Violence.

Hate.

Blood.

These are the things he sees in his dreams every night.

It was almost comical, his situation. The very same night he finished one of the most anticipated anime finale's in years, or possibly even decades, there's an electrical fault in his house. Lo and behold, he dies of smoke inhalation. Next thing he knew, he was being held by a young woman, probably still a teenager, barely able to see, feel, or hear anything. But he could see her. He could hear her voice. He couldn't understand what she was saying, except for one thing. She heard her giving him his name.

Hans.

Hans Kruger.

"Tsk, what a joke." He rolled his eyes, tossing his finished cigarette aside as he walked through the streets. Some might say it's unethical for a 15 year old to be smoking like he is, but nobody around cared. The way they saw it, if a little Eldian teen wants to poison himself with tobacco, let him.

That was his life now. A secondary citizen living with a white armband on his arm at all times, basically painting a target on his back for the PSA guards, and others outside the internment zones, to throw rocks at his head, dump mud and dirty water on him, and generally make life in general barely worth living. He shook his head as he showed his permit to the guards at the gates, who allowed him through.

"You're late, boy!" His boss snapped at him as he entered the printing room. He was a typical, fat, bald man with a moustache that snarled at everything he didn't like. In this case, it was anyone wearing an armband.

"Yes sir." He said simply, taking his hat off. His hair was short, shaggy, and brown, his eyes a pale grey, with dark bags under them from lack of sleep.

"The load's extra heavy today. The Warrior candidates have been chosen." The boss said with a scoff as he handed over two massive piles of unfolded newspapers. "Get to folding and get to riding. I don't want to see you again until these are all gone." He ordered.

"Yes sir." Hans said once again, grabbing the two piles and muling them over to the table where the twine and scissors were kept. "What I wouldn't give for a bag of rubber bands." He muttered to himself as he began measuring the length of twine he'd need.

Still, this tedious job brought about some news he'd been waiting for. The Warriors had been chosen. That meant he had to make a choice, to go through with the plan he'd been concocting for the past decade, or do nothing; let the chips fall where they may and ultimately get tripped. He'd been wrestling with this for years, but he knew, deep down, that if he wanted to survive, he couldn't just sit around and wait to trample underfoot.

He had to fight.

And he knew exactly how he would do it.


With the Warrior candidates chosen, It was time to put his plan into action. It took a few months, but thankfully, he had help. 'Help' in this case being the forced conscription of Eldian citizens in times of war. There was currently a war taking place between Marley and Brittanya, a country that seemed to be the equivalent of England in this world. This presented an opportunity.

An attack was to be mounted on the outskirts of Liberio, right along the coastline where numerous Brittanyan ships were approaching. This was a perfect place for his plan. If he was going to stand any chance of making any difference in this world, he'd need an edge. He'd need power.

He'd need-

BANG!*

A Titan.

"That would be the Colossal." He said to himself as he took a drag. He could feel the heat of it even from where he sat, in the basement of a warehouse not too far from where the battle was taking place. He let out a large puff of smoke as the hatch leading to the basement opened, and in walking in a number of men. "Cutting it a little close there." He said nonchalantly as three men approached, two carrying something wrapped in a burlap sack. No, someone.

"Believe it or not, kidnapping a noble under the noses of everyone in that mansion wasn't exactly easy." The man he assumed was the ring-leader said with a scoff as his peers placed the sack on the chair.

"And you confirmed it was the right one?" he asked.

"The steaming stumps where her legs used to be is a pretty good indicator." The ringleader drawled as he pulled the sack off, revealing the woman that was now sitting on the chair, unconscious and bound. True enough, her legs had been cut off above the knee, and the two stumps were emitting steam with not a hint of blood. Except for the stains on her dress. "Satisfactory?" The ringleader asked. Hans nodded and gestured to his right, where two large crates were waiting.

"Two dozen of the finest Marleyan rifles available to the conscripted forces. Not exactly cutting edge, but it'll turn the tides in whatever gang war ensues when this one is over." He explained as the two henchmen pried the crates open.

"Lookie here boys." The leader grinned widely as he picked up one of the rifles, getting a feel for it. "I can already tell these are gonna do some real damage." He inhaled through his nose at the barrel. "Haaaah! Nothing like the smell of good old black powder." He grin went perverse as he exhaled and placed the rifle back. The henchman immediately picked them up. "Best arms deal I've ever been a part of." He gives the boy a mocking salute. "You have any more of these money makers, send them my way. Happy to trade in favours, or cash." He said as he turned to leave.

"I don't think that's going to happen." Hans said, his voice trembling for a moment before he reached behind himself.

"Why's that?" the leader turned to face him.

Bang!*

He fell to the ground with a bullet through his skull.

"Sorry." Hans whispered as he held up a revolver. "But nobody can know my secret." He shot the other two as well, hitting one in the mouth, the bullet coming out from his neck, and the other, by complete chance, in the eye. Hans took a deep breath, staring death in the eye in response to what he'd done. He knew he'd have to do this eventually, and he thought he'd prepared for it, but… "Huurgh!" He emptied the contents of his stomach. "Knew it was coming, still hit me." He sighed. His stomach rumbled again, and once again his stomach emptied itself on the ground. "And that's it for the hardtack." He wiped his mouth, spitting out some stray vomit. "We'll be back with the jerky after a word from our sponsors." He mumbled, sitting down on the ground, leaning against the wall.

"An odd time for quips." A voice spoke. Hans turned his head, seeing the woman on the chair having regained consciousness.

"It's how I cope." He responded with a shrug, standing up on wobbly feet. "Lady Tybur, my name is Hans Kruger. I'd offer to shake your hand, but…" He trailed off before lighting another cigarette to calm his nerves.

"Lara Tybur, but you knew that." The woman responded calmly, looking at the situation around her. She looked down at her non-existent legs, seeing her stumps steaming and healing at a snail's pace.

"I take it you can guess why I brought you here." Hans said as he picked up a bottle of wine that he'd brought for the occasion, along with two wine glasses. Metal ones, to be on the safe side. "I made sure to grab your favourite wine. It was mentioned in one of the papers. It seemed the least I could do." He said as he poured two glasses.

"You want the Warhammer." Lara Tybur stated. To her credit, she remained calm and collected throughout the entire exchange.

"I do." Hans confirmed. "This wine is laced with Zeke's spinal fluid. In a few minutes, the Warrior unit will finish their assault on Brittanya's forces by dropping a few dozen Eldian Death Row inmates from a blimp, and they will be turned into Pure Titans." He took a sip of the wine. "And so will I." He let out a deep breath. No going back now.

"What exactly is it you hope to accomplish with this?" Lara asked, taking the whole thing in stride.

"A number of things. Key among them, I want to prevent the Founding Titan from falling into the wrong hands, both in Marley, and in Paradis." He said, approaching her with a knife. She tense ever so slightly as he approached, but he only cut the ropes just enough to let her right hand free.

The warehouse shook at the Colossal's steps through the water.

"It's already in the wrong hands. So long as the Fritz family holds the Founder, we are at constant risk of the Rumbling." She responded, letting her arm stretch and flex a little.

"We both know that's bullshit." Hans rolled his eyes.

"Language, young man." Lara borderline scolded him.

"I'm about to turn into a monster and eat you alive, and you're worried about my language." Hans shook his head in amusement. Funnily enough, it almost felt… nice, having someone care about his behaviour. "But that's besides the point. You're testing me, trying to figure out what I know and to what extent." He said, offering her one of the glasses. "Karl Fritz made a vow of pacifism. He and his bloodline won't start the rumbling, but someone else can if they have a titan with royal at their disposal."

"You're very clever, Mr Kruger." Lara accepted the wine, but did not drink.

"Hans, please." He responded, sipping the wine and taking another drag.

"Those are bad for you." Lara went on.

"I'm aware." Hans responded. "Huh, how many people get to say that they're literally the first person to tell me that smoking is bad for you?" He asked with an amused shake of his head.

"That's a sad thought." Lara allowed herself a slightly crestfallen expression. If nobody had ever verbally told him that smoking was bad, did this boy have anyone? The thought saddened her, despite her current predicament. "It doesn't have to be this way, you know." She said to him. "If you'd prefer it, you can leave and I'll never speak a word of this to anyone. I can see you don't want to do this."

"No, I don't." Hans confirmed. "But a storm is coming, and let's just say I'm uniquely qualified to stop it. Or at least, I can mitigate the damage. 80% is way too high." He whispered the last sentence.

"What exactly is it you hope to accomplish?" Lara asked. She still hadn't touched her wine. She was already a Titan Wielder, the spinal fluid wouldn't affect her, so she wasn't worried about that.

"Truth be told, I don't really know. All I know is that if I do nothing, the results will be worse." He finished off his cigarette and tossed it aside.

"And where did you get that idea?" Lara asked. She was a calm and stoic woman, but inside, her heart broke for the poor child before her. Such terror in such young eyes. He hid it well behind the cloud of smoke, but he was terrified. Terrified of what the future would bring.

"Same place I got that you were the Warhammer, and that Karl Fritz took a vow of pacifism." He said nonchalantly, refiling his glass. "If we had time, I'd tell you everything, and I really wish I could, I'd love to get it all off my chest, but that's not going to happen." Suddenly, the tell-tale signs of a blimp's propellers could be heard overhead. Just minutes now. "Let me put it to you this way. If I succeed, there's a very real chance that your brother will never have to fulfil his duty as a Tyber, let alone the rest of the family." he told her.

Lara's eyes widened slightly at the news. It'd long since been known that one day a Tyber would have to take a stand in the world and unite the people against Paradis. The fragile piece concocted by her ancestor and Karl Fritz would not last forever. And with the state of the world being what it was, it would only be a matter of time before Willy would have to rise up as the true leader of Marley and rally the rest of the world to strike at Paradis. This would inevitably end in Willy's death, or at least whomever undertook this great task, and countless others in the ensuing war. This was the legacy that their Tybur ancestors had determined and left to them. They'd been preparing for it ever since they became of age, and the times suggested more and more that Willy would be the one to uphold it with each passing year.

"If you're going to drink, I suggest you do it now." he told her, snapping her from her thoughts. Lara looked down at the glass, swirled the wine around a bit and slowly sipping it, letting the entire cup pour slowly into her mouth as she swallowed little by little, savouring her final taste of her favourite wine.

"That was considerate of you, thank you." She said as she finished, wiping a droplet off of the corner of her mouth.

"Like I said, it was the least I could do." He responded, somewhat grimly as he finished off his own wine. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." He said sincerely.

"I know." She said with a gentle smile.

Before anything else could be said, a loud, beast-like roar could be heard in the distance. Hans' entire body stiffened, his skin turning somewhat translucent, his veins pulsating underneath it. He took one last deep breath, and closed his eyes.

And then everything went black.


Hans shot upwards from his slumber, breathing heavily as if he'd just surfaced from nearly drowning. It was hot, that was the first thing he'd noticed. Next was the steam filling the room, which explained the heat. Next was…

"Fuck!" He yelped as he shimmied backwards in fright. Staring right at him was a massive skull, easily large enough to fit three of him inside. It had no eyes, no flesh, no skin, no anything. It was just lying there, dead as, well, a skeleton. The entire skeleton was still intact, though it was fading fast, turning into steam. The neck was strangely long, and the way the limbs were bent suggested it walked on all fours. "Me, not it." he allowed himself a deep, calming breath.

It didn't.

"Huuuurgh!" He retched once again. With barely anything in his stomach, all that came out was bile and wine. The morbid image in his head of chunks of Lara Tybur coming up did not help the way his stomach felt. Eventually, he just lay down and waited out the nausea. The steam from his would-be Titan corpse made it unpleasant, but eventually, the nausea passed, though not without more dry heaving along the way.

When he managed to stand up with shaky knees, he took a deep breath to get his bearings. The skeleton was almost completely gone, and the heat was dissipating. A speck of light caught his eye. On the ground, before the skull of the titan body, was a shiny jade pendant. It was round, attached to a leather cord. The centre of the pendant was shaped like a magatama, a comma-like shape that had significance in Japanese mythology, and it was surrounded by a thick ring with serrations on one side, and holes in the other.

It was nearly identical to the pendant Lara Croft wore.

"Lara Tybur, Lara Croft… Now it just seems like the universe is making fun of me." He sighed, slinging the necklace over his head. As he did so, an image flashed through his head.

Willy gave him the pendant the day he'd inherited the Warhammer from their grandfather. It traumatised him in ways Willy couldn't understand.

Willy held him close as he sobbed into his brother's shoulder. He was a 14 year old girl. Knowing he was responsible for his grandfather's death, a man who'd loved him and doted on him all his life, was not a burden he was ready to carry.

"Nobody blames you, sister." Willy held him close as he continued to sob. He still vaguely recalled his grandfather's calm smile as he was injected with the serum. Perhaps it was meant to be assuring for him, but it had the exact opposite effect. That smile would haunt him for years.

"Gah!" Hans gripped his head as a sharp pain shot through his head.

That was probably one of Lara's memories.

"Guess I have that to look forward to." He sighed as he shook his head. "As if I didn't already have trouble sleeping." He grumbled, pulling out another cigarette. It was the last one in the pack. "I need to slow down." He lit the cigarette with a tired sigh. He wasn't sure how his clothing and other items hadn't been destroyed when he turned, but he didn't care. He was just grateful for the cigarette. "Hope they have these on Paradis."