Chapter XIII: Reckoning

Chapter XIII: Reckoning

Anja stared at Connie's lifeless form, his body partially shrouded by a blood-soaked sheet. Beside him, Sasha wept, her sobs echoing in the dusty air, tears cutting through the grime on her cheeks. The distant sounds of battle provided an ominous backdrop, mingling with the coppery scent of blood and acrid smoke.

Anja's mind reeled, struggling to process the nightmare unfolding around her. Was this real? Or just a cruel trick of her exhausted psyche? Time had lost all meaning in this hell, minutes stretching into hours, hours into what felt like days.

Annie stood frozen nearby, her usually stoic mask cracked, icy blue eyes wide with shock. Anja reached out, placing a trembling hand on Sasha's shaking shoulder, a feeble attempt at comfort.

"...Why?" Sasha's broken whisper cut through the haze. "You should never have died... None of you..."

Sasha's gaze snapped to Mina across the room, grief transmuting into rage. She surged to her feet, stalking towards the smaller girl.

"You!" Sasha snarled, voice cracking. "You killed him!"

Mina paled, shrinking back as Sasha grabbed her shirt, hauling her up with surprising strength.

"I-I didn't mean to--" Mina's brittle protest was cut off as Sasha shook her violently.

"Why did you shoot?!" Sasha screamed, punctuating each word with a brutal shake. "Answer me!"

Her fist connected with Mina's face, sending the girl crumpling to the ground.

"I was scared!" Mina sobbed, blood trickling from her nose. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry--"

Sasha drew back her arm for another blow, but Jean lunged forward, wrapping his arms around her and dragging her back. "Stop, Sasha! This won't change anything!"

Sasha thrashed against his grip, kicking and clawing. "Let go!"

Marco stepped between them, hands raised placatingly. "Enough. Please." Exhaustion and sorrow carved deep lines into his face. "No one is to blame."

The other survivors gathered around, drawn by the commotion. Some reached out to comfort Sasha, others simply stood in grim, shocked silence.

"I know this is hard," Marco continued, voice strained. "We're all hurt, tired, grieving. But we can't turn on each other. Our friends gave their lives to get us this far. We can't let that be for nothing."

Sasha slumped in Jean's arms, rage giving way to despair. She sank to the floor, frame wracked with silent sobs.

A distant rumble shook the building, dust sifting from the ceiling. Anja's heart lurched. Eren. In the chaos, she'd almost forgotten he was still out there, fighting for his life.

"This place won't last much longer," Jean said grimly. "We need to move. Now."

Marco nodded, jaw set with determination. "Check your gear, make sure you have gas. We'll head for the wall."

The cadets moved to obey, hands shaking as they checked canisters and secured blades. Anja glimpsed Mikasa and Armin already heading up the stairs, faces drawn and pale in the dim light.

As the others filed out, Anja found her gaze drawn back to Connie's body. Sasha knelt beside him, gently touching his still face, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Finally, she stood, grief and resolve etched into her features.

"He wouldn't want us to die here," she said softly, voice thick. With one last lingering look, she turned towards the stairs.

To Anja's surprise, Annie had stayed behind, her intense gaze making Anja's skin prickle. "Are you alright?" the blonde asked quietly.

Anja nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She was far from alright, but there was no time for that now. They had to keep moving, keep fighting.

Annie's eyes narrowed, seeing through the lie. "Back there, with the Titan... are you sure you're--"

"I don't know," Anja cut her off, sharper than intended. She softened. "Nothing feels fine..."

Annie looked like she wanted to say more, but another tremor rocked the building, spurring them into motion. They raced up the stairs, the sounds of battle growing louder with each step.

As they reached the upper floor, Anja froze. Through a shattered window, she saw Eren, surrounded by a horde of other Titans. Steam rose from countless wounds on his body, his movements sluggish, labored. But still, he fought, roaring defiance.

Annie caught her arm. "Wait, Anja—"

"I know what you probably think, but—"

"I believe you..."

Anja blinked, stunned. Had she heard right?

"You asked me before..." Annie said. "That's my answer. There's something different about that Titan. But think about this. What happens if we do help him? What then?"

Anja hesitated. "Honestly... I haven't thought that far. We have to regroup at the wall, the battle's not over. Maybe he could help us win the damn thing."

Annie tightened her grip. "What do you think the others will see when we bring him there? They'll only see an enemy--"

"No, he's on our side, one of us. They'll see reason--"

"Fear trumps reason... Many have lost homes, loved ones to the Titans. When they see him, they'll only see a monster. Who knows what they'll do."

Anja faltered. Annie wouldn't meet her eyes. "I say we take him out of the city. That way he'll be safe."

Anja struggled with Annie's words. She couldn't see Eren as a monster, refused to. She only saw her friend, the boy who swore to kill the Titans, who she knew in her soul would honor that vow. But Annie had a point, a painful truth Anja couldn't deny. Perhaps for her own sake.

Others might only ever see a monster. But to Anja, Eren represented hope. Hope she didn't deserve, but if she could do one act to atone for all her failures, it would be saving him. Giving humanity the hope it desperately needed.

"Watch out!" Annie shoved Anja aside as a Titan crashed into the building.

As the dust settled, they saw Eren again, pinned to the wall as other Titans... ate him. How was that possible?

She had to act.

"No, wait!" Annie cried, but Anja was already moving.

"Get away from him!" She screamed, launching herself out the window, diving into the fray.

Her screams went unheeded, the Titans hypnotized by their feast. She managed to cut down a small one gnawing at Eren's elbow, blood spraying her face as she clung to the wall, screaming.

"Fight!" Eren's eyes remained glazed, staring blankly ahead. "You have to!"

"Anja, get out of there!"

Anja turned towards the voice and froze. A massive hand grasped for her, too big, too fast--

An explosive thud shook the air. The hand missed Anja by inches, crashing into the wall beside her.

At the last second, Eren surged up, jaws clamping around the Titan's arm with a sickening crunch. He wrenched his head, tearing the limb free in a spray of steaming blood. The Titan reeled back, roaring in agony.

Eren, now armless, with a gaping hole in his chest, fought on. He hurled the blond Titan around like a ragdoll, ripping its head from its shoulders, gnawing through its nape. Its massive body toppled back with a ground-shaking thud.

With a final earth-shaking roar, Eren dropped to his knees, steam rising from his wounds.

Anja's heart stopped. He wasn't regenerating.

The Titan fell still. A scream built in Anja's throat.

Then, miraculously, a familiar figure burst from the Titan's nape, steaming and blood-soaked but unmistakably human.

…Eren!

...

Eren lay unresponsive but alive, his breath shallow, skin burning to the touch. They'd cut him from the Titan's flesh, the melding leaving raw, angry burns across his skin.

They'd brought him to the safety of the headquarters' rooftop.

Jean looked out over the steaming battlefield, littered with Titan corpses. "So he did all that..."

Armin stared transfixed at Eren's hand, holding it up in disbelief.

"I saw him... get eaten..." he said softly.

Mikasa hadn't left Eren's side, eyes gleaming with fresh tears of joy.

"He's here now. That's what matters. We need to get him to a doctor, make sure he's okay."

"He looks fine to me," Reiner said slowly. "We could watch him here while you get help. Might not be safe bringing him inside the walls just yet."

Anja shook her head. "It's too dangerous out here. We can't be sure he's alright. Who knows what toll it took on him. We need to make sure."

Jean paled. "Are you insane? We can't just walk in there with him like this! What'll happen when people see what he is?"

"I don't care," Mikasa snapped, eyes flashing.

"She's right," Armin said, voice shaky but determined. "We can't leave him. The Armored could appear any moment. And Anja's hurt..."

Armin took a breath. "I don't know how, but... whatever's happening to him, we need to understand it. We all saw what he can do..."

Reiner considered this. "I see your point. Maybe we still have a shot at retaking the city, if he can help. What do you suggest?"

"We take him back. Explain what happened. Hopefully, Eren can clear up any doubts when he wakes."

Anja frowned. "But what if they do something to him?"

"They won't, he will help. We've all witnessed it," Armin said. "He didn't attack us. He saved you, saved Mikasa."

Reiner nodded reassuringly to Anja. "Don't worry. We won't let anyone hurt him."

Annie stepped forward. "I'll stay with Anja," she said firmly. "You get Eren to the wall. We'll catch up soon as we can."

Reiner considered this, then nodded. "Alright. For now, we keep what we saw to ourselves. No need to add to the panic."

They all agreed, preparing to move out. They took one last look at the ruins behind them. Annie paused, gazing out at Trost, the city still besieged, Titans roaming the streets, fires lighting the horizon, houses torn asunder.

"All this death..." she murmured.

Anja placed a hand on her shoulder. "It won't be for nothing. Come on."

Annie gave her a weak smile, a shadow passing over her features, she just nodded, and they set off.

...

As they reached the top of the wall, the scene that greeted Anja and Annie was one of pure chaos and despair. Everywhere they looked, wounded soldiers lay sprawled around, their agonized cries filling the air. Others just stood there in shock, their faces grim and hands stained with blood.

In the distance, the sounds of battle still raged, punctuated by the occasional boom of cannon fire. Titans roamed the streets of Trost below, their massive forms casting long shadows in the fading light. The soldiers manning the walls watched the horizon with tense, weary faces, waiting for the dreaded appearance of the Armored Titan.

Anja felt a surge of guilt as they passed through the throngs of wounded and dying, realizing that their desperate battle was just one of many, largely unnoticed amidst the greater tragedy unfolding around them. The refugees remained huddled in small groups, their faces etched with grief and fear, children clinging to their parents as they wept.

It all felt too familiar to her, the echoes of Shiganshina resonating in her mind. She fought hard to keep the memories at bay, blinking back the sudden sting of tears.

Annie led them through the chaos, her face set in grim determination. They passed Ymir and Christa, the latter looking pale and stricken as she tended to a soldier with a missing arm. Ymir glanced up as they approached, her eyes widening as she took in Anja's bloodied, battered form.

"What the hell happened to you?" Ymir demanded her usually sardonic tone laced with genuine concern.

Anja just shook her head, too exhausted to reply.

"Anja… Are you okay?" Christa asked, her gentle voice thick with worry.

Anja tried to muster a reassuring smile, though it felt more like a grimace. "I'll be fine. I know it looks bad, but I've had worse."

Christa didn't look convinced, but she nodded. "There's a medical tent set up just down there," she said, pointing towards a cluster of billowing white canvas near the wall's edge. "I'd check you over myself, but I've got my hands full here. I'm sure someone there can help."

"Thank you," Anja said sincerely.

As they made their way towards the medical tent, Anja overheard snatches of conversation from a group of nearby Garrison soldiers.

"Damn it, whenever you need the Scouts, they're nowhere to be found." One of them grumbled, his face twisted in a scowl.

"Maybe they all got eaten already," another said with a dark chuckle. "Crazy bastards."

"The Scouts?" Anja asked, confused. "Weren't they here?"

"They left this morning," Annie replied, her voice low and tense. "You were still sleeping."

Anja felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. "Just our luck," she muttered. "Maybe we'd still be holding the Titans back if they were here."

Annie shook her head, her expression grim. "Maybe. It was just an unlucky coincidence…"

As they approached the medical tent, the stench of blood and decay grew stronger, mingling with the sharp scent of antiseptic. Anja's stomach churned, her head swimming with sudden nausea.

Before they entered, Annie pulled her aside, her grip on Anja's arm almost painfully tight.

"Listen to me," she said, her voice low and intense. "Before we go in there, promise me you won't say anything about what happened. Not to anyone."

Anja frowned, confusion swirling in her exhausted mind. "I thought we agreed not to mention Eren—"

"Not Eren," Annie cut her off, her icy blue eyes flashing. "You."

Anja stared at her, uncomprehending. "What do you mean? Why can't I—"

"Think about it, Anja," Annie hissed, her fingers digging into Anja's skin. "I saw you die. And now, suddenly, you're back? Walking around like nothing happened? If you start babbling about that, they're going to have questions. Questions we can't answer."

Anja swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. Annie was right. Her miraculous return was just as inexplicable as Eren's Titan abilities, just as likely to draw unwanted attention and suspicion.

"Okay," she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. "I won't say anything. I promise."

Annie searched her face for a long moment, then nodded, releasing her arm. "Good. Now let's get you patched up."

They ducked into the tent, the canvas flap falling shut behind them. Inside, the air was close and heavy, thick with the metallic tang of blood and the moans of the wounded. Cots lined the walls, each one occupied by a soldier in various states of injury. Medics moved between them, their faces drawn and haggard, their hands steady as they stitched and bandaged and tried to stem the relentless tide of blood.

Anja's gaze caught on a familiar figure moving towards them— the same doctor who had treated her wounds before. His face was haggard, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion, but he managed a weary smile as he recognized them.

"It's good to see you again, Doctor...?"

"Weiss. I didn't expect to see you again so soon." He shook his head, taking in the bloody hole in the back of Anja's shirt, the makeshift bandages wrapped around her hands. "Looks like you've been through hell. Come on, let's take a look at you."

He led her over to an empty cot, gesturing for her to sit. Anja complied, wincing as the movement pulled at her many cuts and bruises. The doctor carefully peeled away the blood-soaked fabric of her shirt, revealing the raw, puckered flesh beneath. Anja gritted her teeth against the pain, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

She hissed as he probed the wound with gentle fingers, cleaning away the blood and grime with a damp cloth. "You're lucky you didn't bleed out," he said as he worked. "Whoever sealed that wound saved your life, you wouldn't be sitting here now, if it wasn't for that."

She tensed, Annie noticeably too. But she limited her response to a nod, gritting her teeth against the sting of the antiseptic.

As Dr. Weiss began to stitch various gashes in her hands, Anja's gaze drifted to Annie, who stood nearby with her arms crossed over her chest, her face unreadable. But there was a tension in her posture, a tightness around her eyes that betrayed her concern.

Suddenly, Annie stiffened, her gaze snapping to something over Anja's shoulder. Anja turned to look, ignoring the pull of the stitches, and saw Bertholdt hovering at the edge of the tent, his tall form hunched and uncertain.

Annie muttered something under her breath, too low for Anja to catch. Then she touched Anja's arm, her fingers cool against Anja's feverish skin.

"I'll be right back," she said, her voice flat. "Don't go anywhere."

With that, she turned and strode over to Bertholdt, leaving Anja alone with the doctor.

Weiss shook his head as he tied off the last stitch, snipping the excess thread with a pair of small silver scissors. "You've got some good friends," he said, nodding in Annie's direction. "That one came to visit you before, I recall. Didn't speak much."

Anja glanced over at Annie and Bertholdt, trying to read their body language, to glean some hint of what they were discussing. But they were too far away, their voices too low to make out over the ambient noise of the tent, she saw them leave.

"Yeah, she usually doesn't…" she said softly, feeling a sudden, inexplicable pang in her chest. "I'm lucky to have them."

Weiss hummed in agreement, reaching for a roll of clean bandages. As he began to wind them around Anja's torso, his gaze fell on the pendant resting against her sternum, glinting dully in the lantern light.

He froze, his hands stilling mid-motion. "Where did you get that?" he asked, his voice suddenly sharp.

Anja blinked, taken aback by the intensity of his stare. Her fingers closed around the pendant automatically, feeling the familiar grooves and ridges of the metal.

"It was my brother's," she said slowly, unsure why he was asking. "He gave it to me before he... before he died."

Weiss's face softened, something like sympathy flickering in his eyes. He opened his mouth to reply—

BOOM!

Cannon fire. Close. Too close.

It shook the very ground beneath their feet. Anja was moving before she even realized what she was doing, snatching up her ODM gear and buttoning her shirt, lurching towards the tent flap. She heard Dr. Weiss shout after her, but she couldn't stop.

Outside she saw a plume of steam rose into the sky like a beacon, marking the spot where the cannon had struck, she heard the screams and shouts of panic and confusion.

Anja launched herself into the air, her cables finding purchase on the nearest building. She pushed on, ignoring the white-hot agony lancing through her body with every movement, luckily she didn't have to go far.

As she landed on a rooftop overlooking the scene, her breath caught in her throat, her heart stuttering to a stop.

Eren, Mikasa, and Armin were surrounded by Garrison troops, their faces pale and strained in the harsh light. The soldiers had their guns trained on them, their fingers twitching on the triggers.

And there, rising behind them was a Titan. Or rather, the skeletal remains of one, still smoking from the blast of the cannon. Its bony hand was outstretched as if to shield the three cadets from the soldiers' wrath.

Anja's mind raced, piecing together the scene before her. Eren must have transformed, using his Titan form to protect his friends. But something had gone wrong, the transformation incomplete. And now the soldiers saw him as a threat, a monster to be put down.

Armin stepped forward, placing himself between Eren and the barrels of a dozen guns. His voice rang out over the clamor, high and desperate.

"As a soldier, I have dedicated my heart to the restoration of humanity!" he cried, his fist slamming against his chest in a fierce salute. "Nothing could make me prouder than dying for such a noble cause!"

Anja's heart clenched at the raw conviction in his voice, the way his small frame seemed to swell with the force of his belief.

"If we were to use his Titan ability and combine it with the manpower we have left, I believe we can retake this city!" Armin continued, his voice rising over the murmurs of the crowd. "For humanity's glory, in what little time I have left to live, I will advocate his strategic value!"

A few of the soldiers wavered, their guns dipping slightly. But others only tightened their grips, their faces twisted with fear.

"Quiet!" one of the officers snarled, his voice cracking with strain.

A flicker of movement caught Anja's eye and she turned to see Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner crouched on a nearby rooftop, watching the scene with intent, unreadable expressions. For a moment, Annie's gaze met hers, something urgent and pleading in her icy blue eyes.

Before Anja could begin to decipher the meaning behind that look, a new voice cut through the tumult, strong and commanding.

"That's enough! Stand down, all of you!"

Anja turned to see a tall, bald man striding towards the circle of soldiers, his face set in stern lines. He wore the uniform of the Garrison, the emblem of the roses bold on his breast. A red band crossed across his chest.

Commander Pyxis.

As he approached, the soldiers lowered their rifles, their faces uncertain. Pyxis swept his gaze over the scene, taking in Eren's battered form, the steam that still lingered in the air, Armin's face set with determination.

"Can't you all see this soldier's heartfelt salute?" he said at last, his deep voice carrying in the sudden silence, "I think we can at least do these young soldiers the favor of hearing them out."

...

Anja crept along the top of the wall, her heart pounding in her ears as she strained to catch any hint of Pyxis' conversation with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, the truth was she couldn't even get close. An hour had passed since the Commander had led them away, and with each passing minute, the knot of dread in Anja's stomach tightened.

What if they decided Eren was too dangerous, too unpredictable? What if they chose to eliminate the threat he posed, rather than risk the chance that he might lose control again? Annie's warning echoed in her mind, a relentless drumbeat of fear and doubt.

But they hadn't killed him on the spot. That had to count for something.

Anja was so focused on her racing thoughts that she almost didn't hear the voices drifting up from below. She froze, edging closer to the wall's inner edge, careful to keep out of sight.

"...all went to hell in a handbasket." Jean's voice, strained and weary.

"I'm guessing that's where... shit. And Eren? You said he was eaten?" Ymir, her usual sarcasm replaced by complete seriousness, a grave hint to her tone.

"I didn't see it myself. Armin and Mina did."

"Eren was chasing after a Titan that ate Thomas," Mina said, her voice small and brittle. "We ran into other Titans. They caught us. It all happened so quick..."

"How did you even make it out?" Ymir asked.

There was a long, heavy pause. Then, Mina spoke again, her words halting and thick with tears.

"I thought I was going to die. I saw-- I saw--" She broke off, taking a shuddering breath. "It was Anja. She killed the Titan, but she... she was like a demon. She didn't even notice me, just went straight above. There was another Titan, I think… Nac was there too..."

Anja felt like she'd been punched in the gut. The memories came flooding back in a dizzying rush - the red haze of rage, the savage joy of rending flesh, the taste of blood on her tongue. And Nac, his face forever seared in her memory, frozen in agony and terror...

"I only remember hearing Nac's screams," Mina continued, her voice distant and haunted. "I couldn't move… I was lucky Marco came to help."

"Next thing I know, they were dragging her to us. She was covered in blood. Human blood. She was wounded, bleeding."

Anja couldn't breathe. The world was spinning around her, the ground tilting beneath her feet. She wanted to scream, to deny it, to beg for forgiveness. But the words wouldn't come.

"That's right," Jean said heavily. "She died. Wolf."

"What do you mean she died? I saw her like an hour ago," Ymir demanded.

"Well, we thought she was dead… Next thing we know, she shows up at headquarters. Someone almost blew her head off."

Anja remembered that moment with crystalline clarity. The shock on her friends' faces, the rifle barrel pointed between her eyes. The dawning realization that she had come back from the brink of death.

"All she did was sputter some nonsense about Eren being a Titan," Jean continued. "Turns out, she was right."

"I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around it all," Marco admitted.

"There's not much to think about." Mina's voice was cold, hard. "She's a murderer."

The words hit Anja like a physical blow. She staggered back from the edge, her vision blurring with tears. She couldn't listen anymore, couldn't bear to hear the fear and revulsion in her friends' voices.

She stumbled away, blindly seeking some corner, some quiet place where she could fall apart in peace. Her mind was a whirlwind of guilt and self-loathing, Mina's accusation ringing in her ears.

Murderer. Demon.

Anja didn't know how long she wandered, lost in the maze of her anguish. There wasn't a single spot that wasn't occupied. She found herself amongst a sea of defeated faces. One more wouldn't matter. She sank to the ground, drawing her knees to her chest, and let the tears come.

She cried for Nac, for the brutal, senseless way she'd torn him apart. For Annie, who she'd nearly killed in her blind, bestial rage. For her friends, who would never look at her the same way again.

Most of all, she cried for herself - for the dark, twisted thing she'd become, the monster that lurked beneath her skin, waiting to be unleashed.

Anja was so lost in her misery that she didn't even notice Sasha's approach until the other girl was right beside her. She looked up, hastily wiping at her tear-stained face, expecting to see the same fear and loathing she'd heard in Mina's voice.

But Sasha's expression was unreadable, her dark eyes shadowed and distant. She had a whetstone in one hand, a blade in the other, and she was methodically running the stone along the sword's edge with a rhythmic scrape of metal on stone.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Sasha just kept sharpening her blade, her gaze fixed on some far horizon. Anja recognized the look on Sasha's face, the hollow emptiness behind her eyes.

Finally, Anja broke the silence, her voice still rough from crying.

"Those are already sharp," she pointed out, nodding to the blade in Sasha's hand.

Sasha shrugged, not looking up. "When are we going to fight again?" she asked abruptly.

There was no humor in her voice, no trace of her usual bubbly enthusiasm. Just a flat, dead tone that made Anja's heart ache.

Anja blinked, taken aback. "Everyone's waiting on the Commander," she said uncertainly.

Sasha grunted, setting aside her whetstone and examining the edge of her blade with a critical eye. Seemingly satisfied, she stood, sheathing the sword with a sharp, decisive motion.

Just then, a commotion drew their attention. Anja recognized one of the soldiers causing it - Daz, the cadet who had always been a little too eager, a little too quick to panic.

He was squirming, his face pale and slick with sweat. "I can't do this!" he wailed, his voice cracking with hysteria. "I didn't sign up to die like this!"

"Stop shrieking, you coward!" An officer shouted, his face red with anger as he berated the soldier. "You think you're too good to sacrifice yourself for the good of humanity?" The officer drew his sword. "Would you prefer I cut you down as an example to your comrades?!"

Daz reached for his sword with trembling hands. "Do what you have to! I'll take that over being fed to a Titan!"

Before Anja could react, Sasha was moving. She crossed the distance between them in a few long strides, her fist snapping out to connect with Daz's chin with a sickening crunch. The boy crumpled, blood spraying from his mouth as he hit the ground.

Sasha stood over him, her face a mask of cold fury. "Get ahold of yourself," she snarled, her voice low and deadly.

Daz whimpered, shrinking back from the icy rage in Sasha's eyes. Anja watched, stunned by the transformation in her friend.

"I'm not going back to that nightmare!" Daz screamed, scrambling backwards, leaving a trail of blood from his split lip.

Sasha just watched him go, her lip curling in disgust. Around them, Anja could hear the other soldiers murmuring, their voices rising in a tide of fear and desperation.

"I don't want to die…"

"We're all going to be slaughtered."

Some were already pushing away from the wall, ignoring the threats and curses of their officers.

"ATTENTION!"

The bellow cut through the rising panic like a knife, silencing the crowd in an instant. Anja's head snapped around to see Commander Pyxis standing atop the wall, his bald head gleaming in the harsh sunlight.

"Soldiers, soon we will begin the Trost Recovery Operation!" he shouted, his deep voice carrying across the wall. "Our primary objective will be to reseal the breach!"

He began to pace along the wall's edge, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Yes, you heard right. And it will be done manually!"

A murmur of disbelief rippled through the assembled soldiers.

"Impossible…"

"Maybe some of you have heard the rumors by now," Pyxis continued, his voice rising over the whispers. "That one of our own has the ability to transform into a Titan. I'm here to tell you that those rumors are true."

Eren stepped forward to stand beside the Commander, his fist slamming against his chest in a fierce salute. Pyxis gestured to him, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Allow me to introduce Cadet Eren Jaeger. Don't let appearances deceive you. This young man is the product of our most advanced science."

The crowd erupted into a roar of shock and confusion.

"The Commander has officially gone off his rocker," someone muttered nearby.

"Cadet Jaeger will lift a boulder we've located near the hole and plug it in. Your mission will be to defend him." He swept his gaze across the sea of upturned faces, his eyes glinting beneath his bushy brows.

"Anyone wishing to leave can do so freely. You will not be charged with treason! Those who have seen a Titan firsthand will not be expected to revisit such horrors again."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "If you have loved ones you would spare from the same trauma, you may also leave. The crown will continue to recognize your service. I wish you good luck."

A few soldiers glanced at each other uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot. But to Anja's surprise, most of those who had been leaving turned back to face the Commander, their faces set with grim determination.

Pyxis nodded a fierce light in his eyes. "Four years ago, you may remember we conducted the Operation to retake Wall Maria. It was little more than a purge. A thinly disguised exercise in population control. We knew this in our hearts, but we turned a blind eye because their deaths allowed us to survive."

"That guilt is ours. The citizens of Wall Rose sustained themselves on the slaughter of the refugees of Wall Maria, who had come to us for help."

"If Trost falls, if Wall Rose is breached, the population will succumb by a whole new order of magnitude. Wall Sheena would not even be able to support half the refugees."

Anja felt a chill race down her spine.

"Have it in your mind that if humanity is eradicated, it won't be the fault of the Titans. We would have done it to ourselves. If a line isn't drawn now, it won't be drawn at all."

He raised his fist high, his voice rising to a shout. "Let us make our stand now! Let us die here!"

For a moment, there was only stunned silence. Then, a single voice rang out.

"For humanity!"

Another joined in, then another. Soon, the entire wall was echoing with the cries of the soldiers, their fists raised in defiance against the Titans, against their terror.

"Let's send those bastards back to hell!"

As the cheers reached a crescendo, Pyxis turned and strode away, leaving a charged silence in his wake. Then, as if a spell had been broken, the soldiers burst into motion, rushing to check their gear, to ready themselves for the battle to come.

...

Anja found herself swept up in the tide of soldiers rushing to take their positions along the wall. She rode the elevator up, her heart pounding in her ears, the weight of her gear a familiar and reassuring presence at her hips.

As she emerged onto the top of the wall, the scene before her was one of controlled chaos. Soldiers rushed back and forth, wheeling cannons into place and stacking crates of ammunition. Officers barked orders, their voices rising above the clamor.

Anja scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face. There, bent over a map with a group of other soldiers, was a head of blond hair she'd recognize anywhere.

She made her way over, weaving through the press of bodies until she reached Armin's side. He glanced up as she approached, his blue eyes widening in surprise and relief.

"Anja," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I'm glad you're here."

"How's Eren? Where is he? Is he feeling okay?" Anja asked in a rush, the questions tumbling out before she could stop them.

Armin glanced around, making sure they were out of earshot of the others. "He seemed better, but this… It's risky," he admitted. "Eren is already on the move, Mikasa went with him, along with the Garrison Elite."

Anja frowned, worry gnawing at her insides. "Isn't there another way?"

Armin shook his head. "There isn't, not on such short notice. This is our only chance." He tapped the map, his finger tracing a path from the wall to the boulder. "Eren will transform and carry the boulder to the breach. Meanwhile, the rest of us will be on the wall, drawing the Titans' attention away from him."

Anja felt a chill run down her spine. "Will that be enough?" she whispered.

"Most of them, I think, but it's still dangerous..." Armin said, his voice tight. "The only way this succeeds is if Eren can seal the hole. Only then can we take back Trost, pick off the Titans one by one until the city is clear."

Anja was silent for a long moment, her mind racing. It was a desperate plan, a gamble with the fate of humanity at stake.

"Do you think he can do it?" she asked softly. "Eren, I mean. Do you think he can control it?"

Armin met her gaze, his eyes fierce with determination. "I have to believe he can. He's our best hope, Anja. Our only hope."

Anja nodded, squaring her shoulders. "Then I'll do whatever it takes. I'll fight with everything I have. I won't let him down." I won't let any of you down. Not again.

The words hung unspoken between them, heavy with the weight of her guilt, her resolve. Armin reached out, gripping her shoulder in a brief, fierce squeeze.

"We're in this together, Anja. All of us."

Anja nodded. She glanced around, catching sight of her other friends preparing for battle. She couldn't bring herself to meet their eyes, noticing the way they studiously avoided her gaze in return. Her heart clenched, but she pushed the pain aside.

Below, the Titans were starting to crowd against the stone, their dead eyes staring up at the soldiers, their grasping hands reaching for the human prey just out of reach.

"It's working," Anja murmured. "They're coming to us."

But even as she spoke, she noticed some of the Titans breaking away from the horde, lumbering back towards the city.

"Do not waste ammunition!" an officer shouted, his voice rising above the clamor. "Do not fire unless instructed! We still don't know when or if the Colossal or Armored will reappear!"

Anja turned to Armin, her brow furrowed. "When will we know if Eren's made it?"

Armin's gaze was fixed on the horizon, his face tight with tension. "Flares, remember? If all goes well, we should see green smoke. Otherwise—"

"Red smoke, sir!"

The shout rang out like a gunshot, cutting through the air. Anja's head snapped around, her heart seizing in her chest.

There, rising from the center of Trost like a blood-red beacon against the grey sky, was a column of crimson smoke.