"THE BOAT IS AT FULL CAPACITY, WE'RE LEAVING!" a soldier shouts, his hoarse voice struggling to rise above the chaos reigning at the entrance. People crowd desperately, pushing and shoving as they beg to get on board.
The three of us remain seated on the edge of the boat, surrounded by a sea of survivors. Some people clutch their heads, unable to process what they've witnessed; others cry silently, while a few scream as if that alone could drive the horror away.
Eren's gaze is vacant, completely unfocused on the horizon, as though his mind remains trapped amidst the ruins of what was once his home. Mikasa, sitting next to him, seems oblivious to everything. Her expression is hollow, almost as if she's given up.
Perhaps that's for the best in this situation.
My thoughts are abruptly interrupted by a piercing yell that cuts through the atmosphere.
"WE CAN'T WAIT ANY LONGER! CLOSE THE GATES!"
"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! THERE ARE STILL LOTS OF PEOPLE INSIDE!" another soldier shouts in desperation.
A different soldier, desperately trying to mask his own fear with logic, yells back, "IF THEY GET THROUGH THIS WALL, THIS WON'T JUST BE ABOUT ONE CITY BEING OVERRUN BY TITANS..."
A brief silence falls before he delivers the grim conclusion:
"HUMANITY'S TERRITORY WILL BE PUSHED BACK TO THE NEXT WALL."
Some try to reason, while others simply mutter curses under their breath. But we all know the truth: there's no point in watching this massacre any longer. Most simply lower their heads, trying to endure the shouts and insults.
I let out a resigned sigh and gently push Mikasa's head onto my lap. I begin stroking her hair in the most comforting way I can manage. Kei used to tell me this always relaxed her instantly. I hope it works for Mikasa too.
The orders continue echoing around us.
"CLOSE THE GATE!"
"HURRY UP!"
"TITANS ARE GETTING CLOSER!"
"INTERCEPT THEM!"
Without warning, a brutal tremor shakes the earth. A robust Titan, covered in a solid surface, breaks through the gate at full speed. Its posture resembles that of a professional sprinter.
The ground trembles with each of its strides as it effortlessly shatters the last defenses of the gate.
"They... broke through Wall Maria..." someone whispers with a broken voice.
"It's the end," another voice concludes.
Before the chaos fully unfolds, I fix my gaze on Mikasa. Her body trembles slightly, though her eyes remain vacant, lost in some distant corner of her mind. This is too much for someone like her.
Without hesitation, I press a point at the base of her neck. Her breathing becomes heavy for a brief moment before her body relaxes and goes limp in my arms. I rendered her unconscious as gently as possible.
The brief moment of calm shatters suddenly.
"WAIT FOR US, PLEASE!" a desperate man pleads from the dock, trying to climb onto the boat. "I HAVE CHILDREN, YOU CAN'T LEAVE US HERE!"
"MY CHILDREN ARE THERE!" a hysterical woman screams, her face soaked in tears, her hands clawing at the air as if trying to grab hold of an invisible salvation.
"PLEASE DON'T LEAVE US! GOD, DON'T ABANDON US!"
The roar of the engines fills the air, but it is drowned out by the cries and pleas that seem to multiply endlessly.
Some men, blinded by despair, leap into the freezing water, frantically trying to swim toward the boat that is now slowly moving away from the dock. Their arms thrash against the water as their voices break into heart-wrenching screams.
"COME BACK, PLEASE!"
"MY FAMILY IS HERE!"
On the deck, soldiers bark orders, their faces hardened by the necessity to survive.
"CUT THE ROPES! DON'T LET ANYONE CLIMB UP!"
The eyes of those left behind reflect something worse than fear: acceptance. The grim realization that their lives have come to an end.
This is what humans do in the face of absolute despair—accept it silently.
A mother clutches her baby tightly against her chest as silent tears stream down her face. An elderly man collapses to his knees, staring blankly at the people we leave behind.
For now, I simply lean against the wall of the boat beside Mikasa, trying to maintain at least the appearance of composure.
Suddenly, Eren stands up. His body trembles, his eyes red and filled with tears. Anger contorts his youthful face as he glares at the Titans entering through the shattered gate.
"I'm going to erase them..." he murmurs, his voice heavy with hatred.
He clenches his fists so tightly that his knuckles turn white.
"I'LL KILL THEM!" he roars with a voice torn by anguish.
"EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM!"
"THERE WON'T BE A SINGLE ONE LEFT!"
...
...
...
...
...
YEAR 850
"We have paid a terrible price for a hundred years of peace. We were completely unprepared for the sudden appearance of the Colossal Titan due to our level of alertness at that time... It is very likely that, as we speak, that Colossal Titan ...
...has already torn down the wall and is coming for us. When that moment comes, it will be our duty to assist the villagers, even if it means laying down our lives to confront the threat posed by the Titans."
"ARE YOU WILLING TO GIVE IT YOUR ALL?!"
"SIR, YES SIR!"
The voices echoed in unison, charged with determination.
The instructor stepped forward a few paces, his stern gaze scanning each of the cadets standing in formation. "Today, all of you have completed your military training. Now I will announce the ten cadets with the best results... STEP FORWARD!"
A murmur spread through the ranks as tension thickened in the air.
"First: Mikasa Ackerman."
Mikasa stepped forward with a firm stride, her expression impassive but slightly hidden behind her scarf.
"Second: Kiyotaka Ackerman."
I moved forward with disinterest, maintaining the indifference that had characterized me throughout the training. It was a complete lack of emotion yet somehow managed to capture attention and hearts alike. The reactions were predictable: some surprised, others envious. After all, I was two years younger than everyone else—a case without precedent. But what stood out the most was the few faces that seemed even happier than mine.
"Third: Reiner Braun."
"Fourth: Bertholdt Fubar."
"Fifth: Annie Leonhardt."
"Sixth: Eren Jaeger."
"Seventh: Jean Kirschtein!"
"Eighth: Marco Bodt."
"Ninth: Connie Springer."
"Tenth: Sasha Blouse."
The instructor closed the list with a firm shout. "THAT IS ALL!"
I guess it's finally over.
These years have been both pleasant and difficult, even for me. Not just physically but strategically as well. Getting accepted into the training corps, despite being younger than everyone else, was a battle in itself.
And while maintaining a low profile was my initial plan, I was forced to abandon that strategy. Instead, I chose to stay just one point below Mikasa in every evaluation, blending into her shadow. No one pays attention to second place when the first shines so brightly.
It was the perfect cover.
Because until now, there is one thing I need to figure out before making my move:
Who is the real enemy?