The victory in the neighboring territories was swift, brutal, and decisive. The Arachnid Titans, under the command of Eren and Futoria, tore through the remaining defenses of the outlying regions with a ferocity that left nothing standing. Strongholds fell, villages were overrun, and soon the surrounding lands were fully under Titus's control. The expansion had begun in earnest, and with it, the final steps toward Titus's vision of global domination.
But for all the power and progress being made, an undercurrent of unease ran through the enclave. The air was thick with suspicion, fear, and something else—something darker. Word of resistance had begun to spread, whispers of defiance from those who had managed to survive the initial onslaught. Small groups of rebels had begun to organize, determined to fight back against the overwhelming might of the Arachnid Titans and the oppressive rule of Titus.
In the shadowy corners of the city, these whispers grew louder, and with each passing day, the seeds of rebellion took root.
Eren was in the command center, reviewing the latest reports from the outlying territories, when one of the Arachnid Titan commanders approached him. The creature's spindly legs clicked on the stone floor as it knelt before him, its many eyes glowing faintly in the dim light of the room.
"My lord," the creature hissed, its voice like the scraping of metal on stone. "There are… rumors."
Eren frowned, setting the report aside. "What kind of rumors?"
The commander hesitated, as if unsure how to proceed. "There are those who survived the purge. They have begun to gather in secret. Small groups at first, but… growing."
Eren's brow furrowed. The idea of rebellion was laughable, considering the overwhelming power that Titus commanded. But still, the thought of resistance, however small, planted a seed of doubt in his mind. "Where are these groups?" he asked, his voice cold and sharp.
"Scattered," the commander replied. "In the ruins of the noble district, in the outskirts of the territories we've taken. They are few now, but they are… persistent."
Eren leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. He had known that there would be pockets of resistance—there always were, after a conquest of this scale. But he hadn't expected them to grow so quickly, or for the rumors to reach him so soon. "Keep an eye on them," he ordered. "Report back if they grow larger or bolder. They will not be allowed to disrupt our plans."
The commander bowed its grotesque head and slithered back into the shadows, leaving Eren alone with his thoughts.
Later that evening, Eren found himself pacing the halls of the citadel, his mind still consumed by the reports of the growing rebellion. The halls were silent, save for the distant sounds of the Arachnid Titans moving through the streets below. The night was still, but Eren could feel a tension in the air—a sense that something was shifting, something dangerous.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. He turned to see Futoria walking toward him, her expression unreadable.
"You heard about the rumors?" she asked, her voice quiet.
Eren nodded, his jaw tight. "Yes. It's nothing we can't handle."
Futoria stopped in front of him, her eyes searching his face. "Are you sure about that?"
Eren frowned. "What do you mean?"
She hesitated, glancing down the empty hallway before meeting his gaze again. "These aren't just random survivors hiding in the shadows. They're organized, Eren. They have a leader—a former general from the noble district. He survived the massacre, and he's been gathering people ever since."
Eren's eyes narrowed. "How do you know this?"
Futoria looked away, her expression troubled. "I've… seen them. During one of my patrols. They're not just survivors—they're fighters. And they're planning something."
The revelation hit Eren like a punch to the gut. A former general? Someone who had survived the massacre and was now leading a rebellion against Titus's rule? It seemed impossible, but Futoria's words carried a weight of truth that he couldn't ignore.
"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" he asked, his voice edged with frustration.
"I wasn't sure what to do," Futoria admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Part of me thought… maybe they're right."
Eren's blood ran cold. "What?"
Futoria looked up at him, her eyes filled with a pain he hadn't seen before. "Eren, look at what we've done. Look at what we've become. We've destroyed everything—wiped out entire cities, killed innocent people. All for what? Titus's vision of a new world? A world built on death and destruction?"
Eren's heart pounded in his chest. He had known Futoria had doubts—Titus had made that clear enough. But hearing her voice those doubts out loud, hearing the cracks in her resolve—it made his stomach churn with unease.
"We didn't have a choice," Eren said, though the words felt hollow even to his own ears. "We did what we had to do to survive."
Futoria shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "Maybe you believe that. But I don't know if I can anymore."
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of their conversation hanging heavy in the air. Eren could feel the distance between them growing, a chasm that had been widening ever since they had pledged their loyalty to Titus. And now, standing here in the empty hallway, it felt as if that chasm had finally become too wide to cross.
"I can't let you do this," Eren said quietly, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. "I can't let you turn against Titus."
Futoria's eyes flashed with defiance. "You're not going to stop me, Eren."
The words hung between them like a threat, the tension crackling in the air. Eren felt his heart break in that moment, the realization hitting him that he was losing her—losing the only person he had left in this world.
But before he could respond, the sound of distant alarms filled the air, a sharp, piercing noise that echoed through the citadel. Both Eren and Futoria snapped to attention, their eyes locking in shared understanding.
The rebellion had begun.
Without another word, they turned and sprinted down the hallway, their Titan forms rippling beneath their skin as they prepared for battle. The enclave was under attack, and the seeds of rebellion had finally taken root.
As Eren and Futoria raced through the streets, the city around them erupted into chaos. Explosions rocked the buildings, and the Arachnid Titans screeched in fury as they engaged the rebel forces. The rebels, though fewer in number, fought with a ferocity that surprised even Eren. They were well-organized, their attacks coordinated and precise. For every Arachnid Titan that fell, more rebels appeared, striking from the shadows.
Eren's Titan form towered over the battlefield as he tore through the rebel lines, his fists crushing anyone who stood in his way. But even as he fought, his mind was elsewhere—on Futoria, on the rebellion, on the seeds of doubt that had been planted in his own heart.
The battle raged on, and as the night wore on, Eren couldn't help but wonder: had the world already slipped from their grasp?