~ Chapter 7: Mistakes ~
"Harry Potter has been unconscious for roughly two weeks, and he is just now showing signs of recovery. This morning, he woke up for roughly ten minutes in a daze, appearing to hallucinate as he recited three names over and over. Hermione, Ginny, and Ron were the names. But when we sent a letter to his parents questioning the existence of these 'friends', they explained that he had never had many friends before joining the Warriors unit, and he'd never been so close with any of his friends to the point that he would recite their names in a hallucinatory state. And so we must conclude that Harry Potter is no longer fit for duty, and must be sent home to receive psychiatric help," Zeke Jaeger concluded, reading off of the medical papers offered to him by one of the medical staff.
"It won't happen," said Commander Theo Magath. "That boy is too powerful to be sent home over such silliness. Sure, he's whispering names in his sleep, but he also hit his head several times during the battle and is suffering from a severe concussion. These things take time to heal. Besides, did you see the amount of damage that kid did to that fortress? He was so angry that he pulled water from the ocean just to drown it all away. Not the river just a mile away, but the ocean two hundred miles from here. The kid could be more powerful than the Founding Titan itself if that's the kind of destructive power he can reach,"
Commander Lean Kien spoke, clearly disgusted by Magath's words. "This isn't about the boy's powers or even his standing in the military. This is about his health. He won't be useful to us if he's a living vegetable. We should send him home and postpone the operation. We've been waiting this long anyway, we can afford to push it back a few more years. Or at least until he recovers,"
"We can't afford to push the operation back further," countered General Bonzen. "We've pushed it back several times in the past ten years, and the consequences of that are showing. The Middle-Eastern Alliance has created anti-titan artillery strong enough to rip through a hundred titans, as well as the Armored Titan's armor. If it wasn't for Potter's magic, the Warrior unit would have been turned to dust within that fortress. He's the most valuable asset we have, and with the Founding Titan's power, he'll be able to win Marley the entire world. And as for his physical and mental health, he's a strong kid. Stronger than most men I know. He'll push through the pain no matter the cost,"
"There are several problems with your view on Mr. Potter," said Zeke. "Firstly, his left knee was crippled by pellet fire, and the nerves around it were ripped to shreds when he ripped the pellets out. He won't be able to walk without a cane or a crutch for the rest of his life. As for his mental health, he doesn't seem to be improving. But there's another problem," Zeke sighed, pulling off his glasses as he began to wipe them with his sleeve. "Braun and the youngest Galliard have come to me with concerns regarding Potter's allegiance to Marley,"
"Do not question his allegiances, Zeke. I used to speak with the boy every day for a year and he had nothing but praise for Marley and its cause," said General Bonzen.
Zeke sighed, placing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "That was three years ago, General. Many things can change in that time. Braun and Galliard both reported the details of a conversation the youngest Warriors had had just hours before the battle. In this discussion, Potter displayed some kind of disdain for the government and military and expressed how he wishes that his young sister would remain outside of the military. This leads me to question if Potter is truly loyal to Marley, or if he is just using his status as a way to propel him through the ranks,"
"And if he does climb the ranks?"
"Perhaps he'll try to launch a coup. He's already famous enough that most men in the army would possibly drop their loyalty and join him immediately. Or perhaps he'll perform some kind of mind control. I'm uncertain about the scope of his abilities," Zeke explained. "But the point stands. Potter is conflicted about his loyalties, and thus cannot be trusted in his position,"
"Let's not be too hasty, War Chief. Let us wait until the boy wakes up before we decide what to do with him. We owe him that much," said the General. And so it was decided. Harry Potter's fate would be decided after he woke up. The four moved on to the next subject, ignoring the thought of Harry Potter for now. They would get back to that eventually.
He shoved his sword through Khan's chest, watching as the conqueror's life faded. He took great pride in cutting the string connecting his soul to his body. And yet it did nothing to satiate his hunger. His desire for more. Perhaps he would take control of Khan's empire. Perhaps he could find more souls to reap. After all, he had a quota to reach.
February 26th, 845
His eyes opened immediately as the memory of Genghis Khan faded from view. The pain in his arm was gone, but his leg. He couldn't feel the bottom half of his left leg. He peered down at it and his eyes widened. His knee was completely covered in bandages. But he couldn't move it. The bottom half of his left leg wasn't there. Harry moved his right leg, and there was no pain at all. But when he tried to move his left leg, nothing happened. No movement. No feeling. No pain. His leg was gone. Amputated.
"Mr. Potter!" Harry's eyes shot up to his right. A nurse was standing by the door, her eyes wide in shock. "Sir, please don't move. You've been badly injured. Your knee was shattered and you're suffering from severe nerve damage. After you were infected, the doctor had to amputate your leg, so you're still suffering from the procedure. Please don't try to stand. You'll only fall,"
"What...what...does that mean? The nerve damage,"
"It means you'll be in pain for a long time,"
Harry was silent. He stared at her for several moments. And then he fell back onto the bed, his eyes resting on the ceiling. Tears built up as the images and voices returned. He shut his eyes, wishing they would stop. He heard the nurse leave the room, no doubt grabbing someone. Harry took his few moments of quiet to clean himself up. He wiped at his eyes, drying them with his sleeve as he pushed himself up into a seated position on the bed. He rested his back and head against the wall. At that moment, the nurse re-entered the room, accompanied this time by Zeke Jaeger, General Bonzen, and Commander Magath.
Jaeger stepped forward. "Potter, are you feeling any better?"
"I feel...fine? My leg is gone,"
"I explained the situation," the nurse spoke, clearly distressed by what Harry had said. She was an Eldian. If the Marleyan's present thought she had left such critical information unsaid, she would be punished. Perhaps her family too.
"She did. I'm just...still processing it all," Harry clarified.
Bonzen knelt beside Harry. "Are you still...seeing things?"
"Sir?"
"You were whispering names in your sleep," Bonzen turned to Zeke. "What were they again?"
"Hermione, Ginny, and Ron," Zeke supplied.
"Right. Them. Do they sound familiar?"
"Hermione...Ginny...Ron...no. No, those names don't sound familiar. I was saying names in my sleep?"
"You were. They were afraid you were going crazy," answered Bonzen.
"They? Not you, sir?"
"The thought never crossed my mind,"
Harry frowned. So much was swarming through his mind that he wanted to lie down, cry, and sleep. But he couldn't do that. He needed to stay strong in front of his commanding officers. Harry swung his leg over the bed, getting ready to stand, but his left leg was gone. He was reminded of this as he tried to drop to his feet. He landed on his right foot, but was forced to catch himself against the bed. The nurse rushed forward, trying to push him back onto the bed so he could rest. "Please. I need to stand," Harry spoke. The nurse sighed, grabbing two nearby wooden crutches before handing them to Harry. She helped him get to his foot, resting her hand on his shoulder as Harry gained his footing.
"I'll need these for the rest of my life..." said Harry, peering down at the crutches and his missing leg. He felt tears come to his eyes, and he couldn't stop them. It was too much too fast. Harry's future was gone. How could he go out into battle with crutches? How could he run his new empire without the use of his leg? His adolescence was gone. No longer could he run around the training course or play with his friends. He would be forced to sit on the sidelines. He would have to watch his friends play. He would have to watch them train. And he would have to watch them go out into battle without him.
His mind raced with the stolen possibilities. The stolen dreams. They were gone, and they would never come back. This was his life now. The life of a cripple. Forced to live in such a state that he couldn't help himself. Anger built up inside of him as he thought of all he had lost. But he bit it down. He forced it so far within himself that everything went numb. And when he could feel nothing at all, Harry turned back to the others. The nurse and the general were watching him with sympathy, Magath appeared fearful, and Zeke looked on in a mix of sympathy and doubt. What was there to doubt? Did Zeke think he was faking a missing leg? Did Zeke think he was faking his emotions?
"The others?"
Zeke replied. "Braun and the youngest Galliard both suffered from minor injuries, but they recovered quickly. The rest were fine. They're all assisting in clean up,"
"Clean up?"
Magath sighed. He motioned for Harry to follow, and the two moved out of the nurse's cabin. Harry wasn't used to the crutches, so his movement was rough and slow. But by the time they'd made it a few dozen yards down the trench, Harry had gotten the hang of it and was able to keep up with the Commander's slow pace. They eventually made it to one of the trenches ramps, moving up to the ground level. There, Harry saw the full carnage he had unleashed.
The entire north side of the landscape had been tarnished by a massive tsunami that had washed in from the ocean. Debris and rubble were spread out everywhere, and he could spot bodies in the distance. But there was something off about it. The devastation had come in widespread from afar, but it had condensed down to a cone near the fortress. Harry had done this. He remembered it now. The rage. The pain. The devastation. The burning. The air. The shrapnel. The cold water reached up to his waist. Harry had flooded the entire fortress with water, washing away bodies, blood, and debris. He had pulled it in from the ocean. "Why the ocean? The river's right there,"
"Wait...you don't remember doing it?" Magath asked.
"I remember pieces of it. I remember the fire. The air. And the shrapnel. Even the water. But I don't remember pulling it in from the ocean,"
"Well, you had quite the episode, kid," said Bonzen. "According to Leonhart and Finger, you created a maelstrom of elements. A ring of fire, a blizzard of earth, a hurricane of wind, and a flood of water. You destroyed everything,"
"Including their titan forms," whispered Harry, remembering. "I remember now. Their titans were destroyed by the rocks and flames. Reiner was unconscious and Marcel..."
"Braun was unconscious due to the physical strain done on his body by the damage to his titan form. And Marcel was hit by a piece of shrapnel, but it was slowed by the titan flesh around him to the point that it did no damage," Zeke explained. "The two of them recovered in days, but they're slower now. They're weaker than before. Their numbers are lower,"
"And it's my fault,"
"Yes,"
"Zeke," Bonzen spoke, his gaze boring into Zeke's head. Harry didn't pay attention to their argument and instead focused his attention on the carnage in front of him. The flooding had been so destructive that Harry doubted it could ever be fixed in any meaningful amount of time. It would take decades to repair all of the damage he had done. Two hundred miles of flooding and destruction, and they had only cleared bodies within ten square miles. Harry stepped forward, moving down the hill towards the city. After some commotion, Zeke and Magath joined him in his walk.
Harry spoke first. "What's the situation with the Hizuru?"
"Only four soldiers survived the battle. Two were killed in a struggle and the other two surrendered and are in custody. The troops that were outside the fortress were either eaten by titans or escaped to the west across the border," Magath explained. "The Middle-Eastern Alliance has strengthened its border and is ready for an attack. They haven't moved to fix the damage you did across their border. I'm assuming this is because they don't want to risk sending soldiers off away from their stations on the border,"
Harry frowned. "They'll strengthen their borders anywhere they think we'll attack. They'll separate their navy to avoid the same fate as the Hizuru's; being destroyed in one shot by the Colossal Titan,"
"They've separated their navy so that no two ships are close to each other. It isn't possible to defeat them all in one go, even without the Colossal Titan," said Zeke.
"We don't need to defeat them in one go. All we need is a precise and devastating number of strikes that they can't calculate. They will be forced to pull in their navy for support if we launch an attack on several key naval ports. Even if they don't call every ship back, we could take out several dozen ships," Harry could sense Magath and Zeke exchange a look from behind him. He smirked. If they thought he would lose his ability to brainstorm tactical advances, they were sorely mistaken.
"And if they chose not to send ships?"
"Then we win their naval ports. We'll be cutting off their inner-alliance trade. And because most of their ports are linked to rivers going inland, we could cut the alliance into thirds, fourths, and sixths. They'll suspect we'll try to take the Glise and Orglos ports, seeing as those two are the closest ports to the west and east borders, respectively. But if we launch four attacks at once, we could draw their attention away from two ports near the center, leaving the alliance's center open to attack. When we invade the center, they won't have a choice but to send the rest of their navy in for a counterattack. Their outer ports will be ours, and we'll be free to push their borders with their supply lines cut,"
"Someone's feeling better," It was Commander Kien. He was standing on the outskirts of the city, his eyes on Harry. He was smiling. "You're still too damn smart for your own good, Harry,"
"Perhaps he is," Zeke mused. Harry couldn't tell if he was winning over Zeke's trust, but he didn't care. Zeke could trust him or not trust him, that was his problem. Harry was too focused on thoughts of the war. "Any other thoughts, Potter?" Harry frowned. He couldn't think of anything else at the moment regarding the war. But as he examined the sight of destruction ahead of him, Harry couldn't help but reach toward it. Closing his eyes, Harry reached out with more than his hand, feeling for the fallen debris. When he found it, Harry felt it. The image. The precursor. How it had been before it was all destroyed.
He yearned for it to return to the way it had been before, and when he opened his eyes Harry was met by a wonderful sight. Stretching over one hundred miles, piles of rubble lifted off its place on the ground, hovering in place for a single moment before reforming into its past shape. Walls. Roofs. Floors. Homes. Streets. Towers. All of it was rebuilt exactly the way it had been before. There were a few instances of holes or deformed structures, no doubt caused by pieces of the rubble being carried back with the ocean weeks before. But this was alleviated by flashes of green that left the holes or deformities repaired.
"You...fixed it," Magath whispered, awestruck by the sight. All of them were. Harry thought, looking on in disappointment. Sure, he was impressed by his power and ability to repair such damage, but he was saddened that he could not repair the rest of it. Half of the damage. Fifty percent of the damage was still there, with torn-down buildings and washed-away debris still piled up on the destroyed roads. He had done a lot there, but there was still so much to do. It would take several days for him to repair the rest at his recovery rate.
"There's still so much more to fix,"
"Yes, but what you did was more than enough for now," said Kein thankfully. "Go get some rest, Harry. The others went back once they heard you were awake. They must have passed you," Harry frowned. How was that possible? But then he remembered. One of the Commanders had been running drill, having his soldiers run in a straight line back up to the trench opposite of Harry and the others. The other Warriors must have gone up the hill on the other side of the commander's unit. Unlucky, but it made sense.
"I'll stay here and help for a bit,"
"Go and see your friends, Harry. We can handle the rest here. That's an order," said Magath. Harry sighed. He didn't want to see them. The embarrassment from before still lurked in his mind. First, he exposed his true feelings about Marley's government, and then he injured his friends. It was too much. He didn't want to see them. But an order was an order. So Harry turned and began his slow walk back to the trench. All the while his eyes burned with worry and fear. Harry wasn't sure what to expect when reuniting with his closest friends.
His presence could be felt throughout the battefield as he maneuvered through the field of bodies. His black cloak blew in the wind while his scythe cut through any opponent that dared approach him. He stepped closer to his enemy, a conqueror from the west that believed he could defeat death itself. He decided to give the conqueror a taste of his own foolishness.
"No. No! NO! PLEASE!" The man shouted in his native language as he fell to his ass in fear, but they all sounded the same to him. He ignored the man's cries and placed his hand on the man's forehead. The man's eyes began to glow green as he sent him to the depths of Tarturus, his screams filling the fields as his soldiers halted. Their hesitance allowed his men to strike them down with ease. Eventually it was only him, his soldiers, and the man that remained. After he was done with the man, he took off his head, letting it roll against the ground before turning back to his followers. Wearing only his own skull with empty eyesockets and no nose, he let his eyes glow red. "Who's next?" The crowd of pirates, mercenaries, and townfolk cheered as he disappeared in a POP!
February 26th, 845
With his crutches and a mind full of worry, Harry Potter made his way back up the hill towards the trench. His friends would no doubt be waiting for him within the Warrior cabin. He kept his eye on his surroundings to make sure they didn't pass him again. Harry's pace was slow and tedious, but the speed he was going proved almost too much. He was already building sweat on his brow, and his right leg felt tight and sore. The labor done on his body during and after the battle had been hideous, reversing months of hard work in training his body to perfection. I'm weak now. I'm crippled. I'm useless.
Harry's stolen dreams echoed through his mind as he stepped down the ramp, moving toward the Warrior's cabin. Those who passed him gave him mixed expressions of awe and pity, something that bothered him very much. He didn't deserve their awe. He didn't want it. And Harry sure as hell didn't want their pity. His situation had been self-inflicted. He was too weak to keep the shield up. He had been too slow to drop to the ground along with Porco and Bertholdt. And he had been too irrational in removing the pellets from his wound himself. If any of these weaknesses hadn't been there, then perhaps his situation would be different. Perhaps his leg would be healed. Perhaps it wouldn't have been shot.
But Harry was quick to chasten himself. His injury had nothing to do with his reaction time or his healing abilities. It had been the person who shot him's fault. Harry was the victim in this scenario. His life had been ruined by one lone Middle-Eastern soldier. In that moment of realization, Harry's eyes burnt with rage towards the soldier that had done it, as well as the Middle-Eastern Alliance itself.
Once again, he corrected himself. The soldier had been doing their job. They were defending their fortress, following orders. They fired at Harry with the intent of saving their friends and fellow soldiers. They had seen their shot and they took it. Harry knew deep down that - despite their differences in country or race - every soldier was the same. They all followed their orders. They all took their shot when they saw it. Harry's rage cooled into self-pity as he thought of the soldier. He had been killed immediately after...eaten by a Pure Titan. Harry pictured their death. Tried to find joy in the memory. But he couldn't do it. It was too much. It was too horrible of a thing to imagine.
And so he emptied his thoughts, stepping up to the Warriors cabin with his worry beginning to fade. With a burst of strength he didn't know he had, Harry opened the door. As suspected, the other Warriors were already inside. Reiner and Marcel were asleep. Porco was lying on his bunk staring at the ceiling. Bertholdt was reading a book. Pieck and Annie were playing a game of chess together on Pieck's bed. At the sound of the door opening, the four of them all turned to face him. Their reactions were all different.
Porco watched Harry with a very impassive look, while Bertholdt looked on in surprise. Annie seemed surprised to see him, but she kept her face even. And Pieck looked overjoyed to see him outside of his coma, being the first to jump up from her bed. She rushed forward to hug him, but she stopped suddenly at the sight of his crutches, then she noticed his lack of leg. Harry frowned. Had they not been told about his injury? He sighed. "When I pulled out the shrapnel, I tore several nerves in my leg. They had to amputate it,"
"You'll have to use that...all the time?" Bertholdt asked. Harry replied with a sad nod. Everyone in the room peered down at Harry's missing leg, unsure of how to respond to that. They all knew he was the strongest of them behind Annie, and now he was reduced to this? They couldn't believe it. Their expressions all soured. Reiner and Marcel woke up, the commotion of Harry's return stirring them. Marcel spoke. "Harry?"
"I'm alive,"
"We didn't know," said Reiner. "They didn't let us see you,"
"I snuck in once," Annie countered.
The others all gave her odd looks of annoyance and shock, but they turned back to Harry. "I won't be able to join you guys in training...or battle,"
Porco sat up. "So...you're just a tactician now?"
"I think so..."
"And the Founder?"
Harry's eyes widened. The Founding Titan. He had completely forgotten about that. His mind had been so focused on his lost future that the thoughts of the Founder and Paradis had all but vanished. But they were back, and Harry couldn't help but question whether or not it was possible. The power of the titans would restore his body to its past state. It would restore him. His body. His hopes. His dreams. It would bring back everything. Harry's eyes glistened with a glimmer of hope. But then it faded. They wouldn't send him on such a dangerous mission in his state. They would send someone else. Either that or they would bring the Founding Titan to Marley. It would take years before the Founding Titan could be his. It was a lost cause.
"I'm not sure if they'd let me have it in my condition," Harry replied.
Reiner got to his feet. "Why not? The power of the titans would restore your body. It would fix your leg,"
"The General wouldn't send me,"
"Send you? To Paradis?"
"Yes. He wouldn't send me on the mission. I would be a detriment to the team,"
"Wait. So a mission to Paradis is happening? When? And who's going?" asked Marcel.
"I can't tell you. It's confidential. I've already told you too much," Harry stepped back, suddenly uncomfortable with the situation he had placed himself in. But he couldn't leave. Harry needed to be here. He needed to make sure his team was alright. He needed to make sure they were still with him. "When the General does let me tell you, I will. Immediately," This seemed to do the trick. They visibly relaxed, smiling openly. Pieck reached forward, grabbing hold of Harry's wrist as she pulled him towards her bed. She was gentle, allowing him to make slow and steady steps to avoid falling over.
He took a seat next to Annie, who had moved the chessboard aside to give him room. Harry sat between the two of them while the others gathered around. "What's been going on since the battle? I noticed everyone was helping in clean-up,"
"We've been cleaning up the city for the past couple of weeks, but they told us we would be going back to Liberio once you woke up," Bertholdt replied. "Now that you're awake, I'm sure we'll be going home in a few days,"
"Until then?"
"We help more. They still need our help with the rubble and the bodies," said Reiner.
"It should be easier. I cleared out a lot of it myself after I woke up,"
Porco raised an eyebrow. "You helped in clean-up?"
"Well, I can't necessarily drag or carry bodies or pick up debris. But I used my magic to repair a lot of the surrounding damage. I think I got less than a hundred miles. The damage should be fully repaired in a couple of days if we stay," Harry explained. Then he frowned. "But since we might be leaving soon, repairs might take even longer,"
"So you should rest," They all turned to the door. It was Zeke. "I've talked with the General, and he wants you to assist in cleaning up your mess. We will not be returning to Liberio until you've cleaned up everything you damaged. Seeing as that could take some time, I recommend you get some rest. You'll need it to perform your magic,"
"Sir...about what I said before," Silence. "About Marley and the Armed Forces," Zeke's eyes widened in recognition. Harry's hunch had been right. Someone in the Warriors had told Zeke or Magath about what Harry had said about his sister. It was most likely Porco. Or Reiner. The two of them were so focused on the Marley propaganda shoved into their faces that they were the most likely to throw any non-supporters to the General. "I want you to know that I didn't mean it. I was very tired on the day of the battle. From stress. I have nothing but love and loyalty for Marley and its Armed Forces,"
Zeke's expression softened so slightly that Harry was sure he was the only one that noticed. "I understand. I will relay this to the General. Now sleep. You will be needed tomorrow," He left, leaving the other Warriors alone in the cabin. Reiner was watching Harry curiously, and Porco was already climbing into bed. Harry tried to stand up, but something was wrong. The bed was too close to the floor. He wouldn't have the strength to stand up on his own. Slightly embarrassed, Harry whispered. "I can't stand up. Can someone help me?"
No one offered. Reiner, Bertholdt, and Marcel had all climbed into their beds to sleep. And Annie seemed too comfortable against Harry's shoulder to register that he had even said anything at all. So it was Pieck that whispered back. "You can sleep in my bed. I'll take yours," Harry smiled gratefully. After a half-hour of silence, Pieck got to her feet and moved towards Harry's bed, lying down on it so that she was facing him. Annie too got up, moving over onto her bed as she faced the ceiling. With the bed to himself, Harry laid down, and in an hour he was asleep.
"You will continue to walk the Earth for eternity!" His father shouted, his anger boiling as he peered down at him. His eyes hardened as he peered up at the man wearing white. His 'father'. "You have interfered for the last time, Hadriel. If you do so again, you will return to complete the Cycle!"
"Father," A voice cut in. He turned and saw one of his many brothers, Michael, stepping forward. "Hadriel was only trying to protect Mother. Perhaps you are acting too harsh-"
"SILENCE!" Their father shouted, drawing silence throughout the heavens. His fathers eyes narrowed on him again. "Return to Earth, Hadriel. And do not return. I forbid it!"
Without another word, he felt himself be pulled through the floor, falling through the clouds before slamming into the ground. He was once again on Earth. A feeling of rage overtook him as he relived what just happened. His banishment. He let it all out, allowing his powers to lash out in its destructive power. He no longer cared about the humans or their fragile lives. If his father was willing to choose them over his own family, than perhaps he would show his father just how weak they were. How fragile. He would kill all of them. He would conquer them. He would rule this planet as if it were his own, and when he was done with it he would kill his father once and for all.
March 1st, 845
For three days, Harry did nothing but fix the mistake he had made during the battle. He woke up every morning at 6 am, leaving the Warriors Cabin for one of the many cities he had destroyed. Harry would repair the cities he destroyed in increments of twenty miles, taking a few hours of rest in between. Harry was eventually able to rebuild everything he had destroyed in the Battle for the Fortress. All the debris between the ocean and the fortress had been reused to repair buildings in respective cities. And the bodies littered all over the countryside had all been displaced into a single spot where they could be retrieved.
On March 1st, the restoration process was complete, and the Warriors were gathered within their cabin by War Chief Zeke Yeager. "With the Restoration Project complete, the General has given us the green light to return to Liberio. Pack your bags. We will be departing in the morning," Without another word, Zeke left the cabin in silence, leaving behind seven excited children. The Warriors were in a rush, packing their things at the speed of sound in an attempt to speed up the process. But it didn't seem to help.
With their packing done, the Warriors were left with nothing to do. And so they decided to get some training in. Harry followed his friends outside into the trench, his slower pace evident in how much further his friends were along the trench. But he wasn't alone. Like always, Harry still had his thoughts. His mind. The instrument of his genius, his power, his fame, his pain. His mind reeled all the time with possibilities. Of futures. Of events. Of unlikely scenarios bound to him by fever dreams and lost hopes. But he didn't just fantasize. He also planned. With the information he knew was true, Harry planned for every scenario that was possible. He thought about his powers and how he could evolve them. He thought of Liberio. His parents. His sister. They would be waiting for him when he returned the next evening.
But would they welcome him as their son? The boy who had left them so many years before? Or would they welcome him as a Warrior? As the Hizuru dubbed 'Boy-Who-Killed'? Would they see him as their son? Or just the reason for their elevated status in the world? And what would his sister think? She was just two, yes, but would she know who he was? Would his parents have told her about him? How cute he had been as a child? How he loved space and the stars? How every night his parents read him books to help him fall asleep? Did they remember these memories now, six years later? Would they remember him?
Of course, they remembered him. They remembered the way he had been. The genius little boy who had been chosen from early on to be recruited into the Warriors program. They remembered the young boy without any friends, a social outcast who had been so displaced from his life outside of home that leaving to become a Warrior hadn't been a second thought. They would not remember him for who he was now. They would be repulsed by him if it wasn't for the status he brought them. They would see him as a murderer. As a freak with abilities unimaginable to even the Subjects of Ymir.
No.
He was giving them too little credit. He could barely remember them, let alone their flaws. They could be the most perfect parents in the world, caring for him despite his abilities and the countless murders he had caused. They could love him so much that they whispered prayers for him every night before they slept. They could love him so much that they showed pictures of him to his infant sister every day, just so she would know the face of her older brother. Yes. He focused on that future. The future in which his family loved him. Because family was the most important thing in anyone's life, whether your family was blood or not. Friends passed and went, disappearing into the void of life as they carried on with their adventures. But family. Families ventured into the darkness together, hand in hand as their faith in each other shined through the darkness.
Harry had faith in his parents and his family. He had faith in his fellow Warriors as well. He had faith in Annie. In Pieck. In Reiner. Bertholdt. Marcel. And even Porco. He had faith in them all. That one day they would fulfill their destinies and bring light back into the darkness of the world. Whether they brought the light in, or they helped someone else do it, Harry didn't doubt that they would all have a contribution.
And yet Harry had no faith in himself. The wells of faith and love in his heart had been spent on his family and dearest friends, leaving him empty and dry inside. He didn't believe in his abilities. His fame. His destiny. What was his destiny now that he was a cripple? How could the universe make use of him now that he was useless to his cause? How could he overcome the hurdles placed in front of him if he couldn't even run to gain speed? How could he focus on a single task with all of these thoughts rummaging through his mind all at once? How could he improve his powers if he had no understanding of how they worked? And how could Harry live with all of this pain dwelling in his heart?
The questions in his mind went unanswered for the duration of their walk. It wasn't until he reached them at the drill field that he began to wonder. When the Warriors left for Paradis, there were two outcomes present. He would be on the boat traveling to the island, or he would be watching the others leave without him. But the second outcome wasn't entirely bad, seeing as he could always sneak onboard. So once he arrived on Paradis, he would either have to help the others find the Founding Titan, or he would have to find it himself, without the help of his friends.
Harry would get the Founding Titan's power one way or another, and he would be returned to the form he had once lost. His life would be returned to him, and when it did return, he would carry out the endless number of plans he had formulated within his mind. So it was decided. Harry would go to Paradis. He would find the Founding Titan. And when the Coordinate was within his grasp, Harry would take it and rebuild his destiny.
"Potter," It was Magath. "I can't help but notice you're not training," Harry eyed the man with a hint of annoyance, something the General caught instantly. He laughed. "Oh, I'm not dumb, boy. I know you can't run with your friends anymore. But that isn't what I was suggesting. I was insinuating that you could perhaps use this time to build upon your magical abilities. Meditation seemed to help when you were training at Fort Tatakai,"
His eyes widened, and Harry realized that the man was right. Meditating had helped Harry gain quite a lot of progress during his training years before. But he had stopped meditating due to how time-consuming it was, seeing as he was needed for battle strategies, physical training, and war. But as he thought about it, Harry decided that perhaps meditation would be good for him. A way to clear his head. A way to find some sort of inner peace everyone seemed to think he was missing. So with a bit of help from the General, Harry took a seat on the dirt and closed his eyes. He sensed the General sitting down beside him, but Harry tried not to focus on that. He instead focused on his breathing.
He imagined a stream of white light surging into his lungs from his nose before a similar grey light was thrust from his mouth into the open air. Harry imagined this exchange for several minutes, his breathing slowing until he barely made a sound. It was then that he moved. He moved his arms from his lap, placing the tips of each of his fingers on the ground below him. He reached out. Harry felt the dirt. The tiny stones. The tiny worms that slithered around him. And then he felt them. The worms. The rats in the trenches. The birds in the sky. The fish in the river. He felt them all. He could feel their life the way he felt his own. He saw through their eyes. Smelt through their noses. Tasted through their mouths. Heard from their ears. He was them. And they were him.
Harry could feel the dirt. He could sense it like he could sense the worms or fish. He could feel the mantle of the Earth and the solid core lying at its center. Was this how he was able to manipulate the elements the way he had? How could he force water from the ocean two hundred miles away?
But understanding wasn't the purpose of this. The purpose of meditation was to clear one's mind. To reattune them to the world around them. And he had done that. But he needed to keep going. He knew that this was the answer to some of his questions. So he cleared his mind once more, focusing solely on his breathing. The worms, the rats, the fish, the birds. They all came to him again. Only he didn't get much time to be with them.
"Potter!" Harry's eyes shot open. He peered to his left, where General Magath was standing, a shocked expression on his face. The other Warriors had all stopped their training and were watching him as well. "What the hell did you do?" He asked, motioning to Harry himself. Harry - beyond confused - peered down at himself. He was immediately shocked. His entire body was covered in creatures. Worms were wrapped around his fingers. Snakes had wrapped around his waist and arms. Birds had landed on his head and shoulders. Rats had climbed into his lap. The animals he had seen before. They had been drawn to him. "Well?"
"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to draw them here," Harry replied. He shook the animals off. They didn't protest. They merely separated from him and slithered/ran/flew off into the distance. Harry wiped himself off and - with the help of General Magath - got to his feet. "I was meditating. I could sense the animals around me, and it seems they could sense me. I'm sure they were just curious,"
"You can...sense animals?" Magath asked.
"And humans. I could sense you the entire time you were next to me, but I lost you when I lost my train of thought. I need to work on that," Harry replied. The others didn't speak. They merely watched him as he took a seat once more, closing his eyes to continue his meditations. When they were certain no more creatures would swarm him, they continued their training. The General stepped away, moving back to the trenches. Left with his thoughtless mind, Harry smiled.
