A/N: This Fanfic is more catered toward Warframe fans than AOT fans. Additionally, the canon will diverge to a nearly heavy degree.
—WARFRAME—
It came from the Southeast, it then broke through the darkened clouds and made way Westward. It fell from the heavens like a blazing star, trailing across the dark, starry skies with a temporary cyan aurora following and a quaking howl as it soared.
It was herald of the most grim of times to come.
It trailed across many cities aflame in orange, red, and blue. Gliding above, it lit the cobble streets, fine, course, and rough sands, paved roads, and various walls in orange-red and unnatural cyan-grey hues, terrifying many a children awake in night whilst frightening the men and women awake to gaze out their windows.
Those who gazed deeply at the object succumbed to a sickening phenomenon that eroded their minds and sanities, till they were either nothing more than jittering messes sprawled across their floors or raving mad beasts without a semblance of sentience left within them, hungering for life.
It continued to blaze across the skies until it descended near an island nearly resembling paradise. The object flew across a port South of the island, alerting the crew onboard the docked ships who rushed out to catch sight of the aflame flying object.
Passing beyond the port, its descent furthered until it finally crashed into the planet's dirt.
Colliding with the earthen soil, plates of enflamed black-coated metals and shards of metal scraps sparking through the air were flung forth and around as the flaming object tumbled and rolled. Trees were lit ablaze and toppled over by the shrapnel. The object broke into three pieces brimming with perforations in a burning crater, snapping and crackling with orange-red and cyan-blue fires.
The flames died down, and the sun soon rose from the East. The day the object had descended upon the world, and wreaked its short bout of madness, was dubbed the "Maddening Star."
And it was the day were Void began to consume the world.
—ATTACK ON TITAN—
"It's nice outside," the black-haired Oriental boy thought. But upon gazing at the sky, he saw the clouds begin to cluster. He'd seen it before, so he knew it was going to rain soon. "It was so nice outside, though..." he muttered.
The boy, with his keen hearing, heard the doors to his home open. "Mikazuki! Come inside, it's going to rain soon!" Mikazuki heard his Papa shout.
Turning around, Mikazuki saw his Papa: A man with blond hair in who was really tall. The boy didn't look very much like his Papa – he looked more like his Mama with gray eyes and black hair – but he had his Papa's strength and size!
"Okay, Papa!" Mikazuki cried back before standing up from the patch of ground he sat upon. Rain soon began to trickle down. First, one drop, then three, and soon seven drops of water touched down on the palm of Mikazuki's right hand.
Mikazuki wasn't one to get easily sick from rain — and he liked the rain. He once stayed outside, even though Papa and Mama told him to get inside. They got angry at him for playing in the rain. He doesn't know how to feel about that.
Mikazuki ran toward his cabin home. He was a bit bigger than his older sister, Mikasa, so he ran faster than her. Mama said it was "the benefits of being Papa's boy," which Mikazuki didn't understand very much, but he liked the sound of it.
Mikazuki's Papa ruffled his black hair, "C'mon, Mikasa's sewing with Mama and I've still got to teach you how to properly clean and maintain the musket."
Mikazuki and his Papa went into the cabin that was their home to see his sister and Mama on a table with sewing needles and stuff. Mikasa was sewing something flat, while Mama was making a hat for Mikazuki. It was looked a lot like the one Papa wore when he went to the farm.
Mikazuki walked toward the fireplace to stow his hunting knife. Papa told him to bring it whenever he went outside, because wolves lived in the area where they lived.
"Mika! Look at this!" Mikasa cheerfully showed a flat, beige cloth to Mikazuki. It had a red embroidery, something Mikazuki once saw Mama make for Papa.
"It's splendid, isn't it, Mikazuki?" Mama asked Mikazuki.
He didn't know what he was meant to feel about the cloth, so he decided to be honest, "I dunno," which caused Mikasa and Mama to look at him with confusion.
"You don't know...?" Mama sighed before a new look on her face took over, "Ah, it's probably because you still don't understand the importance of the embroidery." A kind smile came onto Mama's face before she began speaking again, "This embroidery has been passed down our family for generations. I intended on teaching you both how to make it for when you two one day have children, so that you can teach them."
A look of surprise came to Mikasa, "Huh... How do you have children, Mama?" Mikasa asked. Mikazuki wanted to ask that too, but he thought he would just be annoying if he did. He was kind of loud.
Mikazuki saw Mama make a weird smile, "Ah... Well, you should ask your father about that." But the smile wasn't because of anger... he'd seen that one before... it was because it was funny? Mikazuki was confused.
Papa was caught of guard by Mama as he was carrying the musket into the room and made a funny noise.
Mikasa, holding the cloth with both of her hands, asked Papa, "Hey, Dad."
Mikazuki could see Papa sweating a bit, "Uh, well, Dad isn't very sure... Ah, right, Dr. Jaeger will be here soon, so why don't we ask him?" Papa said as Mama turned away to quietly laugh into her hand.
Suddenly, two knocks came from the door. That was probably Mr. Jaeger. Mama said that Mr. Jaeger was visiting because Mama was going to give us a younger brother or sister. Mikazuki didn't know very much about Mr. Jaeger, but he sounded nice. And, he was a doctor, and doctors saved people, as Papa said. Mikazuki wanted to be both a doctor and a hunter like Papa.
"Oh, looks like he's already here," Papa quickly added before another two knocks rang on the door, "Yes, I'm coming!"
Papa opened the door and welcomed Mr. Jaeger, who Mikazuki couldn't see. "Dr. Jaeger, we've been wait—" Papa's words were interrupted by something.
Confused, Mikazuki tilted his head to the side to see. Mikazuki saw something red, but he couldn't smell anything. His nose was terrible.
"Papa?" Mikazuki called as Papa stumbled backward before falling onto the floor, the musket in his hand clattering away.
Mikazuki turned toward the door to see three men, with one carrying a knife covered in red. Blood. Mikazuki froze.
"Why, hello there," the man in the middle, holding the knife, greeted Mikazuki and his family. He was short, fat, and had dark hair and a beard. The one to the right of the men was blonde, tall, and lanky and wore an orange scarf, a green shirt, and had an axe. The last one, Mikazuki couldn't see clearly, but—
Mama charged at the lanky man with the knitting scissors while screaming. She grabbed the man's arm that was holding the axe, while he grabbed hers that was holding the scissors.
"Mikazuki, Mikasa, run!" Mama yelled as she struggled with the lanky man.
"M-mom..." Mikasa muttered.
"Mikasa, take Mikazuki and run!" Mama yelled again.
Mikazuki watched, frozen as Mama fought the lanky man before he shouted something and yanked his hand out of her grip before swinging the axe down on Mama's neck. Mikazuki watched as a spray of blood came from Mama's neck as she fell from the wound.
Mikazuki turned to his older sister with a blank expression before remembering that he was a hunter. A hunter always had a backup, like Papa said. But it was placed on the fireplace... Mikazuki flickered his eyes from the men to Mikasa before he ran for the knife and unsheathed it.
"Kill the kid!" the fat man yelled as Mikazuki ran into the lanky man with a knife.
Mikazuki swung the knife wildly, making small cuts on the lanky man.
"Fuck! Kid's fast!" the lanky man cursed.
"Just kill the brat already!" the fat man shouted.
"I got it!" the lanky man yelled back as Mikazuki stabbed the blade through the man's palm, "Fucking brat!"
Mikazuki watched as the axe descended, but it was oddly slow... maybe he could... no. Something inside Mikazuki told him he would... die. But it also said he wouldn't. He was confused, and tired. Maybe all of this was a dream? Or was it a nightmare? What defined a nightmare? The unpleasantness? The fear? If so, was life, then, not a nightmare? After all, it was brim with fear and tragedy. But then, what was a dream? Was it a fantasy? A happyland without strife? No... at least, Mikazuki didn't think so. Dreams could be tragic, recalling of the deceased. But those recollections, however mournful, were also about remembrance. Retaining their memory, so it wasn't all sad. What was Mikazuki going about now? He felt the pupils in his grey eyes constrict as the hot, sharp, and painful sensation of an axe going into one's neck came forth. It was pain unpronounceable, as if someone was dragging hot coal across your neck whilst you suffered from frostbite.
Mikazuki's vision began to dim. Maybe he was going insane, he was rambling about things he didn't know about before... he felt scared... he felt... he... felt...
—ATTACK ON TITAN—
Mikasa felt like the wind around her had gone, with nothing more than an airless stillness.
Why... WhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhYWhyWhyWHyWHYWHYWHyWHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHY!?
"What the hell, man!? I told ya we'd only kill the Dad!" the tubby man shouted at the tall man, who bled a lot from the knife in his hand.
"But they were—"
Mikasa felt hopeless... and scared. Why had Papa and Mama been killed... why did Mikazuki have to die... Mikasa felt hopeless and stayed still as the men approached her.
"Quit your excuses! Nab the brat!"
The tall man in an orange scarf removed the knife Papa had given Mikazuki from his hand and threw it aside.
So much blood. Mikasa felt hopeless. Why did it happen to her family. Mikasa felt hopeless.
She wished the entire thing was just a nightmare and that, when she was killed, she would wake up from the horrid nightmare to the happy reality she knew. The one were Dr. Jaeger would visit and help Mama with having a new child. Mikasa resigned herself to death as the tall men approached her.
"Oi, now you'd better behave... or otherwise, I'll do this!" Mikasa watched the man pull back his arm, before his fist landed on her face.
She felt her consciousness slip. She wanted to sleep. She wanted... to wake up... "It's cold..."
—ATTACK ON TITAN—
"Mikasa?" Eren asked Grisha. The boy didn't have many friends besides Armin, so Grisha wanted him to get along with her at least... After all, he would protect Armin, Mikasa, Mikazuki, and Eren.
"That's right, she's a girl around your age," Grisha turned away from the door, waiting for Mr. Ackerman to respond, "There aren't any other children around here, so get along with her."
Eren sunk his chin into his scarf, "That depends on her attitude," and there was his usual fire. Grisha felt slightly exasperated by the boy.
Grisha sighed, "Eren, this is why you only have one friend." Grisha briefly pondered on why the door hadn't been answered yet. "Hmm... Maybe they're not home," mused before he knocked on the door twice with his knuckle, "Mr. Ackerman, it's Dr. Jaeger."
Hearing no response, Grisha went for the doorknob and twisted it. The door creaked open as Grisha apologized, "Pardon the intrusion." But he was then met with a grizzly sight that left him distraught.
He was no stranger to blood, having seen it firsthand in his childhood in the form of his sister's gnawed body. But that hadn't helped lessen the shock of seeing friends die.
"What's wrong?" Grisha could barely hear Eren's question, with it sounding distant. "Hey, Dad?"
Grisha rushed into the cabin to check on Mrs. Ackerman who was coated in a profuse amount of blood originating from the neck. Checking for a pulse, but found such a hope unfulfilled. Then, Grisha found something far worse than Mrs. Ackerman's corpse: Mikazuki's corpse.
Grisha frantically searched the cabin, flicking his eyes around to find Mikasa. But he couldn't find a trace. Good, that gave Grisha the hope that she hadn't perished like her parents and younger brother.
"Damnit!" Grisha silently raged. He'd failed to protect Mikazuki... He couldn't fail again... Turning to Eren, Grisha asked, "Eren, is there a girl nearby? Did you see Mikasa?"
"No."
"I see," Grisha couldn't search the forest by himself to find Mikasa, and he had to protect Eren, too... so he'd have to ask the Military Police Brigade... "I'm going to call the Military Police Brigade and request an investigation. You go wait at the base of the mountain. Understand, Eren?"
Grisha waited for Eren's response, but none came. "Eren?" Grisha could see the haunting determination in his eyes. "Eren?!"
Grisha just hoped he wouldn't do anything too dangerous... and that Mikasa was alive and safe. He failed Mikazuki, but he wouldn't fail her.
—WARFRAME—
"Hey, is she really gonna be worth anything?" the tall man in a scarf asked the tubby man, who was sat on an old and dusty chair with his arms crossed, "We killed both her parents and her brother to nab her... And I got a knife through my hands."
"Take a look at her face."
Mikasa felt the tall man's foot be placed on her stomach. He turned her over from her side.
"Not bad, but she's still just a kid," he commented, "Doesn't strike my fancy."
"I don't care about your tastes. She's an oriental," the tubby man said.
Mikasa couldn't hear the rest of his explanation... she couldn't bring herself to after realizing the reality before her. The tall man in the scarf had knocked her unconscious, and when she hadn't woken up in a bed with tears and her brother beside her, Mikasa became truly hopeless.
She laid there on the floor. Cold. She wanted to die so she could see her family again. Mika once said that people maybe went to some other place when they died. He didn't know where, but if that place was where he ended up, Mikasa wanted to go, too.
"It's cold..."
A sudden stomp on the wooden floor brought her hazy, tired mind into some focus.
"Exactly, her mom would've been the real jackpot, while the brats would've been the extra coin! You just had to freak out!" the tubby man shouted. Were they going to sell her?
"I-I didn't have a choice! She was putting up a fight! And the boy charged at me with a knife!" the taller man defended.
"Is that your best excuse!?"
Mikasa tuned out their voices and returned to her vacant musing. She wanted to just drown herself in the memories until she died. So she did.
Mikasa forced herself to remember the moments she spent with her Mom, Dad, and Mika. The hunting trips Mika brought her with when he went with Dad. The sewing lessons Mikasa had with Mom. The time he played in the rain, even though Dad and Mom had told him not to.
Mikasa could dive into those memories however deeply she wished, but each one just brought a greater degree of sadness and emptiness. She wouldn't be able to have any more of those memories, now that her family was dead...
A sudden tumbling brought Mikasa's eyes toward a boy on top of the tubby man. Her eyes widen as she sees the boy repeatedly bring down a knife in his hand on the man. The boy cried, "You goddamn animals! Die, die! This is what you deserve! You had it coming! Stay down for good!"
She was... being saved? Mikasa watched the boy stab the man again and again until no more noises came from him, at which point, the boy turned to Mikasa. He got off the man and went behind Mikasa.
He slipped the knife under her bindings and cut them loose bit by bit. "You're Mikasa, right?" he asked her, "I'm Eren, Dr. Jaeger's son. I'm sure you've met him before."
Mikasa continued looking at the corpses of the two kidnappers. "I tagged along with him to your house for medical examinations. And there..." There was a third man.
"There should have been a third man," Mikasa quietly said.
Mikasa and Eren then heard footsteps behind them. Turning around, they saw the third man who looked at them, specifically Eren, with anger.
Eren dived for his knife, but the man kicked him away. "Did you do it?" the man asked in disbelief.
He grabbed Eren by his hair and then by the neck and lifted him into the air, strangling him. "Did you do it!? Did you!?"
Mikasa was, once again, frozen. What was she meant to do? She... she wasn't a hunter like Dad or Mika.
"F-Fight... Fight!" Eren shouted.
Fight? Mikasa couldn't... she wasn't strong enough to fight... She felt tears begin to trickled down her face.
"I-if you lose, you d-die. If you win, you live...!" Eren struggled out to say.
"What the hell are you thinking, brat!?"
"If you don't fight, you can't win!"
A surge of energy was coursing through her. Mikasa turned to grab the knife and held its pommel close to her stomach. Her grip was shaky... she... she couldn't do it! "I can't do it!" Mikasa's mind was in disarray, her memories poured out like a rainstorm. But those same memories made an image that she had ignored for a long time...
In an instant, Mikasa's body stopped shaking and energy flooded in a steady stream through her. Her grip on the knife broke the handle into many splinters, and the pressure she exerted from her foot caused the floor to crater.
"Fight. Fight. Fight! Fight!"
Mikasa charged the man with the knife, until he was suddenly killed by a beam of cyan-grey energy that burned through both sides of his abdomen. Dead almost instantly, the man dropped Eren onto the floor, who gasped for air, before his upper and lower body fell in to separate directions, emitting a terrible stench and wafting with steam.
Mikasa turned toward the door, knife at the ready, as a darkened figure about Eren's height emerged.
Mikasa's eyes widened at the figure... "Mika..." she dropped the knife and ran to him just as he dropped onto his knees and blood began to pour from his neck.
"E-Eren, help me!" Mikasa shouted.
Eren turned to her and saw Mikazuki on the floor, bleeding. "Damnit! Put pressure on the wound!" Mikasa did as Eren said, she placed her palms on his neck and pushed with all her might. "I'll go find some cloth! I can't do much until Dad arrives!"
Mikasa nodded before turning back to her younger brother. She had questions on what he did or how he did it, but those could come later. She was just glad she wasn't alone anymore...
—WARFRAME—
Where was he? Mikazuki definitely wasn't home. Home wasn't covered in ethereal wisps of cyan energy and doused in hues of greys and blues... what were ethereal wisps? How did he know these words? Mikazuki had to have been eating a random mushroom while playing outside.
Looking around, Mikazuki could identify that he was in an advanced structure. He'd heard how Dr. Jaeger described the homes of the nobility, cold and stony, yet extravagant and ostentatious. This was nothing like that. It was a derelict hall of marred wood walls that remained pristine, smooth floors of blue and grey schema. There were rooms with kitchens that had their furniture configured into makeshift barricades. Mikazuki could see bones littered about, with tons of ash drowning them. It was as if their flesh and clothes had been disintegrated into soot.
Mikazuki wandered the halls with not a tinge of caution, merely bemusement.
The place felt familiar. But Mikazuki was certain he hadn't ever been here. Mikazuki caught sight of a sort of flameless lantern, though the light was somehow brighter and more consistent. Mikazuki shrugged. Couldn't hurt to see.
Mikazuki grabbed the lantern and kept on walking through the derelict halls of the place. He passed by the still-lit rooms barricaded with chairs and table. He briefly wondered where the residents had gone, but if the bones prior were any indicator, then he knew already.
Mikazuki was oddly okay. No great confusion, no great sadness at having no idea where his family was. He was okay. Indifferent. Neutral.
A sudden crash of pots and utensils alerted Mikazuki, who turned to flash his lantern toward the source: an undamaged, unbarricaded apartment that wafted out a pleasant scent from its open door. It smelled similar to the eggs Mikazuki's Mama would make.
Alerted and cautious, Mikazuki stalked toward the open apartment. Mikazuki's eyes caught sight of an armored figure, donned in an odd set of purple armor and a red helmet with profuse amounts of gold, in addition to a dark undersuit.
"Come in, I'm just about done." His voice was median in octave and neutral in tone. He saw Mikazuki as a non-threat, and Mikazuki was obliged to return the favor.
"Alright..." Mikazuki went to enter when the stranger spoke again.
"Take your shoes off, first. You'll dirty the floor."
Mikazuki promptly complied with minimal resistance, stowing his flimsy shoes near the door of the apartment before walking in with his bare feet.
"Sorry—" Mikazuki instinctively went to apologize, but he was abruptly cut short by the stranger.
"Don't say sorry. Don't ever say you're sorry unless you truly mean it. Saying sorry without the guilt or intent makes it nothing more than hollow platitudes, and hollow words known to be hollow are worse than consoling words said from the misunderstanding heart," the stranger's words were longwinded and made only a lick of sense to Mikazuki. Though that was perhaps due to a lack of context.
The stranger turned away from the kitchen table with a pair of wooden platters and moved toward a single table. On the rectangular blocks of smoothened wood were cubed items and two pairs of metal sticks. The stranger placed the platters on the small table with two seats before seating himself down. The stranger then grabbed one pair of the two pairs of metal sticks after seating himself before turning to Mikazuki.
"What, you shy? Sit down and eat," the stranger motioned by pointing the ends of his metal sticks before placing the utensils on the table to reach for his helmet.
Mikazuki ambled his way onto the table as the stranger's helmet came off with a hiss and profuse amounts of red-purple steam. They dropped the red helmet onto the floor without care, with the golden muzzle – or was it a chin? – clattering onto the cold floor.
"What?" the stranger asked.
"How old are you?" Mikazuki inquired.
The stranger's face was set in a permanent scowl with lowered brows and a slightly downturned mouth. He had long warm black hair and a stubby beard and moustache. Heavy bags could be seen beneath his eyes and was slightly hunched in posture.
"Physically? I'm somewhere around thirteen and fourteen," "Physically?" Mikazuki mused, "But I've been awake for an odd twenty years, give or take."
The stranger certainly didn't look like a teen, he looked more like a samurai—stereotypical Dax. Wait, how did Mikazuki know what a Dax was—a jolt of pain rang through his head. He clutched the sides of his aching skull and fell off the chair onto the floor.
"Mmh... should've expected that..." Mikazuki could hear the stranger get up from his seat and walk toward Mikazuki. "Take my hand."
Mikazuki, through the killer headache he was experience, could discern the open hand of the stranger — which he promptly grabbed. Mikazuki was pulled up onto his trembling feet and dimming vision.
"Before you go, you should probably have one of these. They'll stave the Void and the merging for a bit," the stranger said before handing a cube of soft raw meat. Mikazuki looked at the stranger with an obviously confused and pained expression, "It's a cube of sashimi."
"W-What's a... sashimi...?" Mikazuki asked through the pulsating pain in his head.
"It's fish. Eat it."
Mikazuki looked down at the cube of... fish... in his palm unsured. He turned to face the stranger, who donned an expectant face. With a quaking sigh, Mikazuki swallowed the sashimi in one bite and then collapsed.
"Oh..." Mikazuki could barely hear the stranger through his dimming mind, but what he heard were mere scraps, "Be... Void... coming... fight..."
Mikazuki's mind soon faded.
—WARFRAME—
"W-What...?" Mikazuki's eyelids creaked open to be greeted with the star-brim sky and the dark green of the forest around. Where was he? He could hear an older man's voice and a young boy's shouting. Was there fighting? What happened? Mikazuki was confused. Mikazuki attempted to get up when a hand abruptly pushed him back down.
"No, Mika! You need to lay down and rest," Mikazuki heard his sibling's voice cry. He attempted to turn to face her, but she refuted the attempt as well. "The wound on your neck hasn't healed. You shouldn't move your head."
Mikazuki complied with the order as his sibling then hugged him tightly. He could feel Mikasa's tears through his shirt... and he was confused about something, but he couldn't place a finger on it at the moment.
"I'm so glad..." he heard Mikasa mutter underneath her breath.
The approaching sounds of shoes crunching the soil overtook the crackling fire nearby as a new figure blotted out the orange hue with their large frame.
"You should listen to your older sister, Mikazuki," Mikazuki then heard an older male's voice. He tried to turn, again, but was stopped, again, by Mikasa.
"Don't. You'll hurt yourself. Stay down," Mikasa insisted with a serious tone.
Unable to turn his head to face the stranger, Mikazuki asked the voice, "Dr. Jaeger?"
"It indeed is," was Mikazuki's response from Dr. Jaeger. "Mikazuki, do you remember how you got here?"
"Hm?" Mikazuki tried to remember how he managed to walk into a forest, but he drew only blanks, "No... I don't." Mikazuki recalled the precipitating events with unerring clarity, recollecting the painful sensation of an axe sinking into his neck and the adrenaline that surged his veins was enough for him to attack a man twice his size.
A pregnant pause came over, stifled only slightly by the chirping and crackling of fire and the bugs in the forest.
"What are we going to do now...?" Mikazuki thoughtlessly asked to nobody in particular.
It was a prudent query. Mikazuki's parents were deceased. Certainly, he could attempt take up his father's duties as a hunter and a farmer and reconstitute the derelict home of his. But a part of him refuted the notion. Mikazuki was doubtful the neck injury he had sustained would properly heal without a doctor, and Dr. Jaeger presumably had a vast array of clients requesting his medicinal craft. Clients more willing to compensate him with a premium compared to a pair of children who's parents he fraternized with.
So many terms he'd never used prior... what happened to him? Did the stranger in the dream do something to him? Would Mikazuki see that young Dax again upon entering slumber?
Mikazuki felt his sibling tear her head away from his chest. "I don't know..." she said in a low and dejected tone of voice, "There's nowhere... for us to go home to..."
A pause. Mikazuki sighed. Mikasa probably heard it, but she was too sunken in gloom to bother replying. Mikazuki felt lost... it was a feeling far too familiar to his liking, and it was now most pronounced... or had it been always noticeable? And he was merely looking away?
Mikazuki dived into the vast amount of memories stored in his brain. The hunting ventures, the moments he tended to the farm with his father, and the times he played outside with Mikasa. Why were they all greyed out? Not in visual sort, but in sense. Maybe he would understand the cause better when he was older...
"It's cold..." Mikazuki promptly darted his eyes toward his sister. She was cold...?
Mikazuki turned his eyes to the starry dark of the skies above with eyes gazing into nowhere.
Mikazuki's mind was blank. Her words make him cease all thought and stare intently in the darkness as a gripping sensation clutched his chest. It was a new feeling. It wasn't pleasant... What was it called? It wasn't sadness... at least, Mikazuki didn't think so.
Mikazuki's thoughts were interrupted by the crunching of dirt. Turning his head, Mikazuki saw a boy with brown and a stern expression approach Mikasa. The orange hue of the fire nearby allowed Mikazuki to barely glimpse the forest-green eyes of the boy that turned a shade of blue in the light.
Mikazuki silently watched as the boy carelessly draped his red scarf around Mikasa's head and neck in a limp fashion, "You can have this," the boy said softly before taking a step back. "It's warm, right?" he asked.
Mikazuki couldn't fully see the boy's expression from the angle he was in, but he could see Mikasa grasp the edge of the red scarf gently.
"It's warm..."
Mikazuki turned his eyes down to see Dr. Jaeger walk up to Mikasa, "Mikasa," he said before turning to face Mikazuki, who promptly turned to look at the sky, "Mikazuki, why don't you two live with us?"
What? Mikazuki was doubtful of the proposition – for some reason – and was distrustful of the doctor. An individual with medical services in such high demand in an era without substantial medical and economical advancements would rarely ever house the children of a hunter and dressmaker unless their capital was substantial enough to afford such a luxury, in which case one would question the—why was Mikazuki questioning the reason why Dr. Jaeger was offering help? Dr. Jaeger hadn't ever been rude — the good doctor had been helpful and a friend to Mikazuki's mother and father. So why was he so distrustful of a friend of his Mama and Papa—
"GAAAH!" his head hurt. He felt as if someone was pouring magma into his gullet. Mikazuki clutched his pounding skull and curled into a ball before falling off of some log he had been laid atop of.
"Mika!" he heard Mikasa cry out as glimpses of incomprehensible text were projected in his mind.
The unrelenting torrent was much too great for a child's mind to process or bear. An unfamiliar yet familiar voice, eerie and mocking, spoke to Mikazuki in chummy manner with an ethereal echo before he passed out due to the pain.
"Hey, Mika..."
—WARFRAME—
MAKYR: Greetings. I'm Makyr. You may be asking why I decided to make this. I did it because I had too much time.
MAKYR: If you aren't a particularly huge Warframe fan and only know SNK/AOT, then you won't understand the story, because it's going to be very heavy on Warframe lore. So, in case you're a Warframe fan — complete "The New War" and "Duviri Paradox" before reading this. Maybe read a few Codex entries, too... I read a lot of the codices and Cephalon fragments... I really wish DE would make the lore less vague and more clear. It gives me – an indecisive prick – an aneurysm trying to decide which interpretation of lore I should adhere to.
MAKYR: If you have any critiques on my Fanfic, then comment them. Make them critical, not bashing, though. I'll ignore bashing.
MAKYR: And before anyone else comments it: I know my descriptions in other character's POVs are stilted and static. I genuinely cannot comprehend Grisha, Eren, or Mikasa, so I find their parts to be absolutely shit compared to Mikazuki's. And yes, I named him after my favorite cardboard cutout. If Isayama can name Mikasa after a battleship, I can name my OC after a sociopath.
MAKYR: Anyway, that's all. I'll probably upload a new chapter on January when factoring in my writer's block.