The following days were tense, marked by an unspoken tension that settled over the enclave like a heavy fog. Eren and Futoria, now fully immersed in their new roles, found themselves caught between duty and doubt. The Arachnid Titans, ever-present and growing in number, had transformed the once-vibrant city into a twisted hive of destruction. And while Eren thrived in his new position, Futoria couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched—not just by Titus, but by the Titans themselves.
It wasn't long before Titus's suspicions began to surface.
Late one night, as the fires of the forge crackled in the distance, Eren was summoned to Titus's private quarters. The room was dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of a single brazier in the corner. Titus sat behind a massive stone desk, his fingers steepled as he watched Eren approach. His eyes gleamed with something cold and calculating.
"Eren," Titus greeted, his voice smooth but carrying an undercurrent of menace. "You've been doing well. Very well, in fact."
Eren straightened, his chest swelling with pride. "Thank you, my lord. I live to serve."
Titus's smile was thin, almost predatory. "That is precisely what I wanted to discuss with you." He paused, his gaze boring into Eren's. "You have shown great loyalty to our cause, but I wonder… is everyone in our ranks as loyal as you?"
Eren frowned, unsure of where this conversation was going. "What do you mean?"
Titus stood, his towering figure casting a long shadow across the room. He moved to the window, looking out over the enclave, where the Arachnid Titans scurried in the streets below. "Loyalty is a fragile thing, Eren. It can waver, even in the best of us. And in times like these, when we are so close to achieving something great, we cannot afford any weakness."
Eren's pulse quickened. He had never heard Titus speak this way before—there was an edge to his words, a suspicion that made Eren's skin crawl. "If someone has betrayed you, my lord, I will find them," Eren vowed, his voice firm.
Titus turned to face him, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I expect nothing less. Which brings me to the matter at hand." He let the silence stretch, his gaze fixed on Eren's face. "Futoria."
Eren blinked, surprise flashing across his face. "Futoria?" he echoed, his mind racing. "What about her?"
Titus stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "She has been… hesitant, don't you think? I've noticed it in her actions, in her eyes. She's not fully committed. There's a crack in her resolve. And that, Eren, is dangerous."
Eren's heart sank, a wave of conflicting emotions crashing over him. He and Futoria had been through everything together—the fall of their commander, the massacre of the nobles, the rise of Titus's new order. And now, Titus was planting seeds of doubt in his mind. "She's loyal," Eren said, though the words felt hollow in his mouth. "She's done everything you've asked."
Titus raised an eyebrow. "Has she? Or has she simply done what was necessary to survive?" He leaned closer, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "Survival and loyalty are not the same thing, Eren."
Eren swallowed, unsure of what to say. He couldn't deny that Futoria had been different lately—quieter, more withdrawn. But could he really believe that she would betray Titus? Betray him?
"I need you to watch her," Titus continued, his voice smooth and commanding. "Keep an eye on her. Report back to me if you notice anything… unusual."
Eren hesitated, his mind torn between loyalty to Titus and his bond with Futoria. "Of course, my lord," he said finally, bowing his head. "I'll do as you ask."
"Good," Titus said, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "Remember, Eren—this is not just about power. This is about building a new world. And in that world, there can be no room for weakness."
Eren left Titus's quarters feeling more conflicted than ever. The weight of his new task pressed down on him, a burden he hadn't anticipated. He had always trusted Futoria—she had been his partner, his ally. But now, Titus had planted the seed of doubt, and Eren couldn't ignore it.
Futoria was in the training grounds when Eren found her the next morning, overseeing the Arachnid Titans as they prepared for battle. She moved with quiet efficiency, issuing commands to the monstrous creatures with a calm authority. But there was something different about her—something Eren couldn't quite place. Was it hesitation? Guilt? Or was Titus simply manipulating him?
"Futoria," he called out as he approached, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him.
She turned, her expression softening when she saw him. "Eren," she greeted, though her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Everything alright?"
Eren studied her for a moment, unsure of how to respond. The weight of Titus's words hung heavy in the air between them. "Titus wants us to increase the strength of the Arachnid forces," he said, deflecting. "He's preparing for something big."
Futoria nodded, her gaze drifting back to the Titans behind her. "I figured as much. He's always planning something."
Eren took a step closer, lowering his voice. "You've been quiet lately. Distant."
Futoria glanced at him, her brow furrowing. "It's a lot to take in, Eren. Everything we've done, everything we're going to do—it's overwhelming sometimes."
He hesitated, unsure of how far to push. "You're still with me, right? With us?"
Futoria's eyes flickered with something Eren couldn't quite read. "Of course I am," she said softly. "But sometimes I wonder… at what cost?"
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, Eren's heart raced with fear. Titus had been right—there was doubt in her. She wasn't fully committed. But what was he supposed to do? Could he really betray her trust and report her to Titus?
Before he could say anything more, one of the Arachnid Titans let out a shriek, signaling the end of the training session. Futoria turned back to her duties, her expression once again unreadable.
Eren watched her for a long moment, his mind swirling with confusion and doubt. He had always trusted Futoria—always believed that they were in this together. But now, with Titus's warning echoing in his ears, he wasn't sure of anything anymore.
Later that night, Eren found himself standing outside Titus's chambers once again. The decision weighed heavily on him, but he knew what needed to be done. If Futoria was hesitating—if she wasn't fully committed to their cause—Titus would find out eventually. And if Eren didn't report it, his own loyalty would be called into question.
When Titus opened the door, his smile was cold and calculating. "Eren," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "Do you have something to report?"
Eren took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "Futoria," he said quietly. "She's… she's been different lately. Distant. I think she might be having doubts."
Titus's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good," he murmured. "Very good."