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Chapter 8
High above the trees, beneath the heavy silence of the forest shadows, four of humanity's greatest warriors soared through the sky—like falcons freed from their cages.
Erwin Smith, the commander whose eyes never wavered from his goal. Levi Ackerman, the strongest soldier known to mankind. Hange, the scientist madly obsessed with the world of Titans. And Mike Zacharias, the man with a wolf's nose—able to sense Titans before they are even seen.
Erwin gave the order, and in an instant, the four darted through the forest with their 3D maneuvering gear.
They spun threads of steel through the air, moving swiftly between the trees. The hiss of gas and engines echoed through the forest, as they weaved and twisted, bouncing off trunks, climbing to the heights, then plummeting like bullets from the sky.
Every time they paused, it was only for a second—perched upon the tallest branches like silent predators before diving back into the unknown, chasing the call of an unfamiliar Titan.
Mike inhaled deeply, eyes half-closed, as if listening to the wind itself:
"Commander… Something's on the right. Something big. I'm sure of it. It's not far."
Erwin raised his hand and signaled: "Then we go right. Move!"
In seconds, the four shadows cut through the forest again. With every passing moment, their speed increased, their vision expanded.
Then Hange exclaimed, a manic glint in her eyes:
"Look! Thick steam over there!"
They accelerated, descending from the treetops, boots hitting the forest floor. They stood in silence, staring ahead.
The scene before them was terrifying.
Steam filled the clearing, rising from a partially evaporated Titan. Its massive skeletal structure stood amidst the devastation.
The frame towered over 30 meters high, scorched and stiff muscles clinging between its vertebrae, long teeth—some broken—jutting from its mouth.
Hange stepped forward slowly, voice trembling:
"My God… We've never seen anything like this. This… this can't be real."
She reached out with a shaky hand, touching one of the massive ribs. Her entire body trembled with excitement:
"A Titan this size… and its bones remain intact even after minutes…"
Erwin frowned as he observed:
"If we'd arrived just minutes earlier, we might have seen it whole. But even what's left… tells us we're dealing with something different."
Levi stood quietly behind them, eyes narrowed, hand resting on his blade—ever alert, never trusting even the steam.
He muttered while gazing upward:
"This isn't the type we're used to. Even the way it's evaporating... slow. And these bones—we've never seen anything like them."
Mike knelt near the scorched ground, sniffing deeply:
"Someone was here. Not just a Titan… a human. Strong scent. Different."
Hange's voice cracked with mad excitement:
"Are you saying someone came out of this Titan?!"
Mike nodded, expression tense:
"A fresh human scent… but there's something else… something unnatural."
The four exchanged glances.
Erwin spoke softly, almost to himself:
"Then… a new type exists. A Titan unlike anything we know. And someone used it."
Erwin had long suspected the existence of such beings—reading ancient texts in his youth, he once theorized that some Titans could be wielded freely by humans.
Mike's words only confirmed that childhood suspicion.
As the wind played with the last trails of steam, the four stood in silence beneath the looming bones.
...
Four months had passed since the Survey Corps witnessed the rogue Titan beyond the Wall. Now, in the suffocating heat of August, the sun's glow cast long shadows upon the massive walls encasing Paradis Island. Beyond them, the world remained a mystery—dangerous and unseen.
In a quiet corner of the land, under an ancient tree near Wall Maria's gate, Eren Yeager lay in the shade, consumed by a strange dream.
...
A hazy vision.
In the depths of his sleep, Mikasa stood before him. Her hair cut short to her shoulders, her face cloaked in sorrow.
She whispered like a cool breeze: "See you later... Eren."
Suddenly—
His eyes snapped open, as if surfacing from deep waters. His breath was shallow, labored.
Mikasa knelt beside him, shaking him gently, her voice full of worry:
"Eren, wake up. You've been sleeping too long."
He blinked at her, eyes wet. Then stared.
"Mikasa… your hair? Why is it short?"
She raised an eyebrow, puzzled:
"Huh? What are you talking about? It's always been this way. What's wrong with you?"
Eren sat up slowly, eyes shifting from his hands to the sky.
"A dream… but I can't remember it…"
He glanced at her again. Tears slid down his cheeks.
Mikasa noticed.
"Eren… are you crying? What's happening to you?"
But he had no answer.
A sadness not his own clung to his heart—a pain from someone else's life… a sorrow yet to unfold.
...
Later, Eren and Mikasa walked the path home, carrying bundles of chopped wood.
He asked, quietly:
"Don't tell anyone I cried. Understand?"
Mikasa answered in the same tone:
"I promise."
Then added:
"But maybe you should let your dad examine you. Maybe it's because you're sick." (She still called Eren's father "Dad" as a child might.)
He snapped:
"Like I'd tell him I cried over a dream!"
She glanced at him—just as Hannes appeared, slinging an arm around Eren's shoulder, grinning:
"Did you really cry, Eren?"
Eren flinched:
"Haaah?! Why would I cry?! You're imagining things, drunkard! And what's that smell—alcohol?!"
Behind Hannes, three Garrison soldiers sat drinking wine from half-empty bottles.
One laughed:
"Hah, didn't anyone tell you? Life inside the Wall isn't all fighting."
Hannes shrugged:
"We're almost on break today. Our only duty is guarding the gate. No Titans. Not even a rat. What's wrong with a little fun?"
But Eren shouted, clenching his fists:
"You think the Titans will wait for you to sober up?! When it's time to fight, will you even be able to stand?!"
The mood shifted.
Hannes raised his eyebrows. The soldiers stopped laughing. Their faces hardened.
A heavy silence.
No one expected a ten-year-old to speak such brutal truth.
Hannes looked down, then said:
"You've got a sharp tongue, kid… but maybe you're right."
He sat on a stone ledge. Eren stood before him, trembling with fury.
Eren's voice cracked:
"I can't believe what I'm hearing. It's obvious! What will you do when the Wall falls?! When will you wake up—when Titans are in your homes?!"
His words struck them hard.
Hannes leaned forward:
"What's the matter, Eren? Why are you shouting like this?"
Eren didn't back down. His voice burned:
"I'm not rambling! My dad told me! The danger is real! The Titans… they'll break in if you keep treating this like a joke!"
One soldier chuckled, raising his glass:
"Come on, doctor's kid. Even if we were in danger—we'd handle it. Look at this Wall. It's protected us for a hundred years. Not a single Titan ever got through."
Another added:
"You know how tall this Wall is? Fifty meters! They're just dumb beasts. They won't climb it, let alone destroy it."
To Eren, their words were daggers. His voice rose:
"Books?! I'm not talking about fairy tales—I'm talking reality! Stop being naïve! Your defenses are weak, your spirit weaker! What good are weapons if your minds aren't ready?!"
Hannes sighed, then stood. He faced Eren.
He met the boy's blazing eyes.
"You're right, Eren. I won't pretend to know more than your father—the great Dr. Yeager… but…"
He paused, then looked toward the sky and the towering Wall.
"As soldiers, we sometimes glimpse them… those Titans. Far in the distance. Haunting shadows. And while we stand here, reinforcing walls, smiling to forget… we've never once seen a Titan approach this gate in a hundred years."
He hesitated.
"This Wall… it's fifty meters high. I just don't see how any creature—Titan or not—could break through."
Yet despite his words, Eren found no comfort.
His heart pounded like a warning drum. A whisper echoed inside him:
"Soon… everything will change."
None of them knew—not Hannes, not his men, not even Mikasa silently watching—that what Eren said today… wasn't a child's fantasy.
It was the shadow of truth.
And that truth… would fall from the sky before the day was
done.
To be continued...