Chapter Two - The Siren's Call
The air was heavy with the scent of saltwater and tension as Onyakapon and Yelena continued
to explain the strange and mysterious world of sirens. The scouts stood in a loose circle, all
eyes focused on the two outsiders who seemed to know more about this than anyone could
have guessed. The distant sound of waves crashing against the shore was the only thing that
interrupted the stillness between their words.
Onyakapon adjusted his stance, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked from Eren to
the rest of the scouts. His expression was serious, almost somber. "That siren you saw… she
didn't just start watching Eren today. She's been observing him for weeks now, probably longer.
It's just that today, she decided to reveal a part of herself. Let him know she's watching, that
she's interested."
"Watching him for weeks?" Jean asked, his brow furrowing in disbelief. "How's that even
possible? We've been training here for a while and none of us noticed anything."
Onyakapon nodded slowly. "That's because sirens are patient. They can stay underwater for
long periods of time without needing to surface, and they know how to blend in with the
environment. If they don't want to be seen, you won't see them."
"Great," Connie muttered. "So we've been spied on by some underwater stalker."
Levi shot Connie a sharp look, silencing him. He then turned his attention back to Onyakapon,
his eyes narrowing in thought. "So she's been watching Eren. Why reveal herself now?"
Yelena answered this time, her voice smooth and calm. "She's testing him, trying to gauge his
reaction. It's not unusual for a siren to do this before making contact. They are… selective in
choosing mates. She wanted to make sure he's worthy of her attention, but also to let him know
she's there."
Mikasa's jaw clenched at Yelena's words, her frustration clear as she crossed her arms tighter
across her chest. She couldn't believe they were seriously talking about Eren being watched by
some sea creature. Worse, they were discussing it like it was normal. The tension in her
muscles was unbearable as she fought the urge to speak again, but she knew she had to let
them finish explaining.
"Sirens in their human form are… easy to spot," Yelena continued, her sharp eyes scanning the
group. "They have unnatural beauty—hair and eye colors that stand out, colors that humans
don't have. Their appearance is almost otherworldly. And while they can take on human shapes,
their allure is unmistakable. Their beauty is… unsettling."
Sasha, always the curious one, raised a hand slightly. "Unnatural beauty? Like, what? Bright red
hair or something?"
"Or lavender," Yelena added with a faint smile. "Or gold. Teal, orange. Their beauty doesn't fit
with the normal human appearance. It's more than just their looks, though. They carry an aura
with them, something that draws people in. It's part of their power. All sirens are seductive by
nature, though their personalities differ greatly. Some are sweet, others fiery. But in the end,
they're all designed to captivate, to pull in those they find worthy."
Mikasa's lips thinned into a hard line as she looked at Eren. His expression hadn't
changed—still cold, still unreadable—but the idea that some strange, alluring woman had been
silently watching him for weeks, studying him like prey, made her blood boil.
"So… she's been watching me," Eren said, breaking the silence. His tone was flat, emotionless.
"For weeks."
Onyakapon gave a solemn nod. "Yes. It's not uncommon for a siren to do that before revealing
herself. They don't rush into things. Sirens take their time when selecting a mate. They need to
know the man they choose is strong, capable of protecting them, and more importantly, capable
of handling the power they offer."
Eren's gaze drifted back toward the ocean, as if searching for a trace of the siren beneath the
waves. He was calm, composed, but beneath the surface, there was an unmistakable intensity,
as though the connection with the siren was already pulling at something deep within him.
"But it's not just her," Yelena said, her voice taking on a more ominous tone. "If one siren is here,
watching Eren, it's very likely there are more."
The scouts all exchanged uneasy glances. Armin stepped forward slightly, his brow furrowed in
thought. "What do you mean by 'more'?"
Onyakapon took a deep breath before explaining. "Sirens travel in pods—groups of them,
usually six or seven. It's safer that way, especially with the threat of siren hunters. The pod
provides protection, strength in numbers. But eventually, every siren leaves the pod when it's
time to find a mate. They split off, traveling alone or in pairs, searching for the strongest man to
bond with."
"So, you're saying there's a whole group of these things out there?" Reiner asked, his voice
laced with skepticism.
"It's possible," Onyakapon replied. "In fact, it's likely. If one siren has revealed herself to Eren, it
could mean her pod is nearby. They may all be searching for mates in the same area."
Jean let out a low groan, rubbing the back of his neck. "Great. So now we've got a whole group
of seductive sea creatures stalking us. Fantastic."
"They're not stalking you," Yelena corrected him, her voice cool and almost amused. "They're
watching, observing. It's their nature. They want to understand you before they approach."
Connie raised an eyebrow, his usual playful demeanor replaced with concern. "And if there are
more of them? What are we supposed to do if an entire pod decides we're all prime mate
material?"
"You won't need to worry unless you give them a reason to," Onyakapon assured him. "Sirens
are not hostile unless provoked. If they sense danger, if they believe their chosen mate is in
trouble, they'll defend themselves. But if you leave them be, they won't harm you. They're here
for one reason—to bond."
Levi's eyes narrowed at Onyakapon. "And how exactly do we know they won't become hostile?
You've said yourself they're vulnerable on land. Why wouldn't they see us as a threat?"
"They won't," Yelena answered, her tone firm. "Not unless we make the first move. Sirens are
cautious, but they're not irrational. They understand the stakes. And when they find the right
mate, they are fiercely loyal. It's why they don't rush into anything—they want to be certain."
"Certain of what?" Sasha asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
"That the man they choose will protect them for life," Yelena said softly. "That he will understand
the bond they are offering."
Eren stood quietly, his mind turning over the information. His gaze remained fixed on the dark
horizon, the pull of something ancient and unknown tugging at the edges of his thoughts. He
knew the siren was still out there, watching, waiting. And if she had been watching him for
weeks, observing him, it meant she saw something in him that he had yet to fully understand.
Mikasa's frustration was palpable as she stepped closer to Eren, her voice lowered but filled
with urgency. "Eren, this doesn't make any sense. You don't know her. You don't know what she
wants."
"I know enough," Eren said, his voice quiet but resolute.
"You've never even spoken to her!" Mikasa's voice was rising again, her emotions spilling over.
"You can't just… go along with this! She's not human. She's not—"
"Mikasa," Eren interrupted, his tone cold and distant. "I've made my choice."
The finality in his voice silenced her. She looked at him, her heart heavy, as if she could feel him
slipping further and further away, into a world she couldn't follow.
The waves continued to crash against the shore, the sound of the ocean filling the silence
between them. And somewhere beneath the surface the siren, the siren, waited. Her gaze still
fixed on the man she had chosen.
The wind off the sea was beginning to pick up, carrying the salty scent of the ocean across the
beach as the scouts continued to absorb what they were hearing. The weight of the revelations
seemed to hang heavily in the air. Eren still stood at the edge of the group, his eyes
occasionally flicking back to the water where the siren had been, but otherwise, he was silent,
unreadable.
Onyakapon paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before continuing. The tension in the
group was palpable—especially with Mikasa, whose frustration and confusion were practically
radiating off her. But even she seemed to be waiting for more answers, no matter how much she
might disagree with everything being said.
"Sirens only mate with human men," Onyakapon said, his voice carrying over the sound of the
waves. "It's part of their biology. They seek out the strongest, most capable men, because the
bond between a siren and her mate is… sacred. It's how their species continues."
Hange, who had been relatively quiet up until now, suddenly burst to life, her hands flying into
the air in frustration. "Only human men? Do you know how frustrating that is?!" she exclaimed,
her eyes wide with a mix of excitement and agitation. "We're talking about an entirely new
species—one that can transform, sing songs that can control minds, and apparently live
underwater! And I can't even experience that bond or get close for research because I'm—what,
the wrong gender?"
Levi, standing next to her, let out a soft, exasperated sigh. "Of course that's what you'd be
concerned about."
Yelena gave Hange a small smile, though there was no amusement in her eyes. "It's not about
being the 'wrong gender.' Sirens are only female. Their species doesn't have male counterparts.
They need human men to continue their lineage, and that's how it's been for centuries."
"Right," Hange muttered, crossing her arms and staring out at the sea as if she could summon a
siren for an impromptu experiment. "Of course, they'd all be women. Just my luck."
Onyakapon chuckled lightly but quickly returned to his explanation. "Because of this, all sirens
are technically half human, half siren. They inherit human DNA from their fathers, which allows
them to take on human forms when needed. But make no mistake—they are more siren than
human. Their powers, their nature, their instincts… it all comes from the sea."
Armin's curiosity piqued as he leaned forward slightly. "So, their ability to switch between
forms… that's because of their human side?"
Onyakapon nodded. "Exactly. Without human fathers, they wouldn't have the ability to take on
human shapes. It's a part of what makes them such powerful and adaptable beings. But their
true strength—everything they are—it comes from the sea."
Sasha tilted her head, still trying to process all the information. "And the males? If sirens are all
female, what happens when they have sons?"
Yelena's eyes gleamed slightly as she answered, her voice steady and measured. "Males born
from sirens are always just human. They don't inherit the powers of their mothers. However, it's
not uncommon for sons of sirens to have an affinity for the sea. They might be strong
swimmers, comfortable in water, and occasionally inherit their mother's striking hair or eye color.
Some of them may even be more likely to seek out sirens themselves when it comes time to find
a mate."
"Just human?" Connie repeated, raising an eyebrow. "So they don't get any special abilities?"
"No," Onyakapon confirmed. "They live as normal humans. The power, the magic of the sirens,
only passes through the daughters. The sons remain human, but they tend to be drawn to water
in ways other men might not be."
"And they could have, what, lavender hair?" Jean asked, half-joking but half-serious.
Yelena nodded. "It's rare, but possible. They might inherit their mother's unusual hair or eye
color, traits that set them apart from other humans. But beyond that, they live their lives as any
other human would."
Hange, ever the researcher, couldn't contain her fascination. "That's incredible. So, the
daughters inherit all the siren traits—powers, longevity, everything. But the sons just… live
human lives? No special abilities, no connection to the siren world?"
"Correct," Onyakapon said. "But the bond between a siren and her human mate is what keeps
the balance. The human man protects the siren while she's in her human form, vulnerable, and
in return, she grants him strength, power, and loyalty beyond anything he's ever known."
Mikasa, who had been standing silently beside Eren, finally spoke again, her tone laced with
frustration. "And what happens if the human man doesn't want that bond? What if he doesn't
want to be 'protected' by some creature from the sea?"
Onyakapon's gaze flicked toward her, his expression serious. "It's rare for a man to reject a
siren once the bond is offered. The connection they feel… it's deep, primal. Most men can't
resist it, even if they don't fully understand it at first."
Eren remained silent, his eyes fixed on the horizon, still processing everything he had heard.
The weight of the siren's gaze from earlier hadn't left him, and now, knowing that she had been
watching him for weeks, the feeling was even heavier.
Mikasa's frustration continued to simmer just below the surface, but she bit her tongue, her eyes
still locked on Eren. She couldn't believe he was seriously considering this, that he was even
entertaining the idea of bonding with this creature—this siren. But as she stood there, helpless
to change his mind, she could feel the distance between them growing.
Onyakapon shifted his stance again, his gaze sweeping across the group. "What's happening
here, with Eren… it's part of a much larger story. Sirens have existed for as long as humanity
has, hidden beneath the waves, choosing their mates carefully. They only reveal themselves
when the time is right."
"And you think the time is right now?" Armin asked, his tone thoughtful but cautious.
"Yes," Onyakapon replied. "The fact that she's shown herself to Eren means she believes he's
the one she's been searching for. She wouldn't have revealed herself if she didn't think he was
worthy."
Mikasa's fists clenched tighter at her sides, the words striking her like a physical blow. She
couldn't stand the idea that this creature saw something in Eren, something she couldn't reach.
It wasn't just about the bond—it was about losing him to something she couldn't fight.
Jean, who had been quiet for a while, finally spoke up, his usual sarcasm replaced by genuine
curiosity. "So, if there's one siren watching Eren, and she's got a whole pod out there… does
that mean the rest of us should be worried about being picked too?"
Onyakapon smiled slightly, but there was a seriousness behind his words. "It's possible. As I
said before, sirens travel in pods for safety, especially when they're being hunted. If one siren is
watching Eren, there could be others nearby, watching the rest of you."
Connie let out a low groan. "So, what? We're all gonna get stalked by these siren women now?"
Yelena's smile widened just a little. "Only if they find you worthy."
Levi sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. "Great. As if Titans weren't enough, now
we've got seductive sea women to worry about."
Hange's eyes lit up again at the mention of more sirens. "Oh, I *really* hope there's more. I need
to meet one. Or better yet, study one."
Levi shot her a sideways glance. "You're not turning this into one of your experiments, Hange."
"I wouldn't hurt them!" Hange protested, though her tone was more eager than reassuring. "I just
need to know more. There's so much we don't understand yet. If sirens have existed this long
without us knowing, imagine what else is out there!"
Eren remained quiet, still staring out at the ocean, his mind racing with everything he had
learned. He could feel the pull of the unknown, the strange connection that the siren had
sparked inside him. And as the sea lapped against the shore, he knew that whatever was
coming next, it would change everything.
…
The next morning was thick with tension. The sky was painted with soft hues of pink and orange
as the sun began to rise over the horizon, casting a pale light across the beach. The ocean,
calm and still, reflected the dawn like a mirror, as if holding its breath, waiting.
Mikasa had barely slept. Her mind raced with the events of the previous day—the appearance
of the siren, the strange connection between her and Eren, and the chilling realization that there
might be more of them lurking beneath the waves. She couldn't shake the feeling of dread that
had settled deep in her chest. And now, she stood at the entrance of Eren's tent, her heart
pounding as she tried to gather her thoughts.
Eren was already awake, of course. He always seemed to be awake these days, staring off into
the distance, lost in his own world. When Mikasa stepped inside, she found him sitting on the
edge of his cot, his gaze fixed out toward the sea, his expression as cold and unreadable as
ever.
"Eren," Mikasa started, her voice tight with worry. "We need to leave. We can't stay here."
He didn't respond, didn't even look at her. His silence only fueled the growing panic inside her.
She moved closer, her steps quick and deliberate, her frustration mounting with every second
he refused to acknowledge her.
"Eren, listen to me," Mikasa said, her tone more desperate now. "We need to get away from this
place. That creature—she's dangerous. You don't know what she wants, what she's capable of."
Still, he didn't respond, his gaze locked on the horizon, the calm sea reflecting in his eyes. It
was as though he wasn't even present, as though something far away had taken hold of him
and he was already slipping out of her grasp.
Mikasa knelt in front of him, forcing him to look at her. "Eren, please," she whispered, her voice
softening, the raw emotion breaking through. "You can't stay here. We don't know what these
sirens are, what they'll do. I don't want to lose you to something we don't understand."
For a moment, Eren's eyes flickered, a brief flash of something deep within—doubt,
hesitation—but it was gone as quickly as it came. He didn't push her away, but he didn't answer
either. His silence was suffocating.
Before Mikasa could say more, a strange ripple passed through the water outside the tent,
catching her attention. The sound was almost imperceptible at first, just a gentle disturbance in
the calm of the ocean. But then it grew louder, the waves parting slightly as something—or
someone—began to rise from the depths.
Mikasa's heart skipped a beat. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she turned to face the beach.
There, standing waist-deep in the water, was the siren.
the siren.
Her full face was now exposed, rising slowly above the surface of the sea like a ghost from the
deep. Her skin was dark, a rich brown that gleamed in the early morning light, unlike anything
any of the scouts had ever seen, save for Onyakapon. Her features were striking, almost
unnaturally beautiful, her eyes wide and bright blue, glowing with a faint, ethereal light that
seemed to pierce straight through Eren. Her white, coily hair framed her face in soft, shimmering
tendrils, cascading down her shoulders like sea foam.
The air seemed to still as the scouts outside the tent noticed her. Jean, Connie, Sasha, and the
others froze, their hands instinctively moving toward their weapons, though none of them drew
them. They were transfixed by the sight of her, unable to tear their eyes away.
Mikasa, too, was frozen in place, her breath catching in her throat. This was the creature that
had been watching Eren for weeks, the one they had only glimpsed the day before. Now, she
was fully revealed, and there was no denying her presence—no denying the pull she had on
Eren.
The siren—the siren—didn't move. She simply stood there in the water, her gaze fixed on Eren,
her expression calm but intense. She didn't speak, didn't make a sound. But the way she looked
at him, the quiet certainty in her eyes, said more than words ever could.
Eren stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, as if drawn to her by an invisible force. He
stepped out of the tent and onto the beach, his eyes never leaving hers. There was something
unspoken between them, something ancient and powerful, as though they were the only two
people in the world.
Mikasa's heart raced as she scrambled to her feet, following him outside. "Eren, don't!" she
called out, her voice filled with fear and desperation. "She's—she's dangerous! You don't know
what she'll do!"
But Eren didn't stop. He walked closer to the water, closer to the siren, who still stood silently,
waiting for him. The other scouts stood frozen, watching in a mixture of awe and apprehension.
No one moved, no one spoke.
The siren's beauty was impossible to ignore. Her skin, so unfamiliar to the scouts, seemed to
shimmer under the rising sun, her deep brown tone standing in stark contrast to the pale sands
of the beach. Her eyes, impossibly bright, never wavered from Eren, and her white hair, glowing
like the moon, made her seem more like a creature of legend than reality.
Onyakapon, who had joined the others outside, watched carefully. "It's her," he muttered quietly
to Yelena, who nodded in silent confirmation.
"She's chosen him," Yelena replied softly, her voice carrying an odd reverence. "There's no
turning back now."
Mikasa clenched her fists, her stomach twisting with a mixture of anger and helplessness. "Eren,
please!" she shouted, taking a step forward. "You can't trust her!"
But her words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Eren stood at the edge of the water now, staring at
the siren as if nothing else in the world mattered. The siren didn't move, but there was
something in her expression—something soft, tender, yet commanding—that held him there.
"She won't harm him," Onyakapon said, stepping forward to stand beside Mikasa. "Not unless
she feels threatened."
Mikasa shot him a sharp look, her voice laced with frustration. "How do you know that? How can
you be sure?"
Onyakapon didn't flinch. "Because it's in her nature. Sirens don't harm the ones they choose.
She's here for him, Mikasa. She's been watching him for weeks, waiting for the right moment."
Mikasa felt her chest tighten. "This is insane. She's… she's not human. How can any of this be
real?"
"It's real," Yelena said, her voice calm but unyielding. "And it's happening now."
Eren stood there, silent, staring into the siren's eyes as if the world around him had fallen away.
He didn't move, didn't speak. But there was no doubt—he was captivated, drawn into the depths
of whatever bond was forming between him and the siren.
Mikasa's breath hitched as she watched him, her mind racing. She couldn't lose him. Not like
this. Not to someone—or something—she couldn't even understand.
But deep down, she knew she might already have.
The silence stretched on as the siren stood in the water, her eyes never leaving Eren's. The
morning light bathed the beach in a soft, golden glow, but the air was thick with tension, as if the
ocean itself was holding its breath, waiting for what would happen next.
And so was everyone else.