Chapter Text
Time was too fast, and everything went by in a blur. Nothing made much sense. At least to him. Eren had little time to ponder over the specifics, and he wasn’t quite sure about anything either. He understood little—maybe nothing at all.
His mind was a complete mess, disorganized, and all over the place. It was something he could do nothing about. Too much had happened in the minuscule time that had passed, giving him no moment to stop, take a breath, and try to comprehend the events that just occurred. Even if he had no idea what to do next, even if he didn’t know where to walk—after everything he once knew… crumbled into nothing—he had to move forwards and continue walking. That was all he could do.
Eren bit his lips in uncertainty, eyes slightly dazed, as he gazed at the darkening sky. What a beautiful color, he thought for a moment.
“Are you okay?” Mikasa glanced at him, concerned.
“I…” Eren swallowed. “I do not know,” he admitted and looked down at the reins of his horse. He thought for a moment.
Was he okay? To be honest… no. He wasn’t.
But was he ever? He wasn’t quite sure.
He turned back to Mikasa and whispered, ever so softly, “I… I feel tired.”
Mikasa paused at his statement. It was barely noticeable, but Eren had seen it. “We…” she stumbled upon her words. It was as if she had given up talking, with the way she turned away and decided to focus on riding. But then she looked to Eren and said, “We all are.”
He didn’t argue with that. Instead, he grunted in agreement and observed Mikasa for a little longer.
She turned to glance at him, stilling when she was caught. For a moment, Eren thought that she would continue riding, but she suddenly said, “Also… Thank you.” She added, “For saving me.”
“…” He blinked, momentarily surprised. Then, he turned away, narrowing his eyes as the walls came into view. “Oh…”
He forgot.
He was so preoccupied with everything else that he forgot about that one fact. Weird, right? It was so obvious, now that he thought about it. Mikasa had pulled him out of the clutches of Reiner—the Armored Titan. She had untied him at his request and he quickly went to face the hoard of Titans to test this… this new ability… right? He couldn’t quite remember.
There were a lot of things he couldn’t recall.
Was his mind always this messed up? Disorganized, messed up, and all over the place, he wasn’t even sure if he was always like this. Important things were shoved to the back of his mind but unimportant ones weren’t quite clear either. It was weird and useless. His mind was a mess, especially after that.
How was he to know all that information? It was only recently that he finally regained older memories… how could he have known about… that ?
Eren felt like crying in frustration. He wanted to throw a tantrum, kicking his feet up, and punching the air… because he didn’t know what else to do. How else was he supposed to get these bottled emotions out? He didn’t feel okay. Not at all. Maybe he was never okay, maybe he was always messed up, but he could tell, with a lot of certainties that this wasn’t normal .
The feeling of being drunk on power didn’t feel normal. As addicting as it was, it was also scary. He could still remember it clearly.
Power coursed through his bloodstreams at that very moment and lightning crackled before his eyes. He wasn’t sure how he looked—but he didn’t care. He felt great . It was a momentary bliss, as unexplainable power jolted through him like an old friend.
And then the puzzle came into view.
There was a soft click at the back of his mind then, too. After lightning zapped and he felt drunk on power, everything went into place. Everything connected at that very moment.
He knew in an instant that the puzzle—whatever it was—was finally completed, and finished for him to look at. And he could remember wanting to see the puzzle. Wanting to understand what made him feel empty for so many years…
Until he saw it.
It was like wanting to meet someone until actually meeting them. Instant regret filled him, spilling over, as he saw the completed puzzle. He wished he didn’t know. He wished he never knew. Even if he knew that knowing was better in the long run… he couldn’t help but feel that ignorance was a bliss. He would have been happy knowing nothing about this… and he would have been happy. He would have been fine.
Who needs to know the truth when he can just… live happily?
Three thousand years ago… a young boy had saved a demon. The demon and the young boy became friends. When the young boy prayed… prayed for help, the demon had answered, and had given the young boy, a power others knew not. The young boy was a god in all but form, as his body remained human, regardless of his youthful appearance. He was not ethereal, but his powers were divine. He was the devil.
The devil of all earth.
However, as powerful he was, he was limited, unable to act due to the laws shackling him in place. He had fallen asleep.
Two thousand years ago, a young girl fell into a tree, meeting the devil. The devil had given the young girl a portion of his power, and in return, had asked for companionship. A friend. But the girl had left, leaving the devil as lonely as ever.
The girl was given a portion of the devil’s power and was able to change the world. Unfortunately, she died not long after, and was punished for leaving the devil. She was chained to an otherworldly world, forced to stay there for all of eternity for leaving the devil.
Meanwhile, her soul was divided into nine parts, starting an endless cycle of consumption. Her soul that was once used to prosper a kingdom was then used to spread tyranny and to colonize foreign land, spreading their wings as far as possible.
Five hundred years ago, a group of people, intent on fighting the tyrannical rule, looked for a clue… and discovered the devil. They took the devil to their laboratory and experimented, desperate to find a weakness, a clue, something . But before they could take a step further in their research… the laboratory burned down, and the devil had disappeared.
What happened to the devil?
The devil found himself on a foreign island, experiencing freedom for the first time. But the devil was still weak and had fallen asleep. Again.
Fifty years ago, the devil woke up and began the new chapter of his life.
The devil… was him.
The ride wasn’t long. Eren and the others eventually regrouped with the rest of the Survey Corps. Hange and the Little One were also there. They rode at the front, faces solemn, lips pursed, as they rode near until they stopped. Their eyes lit up in recognition when they landed on them.
Not many people followed behind Hange and the Little One. And it wasn’t a leading problem. No, too many soldiers had died long before. Either from the previous expedition, Utgard Castle, or due to chasing after the Armored and Colossal. Anyhow, the group that followed the two was scarily small.
The lack of veterans was concerning, to say the least. It left a hole where they should have been and caused an air of uncertainty around them. Everyone was jittery and they can be ambushed by Titans at any moment. This wasn’t the ideal place to stop for a talk.
But that didn’t stop Hange.
“What happened?” She immediately demanded, as soon as they were in earshot. For a moment, she paused to look around, her eyes drifting from soldier to soldier, before landing on Eren. She then moved on, pinpointing on a seemingly random soldier. “You, report,” she ordered.
The soldier let out a loud yelp, saluting in respect, then began. Or tried to.
He stammered, letting out incoherent sentences that were too jumbled. Even for Moblit, who furrowed his brows in confusion.
Hange waved her hand in dismissal, interrupting the soldier. He reddened when Hange shot him an irritated look—which was uncharacteristic of her.
Instead, she turned to Connie, and asked. This time, much tiredly than before. “What happened?”
“Um…” Everyone watched as Connie wracked his brain, scratching his hairless head for a moment, before answering, “Eren did something—I think. He… he controlled the Titans…” he trailed off in uncertainty. He looked to the others for help.
The other soldiers—Jean and Sasha, in particular, murmured in agreement, their heads bobbing up and down. Their eyes automatically drifted over to Eren, who flinched and ducked down.
Hange put a hand on her chin, deep in thought. “Controlled?” She echoed, then turned to Eren. “What did they mean by ‘controlled’, Eren?” She murmured, “Could it be? A new ability? Or something else?” She looked up at the brunet, expecting an answer.
“Uh…” Eren opened his mouth to answer. But before he could say anything, Levi quickly intervened with a simple raise to his arm.
“Hold up,” Levi interrupted. He glared at the Squad Leader, his terrifyingly dark eyes boring holes into her. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes had darkened in irritation. “Is that important?” He snapped. “Interrogate the brat afterward. We have to get out first. If we stay any longer, the brats’ll shit their pants.”
He didn’t wait for Hange’s answer but turned away instead. Almost leisurely—he rotated his horse around, until it was facing the same direction as most of the soldiers. But he didn’t move without sparing one last glance—in Eren’s direction in particular.
There, he opened his mouth—very briefly—and paused, as if he wanted to say something. Eren perked up at the action and was prepared to call out, but then Levi suddenly clacked his mouth closed and hastily turned away, dark hair flying as he did so. Eren deflated.
The rain was unexpected. In the darkness of the night, where almost everything was silent, the rain was a stark contrast. It hit the windows harshly, making loud sounds as it collided with a loud, resonating, crash. Each raindrop echoed throughout the desolate building and for someone like Eren—who had sensitive ears—it was deafening.
In a way, the rain was intimidating.
No one dared to leave their rooms in such weather9, content with staying in bed to rest, as the weather raged on and on. But that wasn’t the case today.
There would be a meeting today, compiled of several soldiers, including the veterans and the 104th Cadets. There would be other soldiers, too, many recently recruited, and others from another 104th from a different district.
Eren sighed. He sat restlessly in his chair. His heart was faster than normal—he could feel it hit his ribcage. It was almost as if a hint of adrenaline was still running through him. The feeling was anxiety-inducing.
He took a deep breath and glanced out at the window. His cheeks rested on his hands, his elbow standing on the table. At first glance, he looked like he was relaxing, almost leisurely. But a second look was all it took to break that façade. He was too tense, after all.
Eren sighed again.
What horrible weather.
He closed his eyes in irritation, feeling everything more acutely than usual. He tapped his fingers on the table, his legs shaking in rhythm as he waited.
They know, he thought desolately.
The absurd, out-of-control fear was back again, stronger than before.
They know.
They know…
He wasn’t sure if he could take it anymore.
Not only were they suspicious of him because of the expedition… now, but they were also even more suspicious, downright hostile, after his stunt with controlling the Titans. It was logical, he knew. He would be too, if he met someone like that. But it still hurt.
The sudden scrutiny was nerve-wracking, terrible, and filled him with stress at the end of the day. The feeling of eyes boring into his back, gazes filled with suspicion and distrust was nothing like he had ever experienced before. He just wasn’t used to it.
He was used to living alone, secluded out in a forest. He was used to solidarity, living each day, wondering when his nightmare would finally end. The nightmare had ended—very long ago—but the scars remained, and sometimes, and not for the first time, he often found himself wondering if he had truly woken up from this nightmare. What if he had never woken up… but had just entered another dream?
He sighed tiredly.
Suddenly, the door creaked open and a pair of footsteps stepped inside. He turned his head in curiosity—or he would have, had he not frozen at the voice.
“Tired?”
The Little One, he thought. It was unmistakable; the voice was too unique for him to confuse it with someone else’s.
Eren’s throat suddenly dried at the sight of the other man. He blinked once, then twice, and mutedly turned away from the doorway, and looked at his hands instead. The words he wanted to say wouldn’t come out. They were lodged in the back of his throat, happy to not leave. Nothing came out of him and he could only stare at his hands.
“No answer?”
It was awkward. He briefly turned to the Little One—just a little glance—and flinched when he was caught. The two shared a gaze for a moment, before Eren quickly turned away, his brown hair flying into the air as he did so. He let it curtain his face, covering his expression.
Good, he thought. Anxiety bubbled at the pits of his stomach, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to face the other man.
For the first time, he didn’t want to talk to the Little One. Everything felt awkward, almost as if they had never spoken. Ever. And most of all, their last conversation… well, it wasn’t the best.
He wanted nothing more than to hide underneath the bed, away from the wandering eyes. He shouldn’t have arrived early. This was too nerve-wracking.
Eren glanced at the Little One again, swallowing in nervousness, as he slowly opened his mouth. “D… do you hate me?”
He watched as the Little One abruptly blanched, momentarily taken aback. His dark eyes widened and his mouth opened, as if to say something, but nothing came out. Eren was terrified, fearing for the worst. He wondered what the Little One was thinking.
Wait…
Corporal Levi.
It still felt foreign on his tongue—like something that just didn’t fit. But he’ll have to get used to it—preferably right now. He needed to stop calling Corporal Levi the Little One.
The—Corporal Levi was right. He shouldn’t be dependent on him. His whole life’s purpose shouldn’t have been on him. He was right; that wasn’t fair at all. For Mikasa and Armin, who stayed with him throughout it all—and loved him—to be below Corporal Levi… wasn’t fair. He knew that.
Eren snapped out of his thoughts when Levi sighed. He watched—albeit somewhat warily—as the other man pulled out a chair and sat down, right across from him.
“I don’t hate you,” he admitted softly.
That can’t be right.
“B-but…” Eren swallowed. “I am the reason why humanity lives inside the walls… I killed people—a lot of people—and…” he took a shaky breath and looked at his hands. It was clean, but he knew that it was disgusting. He knew that it was covered in blood. Quietly, he said, “I killed so many people… innocent people too. They did not deserve to die.”
“They didn’t,” Levi agreed softly.
Eren flinched, and he opened his mouth, ready to spill everything—but then Levi continued, “But I also killed people.”
“… huh?”
He watched as the—Corporal Levi—crossed his arms and looked at him through his lashes. “I used to live in the Underground,” Levi began. “The air down there is shitty and it stinks like piss. People are always dying. Everyone’s always sick. So many kids die too young because they’re too weak to survive in a fucking hellhole…” he took a deep breath and glanced at Eren. “Everything is shit. The people are shit. The air is shit. Everything. That… that was the life I lived for a long time. I didn’t know anything else.
“But I knew that in order to survive, there were things that I had to do. Robbery, beating… killing. Do I regret it? Yeah, I do. Most of them didn’t deserve to die. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. But I won’t let those deaths drag me down.” He narrowed his eyes. “And you shouldn’t let that happen either.”
“But—”
“Listen, Eren,” Levi interrupted, cutting the brunet off. “You’re carrying a shit-load of luggage. You did bad things, I did bad things; we all did something bad. There’s nothing you can do to change that. You have to look beyond the things you’ve done. Don’t waste your time. Don’t waste the dead’s time, thinking about something that already happened.” He paused to take a deep breath. “But always remember. Always learn from the past or you’ll end up repeating everything again.”
That… that makes sense.
Reluctantly, Eren nodded in agreement. He ducked his head down and looked back at his hands. There was a lot of blood, perhaps even overflowing.
Don’t regret it. But always remember.
He could still remember it clearly. The knife in his hands, fitting comfortably as he held it in his hand. It had a nice grip, and it was easy to use. Plus, it was easy to clean. He always wore a cloak, too, didn’t he? It fluttered around him when he moved, and it shielded him from the stray blood.
Don’t forget the people he killed. The bandits… the people in the laboratory… the people in Trost…
Eren clutched his hands into a fist.
Don’t forget them.
Of course… that made so much sense. Because he forgot—or tried to forget, he repeated everything over and over again. He never learned from his mistakes and tried to move on without truly ever moving on. Despite moving forwards in time, he was still there, on the day the bandits arrived, because he never truly learned. He understood now.
“So…” Eren swallowed, looking up at Levi hesitantly. “You do not hate me?”
Levi snorted. “Of course not,” he answered, shaking his head.
And for the first time… the first time ever , Eren saw the man smile. It wasn’t just a quirk to the lips or a smirk. It was a real smile . His lips had curved upwards, and his eyes suddenly turned warm as he gazed fondly at him. Or maybe that was just the lighting. Maybe it was the atmosphere… but it looked gentle.
It was nice, Eren found himself thinking.
“So… Titan, huh?”
Eren sighed tiredly. He knew that voice, and he didn’t want to hear it, especially after the meeting.
He drew his knees to his chest and looked at his feet, his arms encircled around his legs. Really, he wasn’t in the mood to talk. Especially Jean. It was a little uncomfortable. The stares weren’t very positive and almost every soldier looked at him as if he were a monster. They were right, of course. He is a monster. But that wasn’t the point.
Through his lashes, Eren looked at Jean. “Well?” He murmured quietly. “You hate me, right? It is my fault that Titans exist, after all.”
Because he was desperate for company, he selfishly gave Ymir his powers.
Which reminded him, he needed to talk to her. It just didn’t feel okay… that he was the perpetrator behind the reason why she was suffering. She was just as lonely and he was the direct cause of it. It didn’t sit well with him.
Even now, the thought made him want to cry.
He waited for a moment, refusing to look into Jean’s eyes. He didn’t want to see the hatred or disgust. If anything, he wanted to stay ignorant of the fact that they… h-hate him.
But then Jean did something he never expected.
Jean put his hand atop Eren’s hair, then… ruffled it.
“Huh?”
“Idiot,” said Jean fondly. “Anyone who heard that story could tell that you weren’t in the wrong. Sure, you’re basically the founder of Titans, and yeah, you’re a Titan yourself. But you didn’t know that, obviously , from the way you were talking. You’re just as a victim as we are. And… shit , this is embarrassing,” he looked away from Eren to hide his rapidly reddening face. “I’m only going to say this once, so listen closely, okay?”
Eren nodded, curious.
“Y-you aren’t alone. So d-don’t go doing anything stupid ‘cause we’re h-here for y-you.”
Jean let out a deep breath and turned completely away from Eren. But Eren hadn’t been paying any attention.
You aren’t alone.
You aren’t alone.
He isn’t alone.
How stupid. How utterly stupid… he knew that. Of course, he isn’t alone. He hasn’t been since he entered the walls. But… the words, as stuttering as Jean was, hit something deep in his heart.
Was it the words? Or was it something else? He wasn’t sure, but one thing he was certain; he felt lighter.
The weight he never noticed suddenly lifted from his shoulders and it became easier to breathe. He inhaled once, twice, then…
“I am not alone…” Eren echoed quietly.
Jean blushed. “Yeah. And w-the others care about you, so think about how we--they’d feel. ‘Kay, Eren--” he froze. “O-oi, oi, E-Eren,” he sweatdropped, “Don’t cry! I was wrong, ‘kay? For… whatever the reason it is. Just-- fuck ! What did I do?”
Eren shook his head as he tried to wipe away the tears. He wasn’t sure why he was crying, but he felt happy. Happier. Like something good was going to happen.
“N-not your fault,” Eren tried to say.
Of course .
He always assumed that he wasn’t alone. People were all around him, left and right. But hearing it from Jean, reassured him. It made him feel a mixture of emotions--happy, calm, and everything in between.
He wasn’t alone.
He wasn’t alone.
Not anymore.
When Eren wiped the last of his tears away, he turned to Jean, grinning softly. “Thank you,” he said genuinely. “Thank you.”
Jean sighed, but he was blushing ever so slightly. “D-don’t get used to it.”
“Why did you never tell me?” Eren asked.
Ymir didn’t look up from her sculpture, perfectly content with what she was doing now. She paused, her hands stopping for a minuscule moment, before resuming. She shrugged. “I thought you remembered. Can you blame me for that?”
“… no,” Eren murmured grudgingly. He continued, “ But, ” he emphasized on the word. “I told you that I didn’t remember anything. I lost all recollection—and you knew that.” He slowly lowered himself until he was sitting in front of the blonde. “That’s why you couldn’t make a perfect replica of the garden of paradise… right?”
After a moment of thinking, Ymir finally shook her head. “No,” she answered firmly.
“No?” Eren echoed.
“It’s true that I couldn’t see your memories. But that’s because you’re outside of my jurisdiction. You’re my progenitor, so to say. I don’t have any power over you, but since you and I were connected, I was able to see some, ” Ymir admitted. She paused, thinking again, then continued, “Your garden of paradise was vague at best. I made a perfect replica, given how fuzzy your desires were. You were just weirded out by how perfect it was.”
Eren was taken off-guard. He furrowed his brows and bit his lip in confusion.
His desire for a perfect world was vague—fuzzy. That, he could believe. But was what Ymir made really perfect? He didn’t understand.
Luckily, Ymir continued her explanation. “You see, your mind subconsciously understands that a perfect world does not exist. It can’t be real. So when you were met by it—you saw your desires turn into reality, but your mind knew better,” she narrowed her eyes. “It is human nature to understand that perfection is unrealistic—abnormal even, and when they experience it, it is natural for them to be wary.”
She laughed softly. The laughter sent shivers down Eren’s spine. “At the end of the day, no matter how devilish or demonic we get, our human nature will always remain, because we were born that way.”
“I—I don’t understand.”
Ymir let out a sigh. “What didn’t you understand?” She asked.
“Uh…” Eren swallowed nervously. “What is… perfection? Human nature? How do you know all this?”
There was a pause in Ymir’s body language. She froze, tensing in one moment, before slumping in the other. Her sculpture was crushed under the weight of her body, turning into a pile of… dirt. It was useless.
“I don’t know,” Ymir confessed, shaking her head. “But I do know one thing; perfection goes against human nature. It contradicts. Humans are naturally imperfect, flawed beings. It is natural for them to make mistakes, to be defective in some way. And for them to be faced with such perfection, a smooth surface, a life without hurdles… it’s not something we, as humans have. That’s why we exist.”
Eren let out a deprecating laugh that surprised him. He didn’t know he could let those kinds of sounds out. “We’re the most flawed humans,” he murmured. He glanced at Ymir. “How do I free you from this hell?”
Ymir paused for a moment, then stood up. She dusted the sand off of her worn dress and straightened. Slowly, she took a step forward, then another, before she stood right in front of Eren.
“Come,” she said, at the confused look on the brunet. “Follow me.”
Eren slowly followed, trekking right behind the blonde. He had a confused, borderline dazed look on his face, as he walked one step after another. His brown hair fluttered lightly in the nonexistent wind, and he found himself looking upwards more often than not, just to stare at the twinkling stars. He let out an appreciative sigh.
It was beautiful.
He wasn’t sure how much they walked; only that they were walking for a long time.
Eventually, Eren glanced at Ymir, a little concerned. “Hey—Ymir? Where are we going?”
Ymir abruptly stopped, surprising Eren. She turned around, gazing right into Eren’s green eyes. “Nowhere,” she curtly answered.
“W-what?” His voice rose an octave.
“An answer doesn’t exist,” Ymir responded. She glanced at the sky. “We made mistakes—you said it too. We’re the most flawed human beings. And we’re paying the price. This just so happens to be mine.”
No way… That can’t be…
“T—that can’t be right,” Eren stammered.
It can’t be—plus, can’t he do something? Isn’t he the progenitor? Isn’t he some sort of god—the devil who ‘bestowed’ Ymir with this power? Can’t he do something?
Was…
Was there truly nothing he could do?
“H-how can you be so sure?” Eren challenged. “I—I’m the one with the power, right? I can do something, there has to be something I can do!”
“There is nothing,” interjected Ymir firmly. She glanced at Eren, her eyes softening, as she spotted the brunet’s desperate expression. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I… I wasn’t sure how to tell you. I didn’t even expect that you would want to free me that badly.” She looked away awkwardly.
Eren took in a deep breath. He refused to believe it. There has to be a way—something that he can do. He has some mystical powers, doesn’t he? Can’t he find a way to free Ymir?
“I… I do,” he tried to reinforce. “I want to free you… I want to help you… because it’s my fault, isn’t it? The memories I saw back then… It was definitely my fault that you were here, alone, for so many years. It wasn’t fair of me.”
Ymir shook her head. “It is fair,” she protested quietly. She added, “As fair as it could be. You gave me this power and asked for a friend in return. I left, taking the power with me. And you punished me with what you had been suffering from. Isolation.”
“No!” Eren furiously shook his head. “I was being selfish—I am selfish. You didn’t need to stay with me. I didn’t even—” he paused, then shook his head again. “I…
“I don’t want others to suffer as I did,” he admitted quietly. His voice cracked at the end and his face scrunched together. He desperately tried to hold the tears in. It wasn’t the most opportune moment, after all. Ymir deserved to cry. He didn’t. It was too childish for him to burst out in tears.
Eren sniffed softly. He rubbed his nose, urging his tears to go away. “Ymir,” he began. “I’m stupid. I’m slow, and I don’t understand a lot of things. I’m naïve, I never learn my lessons, and I always repeat the same tragedies over and over again. You’re right. I am a very flawed human, and my mistakes caused everyone around me to suffer from the consequences.”
He wanted to be ignorant. He wanted to live his life in a perfect paradise, in bliss, without any problems. But that was just a desire. Just a childish wish that he refused to let go. In reality, he had to face the consequences.
Mikasa, Armin, the Little One—everyone suffered from his actions. Because he was selfish, because he never learned, everyone lived inside these walls, oppressed by Titans.
“I don’t have any rights to decide whether or not you deserve to be punished,” he said quietly.
It was his selfishness that made Ymir, in the first place.
Eren looked through his lashes, lips trembling as he tried to speak. “I’m uncertain all the time. I don’t even know what I’m doing. But if there’s one thing I know—one thing I know very confidently—it’s that I don’t want you to suffer.”
He never wanted anyone to suffer in the first place. He wanted a peaceful life.
A peaceful…
Oh.
The Little One was right. He always was. He was stuck in the past, stuck like a stubborn root, refusing to be uprooted.
And his garden of paradise proved that. Because he couldn’t move on, because he was stuck to his past, his garden of paradise was a life with his mother and father. A life that didn’t exist.
His mother was not happy, although she smiled whenever he appeared. His father was constantly angry, gone for the majority of the day, and no one ever had the confidence to ask why . They were both dead, killed under unfortunate circumstances. Their lives had ended, thousands of years ago, and it seemed, as if… he had never moved on.
The reality of his desires was different, he now knew. It took a while—a few thousand years, and another dead family—for him to realize that no. What he truly, truly , wanted, wasn’t a do-over with his seemingly perfect family. It was to live in the moment.
He wanted a peaceful life, where he enjoyed the fragility of the human being. He wanted to bask in the little joys, as he grew old, just like everyone else, with all of his friends.
Eren let out a poorly-stifled sob. He covered his mouth, gasping for a moment, then continued, “And—and if I’m sort of god… a devil, someone with power … then I want to free you. I want you to live a happy life with whatever you have left. Because… What's the point of having this power if I can’t help anyone? I’ve already made so many people suffer, and… I want to help you. Because...
“You’re free, Ymir.”
Epilogue:
“Eren,” Mikasa called out. “It’s time to leave.”
The gentle spring wind breezed past them. Trees rustled, flower petals floating in the air almost ethereally. The season was filled with color and it uplifted the spirits of many soldiers, who were destined to die, one way or another.
Armin cocked his head to the side. “Eren? ...”
At the center of the empty courtyard, was Eren. He stood, almost leisurely, in front of an apple tree. Whose blossoms swayed in the wind, spiraling down, right in front of the brunet’s boots.
For a moment, Armin wondered when there was even an apple tree at the headquarters. But the thought was quickly dismissed, as his focus went elsewhere.
He watched as Eren held his green Survey Corps coat in one hand, keeping it from blowing away. It was untied—he’ll have to remind Eren to clasp it on properly—and flew in the wind. His other hand was raised upwards, index finger out, as a beautiful bird stood, spreading its wings far out.
He was unsure what bird it was, but either way, he thought it was beautiful.
Eren stared at the bird with a wistful expression, hidden from his friends, as he watched as the bird began to take flight, flying far away. The figure turned into a minuscule speck, until it disappeared completely. He let himself crack open a smile.
“You’re free, Ymir,” he murmured.
He turned back, brown hair flying wildly in the air as he looked around, eyes stopping at the sight of Mikasa and Armin. Green eyes lit up and a grin slowly spread across his features.
“Eren!” Armin called out. “We have to go! Corporal Levi’s getting angrier!”
“The Little One?” Eren blurted out. He immediately put a hand over his mouth, paling ever so slightly when he caught sight of ‘the Little One’… who was taller than him.
Levi furrowed his brows, expression darkening, as he walked closer to the shorter brunet. “The… Little One?” He repeated slowly. “Care to repeat that for me?”
“... oops.”
The End.