lurks around the corner.
He sharpens his senses, vigilant to any movement or sound that means someone is approaching him. Steam still disperses around him and he can barely see anything. He shoots a short burst of steam, then another one, and continues to do so as a preventive measure in case someone approaches from the ground to take out the Colossal Titan's ankles. He regrets being too slow to crush Armin earlier. Had he been faster, he wouldn't have to put himself at a disadvantage from being blinded by the smokescreen, forcing him to be this careful. It's unlikely he'll ever fight a battle this up close and personal ever again, but it's something to take note of for the future regardless.
Right now, he has to put his everything into ensuring that there will be a future for him.
Listening attentively, he listens to how only one side of the wall is still turbulent. He heard a lot of screaming from the outside of the Wall as he was near it, before everything went silent, signalling Zeke's victory. Behind him, as he was dealing with Armin, he heard several explosions, and he couldn't help but feel worried about Reiner's safety, but he had himself to worry about first so he ignored them up until now. Zeke might show up to offer support any moment now, and it's direly needed to weed out anyone who might try to flank the Colossal Titan. And if Zeke has won, that means Bertholdt can focus elsewhere. So long as he keeps up these short bursts of steam, no one can realistically get close to him.
The Colossal Titan's head turns to help Bertholdt survey the battle behind him, but he's interrupted by a low rumbling noise, and he prepares for another burst of steam to kill his ambusher.
"Bertholdt! We're leaving!"
Zeke's human voice? He looks back at the wall and sees Pieck's titan climbing onto the top of the wall. Zeke sits on her supply backpack, covered in blood with his limbs severed unevenly, his eye socket horribly mangled and steaming intensely as it heals. Did the scouts on the other side of the wall find a way to slip past the line of titans and get him?
With their Warchief down, the tide suddenly turns and the battle looks lost. But they don't need to eradicate every single scout that's left, they just need to obtain Eren.
Bertholdt emerges from the nape of his titan, coughing as he breathes in the smouldering air still wafting off of its skin. He doesn't pull himself loose from the tendrils connecting to his head and limbs yet, so when Pieck jumps towards the Colossal with an open mouth to bite him out, he yells at her to stop. She listens and lands on the Colossal Titan's shoulder instead with a thump, but Zeke looks impatient. Before he can bark at him, Bertholdt explains himself.
"Warchief! The Coordinate is down below in front of the gate, unconscious in his titan. We can still grab him and win!"
"Then stop wasting time," Zeke snarls at him. "I won't hesitate to leave you behind if you hold us back." He's rarely seen their Warchief this panicked.
Bertholdt hesitates. If he disconnects from the Colossal Titan, it will disintegrate, and with the explosion and his constant flow of steam earlier, he isn't so sure he'll have the energy to form another one. With Reiner's status unknown, if Bertholdt is the last combat titan standing, he can't just give up their only remaining weapon and risk becoming defenceless. Pieck will have to carry four people, she can't be expected to be able to carry everyone and fend off the scouts at the same time, even with Bertholdt there to defend her in human form. Fighting in the city earlier has depleted his gas tanks too much for extended close-contact combat.
Worst case, she'll have to cling onto the Colossal Titan until it reaches the wall again and expose everyone to sporadic bursts of steam to fend off attackers. They'll all burn, but with all of them being shifters, it won't be permanent, just incredibly painful in the moment.
Right then, a loud series of explosions boom in the city. The three look down, and to Bertholdt's horror, down below and barely visible through the steam that still hangs around him in a thick curtain, are the evaporating remains of the Armoured Titan. His blood runs cold.
"What is happening down there?" Zeke asks.
Bertholdt jerks his head towards Zeke again, worry now visibly written all over his face. "Warchief, they have defeated Reiner!"
"Dammit!" Zeke shouts. "Bertholdt, go retrieve the Coordinate, we'll come get you down below. You either leave your titan or you die here and cost us the mission. Don't be stubborn, you're dead if you stay!" he commands, and before Bertholdt can give an answer, Pieck's titan jumps off of the Colossal's shoulder and into the city to go straight for Reiner.
There's no going around it anymore. He has to leave the safety of his titan if he wants a mission success. After seeing Reiner's titan defeated for a second time, an urgency overtakes Bertholdt that causes him to pull loose from his titan's tendrils and leave its nape without thinking.
Immediately, the Colossal Titan sinks through its knees and Bertholdt anchors himself to its shoulders on one side, ready to jump off once he's low enough to make his way down to the immobile Attack Titan.
The Colossal Titan comes to a halt as it lays slumped over, now evaporating, and before its heat can burn through the soles of Bertholdt's shoes, he hops off, ready to anchor himself to a lower point of the wall to stop near his target and cut Eren out of his titan. He lets gravity do its work until the last possible moment, because every second he gains is an increase in their chances of victory.
He falls past Armin's 3DMG lines, still attached to the Colossal's skull, and he can't help but hope that the boy succumbed to his wounds swiftly rather than slowly. In the end, it doesn't matter. He's dead no matter how it went down, but if he could avoid the pain of such a slow death after his plan failed, Bertholdt prefers that option.
Glancing as he falls past where Armin's body connects to his wires, he sees that there is… Nothing.
An anchor shoots into the wall and Bertholdt comes to a halt against it, painfully so as he fails to ease into his fall and he nearly slams into it. He turns his head up looking for Armin, but he's gone. The only thing still attached to his anchor lines are the small pieces of leather gear they were once connected to, clearly cut loose in a hurry. If someone has cut him loose, then…
Bertholdt looks down, disconnecting his anchor again to make his way to the ground, but before he makes it, the issue is already visible through the clouds of steam. Eren's titan form, partially crystallised, the rest of it evaporating beneath him, and no sign of the Coordinate's human form anywhere in sight.
He lands in front of it hard, almost sinking through his knees, and takes a moment to survey the situation. Eren must've left his titan and cut Armin loose when Bertholdt was talking to Zeke, too distracted concocting a plan to notice what was happening below. Was that Armin's plan? To die distracting Bertholdt and make him think Eren was knocked out cold until he could sneak up on him? Did he really think it would be that easy?
If Eren is gone already, there's no way that Bertholdt can find him again in this maze of a city, but does he really have a choice? Everything rides on him right now. He could make his way towards Pieck and hitch a ride home, but without the Coordinate, he and Reiner are both dead and the world possibly doomed. After such carnage, there's no way that Eren won't unleash the rumbling upon them the moment he learns how to. He'll want bloody revenge on Marley, especially after it killed Armin.
Bertholdt can't afford not to go looking for Eren, no matter where he might be hidden or how deadly the choice is.
He shoots his anchors into the buildings to his right, almost instinctively. Would he really hide? Eren is an impulsive hothead, but if the life of his friend depends on him, he might just be able to think straight and do what he needs to save him. In this case, that would be to take him to a body of water to cool down his steaming body and bring him back from the brink of death. The river is where he might find the two.
It's all so pointless. Armin's likely been burned too badly to save him, but Bertholdt can empathise that Eren wants to hold onto the hope that he can still be resuscitated. Didn't Bertholdt just give up a surefire victory to rescue Reiner despite seeing half of his skull had been blown off and he could very well be dead already? Anything for his comrades. Bertholdt can respect that he still values love despite living in this cold world that shows no one mercy.
Zipping towards the river, it doesn't take him long to spot Eren. Even from a distance, he sees his form crouching by the water. The wall between the street and the river is shattered in several areas, no doubt the result of one of Bertholdt's assaults on the city, and Eren has slipped through one of the openings to submerge Armin's body in the water from the abdomen down, splashing water onto the higher regions of his body to cool him down.
He isn't even hiding.
It would be easy to grab him, but Bertholdt knows that Eren won't just leave Armin behind without putting up one hell of a fight. The last thing Bertholdt wants to do is waste his energy fighting Eren, but after having carried out several transformations already, he has to be just as tired as Bertholdt is. So long as no one else enters the fight, it will be over before it has even started.
He just has to be quick about it. Dismember him before he can react, after which there will be nothing he can do. It's underhanded and unfair, but no one in the world would care if dirty tactics were used to incapacitate the Founder if it meant securing victory.
Blades drawn, Bertholdt lands by the last building before the stretch of road that separates the houses from the river. He dashes forward, light on his feet, hoping to catch Eren off-guard, but his lines have been too noisy for him not to notice.
Before Bertholdt can get in combat range, Eren uses his free hand to draw a blade and twists his torso, weapon drawn defensively in front of him. His face initially is tear-streaked and frightened, but once he notices it's Bertholdt who's approaching him, hot anger burns across his visage, eyes ablaze with a desire for vengeance Bertholdt saw once before, high up in treetops.
He drags Armin's body out of the water, holding him close, as if Bertholdt will lunge at him and kill him if he doesn't. Armin is still breathing and his face has remained surprisingly untouched by his steam now that the blood has been rinsed off, but judging by the severe boils along his arms and the blood that stains his clothes and the skin of his forearms and chin, that won't last for much longer.
But Eren doesn't necessarily know that. Maybe that can be his bargaining chip.
"You piece of shit, I will gut you in the most excruciating way possible!" Eren spits out at the top of his lungs, not a drop of self-control contained within his words as he tightens his grip on Armin's shoulder. This is a cornered opponent whose anger will allow him to make many mistakes. A good advantage to have.
"Eren. Come with me and your friends will survive. We only need you," Bertholdt bargains, keeping his voice as neutral and reasonable as he can through his elevated breathing. He looks down at the boy in his grip. "The rest will find Armin and take care of him. They're still alive and we don't intend to kill them. He'll live. But I'll need to kill him if you don't cooperate." He knows for a fact that Eren would never agree to give up and die. The very least he can do is try, futile as it is.
Eren's expression grows even more enraged before he shifts to a cold smirk, eyes wide. "How about I kill you and we both survive instead? That's more likely, you lying bastard, you said you wanted us all dead!"
There is no time for this. Cold ruthlessness is all that's left after negotiation fails. The way Armin is pressed so close to Eren, the shifter can't fight back against Bertholdt without tossing him into the water and risking letting his friend drown, so the only way to dismember Eren is to cut through Armin as well. Bertholdt hopes that Armin is as unconscious as he seems and won't have to feel what he's about to do as he draws back a blade and prepares to charge in.
Right then, Eren moves his blade towards his own body. In one swift motion, he places it against his throat, his glare now icy compared to that passion that burned within his eyes seconds ago.
"You need me alive." He says in a low voice, pressing down on the blade a little until he draws blood to prove his point. "It'll all be for nothing if you don't get me alive."
Bertholdt freezes in his motion entirely. Would Eren really kill himself to prevent the enemy from obtaining him? He would shoot Paradis in the foot by doing so, and the shifter is widely known for his fiery spirit that can't be tamed by anyone or anything. By his will to fight, no matter what. By bloody vengeance upon his enemies. By the sheer power of his indelible resolve.
This is a bluff. He would never take his own life to save his people.
But then, Bertholdt thinks about what happened earlier. How prepared Armin had been to jump into his sights to distract him, fully aware that he would die regardless of if he were successful in his efforts. He couldn't predict Armin's suicide plan was for real either. He underestimated his opponent's willingness to throw away their own survival to save others once, he can't risk it again. They need Eren alive.
Bertholdt is running out of time, and his hesitation isn't helping. Where are Zeke and Pieck? Did they get intercepted trying to save Reiner? Bertholdt hasn't heard any more explosions, but the scouts could take Pieck if they have enough gas. Without her, there's no escaping the scouts and getting back to the harbour. He has to believe she's still out there.
The mission is falling apart fast and Bertholdt will have to choose. Unfortunately for his opponents, he just learned how to make important choices instead of leaving them to others. He'll be faster than Eren and he'll dismember his sword arm before he can slice his throat.
Just as his leg muscles tighten to put his everything into charging forward and he lunges at Eren, a blast sounds behind him, and Bertholdt just manages to direct his movement sideways far enough to feel the anchor of a 3DMG line zip past his face, slicing deep into the thinly covered skinless etchings of his cheek.
Time's up.
Without a second thought, he follows his motion through and dashes alongside the river wall until he's in range of a building, anchoring himself to it and shooting away as he looks behind him one last time. Body covered in steaming blood and much resembling the old illustrations of island devils Marley puts out as propaganda, Captain Levi sprints towards Eren's location. Eren has finally put Armin aside and looks ready to chase after Bertholdt, hand ready in his mouth, but the Captain stops him. Bertholdt direly hopes that neither of them will chase him down, but if he hadn't heard the zipping of 3DMG lines when he was approached, that must mean that he ran out of gas and he's taking Eren's supply. Bertholdt is good, but not better than humanity's strongest, and he will definitely die if the veteran catches up to him.
Pieck. He needs Pieck. He needs to find the Cart Titan and anchor himself to it so that they can escape together. She's the only one that can save them all right now, the mission be damned.
With one final push from his gear, Bertholdt reaches the top of a building, and far away in the city, he can see the Cart Titan making its way towards him. Reiner hangs out of its mouth, damaged but safe.
So he made it, they all did. They are coming to his aid, and Bertholdt can almost laugh in relief at the sight. He's out of breath and he has just enough gas left to cross the city, but he'll make it. Even if he can accept his end, in front of him is the only thing that can save his life, that can still get the Colossal Titan back to Marley. It can't fall into the hands of Paradis by the random chance of inheritance if he is to die. He has to put his everything into reaching her before the scouts can.
So he runs. Under already heavy breathing and strenuous fatigue running through his body, he pushes himself to the limit to reach her. Jumping off the end of the roof, he switches to 3DMG to soar between the buildings, and the gap is closing. Just a few more hundred metres and he'll make it.
Then, Pieck stops dead in her tracks and Bertholdt's heart skips a beat. She stands there for a second before turning around and galloping off towards the outside wall over the rooftops. She's faster than him, at this rate he won't make it towards her. And when he hears the zipping of anchors and lines behind him, he understands exactly why she turned heel. Levi is right behind him.
Bertholdt becomes careless with his gas usage; anything to get himself to burst forward faster, but with humanity's strongest on his heels and Pieck leaving, he can't see any way in which he'll be faster than him. Not to mention that if he doesn't have enough gas left to scale the wall, none of this will make a difference. He'll be stuck down in the city and there is no way he could ever win against an opponent this skilled. He's running on those bouts of adrenaline flaring up his every muscle into action, because he has to make it somehow. There is no room for the alternative.
Pieck reaches the wall and starts climbing. Half the city's distance left between them, and in one quick backwards glance, Bertholdt notes he only has a few seconds on Levi. Just enough to make it if he applies himself fully to getting there.
When Pieck finally climbs to the top, she takes a moment to look backwards, but all his hope is shattered when she turns around and leaps off the wall.
Nothing short of cold and harsh. For a moment, it's like his heart has stopped in his chest and the world slows down around him as the image of Pieck leaving him is permanently burned into his memories. He'd be lying if he said that didn't just kill him on the inside.
He keeps going, still making his way towards the wall, but as he swings through the air in what more and more becomes a panicked rush, what is the point now that he's been left to his devices by the ones who were supposed to back him up but left him to be maimed or captured by the enemy instead? What'll happen when he makes it to the wall? How will he continue afterwards, with his scorched legs almost drained of blood from 3DMG usage and no energy left to run?
There is something inside him that tells him to just let go and let himself be slashed to pieces. Wouldn't it be much easier to give up right now? He already decided he's ready to accept any outcome, and after seeing his comrades abandon him at the top of that wall, he isn't so sure if he still has the drive to try to reach them again. It's not personal, of course. He'd have done the same if it was the only way. Gambling three to save the life of one is insane. But it feels so bitter.
And he almost gives up. Almost. If not for the thought that he doesn't know what is happening on the other side of that wall. No one else scaled it together with Pieck, and for all he knows, the brilliant strategist has devised one last plan to await him on the other side and let him leap down onto her back to escape together. If he gives up now, everything up until now will have been for nothing.
There is no knowing if there is another plan. He has to hope that there is. He has to.
So he accepts it. His fate is in the hands of Pieck and Zeke now. All he has to do is make sure he makes it to the top of that wall.
He reaches the wall, and without looking back to see how much distance there is between the two of them, starts scaling it, relieved that he still has enough gas left to go up, but he could run out any second now. He needs a backup plan. Because if no one is there for him on the other side, he has a crisis on his hands. It would've all been for nothing. Pointless, just like the world around him, but that doesn't mean he isn't anxious to know if he'll live or die.
Then, in a moment of clarity, he sees his options before him crystal clear, and he doesn't need any more confirmation to know that this will be his terminal plan of action.
With one last burst of gas, he reaches the top of the wall. There is no hesitation. Immediately, he sprints across the surface, and behind him, he hears a furious "No!" from his pursuer, dangerously close. In his complete exhaustion, Bertholdt won't get much farther than the other side of the wall before his legs give out entirely, but he doesn't need to. No time to think. Even half a second of hesitation and he'll be caught up with. But his plan doesn't require him to think, just to do.
He crosses the length of the wall, swerving to dodge any anchors that may be launched at him, and with the handles of his 3DMG held tightly in his shivering hands, he takes one final deep breath as he runs. At full speed, he closes his eyes and, with every last bit of his strength pushed into the tip of his foot against the edge, throws himself over the other side of the wall — a blind leap of faith into his ultimate fate. Diving head-first, he feels every fibre of his body, every vein pulse inside him as the wind rushes over his clothes and through his hair, strangely at peace to know his fate will be decided as he soars through the air surrendered to completely helpless freefall, and when he finally opens his eyes, time stands still for a moment.
Beneath him a small impact crater and far away in the distance, the figure of the Cart Titan dashing away at full speed.
Leaving him behind.
It rakes his insides, constricting his lungs and punching out all air. Not what he hoped for, nor what he bet his luck on, and it strikes him over the head how he needs to enable his backup plan now or he is done for, no time to think of how badly that image in front of him stings. Time instantly resumes and he knows he has less than a second to react, so he throws both his 3DMG handles behind him, because for neither of his options will they be of any more use to him.
He jams his hand between his teeth, biting down harder than he ever has in his life, a silent prayer firing through his mind that it will work. He will either transform and signal the others that he's still alive, still not beaten, still has some juice left inside him to keep fighting and make pursuit of his comrades, or he will fail and within no more than a couple of seconds, take all of Marley's secrets as well as control over the Colossal Titan to his grave. No matter how he looks at this, he's won, and he feels a solemn sense of pride that he came up with such a win-win plan when he scaled the wall. He will never surrender and they will never get him alive to tear all the answers out of him, nor will he let any of them deal the decisive blow. He made sure of that in his final offensive blow against the island. Finally, after a life of being swept along in the currents of fate, he's in full control of his destiny.
Either he's just drawn his last breath, or he's going home. He chose so.
It's hard to tell with the tension of adrenaline reaching into every corner of his body, but with his goal irrevocably set on exploding and blowing away the area, a crackle emerges from his hand, reaching all the way into his heart and running through his spine towards his extremities, tingling inside the tips of his fingers and toes. Electricity explodes all around him and he feels the familiar wave of pre-transformation heat envelop his body entirely in the flash second before he incarnates the form of the Colossal Titan, and it makes him feel beyond ecstatic both inside and outside as his skin jolts under his impending transformation. He won. He'll live, he'll make it home, he'll get to see–
Pain stabs through his chest, piercing him so deeply that the shockwave reverberates through his whole body and shatters his ribs and collarbones. All that electricity decays into deep nausea, and a crushing pressure spreads through his torso as a bloodied metal spike shoots straight out of his neck accompanied by the taste of iron, and for once, Bertholdt isn't sure if his heart is still beating in his chest upon feeling the entry point of the anchor is in the middle of his back and it could've very well pierced straight through.
He needs his blades. Now. No matter what shape he's in, he needs to fight back, but when he feels a sickeningly sudden jerk as the ground abruptly stops nearing and his 3DMG handles rush straight past him, he realises he's lost all momentum caught onto the anchor. Only for a moment, because as soon as he stops, the anchor rips out of his throat again, its barbs wreaking havoc on his insides on its way out, and by the time he realises that he's falling again, all he can feel is the absence of huge chunks of flesh that have been torn out of his torso, so raw and rough that it sears through his entire body, paralysing him from doing anything not because he doesn't want to but because he's too broken to move anything.
This is no longer his own choice. He was so close, not even a second away from tasting victory, and it was ripped out of his hands like that because he was just too slow. He didn't choose to go out, he was killed, and the cruellest part is that in this final second before he plummets to his death, he is aware of just how futile his struggle against his fate is. No agency or choice, nothing he could do, not even his death will be his own decision.
Will the fall still kill him so close to the ground?
Will all this damage be enough to end it?
Will it hurt?
He doesn't know. Because in those very last moments, where his instincts take over and he balances his head away from the ground as he falls, the world around him fades to black and he is spared hearing the sound of his body breaking against the ground beneath him.
You can find a more extensive description, some goals I want to write towards, and author's notes on the AO3 upload of this fic - /works/26989504/chapters/65880622 (or look it up under the same title by the same username)