It is cold, he feels it.

But this cold creeping up his spine isn't due to the icy morning air, isn't from the rain gently tapping against the windows of the conference room, and definitely not because he is missing a layer of clothing from his uniform.

Floch Forster is reacquainting himself with the feeling of uncertainty, helpless to watch it waltz back into his life like an unwelcome guest. It is an integral part of his existence that he wishes were eradicated. Uncertainty comes to everyone at some point or another, whether it's in the form of the weather, a relationship, or the future of an entire island and its people. For Floch, it's not every day that he shares the responsibility for the fate of the entire world, and it's not every day that the person he shares this responsibility with flees, leaving behind their fair share of the weight to crush his shoulders

He looks down at the stack of papers in front of him, worn and dog-eared from countless readings. The drone of his colleagues' voices washes over him, a monotonous wave of bureaucracy. He absent-mindedly sketches over the report in rough, squiggly lines, a momentary distraction from the implications of this meeting. The characters take shape under his pencil, forming a chaotic dance across the back of the page. He briefly wonders what they might represent, but then the moment passes, and he returns to the meeting with a sigh.

He looks around the room, taking note of all the people present. He wonders what half of these men have done in their entire careers to earn their seats next to the rest of them, especially those who could benefit from a morning jog. His gaze eventually settles on the backs of Hange Zoe and the two men sitting on either side of her. He watches them for a moment, before he looks away.

He sneers condescendingly, a bitter sound that echoes through the room. The irony is not lost on him - surrounded by the kingdom's brightest minds and bravest hearts, and yet they are all helpless in the face of the chaos left behind by Eren Yeager. None of them have the answers he seeks, none of them can bring back the certainty he once felt when he followed that lying bastard's call to trample the outside world. The memory of his previous commander, weighs heavily on his heart. How they cast him aside like a broken toy, in favor of some naive kid who doesn't quite wake up from his dreams in the morning. He thinks of Erwin Smith, the only one who could possibly have led them through this crisis. But Erwin is gone, replaced by a hollow shell of a leader who has brought them to the brink of destruction. It all seems so laughable now, as he sits among the wreckage of his own shattered illusions.

"It's been confirmed by Zeke Yeager. Eren Yeager and Mikasa Ackermann are gone for good," Hange declares. "They're on the run, and we don't know where, we may never find them again." Her voice lowers to a growl, murmurs break out around her.

He doesn't bother to check if the others caught it too. No reassuring glance to to the wide-eyed Connie, no comforting pat to the collapsed Sasha leaning against the table, and no eye contact with good ol' Jeanbo. His attention doesn't stray from the Queen's piercing blue sapphires, as the news sinks in. The weight of the situation looms over them all, but he and the Queen share a wordless exchange that says it all, and everything else fades away into the background. Both of them victims to the lies of Eren Yeager.

They were wrapped around his finger, willing to go through with his wicked plan. Even at the cost of their humanity. He couldn't count the number of nights he spent twisting and turning in his bed, awake with the weight of the atrocities they were about to commit. Both wondered if it's worth it, if the end justifies the means, but they have committed too deeply to turn back. (Until now, obviously.) Then, in the blink of an eye, Yeager disappears without rhyme or reason. Leaving them stranded in a world of his own making. Hope, that fragile ember they clung to in the past, is yanked from their chests like a serrated knife, leaving behind only the raw ache of disappointment and betrayal. The Queen didn't reach that realization yet, but he did. Looking back on it now, he recognizes they were nothing more than pawns in his game, expendable tools to be used and discarded.

He can sense her desperation for answers too. They might have that conversation privately later, under the guise of a moonlit stroll through the royal gardens or in some secluded chamber. He doesn't relish the thought of it, however. He doubts anything good could come from it. They may end up airing their grievances, sharing the pain over the betrayal. But as he steals another glance at her, with her icy and firm composure, all he can think about is the gutting sensation he'll feel as he shatters her façade and delivers the final blow of confirmation.

The meeting drags on, each passing minute more excruciating than the last. When it finally concludes, Floch can feel the weight of disappointment settling in his gut. They have accomplished nothing but acknowledge the fact they were all screwed. Floch stands up and follows after his commander, feeling the Queen's gaze burning into the back of his head. He resists the urge to turn around and meet her eyes, knowing that he was already on thin ice. Instead, he falls in line with Jean and the rest of their clique, trudging through the palace's corridors. The sound of their footsteps echoes off the stone walls, in a dull and monotonous rhythm.

When they finally emerge into the cobblestone courtyard, the rain is a gentle patter against the ground. The air smells of wet stone and earth, and Floch can feel the dampness seeping into his clothes. He leans back against the cool stone wall, staring out at the courtyard without really seeing it. His scout companions huddle together with him under the arches, waiting for the commander and captain to regroup. They speak in hushed tones but Floch doesn't pay them any mind. The minutes pass, the rain grows more insistent.

Suddenly, a thought occurs to him. He turns to the others, a single question in mind.

"Where's Armin?"

They pause whatever conversations they were in, their faces contorted with unease. It's clear they don't have a clue about his whereabouts, and Floch understands it. He shifts his gaze back to the courtyard, a tiny voice inside him whispers that he knew where to find the boy. As this realization dawns on him, he releases an involuntary chuckle.

Of course.

A fierce sneer creases his face, his eyes blazing with an all-consuming rage that boils in his chest. He pushes himself away from the wall and walks into the rain, he can feel the wetness soaking into his clothes, the chill spreading into his bones. But he doesn't care. He knows this is a bad idea. But again, he doesn't care. He ignores the calls of his companions left behind. His brisk pace quickly turns into a determined jog, which eventually escalates into a full-blown sprint. His heart pounds in his chest, the rainy wind whips through his hair and plasters it to his forehead, but he pays no heed to the discomfort as he barrels towards the female titan's holding area.

He reaches the far end of the palace, making his way through the winding corridors. His footsteps echoing loudly against the marble floors. A couple of guards attempt to stop him, but he shoves past them roughly, making them stumble. They scramble to give chase, but he barrels to the dungeon like a man possessed. Finally, he reaches his destination. Eyes wide with disbelief and a hint of expectation as he spots that familiar mop of blond hair, sitting cross-legged in front of Annie Leonhart's crystal coffin. Armin turns towards him surprise and confusion etched on his face. Floch never breaks eye contact as he slowly descends the steps, by this point, Armin has sensed that something was amiss and stands up.

"F-Floch?" He stutters in his confusion.

"Why weren't you at the meeting?" He steps forward, leaving a wet trail on the cobblestone.

The boy's eyes widen, he begins stammering. "I- I was... going to-"

"-Keep talking to that corpse all day long?

Armin remains silent, and Floch's frustration reaches a boiling point. Without a second thought, he throws a wild punch at his face, the sound of bone cracking echoing in the blond staggers back, his hands flying to his nose to stem the blood flowing from his nostrils. Floch freezes for a moment, his mind reeling from what he's just done. But the shock is quickly replaced by anger, and he lunges at Armin with a primal cry. Pounding into his body with a brutal ferocity that sends shockwaves of pain through his own arms. The blond offers little resistance, too stunned by the sudden attack to fight back. He soon finds himself pinned beneath the larger teen. He feels the bones in his face shifting under the force of Floch's blows, can taste the bitter tang of blood in his mouth.

He punches until his knuckles are raw and bloody, and still, he doesn't stop. The worst part is the screaming, Floch is screaming at him, his voice raw with anguish and desperation, tears streaming down his face as he leans in closer to Armin's battered form and clutches him tightly by the collar. Armin can feel the heat of his breath on his face, the spittle flying from his mouth as he curses and wails. It echoes off the walls of the room, and people gather above by the stairs to watch. Floch finally exhausts himself, he leans away and looks up at the ceiling, struggling to catch his breath. He releases a chuckle, which slowly turns into a full-blown laughter as tears continue to fall.

"You pathetic, useless, ungrateful piece of SHIT!" He spits in a chuckle as looks back down at him, punching him again. "How many meetings have you skipped just to come see this psychotic whore?! She is our enemy and yet you still insist on visiting her like she's some old friend!"

He tilts his head up at Annie in disdain, disgusted by how peaceful she looked.

"So, Annie. Has this bastard ever spoke to you about a nobody like me? We were in the same class you know? I was there that day in Shiganshina, cowering on the ground while your friends slaughtered everyone I knew and loved. But I bet he didn't tell you about that." He says in a hoarse and broken voice. "He never tells you about all the sacrifices we have to make for him and his friends, he wouldn't be able to tell you how Eren and Mikasa spit on all of our faces after everything we've done for them. He doesn't know that his two precious friends ran away for good and left us all behind to die, because this waste of life never bothers to show up to our stupid fucking meetings."

Armin's heart skips a beat.

"What is going on here?!" Hitch Dreyse asks as she pushes past the gathered crowd at the entrance of Annie's cell, she gasps in shock seeing the unfolding scene.

"Isn't that wonderful..." His tone lowers, as he covers his face and starts quietly sobbing.

"F-Floch..." He breathes out, missing a few teeth.

Floch peeks at him from between his fingers, his anger resurfacing. A couple of footsteps could be heard frantically approaching from behind.

"W-why you..."

He snarls, his fist raised and ready to strike again. Armin lies on the ground, battered and bruised. Suddenly, Jean and Connie arrive and grab him, pulling him away from the blond.

"Stop it, Floch!" Jean calls out as he grips Floch's wrist, forcing him to let go of Armin. "What the hell are you doing?!"

Floch struggles against their grip, his eyes fixed on Armin. "Let go of me!" he shouts, his voice filled with frustration.

More people gather around them, trying to break up the fight. Hitch runs over to Armin's side, looking worried as she checks on his injuries. Floch continues to glare at him, his rage barely contained.

"Can you hear me, Armin?" Floch shouts, his voice echoing through the dungeon. "I convinced the only two friends I've ever had to die in Shiganshina! I urged them to sign up and fight for the cause! I watched them ride towards their deaths screaming and crying! A hundred soldiers torn to shreds and left to rot, not a single one of them buried! We traded our commander for your pathetic life because your friends couldn't let you go! And what have you done for us in return? Absolutely nothing!"

Hitch frowns, She sees the pain and anger etched on Floch's face, and the fear and confusion on Armin's. Floch's voice grows louder as they pull him up the stairs.

"Your life was not a gift, Armin Arlert! It was paid for in blood, and you squandered it!"

He disappears behind the crowd of bystanders. Hitch looks down at Armin, watching as his wounds slowly heal. She hears Floch's voice one last time as they drag him away.

"IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ERWIN!"


Floch's world had shrunk to the confines of a cell. The nights passed by in a blur, like a recurring nightmare that wouldn't let him go. He knew he deserved to be here, to be punished for what he did no matter how justifiable it felt. But it wasn't because of Armin. No, the boy had pleaded for his release oddly enough. It was because of the other thing, the thing that had pushed him over the edge to beating him senseless to begin with.

In his moment of blind fury, he didn't think twice before letting slip the confidential information shared in their meeting. The bystanders, lurking behind in the shadows of the dungeon, overheard every word about Eren and Mikasa. The leak spread throughout Paradis like a wildfire, and by the evening even the peasant housewives were discussing the rumor. But for him, it hardly matters now. Their fate was sealed. He could do nothing but sit back in this cell, and wonder where he'll end up next. As if it's even worth pondering. Ever since he joined the survey corps his life has become an endless cycle of despair, with no escape in sight.

Perhaps that's why they refered to it as a den of madmen, maybe all he needed was a few screws loose to be able to cope with this mounting pressure.

His ears prick up at the sound of approaching footsteps, but he keeps his gaze fixed on the cracked wall before him. The rhythmic thud of boots gorws louder and louder, until they come to a sudden halt right outside his cell. He can feel the weight of someone's presence lignering just beyond the bars, studying him with silent scrutiny. He doesn't acknowledge them, but his body is tense. The figure remains quiet, taking in his disheveled state.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, they speak.

"You stirred up quite the shitstorm, you know that right?" She remarks, her voice tinged with a mix of irritation and a begrudging admiration. "The brass is in full panic mode."

Ah, Hitch.

Floch turns to face her, feeling a twinge of surprise at the first words they've exchanged in over three years. "I am aware." He replies, his tone even and measured.

"You went too far, you're usually harmless." She shifts her weight to one side, her left arm resting on her hip as she eyes him with a hint of disdain. "Did you really have to do that to Armin?"

"What do you mean?" Floch stares back at her unflinchingly, his jaw clenching slightly. "I merely reprimanded him for missing an important meeting."

"Somebody had to clean up all the blood you spilled. Janitor kept stepping over fallen teeth," She retorts, her tone sharp and biting. "Tsk, lucky for you I'm the only one who had any real issues with what you did. The rest are singing your praises." She sighs.

He blinks, an eyebrow raised curiously. "Is that so?"

"Tends to happen when the victim of the crime spends a lot of time near a dangerous terrorist but still." Hitch furrows her brow, her expression reflecting a mixture of sympathy and disapproval. "It wasn't right."

"So why the visit?"

Hitch looks uncomfortable for a moment, her gaze flickering away from his. "Just felt the need to check on you, that's all," She says innocently, but he knows better.

"I doubt that," He replies, eyes narrowing slightly. "The last time we spoke it didn't exactly end on a good note, even I can acknowledge that." He turns to meet her gaze again. "So if you're not here to pick my brain, then what are you here for?"

She looks down at the ground, a weak smile on her lips. "You're as sharp as you are insufferable," She concedes, her voice softening. She moves closer to the cell, fiddling with her keys before pushing the bars open. "Congratulations, somebody up top ordered your release."

Floch's face remains neutral, though inwardly his mind races with questions. It fills him with a sense of unease, a feeling that's he's become far too familiar with lately. He stands up and moves out of the shadows, stopping right in front of Hitch as the two stare into each other's eyes. Hitch begins to feel uncomfortable with the proximity and takes a few steps back. "Jeez, you smell bad! Anyway..." She laughs it off awkwardly, but the tension in the air remains plapable.

Floch asks her with a low voice. "Do you have any idea about who authorized this?"

She cocks her head and ponders for a moments before shrugging carelessly. "Nope, but they're waiting for you outside."

He nods curtly and motions for her to lead the way. The rest of the walk is silent and awkward, but they didn't need to say anything to each other. He notices it's night outside. They both come to a halt at the front entrance, a carriage waiting for him next to it a few men he didn't recognize.

"Floch Forster?" One of them asks, his voice rough and gruff.

The teen nods, his heart pounding in his chest. "Come with us."

Floch takes a quick glance at Hitch. "Guess I'll see you around."

"Don't hold your breath," she replies coolly, her eyes betraying a hint of worry as she makes her way back inside.

Floch sighs through his nose, might as well get it over with.

He makes his way inside the carriage, the interior is dimly lit, and the air is musty and stale with the scent of leather. He sits down in the middle, flanked by two men as the carriage immediately takes off. The ride is long and bumpy, the sound of the wheels grinding against the uneven road almost deafening in the silence. Floch's mind races with questions, but he knows better than to ask. The men beside him remain silent, their faces stoic and unreadable.

The carriage comes to a stop at a familiar location, Floch's heart races with anticipation. He steps out and feels the soft earth giving way beneath his weight. He takes in the sight of the Queen's homestead, memories flood his mind from his previous visit. A scowl briefly forms on his face as he remembers the man he escorted to these grounds. The guards nod to him in a certain direction, and Floch nods back. He steels himself for what's ahead and makes his way towards the back of the house.

As he rounds the corner, he catches sight of the Queen facing a bonfire, her red shawl and modest dress catching his attention. Approaching her, he takes a deep breath and bows respectfully.

"Your Majesty,"

"Ah, you're finally here," The Queen says, acknowledging his presence without turning to face him. "Sit."

Floch sits down across from her, studying her features. For a moment, she seems distant, lost in her thoughts. Her blank expression is hard to decipher but he could make out a hint of weariness shining in her eyes. She's gazing into the flickering flames, as she speaks, her voice carrying a wistful quality. "It's been a long time since I sat around a campfire like this. It feels almost nostalgic."

"I'm not really here to discuss the good old days with you am I?"

She doesn't answer immediately, taking a moment to collect her thoughts as she pokes at the fire with a stick. His eyes fixate on the flames, and a for few moments he finds himself lost. "I've heard what you've done to Armin, how you beat him senseless." she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

He looks her in the eyes, there's a sadness there, something deeper than mere reminiscence. Floch stiffens, expecting an accusation or reprimand. But when her Majesty continues, he realizes that this conversation is headed in another direction.

"Is it true then?" she asks, her eyes locked onto his. "Has Eren really abandoned us all?"

Floch hesitates, knowing that the truth will shatter her. But he can't bring himself to lie to her, that's not who he is.

"It is."

He watches her crumble slowly before his eyes.

Her face pales, and she stares at him in shock.

He swallows hard, "It... It was the plan for him to leave for Marley, we both knew that." He continues, frowning as he did. "But Mikasa, she had no part in that. Until now." He grits his teeth, averting his gaze. "I was the first to know, that volunteer, Yelena. She told me a few weeks in advance that he hasn't contacted Zeke, and that's all I needed to hear."

"How can you be sure about that?" She asks in denial.

He looks up at her, voice heavy with regret. "Eren knew something I didn't, every move he made back then was calculated, everything ran like clockwork. I was the person he chose to put things into motion, because there's a reason he confided in the both of us and not the others." He chuckles weakly, a bitterness in his tone. "Because as deadly as she can be, Mikasa Ackermann is not fucked enough in the head to agree to that."

She doesn't react to the implications of that, instead, the two sit in silence for a while, the only sound emitting from the crackling fire between them. Finally, she stands up with a sigh and motions for him to follow. "Let's go for a walk." She says, but he doesn't question it.

She grabs an oil lamp from the back of the house then turns around and waves at the guards, none follow after them as the two make their way to a nearby forest. The walk is silent, with seemingly no destination in sight. Floch studies the back of her head, his mind racing with a million thoughts. Though she looked indifferent, he could sense a storm brewed within. His musings are cut short when they reach a clearing by a small lake, and she takes a seat on a log by the shore.

He stands a few feet behind her, as she sets the lamp down to the side. As she gazes out at the water, she breaks the silence. "So, he's really gone then." She repeats with a mix of bitterness and sorrow.

"Yes."

The Queen begins to laugh, the sound harsh and broken. "Of course he is," She chokes out between sobs. "Why did I ever think he would stay?"

Floch feels a pang of sympathy for her, but he's never been good at comforting people. Still, he places a tentative hand on her shoulder, offering what little comfort he can. "We couldn't have known." he murmurs, more to himself than to her.

But she only laughs harder, "I should have known better!" She says, her voice rising in pitch. "I am such an idiot!"

Floch doesn't know how to answer her. He can feel her grief pressing down on him, he realizes that they're all in uncharted territory now. But he offers a firm squeeze of sympathy on her shoulder. The hysteric laughter fades into an agonized wailing and eventually quiet down into hushed sobs. Floch patiently allows her to vent out and sits down on the log beside her offering a silent support, gazing up towards the sky. He knows that there's nothing he can do to ease her suffering, because nobody can do the same for him.

He glances at her from the side, "Your Majesty, maybe we-" He suggest but she cuts him off.

"Oh for fuck's sake," She says in exasperation, "Just call me by my name, we sat in class together and I had to suffer through your arguments with Jean all the time, It's the least you could do for me." She sniffles.

"Right, Historia." Floch mutters, as he struggles to find the right words. It felt strange to call her by her name again, last time he had done that she went by Krista.

Historia's breaths come out in ragged gasps, her eyes fixed on a point in the distance."God, I still can't believe it. He's gone just like that, after everything we've all been through together." She whispers, her voice choked with emotion as a sad smile spreads on her face. "He played us like a fiddle, talking us into this and all..."

Floch nods, his eyes downcast. "Tell me about it, It's almost comical to think about."

"Like some really bad joke," she adds with a hint of amusement.

"Well, the joke's on us now. We're the ones left dealing with the aftermath."

"We- we kept quiet, helped him and then..."

His jaw tightens. "Yeah,"

"Just two morons sitting in front of a lake, thinking they were about to help end this stupid world," Historia jokes, her voice heavy with regret.

A curt laugh escapes his lips. "Worked out well for us."

"At least It would make for a good story," Historia chuckles softly, but there's no real joy in it. "I just wish things had turned out differently. That we could have found another way without resorting to such extreme measures, without relying on him."

With that, they both lapse into a silence, each lost in their own thoughts of what could have been.

"Back then, when I came to terms with it, I was... excited you know? I heard what the outside world was like, hell, I saw it with my own eyes when we took in those Marleyan prisoners. And I saw how the government was not really making any solid progress." His expression darkened. "I... I know it's wrong, but it finally felt like I was going to do something that mattered. It felt like it was the only way, for our home, our people, our way of life."

She listens to him intently, gazing at the side of his face as his eyes roamed the horizon.

"I'm not ashamed of it, I'm not sorry either, It's what I believed in. Maybe it wasn't the right path, but I would still do it if it meant protecting Eldia." He pauses, taking a deep breath. "I'm not a good person, I know that. I hurt people because I don't have it in me to not say it like it is. If I don't agree, I'll make myself known, I'm that kind of guy."

Historia's eyes widen, seeing tears well up in his eyes.

"Sandra, Gordon, commander Erwin, even Marlowe and all the others that were there with me. I just wanted to make their sacrifices worth it in the end. Eren didn't force my hand, I wanted this for myself, for all of them, deceased or living. It was all for her, Eldia." His voice breaks.

"Floch.." She mutters softly.

"When I signed up to help reclaim wall Maria, I had these idiotic delusions of fame and glory, and what do you know? It only took about a hundred lives and a giant monkey for me to realize that I was nothing but a joke. I thought that I outgrew that, but before I knew it I was walking down that same path again, still the same old glory hound."

He sighs, and leans back to stare at the sky above. "I do think I was a fool to trust him, but I was desperate and didn't know any better. Maybe, in a twisted way, this is just karma for all those amibitions I built." He ruefully chuckles. "Karma's a bitch, isn't it?" He comments, tone laced with resentment.

Her eyes flicker with a mixture of pity and understanding "Sometimes, circumstances just happen to lead us down dark paths we never intended to take."

"Maybe." Flochs says, his voice low and contemplative. "But I'd do anything for this country, no matter the cost."

"I know you would. And maybe that's what scares me the most. That we were willing to do anything, even sacrifice our own humanity, all to achieve that goal."

Floch glances at her from the corner of his eye. "That's why he chose us."

"Yeah." She mutters back to him. "You know, I'm used to it by now." She starts, as he raises a curious brow. "Every important person in my life walked out on me for one reason or another, my older sister, Ymir and Now, Eren."

"That's rough." He comments.

"I was just, in shock that's all. Everytime It happens it just stings even worse than the last. And all that's left is this ache in my heart that I don't know what to do with. I just wonder, why is it that nobody has ever chosen me? What part of me makes them want to leave? Am I not worth staying for?" She frowns, and Floch averts his gaze.

"This feels like a trap." He answers honestly, and she chuckles, wiping away the tears.

"Not going to risk an opportunity to flirt with your Queen?" She teases.

"I'm already on thin ice."

"You are, they were going to have you executed for leaking information before I had to step in." She informs him.

"Oh. I see." He replies, not surprised in the slightest. "I had a sneaking suspicion that I got off the hook too easy."

They sit in comfortable silence for a while, the lamp finally gives out. She lets out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping.

"I'm five months pregnant."

His eyes widen in shock as he stares off into the distance, a single sound rising out of his throat.

"Damn."


Hello, hope you enjoy this. I always wondered if there were fics that were about the consequences of that cabin sequence from Mikasa's "visions", (but I never really bothered to search for them.) So what better way to explore that other than to make Floch-centric fic that covers it?!

This is officially my second "serious" Fic after "Seeking the devil" I was originally going to keep this a one shot, but I decided to expand it more. Do tell me what you think!