My gaze meets Eren's one last time. In his eyes, absolute mental destruction and terror battle against something more primitive, something more powerful. Determination. A fighting instinct that ignites at the edge of the abyss, a spark I cannot allow to be extinguished.
I can't stay here watching.
I propel myself toward the nearest branch, stopping for just an instant. From this height, I have a clear view of what remains of Levi's squad. Shattered bodies, blood soaking the earth, the fragility of life exposed mercilessly. The difference between the living and the dead is as thin as the edge of my blades.
1.47 seconds.
That is the exact time it takes for the Female Titan to harden her nape. A minuscule margin. A blink. The difference between success and failure.
She has become dependent on her hardening. She uses it as her last line of defense when cornered. She clings to it because she trusts that no one can reach her before the process completes. That makes her predictable. And a predictable enemy is an enemy that has already lost, even if they don't know it yet.
I hope Levi's squad has found a second life somewhere beyond this hell. Here, their time has run out.
But Levi... Levi cannot afford close bonds. Not yet. Not while his rage and hatred keep him moving. Those emotions are more useful than any hollow motivation. Losing his squad now means that the people I need will rise in rank. The renewal was necessary.
That is the nature of war.
And I merely move the pieces on the board.
There is no time for sentimentality.
I fire a yellow flare into the sky. A message. A warning. And, at the same time, a distraction.
I vanish from the Female Titan's sight. No, more precisely, Annie decides to ignore me. Her choice is clear: she would rather give me the chance to escape. Or at least, that's what she believes I am doing.
Giving an opportunity to the cadet who secured second place in the academy.
The one who barely managed to surpass Reiner in 3D maneuver gear handling.
The one who is part of the trio of idiots alongside Connie and Sasha, always on the sidelines of the protagonists of this war.
The specialist in one-on-one combat, socially awkward but academically outstanding.
The simple comrade—Ackerman Kiyotaka.
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHR!!!!!!!!!"
Eren's roar echoes through the forest, shaking the leaves and startling the birds still hidden among the treetops. His titanic body crashes forcefully onto the Female Titan, his fury reflected in every tense muscle, in every labored breath releasing steam.
With a devastating blow, he throws his fist with all his strength directly at her head. However, the Female Titan tilts her head to the side with surgical precision, dodging the impact by mere centimeters.
CRACK.
The sound of bones shattering reverberates as his fist smashes into the ground, completely pulverizing his hand, scattering fragments of charred flesh and bone into the air. But neither pain nor loss stops him. With his other arm, he swings another brutal punch.
BOOM!
The result is the same. His second fist shatters against the forest floor, leaving a crater in the earth. Yet, Eren does not retreat. He remains over the Female Titan, motionless for a moment as his hands begin to regenerate, his gaze burning with pure rage.
And then...
"OAAHHH!!!!!!!! GAAAAHHHH!!!!!!"
The entire forest is filled with his fury. Roar after roar, a symphony of hatred that reverberates through the trees, shaking even the ground beneath them.
Steam erupts from his body with increasing intensity, his muscles tighten further, his stance grows more aggressive. His eyes glow with a madness seen only in cornered beasts.
The Female Titan watches him without moving. There is no fear in her expression, but an evident tension in her posture. She is analyzing, assessing the situation, waiting for the exact moment to counterattack.
Eren's hands have fully regenerated when his rage turns into action. With an explosion of strength, he lunges at her.
The moment he moves, she does too.
With precision, she catches his arm in a firm grip, her muscles hardening with a crystalline sheen. Using his own strength against him, she twists her hips and flips him over, lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing.
And then—
A direct kick to his abdomen sends him hurtling at full speed into a colossal tree, shaking it to its roots.
The impact raises a cloud of dust and splinters, but Eren does not remain there for even a second.
Before the dust even settles, he is already back in front of her.
His fury knows no limits.
With a brutal hook aimed at her face, he attempts to smash her skull, but Annie, with impeccable reflexes, drops her body backward, evading the blow by mere millimeters.
But Eren does not stop.
Before she can react, his second punch is already on its way—a lateral strike with enough force to uproot a tree.
She dodges again, barely managing to gain distance.
But he is already there again.
One step.
Two steps.
The madness in his eyes shows no signs of subsiding.
Eren's fists continue to rain down relentlessly, each one accompanied by a deafening thunderclap that shakes the forest. Each punch tears through the air with such violence that it breaks the sound barrier, generating shockwaves that bend nearby trees.
But the Female Titan avoids them all.
With absolute precision, her body weaves through the attacks, dodging with the mastery of a seasoned warrior. However, something is evident: though her reflexes remain flawless, she is no longer in control.
Each evasion forces her to retreat.
One step.
Another.
Eren does not let up.
He is advancing.
Crushing her.
Pressuring her without pause until he corners her.
Finally, in a fleeting instant, she finds her opportunity.
Seizing a flaw in Eren's stance, she launches a swift, brutal punch, striking him directly in the jaw.
The sound of flesh and bone tearing fills the air as the lower half of his face is completely ripped off, sending a rain of blood and steam into the surroundings.
But Eren does not react.
He doesn't even waver.
As if losing his jaw meant nothing.
Before she can catch her breath, a colossal fist slams into her abdomen.
BOOM!
The blow lifts her off the ground like a mere training dummy, launching her violently through the air.
The entire forest trembles.
And Eren wastes no time.
With inhuman rage, he bends his legs and propels himself with monstrous force, chasing her through the air like a shadow of death.
SWOOSH!
He approaches at full speed, leading with his knee, aiming to bury it into her torso and end her in a single blow.
But at the last second, Annie rolls through the air, twisting her body with an agile movement, narrowly avoiding the impact by mere centimeters.
BOOM!
Eren lands like a projectile, shattering the ground beneath his feet and creating a shockwave of debris and dust.
For the first time in the entire battle, both Titans separate.
Time seems to slow as they stare at each other.
Their bodies regenerate slowly, steam rising from their open wounds.
They take their stances.
Eren slightly bends his legs, his fists clenched tightly, hatred burning in his eyes.
Annie adopts a firm stance, her breathing irregular, but her expression unshaken.
At this moment, they don't look like Titans.
They look like warriors ready for a final duel.
FUSHHHH!!!!!!!
The whistling wind cuts through the air.
An instant later, Eren's head splits in two.
His skull shatters like a ripe fruit, severed by an invisible kick.
The tree beside him also falls, cleanly cut by the same force.
Eren's headless body remains motionless for a moment, wavering as if his brain were still trying to process what had just happened.
And then, slowly, she approaches. Her steps are measured, her gaze locked onto Eren's nape.
She leans in and opens her mouth.
The muscles of her face crack and deform, widening her bite to rip out the prize she needs.
She crouches, moving closer to Eren's exposed nape.
Steam continues to rise from his destroyed neck.
The Female Titan's colossal teeth inch closer to Eren's nape.
A single moment, and it will all be over.
Steam keeps pouring from the torn flesh of the Attack Titan, surrounding Annie in a burning mist. Her jaw creaks as her face grotesquely distorts, expanding her bite to ensure there will be no mistakes.
This is the end.
Victory is hers.
But then— A chilling sensation runs down her spine.
A primal instinct kicks in.
And before she can move, before her mind can even process the danger—
A voice, cold and sharp like a razor, cuts through the air behind her.
"Being this useless, you'll never return home... Annie."
Her muscles tense reflexively. She tries to harden her nape as she turns, throwing a punch.
But it's too late.
SCHING!
Two silver flashes cut through the air.
The steel blades move with surgical precision, tracing a perfect arc around her neck.
Her flesh separates in a clean cut, and in a fraction of a second, her connection to her Titan is severed.
And before she can react—
A hand grips her firmly.
A cold, firm, relentless grip around her neck.
Her body, torn apart, without arms or legs, is ripped from her Titan like a bloodied rag.
Her vision blurs, and the last thing her head manages to process is more than a dozen people staring at her with the utmost hatred as I lift her by the neck.
...
...
...
...
--------------------------------------
The horse's gallop becomes reassuring, accompanied by the gentle caress of the wind.
All around us, most of the faces in the Survey Corps are filled with tears.
Some of pain and sorrow.
But most... of joy.
Humanity's first attack was a success.
By my side, keeping pace with me, Levi rides in silence. He doesn't seem to share the relief of the others. His eyes, dark and hard as steel, remain fixed on what's left of Petra. Her body, wrapped in bandages, has become unrecognizable. But for him, at least, it is something that keeps him afloat.
Beside him, a perfectly intact but unconscious Eren.
The wind howls between us. A minute passes. Then another.
Levi hasn't said a single word.
I break the silence.
"You must have understood this a long time ago, Captain... the path we follow, most who accompany us will die."
He doesn't look at me. "Hmph. You think so?"
"It's a fact. I see it in your expression. You are a soldier who has already understood that death will accompany us in everything we do—you accept it."
Levi remains silent. Only the sound of the horses' gallop accompanies us.
"However," I continue, "it seems you still carry the weight of every loss."
He tightens the reins. Finally, his voice comes, as sharp as ever.
"And you? Do you carry nothing?"
I watch him. His eyes are not those of a soldier, not even of a leader. They are the eyes of a man who has seen more than he should.
"Carrying the weight of the dead won't bring them back."
"It's not about bringing them back."
"Then what is it about?"
For the first time in the entire conversation, Levi looks directly at me. His gaze is cold, but there's something else in it.
"It's about remembering them."
A predictable answer.
"For what purpose?" I ask.
His jaw tightens.
"Because if I forget their deaths, if I stop feeling it, then their sacrifice will have truly been in vain."
I close my eyes for a moment.
"You don't need pain to give them meaning. The only way to honor the dead is to survive and win. There is no glory in sorrow, Captain."
"And without sorrow," Levi replies, "what makes you human?"
I remain silent.
It's the first time anyone has asked me that.
"Perhaps I'm not."
The conversation dies with the wind.
But something in Levi's expression tells me that, even though he has heard my words, he will never accept them.
And I, though I have heard his, will not change either.
"Captain..." I call him in a tone that must be strange to him—one I don't even recognize in my own voice. "Aren't you angry?"
Barely a shift in his posture. But I know he has heard me.
"Angry about what?" His tone is flat, neutral, but there's something in the way he says it... something dangerous.
"For what I did to your squad."
Now he does look at me.
"Explain."
There is no judgment in his voice. Only a cold expectation.
"I knew they were going to die. I also knew there was a chance to save them. But I chose not to."
The gallop of the horses and the wind are the only sounds between us.
"To improve the chances of the mission's success, even if only slightly."
Levi says nothing. But I see his grip on the reins tighten even more.
"If I had intervened, maybe they would have survived. Maybe not. But by choosing not to, I ensured that the plan went ahead without interruptions."
Silence.
"Their deaths were a conscious sacrifice... and perhaps a useless one."
Levi exhales through his nose. A nearly imperceptible sound.
"So that's how you see it."
He doesn't respond with anger. He doesn't shout or threaten.
But his tone... his tone is colder than before.
"Do you regret bringing me with you?"
"No." His response is immediate.
"Why?"
This time, he takes a moment before answering.
"Because we needed you."
Direct, without hesitation.
"Even if the cost was the life of your squad?"
"Yes."
Not the answer I expected.
"But that doesn't mean I don't want to break your face right now."
He says it with the same coldness with which he gives orders on the battlefield.
"I see... Will you?"
He watches me. For a moment, I think he actually might.
But then, he looks away and fixes his gaze on Petra again.
"No. Because if I did, it would mean I didn't understand what we're doing here."
The wind blows between us.
"So no, Kiyotaka. I'm not angry with you."
...
"It just reminds me of how much I hate this world."
Levi's words linger in the air. Cold. Definitive.
I glance at him from the corner of my eye. His expression is that of a man who has seen too much, who has lost too much. A man whose rage has been shaped by tragedy and whose only response to suffering is to move forward—because there is no other choice.
But he is wrong.
This world is cruel. That is undeniable.
I have seen it in every lifeless body we have left behind, in every scream drowned in blood, in every hope crushed under the weight of despair.
It is a world where life is worth nothing.
Where the strong are devoured if they show even a moment of weakness.
Where even the most prepared die without meaning, without even leaving a mark on history.
People live clinging to the illusion that there is justice, that there is meaning in death. There isn't. At least, not in the way they believe.
And yet...
Despite all its cruelty... this world is beautiful.
Because it still exists.
Because despite death, suffering, and hopelessness, it keeps turning. The sun keeps rising. The breeze keeps blowing.
Because even in the massacre, in the war, in the senseless violence, there are moments... small, insignificant to many... that make it worth moving forward.
The light of dawn reflecting on the edge of a blade.
The leaves swaying in the wind atop a tree.
The sound of a horse's gallop under a clear sky.
They are just fleeting moments. Insignificant on the scale of existence.
But they are there.
And I want to see them all.
I want to see the world's rawness, its violence, its indifference... but I also want to see every one of those hidden fragments of beauty within the tragedy.
Because if this world is truly cruel, then understanding it in its entirety... comprehending it in every one of its facets...