Hello, I love honey! (The food) also I updated again, enjoy!
I am too tired to think of something to say, as I just landed from the airport but I hope you enjoy this chapter and as awlays, see you again soon!
Day 19
Only one path existed for a warrior– a grim one.
They kill, and they die. It was just how things are supposed to be, it was unfair to these people, you could even say cruel, sure, but it was what they had to do. These were just the circumstances they were all born into, and this was just the mission they had to complete, nothing more to it. Even then, he couldn't help but wonder what made him turn this way, what made him question such a simple reality.
Reiner sought refuge as the explosion's shockwave roared through, casting up a tumultuous veil of dust, smoke, and debris. The aftermath was shrouded in a deafening silence, soon to be pierced by the anguished cries of those who fell victim to the attack. Shielding his face from the billowing dust cloud, Reiner emerged from his cover, only to be halted abruptly by an unsettling sensation underfoot.
His foot encountered something both firm and yielding, and as he applied more pressure, it yielded into something warm and squishy. Reiner peered downward, exhaled shakily, and gingerly stepped over it to run to the other side. Leaning against a wall, he struggled to contain the nausea threatening to overcome him, his senses assaulted by frantic shouts amidst the chaos.
"No, NO! NO! DON'T KILL ME! HELP! HELP ME! DAZ! HELP!" Samuel's desperate cries echoed as a seven-meter Titan ensnared him.
"NO NO NO NOAHGHHGHkh-" By the time Reiner turned around, Samuel was already being devoured, his upper body descending slowly from the Titan's maw, smearing it's chin in a gruesome trail before hitting the ground with a wet thud.
Reiner stood frozen, mouth agape, his horrified gaze fixed upon the lifeless cadet. He watched as time seemed to grind to a halt, his body trembling with horror. "S-Samuel... Why is he... Why are we... under attack?" He muttered to himself, his back sliding down the wall as he fell into a trance.
"We're surrounded on multiple fronts. Fall back to the castle entrance!" Floch howled at them.
Reiner snapped out of his stupor, his attention snapping to the retreating group, suddenly remembering his objective. He scrambled to his feet and raced toward Eren's cell, only to stumble as Daz and Eren emerged from the cell door up ahead, already joining the others. Reiner halted, his frustration welling up as he watched his chance slip through his grasp, he watched him disappear inside.
He grit in frustration before he pivoted to head in a different direction.
"Reiner."
If only he hadn't cared that day. Perhaps, things could have taken a different course.
"Hey, idiot, are you even paying attention?"
These people were not his friends; they were his enemies, island devils. He shouldn't hesitate against the enemy, that meant death.
"Hey!"
Yes, devils.
"Ahh." Reiner winced, instinctively reaching for his aching shoulder as he turned to face Ymir and Annie, both of them far from pleased.
"You've got some nerve to space out like this," Annie glared at him.
"Sorry, what happened?"
Ymir pointed discreetly at a nearby tavern from their concealement. In the distance, he glimpsed the retreating figures of Marco and Jean. "They already left?" He muttered, "...In any case, we weren't the ones they're after, so it should be fine as long as we don't go back there again."
Ymir's lips thinned, eyes sharpening. "So it seems. Now then, since we're not compromised what's your plan?"
Reiner glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "We have a safehouse to the east, near the slums. We'll continue our discussion there."
The trio navigated the alleyways back to a safer location, Reiner couldn't help but think of Bertholdt, his whereabouts, and his condition.
If he was still alive.
He couldn't bear to lose another person due to his own failings.
He no longer wanted to be a soldier, even if he was the one who chose this path.
Day 13, minutes after learning the truth from Floch.
Historia's head felt like it was on the brink of exploding, and the night seemed to drag on forever. She had never anticipated being bombarded with such earth-shattering revelations in a single night, but then again, it was par for the course when dealing with someone like Floch Forster. Trouble always appeared to arrive in waves whenever he was around. Now, she understood it all, the Titans, the walls, Ymir, and the rest. Or, at least, she believed she did. A part of her couldn't help but wonder how everything had come to this point, but that was one of those questions even Floch couldn't answer.
"Krista, are you alright? I understand this is a lot to take it. Hell, I had quite a reaction when I first learned about it, so I get it," Eren said, his voice filled with concern as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"'Quite a reaction' is putting it mildly," Floch grumbled from the other side, glaring at Eren, who grinned back at him sheepishly.
"Historia."
Eren's head snapped back in her direction, his brow arching curiously. "Huh?"
Historia looked up at him with a resolute expression. "My real name. It's Historia. Krista was merely a false identity they assigned me, a phony name for a fictitious girl."
Eren's lips parted slightly in surprise, taking a few moments to absorb the information before chuckling. "What's so amusing about that?" she frowned.
"Sorry, I guess I've overlooked it, but it did seem out of character to hear you curse like that earlier. Even now, you look nothing like you did before. I think I prefer this version of you. The old you was just too artificial, it gave me the creeps. Seriously, no one is that optimistic."
Her brow furrowed, and she glanced downward. "Get in line; you're not the first to say that." She then shifted her gaze to Floch with narrowed eyes. "And neither was he."
Eren managed a small, melancholic smile. "So, Historia it is."
Floch looekd on with an air of surprise. "I didn't expect you to reveal your real name so soon."
"You left me with no choice, remember? You said it was my burden to bear, but you lied about that." Historia retorted.
Floch appeared amused by her remark. "I didn't lie. I said it would be your choice to reveal yourself. But we never mentioned a thing about your shit stain of a father nor him being the true ruler of the walls or you being his oblivious bastard daughter." He raised his palms and shrugged, closing his eyes with a smug expression. "And did you enjoy it? You certainly revealed your true nature, though you had a really funny way of going about it." His contented demeanor shifted into a cold, irritated look.
"Hey, she's already apologized. Let's not dwell on it!" Eren interjected.
He shot the green-eyed boy a sharp look. "Stay out of this, or do you need to be reminded?" Eren frowned and bit his lips, but backed off regardless.
She suddenly turned angry at that. "So you're saying I did this to myself? That you had no part in it?!"
"Not at all, I won't deny the active role I had in getting things to where they currently are. Everything I've done was with your own good in mind, that isn't to say that I'd hate for you to think and act for yourselves, but if it comes down to life or death situations such as this one, I will not let good opportunities slip by."
"Is that why you and Ymir conspired to help me reach the top ten?" Historia asked, his eyes briefly betraying a sense of surprise at the revelation. "Sasha mentioned overhearing your conversation with her about it. So that's the truth, isn't it? I didn't even earn my way into the Military Police; you two orchestrated it all."
Floch rubbed the bridge of his nose, clearly vexed. "Sasha is a bit too nosy for her own good," he grumbled before nodding in confirmation. "When I first learned about Ymir's status as a titan, I had captured her and forced her to explain everything, at that point she only suspected you were who she was looking for but didn't have confirmation yet. Everything from that point up until a week ago was her idea. She was quite insistent, and since I was already aware of what's going on, she made me help ensure your safety." Historia's fists clenched on her lap at this revelation, her expression tightening.
"That was your agreement, her help in exchange for yours." She said impassively as he nodded.
"She felt guilty for lying to you about me, but it wasn't like she had a choice." He added. "But so much for that, just look where you are now! I mean, was it even your plan to reach the top ten to begin with?"
Historia didn't answer, instead she looked away.
A troubled expression crossed Eren's face as he looked at Historia. "So, you really didn't know anything after all? Not even your father?"
She shook her head, mentally exhausted from repeating the same answer. "No, I was too young to know anything, and even then I'd always be kept in the dark. I didn't even know I was an heir to the throne until the commander asked me to fill the seat."
Eren's face contorted with discomfort as he silently chastised himself. "I see... I'm sorry then." Historia looked up at him, a mixture of confusion and awe in her eyes. "I jumped to conclusions, got angry with you for no reason... All this time, I thought you knew and were keeping secrets from us. Like Reiner and Annie did."
"You don't need to apologize. I'm no saint either," she muttered.
"So what's with the change of heart? I figured you'd have kept being Krista until Ymir's found." Floch spoke up.
Historia averted her gaze to the floor. "But there's no guarantee that's going to happen, is there? How much time does she even left?" She muttered, and Eren was suddenly reminded of his own predicament.
"Plenty of time, trust me, and I wouldn't say that," Floch shook his head, and both of them fixed their expectant gazes on him. "Before she left that night, she told me we'd meet again, and that she'd watch from a distance." Their eyes widened in response. "She also mentioned that she'd kill me if anything happened to you. Isn't that cute?"
"Then... There's still a chance to fix things." she mumbled.
He nodded. "Yes, but even then It's not like the regiment will throw her a welcoming party, and let's not mention the interior's reaction to it. Commander Erwin did his best to keep her involvement under wraps, but there's only so much he could do before the truth eventually leaks out. Thing is, Ymir and the other two are the least of our worries right now." Floch scoffed, releasing a brief, bitter chuckle. "Even I am not safe. Someone is hunting me down, and it won't be long before they uncover my involvement and kill me."
Both were alarmed by this, Eren stood up with urgency. "What? Why?! Was it because of the day you broke me out of custody?!"
Floch gazed up at them with a stoic expression. "Please, sit down. And no, this began much earlier," Eren looked like he wanted to argue but eventually gave in, taking his place next to Historia. "Whoever is after me has been pursuing me since before Trost. I sent a letter to Commander Erwin a few days before the attack, but it never reached its destination. Because of that, Bertholdt was able to transform and breach the walls."
The two in front of him were visibly shocked by this revelation, but Historia quickly regained her composure, her brow furrowing. "You knew about them in advance?"
Eren also caught on, his brows knitting in confusion. "What?"
Floch offered a small, somewhat guilty smile, the kind someone would give when caught red-handed. "I did, and I couldn't do much about it. It's something that will haunt me for the rest of my life." He sighed and allowed himself to recline onto the bed he was sitting on. "I sent the letter a week in advance, intending to meet the commander and plan an ambush to deal with those three simultaneously. It would have saved us a lot of trouble. The problem is, it never happened, and all other attempts at contacting them failed."
His expression darkened. "Then, Hannah informed me that they weren't coming. The Military Police had canceled their permission for an upcoming expedition. That's when things started to unravel. I tried to buy time and even attempted to kill Bertholdt but under such a short notice I couldn't get my hands on things like poison, and stabbing them to death was out of the question, so it didn't work out. Before I knew it, they created a diversion and incapacitated me. "
Historia quickly pieced together the details. "The fire at HQ that day, it was caused by them..."
Eren's fists clenched in anger. "And the explosion that followed was their doing too." Floch nodded in confirmation, before Eren realized something else. "Those MP bastards were also responsible! They knew about it and tried to cover it up!"
"Which is precisely why I came forth with the information about Historia, this isn't normal. So unless we make our move first, they'll take us by surprise and ruin everything. Historia, Eren, I very much believe that you're both going to be in grave danger unless we take the necessary steps to ensure these people are taken care of." Floch supplied.
Both of them frowned at this, as Eren spoke up. "But wait, that still doesn't explain how you knew about Reiner and the other two!"
Floch suddenly burst into a chuckle, creeping out the both of them. "Man, I am just so tired of hearing that." He sat back up, wearing an unsettling smile. "Tell me, what's your favorite fairy tale?"
"What kind of question is that?" Eren frowned.
"Just indulge me for a moment. Go on," Floch waved him off with a smile.
Historia thought for a moment. "As a child, I read a book that inspired me to become Krista. In it, a kind and forgiving girl makes a pact with the devil to free everyone she loves."
Eren struggled to make sense of it all. "What is this even about?"
Floch's demeanor shifted abruptly, his once sober expression now taking on a somber tone. "What if I were to tell you both that I've come from the future?"
Eren and Historia lapsed into an extended silence that stretched beyond Floch's comfort. His gaze darted between the two as they continued to fix him with blank, impassive expressions. Irritation began to bubble within him as their unresponsiveness wore on, until, in an unexpected twist, they turned their attention to each other, their synchronized nods sent a jolt of frustration through Floch.
"What kind of reaction is that?! Seriously? I just told you I've traveled through time from the future! That's... that's monumental! Aren't you at least a bit shocked or something?" Floch chastised, his impatience evident.
"Well..." Eren began, scratching the back of his head thoughtfully, "That makes a lot of sense, so there's no reason not to believe you."
"Seriously?! That's it? It was that easy? You both punched me for far less! And you!" Floch directed his incredulous gaze at Historia, who remained unfazed. "Aren't you going to question me about things only someone from the future could know?"
"Why bother?" She replied with a shrug. "Thinking back on it, it does seem more obvious now. It explains how you knew about Ymir, and the other three, how you seemingly knew details about my past and also why you took an interest to Eren. But to realize that travelling through time is real and not just a fantasy people dream about... I suppose that's astonishing."
"Astonishing..." He echoed, staring dumbfoundedly.
"All this time, I assumed you were sent to spy on me, I even doubled down on my Krista persona because of it, Ymir wasn't helping things either." Historia added as she made a face, before sighing. "I was so terrified that night in the kitchen, I didn't even want to turn my back to you so I just helped you wash the dishes to get on your good side and forced myself to smile through it all."
Floch felt offended as he glanced at the empty space in between them with a hint of disappointment, before biting his lower lip in frustration. His fists balled as his knuckles turned white, body shaking in anger, scrunching his eyes with heavy breaths. "You two are just..." Floch muttered, baffled by their nonchalant reactions before he began muttering to himself, chuckling in between like a mad man. "Heh, not like I imagined... Again, not like I imagined it at all, you're ruining it all... heh.. haha.."
"Floch?" Eren inquired, a hint of concern in his voice, while Historia watched with a perplexed expression.
Floch tilted his head up slightly, meeting their gazes from beneath his bangs. "I suppose you both want to hear what happened."
Eren and Historia leaned in with palpable intrigue as Floch began recounting the events of his original life. He delved into the breach in Trost, the revelation about Annie, and the discovery of Ymir, Reiner, and Bertholdt. How the secret king had almost wiped out the survey corps, and how they took back power from them and rose to popularity with Historia as the new acting Queen. His narrative took a detached tone, as if he were narrating the past from a spectator's perspective. However, his demeanor shifted when he reached the operation to retake Maria.
"I signed up with Gordon and Sandra, thinking humanity was finally on the winning side," Floch continued. "I got swept up in the euphoria, and I never stopped to consider that I was just another person. I felt... almost invincible, foolishly so, but that changed on that day. We found ourselves ambushed just outside Shiganshina, with Eren and his team fighting on the other side of the wall. We had no choice but to go on a suicide charge to give Captain Levi a chance to take one of them down. So that's what we did. We followed Commander Erwin to hell that day, and before I knew it..."
Floch paused for a moment, his eyes shadowed by his bangs.
"It was lights out, and here I was, three years in the past. Back among you all in boot camp, as if it were all a dream."
Eren and Historia stared in shock, their silence stretching for a couple of minutes as they processed this revelation. Eren's head hung low, his face contorted with anger. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? Things could have been so different. To think that Trost was attacked twice now..." His fists tightened on his thighs.
Floch scoffed in response. "You think I didn't consider that? 'Hey, Eren, I'm from the future. Here's how to transform into a Titan. Now go kill those three!' It wasn't that simple, my friend. There were a multitude of factors to take into account. How would you react knowing your mother's killers slept right next to you? Would you have the patience to not attack them then and there? Would you believe me? Let's say you did, and we went somewhere for you to transform for the first time. How would I deal with a rampaging Titan? What if you accidentally killed me? What if you ran wild, and those three found out? What if the government got wind of it? How would everyone at boot camp react?"
Floch shook his head firmly. "No, it wasn't that easy. I had to take a risk by keeping you in the dark because the alternative could have put us all in grave danger if things had gone awry." His eyes narrowed, teeth clenching. "Furthermore, things were already so much different compared to my first time around. I didn't want to suddenly render all the knowledge I possessed useless. I wanted to keep things as close as possible to my original life but that's gone out the window by now, my presence alone made sure of that fact."
"So, that's pretty much it. I was just a coward who joined the Scouts seeking glory when things seemed simple until I got a severe reality check. Now, I weasel my way around everyone because I hold an unfair advantage over them, I just didn't foresee everything going downhill the way it did, ironically." Floch's gaze drifted upward, fixating on the ceiling as he continued. "Being fearless and cunning when it matters most is relatively easy when you've already faced death once."
Eren furrowed his brows, deep in thought, recalling the conversation they had earlier in the evening.
Historia sighed and quipped, "Wow."
"Yeah," Floch echoed. "Wow."
"What does... dying feel like?" She asked hesitantly.
"Slow, painful, regretable, cold and uncertain. It doesn't make sense, it's peaceful but tormenting. It felt like an eternity in there, but at the same time, when I opened my eyes back to this world, it's like I woke up from a quick dream."
"I see..." She bit the inside of her lip as her eyes scrunched with a hint of discomfort. It didn't escape him that she was looking at him with a hint of pity. "Well, at least you're honest, that's one good thing about you." she remarked. "You could have easily lied and spun a more favorable story so I find that admirable."
Floch returned her gaze, a tinge of bitterness in his voice. "Honesty is about the only thing I have left... for the most part."
"No," Eren declared as he rose to his feet. He moved forward, casting a towering presence over Floch, and extended his hand toward him. "We're here too."
Floch's eyes widened in surprise, his mouth agape, as he directed his gaze to the offered hand. His lips thinned, and after a sigh, he closed his eyes and broke into a heartfelt smile. The two of them shook hands firmly, with Floch also standing up.
Eren scoffed. "Tsk, unfair advantage? Don't make me laugh, you're dealing with people who can turn into giant cannibals on a whim. It doesn't matter who you used to be, It's about who you are now." He declared resolutely. "What really matters is that you're willing to move forward. And if I remember correctly, there's a few idiots in charge who need to be put in their place, you held me to that promise remember?"
"I did." Floch muttered.
Eren's grin took on a challenging edge. "So, which one is it? Are you gonna meander again, or are you going to seize control?"
"Eren..." Floch trailed in awe but the moment was interrupted when both of them realized another hand had joined theirs. They turned to see Historia standing beside them.
"I guess It's my turn to be honest," she began, her expression earnest. "I still hate you, and it's quite a task to find anything redeemable about you. But regardless of that, you have my support too." She furrowed her brows and glanced to the side. "However, I'm saying this out of pure selfishness. I still don't want to be Queen, I don't think I'm ready even after hearing everything you've told us. What I truly desire is to find Ymir. I don't want to hide any longer. I want my revenge."
"All three of us are selfish in our own way are we not?" She added with a sincere smile.
"You two..."
His look of astonishment faded as it suddenly morphed into a grin.
"Yeah, we're the worst kind of people imaginable."
"Let's Knock Off The Questions, People. There Are Some Things A Guy Doesn't Wanna Remember." Marco Bott, 847 AD, during first night of bootcamp after Eren's Yeager's account of Wall Maria's collapse.
Day 19, a few hours later.
"We've arrived, sir!"
The horse-drawn carriage came to a halt, and Jean and Marco disembarked. Jean's gaze swept over the area, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, while Marco headed to the front to talk to the driver. Jean couldn't help but feel annoyed by the extent they were going to unravel this mystery. As far as he was concerned, they had already repaid Hitch's favor in full. This additional work was nothing but an inconvenience. He stole a sidelong glance at Marco and sighed quietly; he knew Marco would have a different perspective on the matter.
Marco returned to Jean, breaking his thoughts. "The driver's a bit on edge, but I gave him extra compensation for now."
Jean grumbled under his breath. "I can see why, we're in such a lovely place, aren't we?"
Walking through the desolate streets, Jean wasn't surprised to find that no one wanted to linger outdoors in this area. He observed women hastily closing their windows with blinds and unconscious junkies tucked away in corners. There were no children in sight, but plenty of thugs, including the ones they were now passing, engaged in a street brawl while onlookers bet money on the fighters.
All eyes turned to them as they walked by, and Marco tensed at the attention. To his surprise, Jean remained unfazed.
One of the fighters called out, "Hey, assholes! What the hell are you doing here?"
"Do you happen to know a guy named Kemper Boltz? We're looking for him," Jean asked nonchalantly.
"Huh?" The man looked utterly bewildered, as if this were the most perplexing question he had ever heard. After a few moments, he and the others burst into laughter.
"What you're doing here is against the law, you know? Betting on illegal street fights can get you hefty fines and long prison sentences," Jean added, showing no emotion. "Jean... I don't think this is a good idea. There are too many of them," Marco whispered anxiously in his ear.
"You should probably listen to your boyfriend," one of the men taunted. "But it's too late for that now. You think you can just stroll in here unchecked?"
Marco tensed and prepared himself for a confrontation, but Jean surprised everyone by pulling out a double-barrel flintlock pistol. All the men froze, becoming as motionless as statues. "You know, you're right," Jean declared calmly. "Our kind doesn't usually roam these streets, so I won't have to worry about anyone coming to claim your bodies. Less paperwork for me, after all."
The man who had confronted them suddenly looked visibly concerned. Jean gave a sly smile. "What do you all say? Should I end your lives over a petty street dispute, or will you give us an address, and we can all forget this ever happened?"
The two MPs reached their destination, standing before Kemper's supposed address. Marco felt his nerves settling after the tense confrontation earlier, but he maintained his guard. Impressed by Jean's handling of the situation, he couldn't help but compliment him. "That was really cool, what you did back there," Marco said with admiration.
Jean chuckled softly, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Yeah, I guess I learned a thing or two from Floch. But after that brawl in the tavern, I realized it'd be foolish not to carry protection."
Marco winced at the mention of the tavern incident. "Hehehe..."
Jean noticed Marco's discomfort and reassured him, "Don't worry about it, Marco. You're the brains, and I'm the brawn, remember?"
The two officers halted in front of Kemper's room on the third floor, labeled Two-Two-Five. They exchanged nods before Marco announced their presence with a firm knock on the door. "Mr. Boltz, are you home? We're with the Stohess Military Police, and we're here to ask you a few questions."
Marco knocked again, but there was no response. Jean's impatience grew, and he reached for the door handle, only to gasp in surprise as he discovered the door was unlocked. Alarmed by this, they decided to enter and investigate. "Mr. Boltz, are you inside?" Marco inquired.
As they advanced through the corridor, they eventually reached the man's bedroom. Marco immediately noticed the drinks on the table and the cigarettes in the ashtray. Additionally, the window was wide open, allowing the breeze to billow the curtains. Jean voiced his concern as he examined the window. "Hey, you don't think he...?"
"Search the place," Marco instructed as he went to examine the window.
Jean, meanwhile, inspected the man's closet and found several suspicious-looking boxes. He placed one on the table and opened it, revealing small packages of pills that looked familiar. "Coderoin." he declared, and Marco joined him to examine the discovery. "Do you think he's the one producing these? There are still a few boxes left in the closet."
"Unlikely. He's probably just a distributor. Also, there's no way he could have escaped through the window," Marco reasoned.
Suddenly, Jean tensed, his eyes locked onto a spot beneath the bed beside them. He whispered his concern to Marco, and they exchanged anxious glances. "You don't think he's..." Jean began before trailing off.
Marco swallowed hard and crouched down to pull back the bed sheets. What they found left them in shock and horror.
Pale skin, bloodshot eyes, exposed gums, clenched teeth—death loomed in the shadows.
Marco couldn't help but shriek in terror as he recoiled, bumping into the table. The cup on the table teetered on the edge of falling, but Jean reacted swiftly, catching it mid-air. Marco's chest heaved in panic, his gaze fixed on the lifeless body, while Jean stood frozen beside him, equally stunned.
What the hell had they stumbled into, and how deep were they now?
Day? Unknown.
Enduring endless torture in the darkness, Bertholdt found that the only thing more challenging than preserving his sanity was keeping track of time. Cold, naked, and blindfolded, he had no way to distinguish night from day. His ears constantly echoed with the sounds of his tormentors, and his nose was overwhelmed by the stench of his own suffering. Yet, amid this relentless nightmare, he could still detect the faint scent of vinegar and herbs, which the woman who visited him used to rinse her mouth every morning.
Chained diagonally to a rack, Bertholdt suffered as his missing limbs regenerated, only to be cruelly severed again and again. He initially counted sixty minutes between these gruesome cycles, but as his strength waned, so did his regenerative abilities. Eventually, it took two hours to regrow what was taken from him in mere moments.
During moments of respite from the agony, he pondered the fate of his severed limbs. Though a morbid thought, speculating about their purpose offered him a tenuous grip on his sanity. Were they buried in the backyard? Fed to some grotesque creature? Perhaps the tormentors intended to consume them themselves. After all, he was well aware of the food shortages that plagued this kingdom; as a cadet, he had endured a diet of stale bread and onion soup, much to Annie's chagrin. He couldn't help but wonder about her and Reiner—were they confined in a similar position?
Bertholdt had long concluded that these were godforsaken individuals, and he believed it fitting that even God would turn away from such monsters.
One hour, fifty-nine minutes, fifty-nine seconds.
"AGGGGHHHHHHHHHH khghaaaeghhh!" Bertholdt screamed into the darkness as another of his limbs was ruthlessly severed. By the time his tormentor had removed the remaining appendages, he had been reduced to a pitiful, whimpering wreck, pleading for the release of death. "P-please... kill me..."
"No," the person responded, their voice devoid of sympathy, before closing the door and leaving him to suffer. His bleeding stopped, and the searing steam cauterized his wounds once more. The butcher's work was done.
"Wow! It took you much quicker to beg for death this time around! You usually cry your eyes out first!" a voice remarked enthusiastically, echoing through the darkness and sending shivers down Bertholdt's spine.
"Please..." He croaked, his voice barely audible amidst the stifling air.
The woman's gentle hand caressed his head, but her response was far from soothing. "I'm sorry, but it's not time yet. I hope you can find some understanding in that." She shattered his hopes with her firm resolve. "However, I can grant your wish if you answer a simple question for me."
"Anything..." He wheezed, his desperation palpable.
"You're unusually cooperative today. I appreciate the initiative," she remarked, her tone shifting from cheerful to stern. "Let's start with an easy one." Her voice carried weight. "Who brought you to our walls, Bertholdt?"
His breaths came in ragged, irregular bursts. His heart raced, and his trembling lips refused to form words. He clung to his feeble deceptions. "Nobody..."
"Bertholdt! I thought we were making progress," she sighed, disappointment tinging her words. "Please proceed, Moblit."
"Right away, section commander."
Proceed with what? Panic gripped Bertholdt as he thrashed helplessly, only to be held in place by a pair of strong arms. The world tilted backward, blood rushing to his head, and then a damp cloth covered his face, further obscuring his vision.
"You know, the advantage of understanding your capabilities is the assurance that this won't affect you in the slightest. I won't accidentally end your life, however tempting that may be." Moblit remarked.
Bertholdt's mind raced with questions. What did he mean? What were they planning? Before he could react, a stream of water assaulted his face, and breathing became impossible. The liquid invaded his mouth and nose, a burning sensation searing his nostrils. His gag reflex kicked in, his lungs screamed in agony, and panic consumed him as he teetered on the brink of drowning.
The rag was abruptly removed, granting him a brief respite.
"Once more, Bertholdt, where did you come from?" She inquired calmly.
"Kill... me..." Bertholdt gasped desperately.
"That's not a location. Moblit, he seems rather parched; more water, please," she requested.
Ten minutes and thirty-three seconds.
