The sun blazed overhead, casting long shadows across the training grounds. The cadets of the 104th Training Corps were spread out, sparring in pairs, the sharp clang of practice blades filling the air. Dust kicked up with every footfall as sweat dripped down their faces. Despite the relentless pace of the drills, no one dared slacken their efforts—not under the watchful eyes of the instructors.

Eren Yeager stood at the far end of the grounds, his body tense and alert. His partner, Jean Kirstein, circled him warily, eyes narrowed in concentration. Eren could see the beads of sweat trickling down Jean's temple, the slight tremor in his grip on the practice blade. They had been going at it for what felt like hours, and both of them were nearing their limits.

But Eren wasn't going to back down.

With a sudden burst of speed, Eren lunged forward, his blade slicing through the air in a wide arc. Jean barely had time to react, raising his own weapon to block the strike. The force of the impact sent a shockwave up Jean's arm, nearly knocking him off balance. Gritting his teeth, he pushed back, trying to regain control of the fight.

Eren didn't give him the chance. He twisted on his heel, spinning behind Jean in one fluid motion, and delivered a sharp blow to the back of his leg. Jean staggered forward with a grunt, his defenses crumbling.

Eren moved in for the finishing strike, but before he could land the blow, a loud voice cut through the air.

"Enough!"

Instructor Shadis' command echoed across the training grounds, and Eren froze mid-swing. Jean stumbled to a stop, panting heavily, his face flushed with a mix of exertion and frustration.

Shadis strode toward them, his gaze flicking between the two cadets. "Yeager, Kirstein, fall in line. I'm calling it for today."

The rest of the cadets were already gathering around, forming neat rows as they prepared for dismissal. Eren sheathed his practice blade, stepping back to join his comrades. As he passed Jean, he caught a glimpse of the other boy's scowl—a dark, resentful look that sent a pang of guilt through him.

But what had Jean expected? This was training. They were supposed to push themselves to the limit. Eren couldn't afford to hold back, not if he wanted to be ready for the real fight.

As they stood in formation, Shadis' voice boomed across the group. "Listen up, cadets! Tomorrow, you'll be taking on a full ODM gear exercise in the forest. It'll test your speed, agility, and teamwork. If you fail, you'll be held back for additional training. If you succeed, you move on to the next phase. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" the cadets shouted in unison.

"Good," Shadis said. His gaze lingered on Eren for a brief moment, a subtle reminder of the expectations weighing on his shoulders. Then, without another word, Shadis turned and dismissed them for the day.

As the cadets dispersed, Eren felt a hand clap him on the shoulder. He turned to see Armin standing beside him, his usual gentle smile in place. "You did great out there today, Eren. You're getting stronger every day."

Eren forced a smile in return. "Thanks, Armin. I just… I want to be ready, you know? For when we're out there, for real."

Armin nodded, his expression turning serious. "We all do. But you don't have to carry that burden alone, Eren. We're in this together."

Before Eren could respond, another voice cut in—this one dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, Yeager. We all know how special you are. Maybe you could give the rest of us a break and let someone else have a chance."

Eren turned to see Jean approaching, his arms crossed over his chest. There was a bitter edge to his words, and Eren couldn't help but bristle at the accusation.

"What's your problem, Jean?" Eren snapped, his fists clenching at his sides. "We're training to survive, not to make friends."

Jean scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "You think this is just about survival? You're so obsessed with being the best that you don't even see what it's doing to the rest of us. Not everyone can keep up with you, Eren. Some of us are struggling just to stay in the game, and all you care about is proving how special you are."

Eren opened his mouth to argue, but the words caught in his throat. Was that really how the others saw him? As someone who didn't care about his comrades, who only cared about winning?

Before the tension could escalate, Mikasa stepped between them, her calm, steady presence diffusing the situation. She looked at Jean with her usual cool gaze, her voice quiet but firm. "This isn't the time for arguments. We're all here to fight the Titans. That's what matters."

Jean huffed but didn't push the issue further. With one last glare at Eren, he turned and walked away, leaving the three of them standing in awkward silence.

Eren's chest tightened with frustration. He wanted to shout after Jean, to tell him that he was wrong, that Eren did care about his comrades. But the words wouldn't come. Instead, he stood there, his mind racing with doubts and questions he didn't know how to answer.

Armin placed a comforting hand on Eren's shoulder, his voice soft. "Don't let it get to you, Eren. Jean's just… frustrated. We all are."

Eren nodded, though the tension in his chest didn't ease. "Yeah. I guess."

But even as he said the words, Eren couldn't shake the feeling that something was shifting within him—something dark and dangerous. The weight of expectations was growing heavier by the day, and no matter how hard he pushed himself, it never seemed to be enough.

You're special, Eren. His mother's voice echoed in his mind again, and this time, it felt like a curse.