It is no wonder why humans try so hard to imitate the way of birds. When one looks to the heavens above, they see the average avian soaring even closer than God's creations. The hubris of man demands them to be closer, to attain their supposed right to the skies. To feel the wind brush against their face at full force, unblocked by walls. To venture outwards with no restriction to a world beyond. Little do humans ever consider the true lives of birds, where they must scrounge for any possible morsel that hasn't already been collected, and then return to their nest in the trees–away from the very clouds humanity dreamed to seek.
That is until the masked cadet, Krieg, came firsthand to their lives upon crashing into a tree.
After brushing off the remnants of a bird's nest from his hair, Krieg quickly ascertained the reason for his crash: the trigger of the right grip of his ODM gear was stuck. Not even the tried-and-true maintenance of multiple presses nor slapping the gear managed to fix it. It was likely that one of the internal mechanisms for the anchor had gotten jammed. No doubt due to the Masked Moron's incessant training for the past 3 years.
"Partner!" Sasha's voice called out from the surrounding trees Krieg initially came from. Immediately after she emerged from the foliage and took place on a branch next to him. "You alright? That was a nasty crash." Krieg still couldn't get used to his old friend's newfound vernacular, even though by this point he had heard it for longer than her original accent. To answer her question, Krieg clicked the right hand trigger several times with no reaction from the gear's anchor.
"Hey this is no time for rest, we gotta hustle!" Another voice came emerging from the trees. This time it was of the team's leader, Jean Kirschtein. He placed himself at Krieg's opposite side, hanging from his ODM gear that stabilized thanks to the surrounding wilderness. After all his time bragging about wanting to join the Military Police, he was given the task of managing this ragtag group of miscreants and misfits. It was pretty apparent he had grown sick of the pairing, not just for this training assignment but for the entire time they had been at the cadet corps. Though to his dismay, he seemed to fit way more than he cared to admit.
"At this rate we'll be dead last! What's the hold up?!" The last member of the team finally arrived, in typical brash and headstrong fashion. Connie Springer, the proverbial runt of the 104th Cadet Corps, whose bark was usually louder than his bite. The cueball cadet took place at the front of the group, looking straight at the Masked Moron.
To the Masked Moron, he often contemplated how exactly he came to be stuck to these three for a majority of his time. So much so the cadets referred to the party of misfits as the 'Bad Company'. He was sure the designated members would have raised a fuss about the name, if not for the Masked Moron or Potato Girl's infamous debut.
So then, did Krieg stick around due to Sasha's presence? Even though it was her, a distortion was still present in his mind. The warping one sees from their reflection on water. If he were to dive in headfirst, Krieg was sure he would drown in the depths. But Sasha was not the only one who garnered unease in the prisoner; there was no exception among the 104th Training Corps to whom this distortion belonged.
"Krieg's gear is stuck. The right anchor seems to be jammed." Sasha answered for him.
"Really, at a time like this?" Jean seemed more annoyed than actually concerned. "Should we just call it off then?"
"It's just the right one, yeah?" Connie verbally probed the masked cadet. "Left one ain't out of commission, is it?"
In response, the left anchor shot out from Krieg's ODM gear and hooked onto the tree nearby Jean, nearly grazing the brown-haired cadet's ear. Krieg let out a chuckle through his nose at the horse-faced cadet's initial expression of shock.
"Alright, if that's how it's gonna be!" Krieg half-expected Jean to continue his tirade, but the shock-turned-rage only fueled the horse-faced MP wannabe into action as he quickly grappled forward into the wilderness. "Don't come crying to me when I'm first!" Jean's declaration of challenge echoed as he maintained his headstart.
"Oh hell no, I'm not gonna be doing anyone's maintenance!" Connie shouted at the long-gone Jean, before immediately charging after him. Krieg couldn't even pretend to be surprised, as this band of misfits loved their bets. Be it whoever was fastest, or got the top score in an exam, whatever way they could get to show off their skills and talent. But to take it to a next level by ditching their teammate, didn't they realize this was a team exercise?
"Don't worry, Partner," Sasha's voice broke Krieg's thoughts. She gave a heartfelt smile to the down-on-his-luck cadet, and she offered some words of reassurance.
… Or at least he thought she would.
"I went easy on this month's training, so it should only need some oiling." And with that, Sasha set off as well.
Though this was more of Sasha's style, Krieg was still left dumbfounded. At this point it didn't even matter that Krieg was only working with half a gear, he wasn't about to let this offense stand. Teamwork and safety be damned, this was now a matter of pride.
Without much afterthought, Krieg leapt into the forest, leading with his left. The movement was awkward and felt incomplete, to be expected. Not to mention that his left was not his dominant side, but that didn't matter now. Half-baked or not, Krieg needed to utilize what he had regardless of the condition. Almost instinctively, Krieg pressed the jammed trigger to his right despite being aware of its broken state. Still caught on that practiced instinct, he pressed the trigger that released the compressed gas, surprised that it still maintained function. However, that surprise was short-lived as without an anchor to properly align the right portion of his body, the torque caused by the compressed gas caused Krieg's body to propel in an undesired direction and collide with yet another tree.
Once he regained his composure, Krieg lightly tapped the right gas trigger, causing his body to twirl slightly counterclockwise. That level of spin carried a certain momentum to it, due to the pressure of the condensed iceburst gas. That very same mineral that could erupt from as much as a spark and unleash massive devastation. It was no wonder prisoners like him were sent day and night to harvest the material, if it meant supplying power to the military's gear. It's kind of amazing that a human mind was able to harness such a thing from the earth's material. While this was no time to marvel at humanity's inventions, it did manage to concoct an idea from the Masked Moron.
Positioning himself towards the left side of the tree by anchor, Krieg then pressed the gas with all his force. As the gas veered him toward a counterclockwise rotation to 3'o clock, Krieg quickly released the anchor from its grapple and then no longer held the gas, effectively launching himself forwards due to the torque. As his body kept at the same momentum forward, the prisoner was reminded of the various birds that he had seen–and crashed into–and how they kept in the air at a steady pace due to gliding. But now he had to increase the pace if he wanted to catch up to his team. Like the birds of prey he observed before, Krieg aimed his anchor low and gassed closer to the ground, diving straight towards it. At the last few seconds, he changed his anchor's position deeper forward in the forest and reeled in, letting himself get taken in by the perpetual motion and increasing speed.
The feeling was exhilarating; the rush of a powerful breeze skating by his face, and the loss of gravity his internal organs felt as they were repeatedly lifted and dropped, all in the name of gaining more momentum. Not even the slight cuts and near collisions of trees and branches were enough to deter the cadet's tunnel vision, until he met his target.
In the small speck of light, Krieg could see it. The target: a small portion of the wooden titan's neck, exposed for the cadets to strike. Narrowing in on the nape, Krieg pressed the right gas trigger to emit enough force for his body to spin and cleave the section quickly. It proved effective as he could see the section excised from the target. Actually it proved too effective, as the spinning was now uncontrollable from applying too much gas. Amidst his gradually dimming sight, he could see a reflection of sunlight in front of him, as if it were bouncing off metal.
"-Look out!" A deep voice called out from behind Krieg, but it was already too late. The ear-piercing ringing of metal on metal resounded as Krieg's body bounced back from the impact. A chipped portion of steel seemed to fall from Krieg's side. While getting whisked further into the forest, Krieg looked backwards to try and make out what he just hit. With his dimming vision, he could ascertain two soldiers approaching a third, but the image was quickly overtaken by surrounding trees.
There was no reason to stop now. If anything, Krieg still hadn't seen Sasha, Connie or Jean yet, so they must still be ahead. He had to push further and faster. Kicking off the various branches, Krieg also fully applied the gas on the moment of impact to heighten the leap's momentum. If he could just tighten his body it would make the descent more streamlined, though that was easier said than done. Whether it be from adapting to the conditions or not, Krieg's body felt lighter now, and his movements swifter. Dodging incoming foliage was starting to become second nature as he entered the flow state. The targets came sooner, and eventually the number of slashes that had been present on them dwindled. Voices could barely be heard over the rippling of wind and pumping heartbeats.
It was only until a target finally came with no lacerations that Krieg's mind finally began to clear. If no one had touched it that meant he was first, right? Had he beaten those gambling misfits? Since when did he shoot past them? It was hard to recall, but this didn't mean he should be celebrating yet. Until the last target was struck, the fight wasn't over.
Utilizing the last of his gas, Krieg pressed tightly on the triggers to propel himself to the nape. With a spin, he would be able to strike his target in a clean cut. That is, if not for the sight of red that draped over the target. The red flowed swiftly in the wind, like a bolt of crimson lightning. Caught off guard, Krieg pressed the gas to spurt whatever was left to redirect his strike. His spinning could only be slowed by a microsecond, to where only his left blade would hit the target.
Just barely grazing past, Krieg veered away from the wooden titan dummy and plummeted to the forested ground in a hard thud. By now, the adrenaline from soaring through the wind subsided and his vision was becoming clearer. So clear that he was able to determine what exactly that stream of red lightning was from earlier: a red scarf.
"Can you stand?" Came the nonchalant voice of the scarfed cadet, Mikasa Ackermann, above him. Her hand was outstretched before Krieg, and he went to grab it before noticing he was still holding his blade. Noticing the blade had been broken near the hilt, Krieg fearfully turned his attention to Mikasa's red scarf. Having caught Krieg's shifted gaze, Mikasa reassured him matter-of-factly, "I'm fine; you missed."
Krieg breathed a sigh of relief. Last time someone nearly touched her scarf, they almost had their hand twisted off. Lord only knows what happens when someone actually damages it. Stowing away his blades, Krieg propped himself up with the aid of Mikasa, before the rest of her tightknit squad soon appeared and struck the target.
"Mikasa," Eren called out, still slightly annoyed at only making a surface-level cut. He landed next to the two with Armin in tow, who were both surprised at the masked cadet's presence. "...And Krieg? What are you doing here? Where's your squad?"
A good question. Krieg turned back toward the forest in the direction he came in. There was no way he managed to gap them that far ahead with a late start and half a gear, right? In mere moments, three cadets came bursting out of the woods and swiftly dispatched their target. They weren't the three cadets from Krieg's squad though, instead came two blondes and a lanky black-haired cadet.
"You…" Growled the blonde female cadet as she stomped her way toward the Masked Moron. The sudden sight and callout caused Krieg to give in to his fearful instincts and step back. Mikasa's squad was either caught by surprise or fear as well, since they could only stand on the sidelines and watch.
"Annie, stop!" Reiner commanded as he caught the female blonde cadet's arm, holding her back from continuing. Thoughts raced in Krieg's mind to try and figure out what exactly he did to elicit such vitriol. He didn't remember necessarily interacting with Annie much before, if at all. She looked like she was about to throw the more muscular man over her shoulder, until her other arm had been held back by Bertholdt. Now seeing all of them together made Krieg remember, they were the three he passed earlier in training.
"It was just an accident, right?" Bertholdt questioned the masked cadet, struggling to keep Annie back. "You didn't mean to hit Annie, right?"
Bertholdt seemed to be arguing in Krieg's favor, so then why did it sound like he was trying to convince himself more than anything?
"'Hit Annie'?!" Eren repeated in disbelief, exchanging a look at both Krieg and Annie. "What are you talking about?!"
Annie merely turned her hip, showing all of them the result of the earlier incident: her ODM gear had been struck, with a large slash now imprinted on the main housing compartment. Faced with the insurmountable evidence of his deed, Krieg finally realized what happened during his flight. Amidst his whirlwind of an attack earlier, Annie got caught in the crossfire when Krieg lost control. Pulling out his blade only further confirmed it, the blade got chipped and broke when it struck Annie's ODM gear.
Krieg could only look down at the destroyed blade in his hand. That very same hand meant to protect, had been used to harm a comrade. He could give any excuse in the world, but that cut will remain on her gear to the end of time, as a solid reminder of his mistake. In some way, no matter the effort, he had to atone.
I'm so–
The moment he looked up to face the three was unlike any sight before. Reiner and Bertholdt were the eldest of the cadets, so they were always looking out for the fresh faces like older brothers. Reiner especially, he was the one all the cadets seemed to go to, to get advice from, and inspired many to follow in his footsteps. Bertholdt was more on the softer side, mostly distant and taciturn, but his association with Reiner helped shine his more dependable nature. Even Annie, with her typical cold and aloof nature, never looked more than deadpan even at the most annoying inconvenience.
So then, why did Krieg feel so much animosity behind their eyes?
Krieg quickly lowered his head, less an apology and more to break eye contact as fast as possible. He wasn't sure what he saw, but it instilled a level of primal fear unknown to him before. For the sideliners, they either seemed to genuinely believe he was apologetic or that they wanted to diffuse the situation.
"He said he's sorry, so there's no need to escalate things any further!" Armin pleaded on Krieg's behalf. Even with Armin's intervention, something deep in Krieg forced him to not look up. There was a brief silence before Reiner spoke up.
"Fine. Just be more careful in the future." Even though his words seemed accepting, Krieg dared not to move his gaze from the grass. It was only until the sounds of footsteps growing distant did the masked cadet lift his head, to see only him and the three childhood friends left.
"I'd say you've gotten way better at handling the ODM gear, if you were actually hitting titans instead of our comrades." Eren's backhanded compliment had the stench of disappointment riddled in it, rather than mockery. To further illustrate his point, Eren faced the titan dummy behind them. Even from their distance, Krieg could see his shortcoming: his strike on the dummy had been smaller than even Eren's.
Krieg frantically moved his hands to the three, who seemed more perturbed than anything at the situation. His fingers were a flurry of dances to the three as they looked attentively at the movement. Krieg had been practicing the movements for his entire time in training, with thanks to Armin, so it came naturally to him. It didn't come nearly as easy as writing, but in the field when there was little time to put thoughts to paper, Krieg had little choice but for it to become second nature. It was only until Krieg's fingers stopped when Eren spoke up.
"Reiner said it was fine, so there's no need to say any of that." Despite what Krieg thought he signed to them, Eren seemed particularly upset compared to Mikasa and Armin, like he had just heard a distasteful joke.
"Eren," Armin chimed in, much to Eren's surprise, "I think he was apologizing to us, not badmouthing Reiner and them." Thankfully, Armin's translation of Krieg's handwaves–along with Mikasa nodding in agreement–was enough to dissipate Eren's menacing glare.
"Wait seriously?! I was pretty close at least." Eren tried to frantically save face with the two. Now it made sense when he was briefly looking away during Krieg's signing.
"Not at all." Mikasa said in her trademark deadpan tone. Their squabble would've continued if not for the arrival of a certain potato-eater and her entourage.
"No way! Krieg won?!" Connie's voice rang out as the three made their descent to the group. "But you were all the way in the back."
"You had some secret weapon or something didn't you?" As much as it annoyed Krieg, Sasha's disbelief was probably the greatest of everyone's. Still, it felt very cathartic to win out as the underdog, rub it in their faces while saying 'I told you so!'
Riding that ego-inflated high, Krieg indulged in the feeling by merely responding with his eyes, giving a shit-eating grin and placing his finger to the lip of his face mask. As if to humble the masked misfit, Eren promptly informed the new arrivals of Krieg's blunder. For Connie and Sasha, the two seemed more upset about having missed the near-fight than Krieg's actual wellbeing. As for Jean…
"So that blur really was you…" Jean's competitive rage turned to a snarky jeer. "I nearly mistook it for the Suicidal Maniac, especially since you smacked into Annie. I see you're trying to secure a death wish before the titans get to you, Masked Moron."
"... Huh?!" Eren called out at the mere mention of his moniker, 'Suicidal Maniac'. Like a commandment, the sea of cadets parted between Jean and Eren. This was the telltale sign that they were going to squabble, as was the monthly usual.
"I'm just saying, the way Krieg flung himself across the field will probably serve as inspiration to you once you see a titan."
Eren was about to let the insult go, as infighting in the middle of the training field served as a one-way ticket to punishment. That is, until the titan-hating cadet felt a jab on his shoulder, namely Krieg's elbow. Giving the Masked Moron his attention was the wrong decision to make in this situation, as Krieg merely pointed at Jean while raising an eyebrow. No words were spoken on the Masked Moron's part, but it had been unfortunately understood.
"At least I won't piss my pants the second I see one, Horse-Face." Eren began striding through the parted sea, ignoring Armin's pleas for a truce. Satisfied with his handiwork, Krieg sneaked away from the two while also trying to avert his gaze from Mikasa's glare. His scurrying landed him next to Sasha and Connie, who were both fixated on the ensuing scrap that was instigated. In scummy fashion, Krieg removed his ODM gear and placed it in the hands of his compatriot.
Just needs a little oiling. Krieg signed to the two before a shout that was all-too-frequent for the prisoner echoed from the forest.
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE, MAGGOTS?!"
The feeling of standing at attention for what felt like hours was not unknown to the masked cadet, but when it's tacked on top of hand-to-hand combat exercises and group punishments, it was actually a miracle he could stand as straight as he did. Maybe it was from the rigorous training the commandant put them through, this form of conditioning so that even they could surpass a titan. Although he had the drawings and testimonies to draw from, it wasn't as though he knew exactly what they were. In some of the cadets' eyes, he must have been lucky to never witness the horror of those monsters firsthand. If only they knew where he was during the time Wall Maria was broken.
Now those same people who had never seen their enemies firsthand were standing shoulder to shoulder with him in the moonlight, awaiting judgment. Though there were groans of exhaustion around him, the gossip of the eventual feast was much louder–especially coming from Potato Girl. According to Sasha, she saw the officers hauling meat and deduced it to be for the new blood, to which the masked cadet highly doubted. Krieg wasn't sure what the purpose of the ceremony was, as if designating the top of the class and sending teenagers to battle was something to be celebrated. Maybe an upkeep of tradition, to boost morale? If anything, all that morale was gonna go to the officers themselves, and Krieg made sure to let Sasha know that.
His musings were enough to distract the masked cadet from the background speech of the commandant, up to the point when the cadets began to disperse towards their bunkers in excitement. As for Krieg, he made way towards the commandant's office as per Sadies' instructions after his punishment. Was it one last reprimand for the road?
Upon entering the barely lit office, Krieg could only see the commandant's back from across the room as he looked out the window. The badge branding his back was illuminated by the candle's flame, the symbol of a shield superimposed by two clashing blades–the same symbol that was imprinted on Krieg's own brown uniform. It differed from the green uniform that had been framed on the distant wall, the symbol of the Scouts with their iconic wings.
"Don't expect congratulations here, maggot," was Commandant Sadies' first words to the masked prisoner before turning to face him. In likewise fashion, Krieg didn't bother to stand at attention, impatiently crossing his arms. "I've had the displeasure of reprimanding your fellow comrades here for the past 3 years, yet this is your first time in my office. Do you know why that is?"
The venom that spat from Sadies' mouth was enough to corrode the tension in the air, yet its stagnation didn't feel any different from the caves Krieg was accustomed to. While Krieg was about to sign a distasteful response, Sadies raised a hand dismissively.
"Don't answer. I don't give a damn about those hand signals cadet Arlert has been teaching you." While the seething animosity was there like always, the commandant's berating was different than it had been before. His voice wasn't at the volume that it could blow one's eardrums out, instead it was still and unwavering.
"Let me tell you: it's because if it had just been the two of us–alone–I would've killed you where you stood." The blatant disregard for the words Sadies spoke was enough to rattle movement in Krieg's posture. Krieg's eyes quickly glanced toward the framed uniform; his gaze fixed on the Scout symbol imprinted on the chest. "To think the government would actually entrust a murderer like you to protect the people of these walls is sickening. And that you would have the gall to stand in the ranks of those who have devoted their lives to protecting their fellow man, knowing you took the life of the very same soldier in cold blood."
For a glimpse, the uniform was dirtied. The green was now stained in crimson, the symbol of a unicorn replaced wings in a grotesque crimson and mud. Krieg could finally see after all these years, that the resonance surrounding Keith Sadies was now losing dissonance. These were no longer the words formed with the purpose to break one down and mold them into an obedient soldier.
"Families, who have lost more than you ever had, now have to place their futures on a worthless criminal like you. If it weren't for the government's desperation to feed more bodies to the titans, you would've served more purpose hanging in the gallows."
As if to signify the meeting's adjournment, the candle was quickly snuffed by the commandant turning back towards the window.
"You are dismissed, cadet Krieg."
Plumes of dust and residual gunpowder poof out from the cannon as Krieg pulled the cleaner out from the barrel. While not particularly pristine, it was much easier to peer into the hole and observe the results of his handiwork. Somehow the cleaner proved more effective than Krieg initially thought, as his cleaning device didn't need to dig into any crevice within the cannon barrel to clean it. Curiously, Krieg placed his finger into the barrel, feeling the rim and the smooth interior of the metal. It was bizarre seeing such a device up close, as his time with them in training was relatively short compared to ODM gear training.
Likely because Commandant Sadies didn't want any cadets inadvertently blowing each other to smithereens. Though he wondered how devastating they would be, as according to those from Shiganshina they did little more than scrape the Armored Titan. Was that due to the Armored Titan being so strong? But if that were the case, wouldn't the Armored have been the one to break the outer gate of Wall Maria, not the Colossal Titan? Is the issue just that the weapons they had on hand were too weak?
Well, it was a lot easier to think that, especially without having seen the Armored or Colossal firsthand. All Krieg knew was that during practice, he was sure the accuracy of these types of cannons were terrible. One could chalk it up to being incompetence, but when a majority of cadets had issue hitting as large of a target as a titan, surely it was more than a fluke. Krieg took out the Red Book he had kept on him the entire time, having become glued to it throughout his years of training. The designs of various weapons and titan anatomy remained picturesque in his mind as he flipped through the book, until coming upon the entry regarding the wall-mounted artillery. Now with his understanding in literature, being able to comprehend the tools at his disposal was easier.
From the Red Book's drawings, he could see the cylindrical shape of the artillery ammunition associated with the cannon. If his comprehension was correct, they were 'High Explosive shells' and were the sole source of killing a titan with the cannon. To confirm first-hand, Krieg opened the nearby ammunition crate to view the shell. The ammunition itself seemed to bear some grooves on the cap, so then how come the cannon itself did not? Was that design intentional? What if the barrel of the cannon had those same grooves, would that make it better?
"Wait, what about you, Krieg?" Eren's question jolted Krieg out of his contemplation, as he now noticed various eyes had been on him. Connie, Thomas, and Mina had stopped their maintenance work and were slacking off just like the Masked Moron. If this were a day earlier, Krieg was sure the five of them would be undergoing punishment right about now. "Are you joining the Scouts too?"
He wasn't sure how the conversation got steered in this direction, but if the past few years were anything to go by, that was almost always on Eren's mind. Joining the Scouts. Judging from earlier in the morning, it seemed like the Scouts were in high praises, despite many cadets claiming it to be a death wish. Did such positive reception come from returning home from the glory of battle in unknown territory? No doubt the ones to return become skilled warriors on the field. That must be what the citizens admire the most. That semblance of strength against a formidable foe, dedicated to protecting the weak.
Krieg knew though, that wasn't him.
Krieg averted his gaze, not sure how to answer such a simple binary question. Eren's eyes narrowed but he stopped himself from questioning further, as if he had already toiled with that aggressive path before. Promptly, Thomas Wagner broke the silence in an attempt to alleviate the awkwardness.
"That's right, you weren't at the dinner last night. Commandant Sadies really strung you up till the last minute, huh?"
The mute masked cadet merely tilted his head questioningly, actively choosing not to remember his conversation with the commandant the night prior.
"You missed Eren's speech," the black-haired pigtailed cadet, Mina Carolina, answered as she placed a hand on Eren's shoulder, "If you were there, I'm sure you'd be dead set on the Scouts like Thomas and Connie."
"Don't just go spewing that crap out to anyone!" Connie shouted as he put his head back down in his work. "Besides, that wasn't the only thing that happened; could've used your help keeping that damn Potato Demon in check. She probably got smoked out by the officers and that's why she's late."
As if on cue, Sasha's voice chimed in, "When you're as good a hunter as me, you don't get 'smoked out'." All eyes were now on the last member of Mounted Squad Four, Potato Girl. The only thing was, she didn't have the face of a hunter gloriously returning from catching prey. It was much more lecherous, like the pure embodiment of gluttony was strewn from her eyes to her mouth. For Krieg, this could only mean one thing.
"You were right, partner; the officers did have it. I managed to snag this bad boy from the Officer's Pantry." From the inside pocket of her uniform jacket, the ravenous hunter pulled a sizable roll of meat encased in twine, discretely showcasing it to her accessories in crime. While the reveal of her grand theft erupted in gasps of terror to the rest of the squad, it left Krieg in amusement as he could only point and chuckle at the sight.
"Sasha! They can throw your butt in the clink for that!" Eren stated, though he made no move to stop her.
"Are you really laughing?!" Thomas turned to Krieg in disbelief as he cried, "What is wrong with you two?!"
"What isn't wrong with them?" Connie rhetorically sighed, as if he had no affiliation with the Bad Company. "Guess they're the 'Dumbass Duo' even after disbanding. What a couple of freaks…"
"It'll be fine." Sasha reassured the group unconvincingly, her meat trance strong enough to drown out even Connie's insult. "I'm willing to share." In contrast to her obscene breathing and vulgar drooling, this was surprisingly generous from the gluttonous girl. Krieg could still clearly recall the same girl nearly chomping her own father's hand off for just a piece of jerky. "Besides, since Krieg here is cooking, there'll be enough for everyone. Sandwiches galore!"
Now it was Krieg's turn to join the rest of the squad in disbelief. He must've heard that wretched Potato Girl wrong.
Since when did I agree to be cooking for anyone?!
"Wait seriously?! Then you've gotta let me in on it!" Thomas had now effectively been made turncoat to Sasha's clutches.
"M-me too! I'm in on it too!" Mina boldly joined in on the fun.
"What's gotten into you two?" Eren's confusion and ignorance was blatant.
"I haven't tasted Krieg's cooking since survival training," Thomas was seemingly caught in a daydream as he answered Eren, "I don't think I'll ever forget the taste of that roasted bird till the day I die."
"That's not even the best dish." Sasha chimed in with her own testimonial propaganda, "Back then he managed to roast a deer we caught to perfect tenderness. It wasn't gamey at all. Now just imagine the flavor of this combined with freshly oven-baked bread!" Krieg could practically see the trail of saliva glistening in the sunlight as Sasha hobbled to the ammunition boxes to stash away her spoils.
"Hey if they get one, so do I! Just so you know." Connie declared with feigned aloofness. "It's gotta be better than whatever the chow hall serves."
Utterly flabbergasted at his future assignment, Krieg hung his head in defeat as he reached for the cleaner. Leave it up to the members of the Bad Company to rope others into their schemes, Krieg thought, as if he wasn't equally as responsible. Yet even though he was a proverbial troublemaker, the masked prisoner was able to surround himself with such supportive comrades. The type of people who would willingly jump into the metaphorical fire with them. If Krieg were still in those dingy, isolated caves, he would never come to know nor befriend these same people free from chains.
Even if he wasn't strong enough to be the people's hope–regardless of whether he chose to be–the comrades around him were. And if he stuck by their side, maybe he could find the strength to stand with them as well.
ZAAAAAAAAAP
Like lightning before thunder, a bolt of blinding light flashed in front of the entire squad's eyes. What was once the grandiose sight of the expansive landscape waiting to be reclaimed, was now taken over by the terrifying muscles and skinless face of a monster. Now Krieg had finally come face-to-face with the very sight those in Shiganshina had seen. This was the face of the terror that would threaten the lives of humanity.
Moments felt like hours in this freeze frame of time. Enemies locked eyes with each other in a standstill, as if waiting for the first move. If those same stories of Shiganshina were to repeat, that would spell doom for humanity as it knew it. Those same people had no clue that day five years ago would be the last day they spent in peace. The days to follow would only lead to the final crawl and dying breath of those who managed to survive. If that was the inevitable future for humanity if the Colossal Titan won, then there was no other choice for Krieg.
The masked cadet, with barely a moment passed, immediately lunged for the nearby ammunition box. While his mind took him right to the high-explosive shells he observed before, Krieg's body still needed to catch up as it was still in motion to break away from the cannon. He could even hear Eren let out an exasperated gasp before disaster followed suit.
Suddenly, a wave of scalding steam burst from the Colossal Titan, directly spraying onto the squad and the nearby artillery. Krieg's vision was covered in white smoke, before a sudden impact of the ammunition he was desperately reaching for had collided with his skull. In tandem with the steam's pressure, Krieg could feel his body soaring in the sky before quickly plummeting.
Even though his mind was rattled, Krieg's body knew the feeling of air brushing past his back all too well. At that moment the masked cadet knew he had to anchor. Krieg tried to raise his arm and press the trigger, but his body was no longer listening to him. He pressed it again, but his finger didn't move. It was like his body had finally given up, no longer resisting the pull of death. Driving off primal instinct, Krieg pressed one last time and heard the winding of the anchor being launched.
That was when a sharp pain was sent through his calf, as if pierced by a spear. His brain sent the signals throughout his nerves, only for his body to no longer react to the stimulus. It seemed it was only seconds away from shutting off. Before Krieg's vision had gradually become darker, he could hear the various voices of his squadmates shouting. Some of rage, some of concern, but only one of reassurance.
"Try not to move, partner. Understand?"