"Ahh... what? Wait…" Zen muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he looked up at the monstrous figure floating above him.
The Shinigami.
Its glowing red eyes bore into him, jagged teeth curled into a sinister grin. The thing was unnatural—tall, bony, its gray skin stretched over its skeletal frame. Large, ink-black wings twitched slightly, like it was amused by his reaction.
Zen's body screamed at him to run, to do something, but he was frozen in place. His heart hammered in his chest, and his mind raced.
"No, no, no… this isn't real. This can't be real."
His gaze dropped to the black book still clutched in his hands—the Death Note. His fingers trembled as he slowly flipped through its pages.
The rules were there. The same rules. The same instructions he had read in an anime that didn't—shouldn't—exist in real life.
"This… This is just like Death Note. But how? How is this happening?"
A cold breeze brushed past him, and for the first time, Zen noticed just how quiet it was. Too quiet.
He turned his head.
In the far distance, beyond the open fields, an enormous wall loomed over the landscape. Its towering structure stretched endlessly, blocking out the horizon.
His breath caught in his throat.
That wall.
He knew that wall.
His mind scrambled through fragmented memories, piecing together something impossible—until it hit him like a freight train.
"No way…"
The realization crashed into him all at once.
Gigantic walls.
This wasn't his world.
This was Attack on Titan.
Zen's breath came in ragged gasps as he stumbled backward, his legs barely supporting his weight. His eyes darted around wildly.
And then—a deep, guttural laugh.
The Shinigami floated lower, its grin widening as it tilted its head. "Oh? Finally figured it out?"
Zen whipped his head back toward it, his pulse hammering in his ears. "This… this is a joke, right? Some kind of sick prank?"
The creature snorted. "A joke? Oh, no. This is very, very real, Zen."
Zen's stomach churned. It knew his name.
"You… you're a Shinigami," he breathed, barely believing the words coming out of his own mouth. "And this…" He lifted the book, his fingers gripping it so tight they ached. "This is real?"
The Shinigami chuckled again, amused. "Of course it's real. You wouldn't be here if it wasn't."
Zen swallowed hard. "Then… where the hell is 'here' exactly?"
The creature's eyes gleamed. "That's for you to figure out."
Zen clenched his jaw. "Tch… cryptic bastard."
The Shinigami only laughed in response, the sound low and unsettling.
Zen's thoughts spiraled. If this was Attack on Titan, then that meant…
His blood ran cold.
He snapped his head toward the massive wall in the distance. The Wall Maria.
The opening scene of Attack on Titan burned in his memory.
The Colossal Titan.
Zen's breath hitched.
"Oh, fuck…"
He was at the very beginning of the anime.
And if his memory was correct…
The wall was about to fall.
Zen's hands shook as he stared at the towering wall in the distance.
His mind raced. If this was Attack on Titan, then the Colossal Titan was coming.
He had minutes—maybe hours before it appeared and doomed everyone inside.
His pulse pounded in his ears as he lowered his gaze to the book in his hands. The Death Note.
Could he… stop it?
A wild, desperate thought took hold of him. His fingers tightened around the book as he flipped open to the first blank page.
"If this is real…"
He reached for the pen tucked into the book's spine, his breathing uneven.
"If this really works…"
He swallowed hard and pressed the pen against the paper.
C… O… L… O… S… S… A… L… T… I… T… A… N…
He hesitated.
Would that even work? That thing wasn't human. But what about its human form?
His mind latched onto the name buried deep in his memory.
Bertolt Hoover.
Zen's hand trembled as he started to write the letters.
B… E…
A shadow moved beside him.
"Interesting," the Shinigami murmured.
Zen flinched, his pen hovering just above the page. He turned his head slowly, meeting those glowing red eyes.
The Shinigami was grinning.
"Go ahead," it said, voice smooth and amused. "Write the name. Kill him. Change everything."
Zen felt a cold pit form in his stomach.
"Change… everything?" he echoed.
The Shinigami's grin widened. "What happens when a key piece of the puzzle is removed?" It tilted its head. "What happens when the story you think you know no longer exists?"
Zen's breath caught in his throat.
His knowledge of Attack on Titan—every event, every battle, every chance of survival—was based on what he remembered from the anime.
If he killed Bertolt now…
Nothing would happen the way he expected.
The timeline would shatter.
Zen's grip on the pen tightened.
Would that be a good thing?
Would it stop the massacre? Save Eren's mother? Prevent the horrors of the future?
Or would he be left in a world where he knew nothing—where everything spiraled into chaos in ways he couldn't predict?
He exhaled shakily.
His fingers hovered over the paper for one more second.
Then—he snapped the book shut.
The Shinigami let out a low, rumbling chuckle. "Smart choice."
Zen swallowed, his throat dry.
For the first time, the weight of where he was—what was about to happen—truly sank in.
The Colossal Titan was still coming.
And now, he had to decide what to do next.