Chapter Text

Chapter One

The airship trembled as it flew over the remnants of Liberio, the chaos and destruction Eren had unleashed still visible below. Inside the dimly lit cabin, the scouts were silent, their expressions taut with disbelief and horror. Blood, dirt, and the smell of gunpowder clung to their uniforms as they processed the events of the raid.

Mikasa, standing at the far end, couldn’t stop staring at Eren, who sat quietly near the back of the ship, his head lowered, his long brown hair falling in front of his face. His hands, still bruised and bloodied from his transformation, rested protectively around a petite woman who leaned into him, trembling slightly.

Aurora Jaeger, her platinum-blonde hair cascading in soft waves down her back, looked terrified, her delicate hands clutching Eren's shirt as if it were her only lifeline. She had been silent since he had carried her into the airship, her wide, ice-blue eyes darting nervously around the cabin at the faces of the scouts who stared back at her with confusion and suspicion.

Levi’s sharp gaze narrowed on Eren from across the room, his voice cutting through the thick tension. "Who is she?" His tone was low, demanding. His eyes didn’t leave Eren for a second.

Eren didn’t answer immediately. His hold on Aurora tightened ever so slightly, his jaw clenched, as if bracing himself for the inevitable confrontation. Aurora’s grip on his shirt tightened in response, and she buried her face into his shoulder, seeking comfort in his presence.

Mikasa’s heart twisted painfully at the sight, the familiar pang of jealousy and heartbreak swelling in her chest. The way Aurora clung to Eren, the way he held her—so gently, so protectively—it was a side of him Mikasa had never seen before. Her fists clenched by her sides, but she remained silent, her eyes burning with unspoken questions.

Levi took a step forward, his impatience growing. "Eren," he barked, "I asked you a question. Who is she, and why the hell did you bring a civilian on board?"

Finally, Eren lifted his head, his green eyes dark and unreadable, yet simmering with an intensity that made everyone freeze. His voice, when he spoke, was steady, emotionless. "She’s my wife."

The cabin fell into stunned silence. The word seemed to hang in the air like a bombshell, and every pair of eyes shot toward Aurora, whose face was now hidden against Eren’s chest. Mikasa’s breath caught in her throat, her body going rigid as the realization hit her like a punch to the gut.

"Wife?" Jean was the first to break the silence, his voice filled with disbelief. "You’re telling me you got married while we were out there risking our lives?!"

Eren didn’t flinch. His gaze remained fixed on Levi, as if daring anyone to question him further. "Yes. Aurora is my wife. And no one is going to touch her."

Levi’s eyes darkened, but his voice remained calm, cold. "You expect us to believe that you married some Marleyan in the middle of a mission?"

Aurora flinched at the sharpness in Levi’s voice. Eren’s hand shifted to her back, rubbing soothing circles against her trembling form, his expression softening only for her. "She’s not a threat," Eren said quietly, his voice firm but laced with an edge of protectiveness. "She’s with me. That’s all you need to know."

"Not a threat?" Levi’s voice rose slightly, his frustration clear. "Eren, we just went through hell in Liberio, and now you’re telling me you brought a Marleyan civilian—a woman —on board, claiming she’s your wife, and we’re supposed to just accept that without an explanation?"

Aurora’s heart raced as she felt the hostility in the room rising. She pressed herself closer to Eren, her hands trembling as she gripped his shirt tighter. She had never seen Eren's friends before—these were the people who had fought alongside him, who knew the part of Eren she had only begun to understand. She had always known Eren as the man who loved her, who held her close and spoke softly to her. But here, surrounded by these hardened soldiers, she saw the part of Eren that terrified her—the ruthless warrior, the devil of Paradis.

Mikasa’s voice finally broke through, soft but filled with pain. "Why didn’t you tell us, Eren?" Her words were fragile, like shattered glass. "Why did you hide this from us?"

Eren didn’t look at her. He kept his gaze on Levi, his voice unyielding. "Because it wasn’t your business. I don’t owe any of you an explanation."

Aurora could feel the tension rolling off Eren in waves, and her heart ached for him. She knew how much he had been through, how much he had suffered. And now, seeing him face off against the people who had stood by his side for so long, she felt a deep sadness settle in her chest. She wanted to say something, to defend him, but the words wouldn’t come. Her throat felt tight, her mind a whirlwind of fear and uncertainty.

Levi stepped closer, his eyes narrowing, his posture radiating authority. "You forced our hand, Eren. We followed you into Marley because we didn’t have a choice. You put all of us at risk. And now you’re bringing a civilian into this mess? You better have a damn good reason."

Eren’s gaze was like steel, unwavering. "I brought her because she’s mine," he said, his voice low, almost possessive. "And I’m not leaving her behind."

Aurora’s cheeks flushed at his words, a mixture of fear and affection swelling inside her. She leaned into him more, her heart pounding. She didn’t understand everything that was happening, but one thing was clear—Eren was her anchor in this storm, and she would follow him no matter where it led.

Levi’s jaw clenched, but before he could respond, Mikasa’s soft voice cut through the tension once more. "Eren…" Her eyes were filled with a desperate need for answers, for understanding. "How long has this been going on? How long have you kept this from us?"

For the first time, Eren’s expression faltered, a flicker of something passing through his eyes. His voice, however, remained steady. "Since before the raid," he admitted quietly. "I met Aurora while I was undercover. We…" His gaze softened as he glanced down at Aurora, her eyes meeting his briefly before she shyly averted them. "We got married before the attack."

The shock in the room was palpable. Jean cursed under his breath, and Connie’s eyes were wide with disbelief. Sasha, who had been silent this whole time, looked between Eren and Aurora with a mixture of confusion and concern.

Mikasa’s face went pale. Her hands trembled at her sides, and she swallowed hard, the pain in her chest almost unbearable. She had always been at Eren’s side. Always. And now, here was this woman—this stranger—who had somehow taken that place without her even knowing. The realization was like a knife twisting in her heart.

Levi’s eyes flicked to Aurora, who was still curled up in Eren’s arms, her small frame barely visible against his larger form. "And you trust her?" he asked, his voice cold. "You trust her enough to risk everything?"

"I trust her with my life," Eren replied without hesitation. "And that’s all that matters."

The cabin fell into an uneasy silence, the weight of Eren’s words hanging over them like a storm cloud. Aurora, feeling the weight of so many eyes on her, squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her face further into Eren’s chest. She had never wanted to be part of this world of violence and war, but now, she was bound to it—bound to Eren, the man she had chosen above all else.

In the quiet, Levi’s gaze lingered on Eren for a long moment before he finally spoke again, his voice low and resigned. "We’ll deal with this when we get back to Paradis."

Aurora felt Eren’s hand tighten protectively around her as he gave a curt nod. The war wasn’t over yet, but she knew, as long as Eren was by her side, she would face whatever came next—no matter the cost.

But not everyone was satisfied with Eren’s reply.

Jean stood up abruptly, his fists clenched as his eyes burned with frustration. His voice cut through the air like a blade.

“What the hell is this supposed to be?” Jean’s glare was fixed on Eren, his words dripping with disbelief and anger. “We nearly died back there, all because of your insane plan to get the War Hammer Titan's power—and now you show up with her ? Claiming she’s your wife?!”

Eren remained silent, his expression as unreadable as ever, but the air around him seemed to shift, a palpable tension growing in the space between them. Aurora flinched at the harshness of Jean’s voice, her hands instinctively tightening around Eren’s shirt as she tried to make herself smaller.

Jean wasn’t finished. He took a step closer, his rage boiling over. “While we were out there risking our lives— worried sick about where you’d been—you were off playing house with her?” He gestured sharply toward Aurora, his words laced with bitterness. “We haven’t heard a damn thing from you since you ran off from that forum held by the Subjects of Ymir Protection Group. And then you make yourself a hostage in Liberio, force the scouts to come after you—because without you, there’s no future for Paradis. You forced our hand!”

Aurora felt her heart pounding in her chest, the hostility in the air almost suffocating. Jean’s piercing gaze turned toward her, and for the first time, she felt the full weight of the scouts' anger, their confusion and disbelief. Jean’s eyes bore into her, and she took an involuntary step back, her grip on Eren tightening.

Jean’s voice lowered, dangerously close. “Who even are you? What gives you the right to—”

Before Jean could finish, Eren moved. In an instant, he stood up, the sharp sound of his boots hitting the metal floor cutting through the tension. His hand shot out, pushing Aurora protectively behind him, his body shielding her from Jean’s advancing form. The movement was quick, precise, and filled with an intensity that made everyone in the airship freeze.

Eren's green eyes, usually cold and distant, were now burning with a fierce, unrelenting fire. He stared Jean down, his expression dark, his jaw tight. The air seemed to hum with danger as he spoke, his voice low and filled with barely contained anger.

“If you want to be mad at me, Jean—fine. But don’t think for a second I’ll let you or anyone try to intimidate my wife.”

Jean’s eyes widened slightly, taken aback by the sheer force of Eren’s words, but his anger didn’t waver. He stepped forward again, refusing to back down, his hands trembling with rage. “Your wife ? Eren, we nearly died out there because of you! We lost comrades, people we cared about, and you’re telling me that while we were out there fighting, you were getting married ?!”

Eren’s body tensed, his hands flexing at his sides as if ready for a fight. “I did what had to be done,” he said through gritted teeth. “And I’ll keep doing it. I don’t owe you an explanation.”

Jean’s frustration erupted, his voice growing louder. “That’s bullshit , Eren! We followed you—because we believed in you! We thought you had a plan, that we were doing this for the future of all of us. But now it feels like this is just for you ! For whatever the hell you think is right!” He gestured sharply toward Aurora again, his voice filled with disbelief. “And now you bring her into this mess? What’s next, Eren? Huh? You think we’re just going to follow you blindly while you drag us into whatever twisted game you’re playing?”

Aurora’s breath hitched as Jean’s harsh words cut through the air. She could feel the tension rising, the raw emotion in the room building like a storm about to break. Her eyes flicked to Eren, who stood rigid in front of her, his broad back shielding her from Jean’s gaze. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the barely controlled fury simmering beneath the surface.

Eren took a step forward, his eyes locked on Jean. His voice, when he spoke again, was dangerously calm. “I didn’t drag you into anything, Jean. You made your choice to follow me. If you have a problem with that, take it up with me. But leave her out of it.”

Jean’s lips curled into a snarl, his fists trembling at his sides. “You think we’re just going to stand here and accept this? After everything we’ve been through? After everything you’ve done ?”

Eren’s gaze darkened, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You don’t have to accept it. But you’re not going to touch her.”

The air in the cabin was suffocating, the tension thick and oppressive. Mikasa, who had been standing silently in the background, finally stepped forward, her expression a mix of hurt and confusion. “Eren… we deserve answers. You owe us that much.”

Eren’s eyes flicked to Mikasa for the briefest moment, but the hardened expression on his face didn’t soften. His attention returned to Jean, his stance unyielding. “You’ll get your answers when the time comes,” he said coldly. “But right now, we’re going back to Paradis. That’s all that matters.”

Jean looked like he wanted to say more, his anger still burning brightly, but Connie stepped forward and placed a hand on Jean’s shoulder, a silent plea for him to back down. Jean hesitated, his eyes flicking between Eren and Aurora, before he finally let out a frustrated growl and turned away, storming to the other side of the cabin.

The tension in the room remained, thick and heavy, but no one dared speak again. Eren stood protectively in front of Aurora, his body still tense, his gaze never leaving Jean’s retreating form.

Aurora, who had been silent the entire time, finally looked up at Eren, her heart still racing from the confrontation. She reached out, her hand trembling slightly, and placed it gently on his arm. “Eren…” she whispered softly, her voice filled with concern.

Eren’s posture softened ever so slightly at her touch. He turned to her, his expression still hard, but his eyes softened when they met hers. Without a word, he took her hand in his, holding it tightly as if grounding himself in her presence.

The airship continued its journey back to Paradis, the weight of the unspoken words and unresolved tensions hanging heavy in the air. But in that moment, Aurora knew one thing for certain—no matter what came next, Eren would protect her, even if it meant standing against the people he had once called his friends.

…

Levi’s sharp eyes didn’t miss a single detail of what had just happened. From the moment Jean stepped too close to Aurora, to the instant Eren’s entire demeanor shifted—protective, fierce, almost primal. It wasn’t something Levi had seen in Eren before, at least not like this. He’d seen Eren angry, desperate, and vengeful, but this was different. This wasn’t about Eren’s usual righteous fury or his deep-seated thirst for freedom.

No, this was something else entirely.

Eren's intense reaction toward Jean told Levi more than words ever could. This woman—Aurora—wasn’t just another chess piece on Eren's board. Eren had a habit of manipulating people, using them to further his own goals. But the way Eren shielded Aurora, the possessiveness in his stance, the way he pushed her behind him with such certainty, it was clear that she wasn’t just some pawn.

Levi’s eyes narrowed, his mind working quickly through the implications. Eren genuinely cared about her. He could tell by the tension in Eren’s shoulders, the way his body seemed to coil protectively around Aurora like a steel trap ready to snap shut at any moment. It wasn’t just protection. Eren was acting as if the world might collapse around them, and he would still be there to defend her. That kind of reaction only came from something deeper.

Love.

Levi’s lips thinned slightly. In love? Since when? Eren had left them all behind seven months ago, disappearing from the summit of the Subjects of Ymir Protection Group without a word. Since then, he’d been in Marley, undercover and unreachable. No one knew where Eren had gone or what he had been doing during those months. But now, seeing this strange, innocent-looking girl clinging to him as if he were her lifeline…Levi couldn’t help but wonder.

How the hell did they fall in love? It was almost impossible to comprehend. Eren had always been focused—obsessed, really—with the future of Paradis, with freeing their people. Love had never factored into the equation before. He wasn’t the kind of person to be distracted by such things. Yet here he was, practically snarling at Jean for even daring to get too close to her.

Levi’s eyes flicked to Aurora. She looked fragile, almost too soft for someone who had just witnessed the absolute carnage in Liberio. Her delicate hands clutched Eren’s shirt, her body trembling slightly from the confrontation, and yet she stayed with him. She had seen Eren at his worst—unleashing pure, merciless brutality on the people of Marley, transforming into the Attack Titan and slaughtering everyone in his path. And yet, she stood here, still holding onto him.

Levi couldn’t help but wonder… What kind of woman is she?

It was one thing to stand by a soldier. It was another to stand by a man who had just transformed into a literal monster, tearing down buildings and crushing his enemies without a second thought. Eren had used the Jaw Titan like a tool, cracking open the War Hammer Titan’s crystal in the most savage way possible, all to gain its power. It was horrifying, the level of violence, the coldness in Eren’s eyes as he carried out his plan. And Aurora had watched it all.

How much did she really know about Eren? Did she understand that Eren was a man consumed by a greater purpose, willing to destroy anything in his path?

Levi’s eyes never left Eren. He needed to know. He needed to understand what was really going on here.

Levi finally broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “Eren.”

Eren glanced at him, his expression still hard, but Levi didn’t miss the way his hand stayed wrapped protectively around Aurora’s. “What is this?” Levi’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it. “You went off the grid for months, forced us into this mission, and now you show up with… her?”

Eren didn’t answer immediately, his jaw tightening as he seemed to weigh his words. “She’s my wife, Levi. I told you that.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, you mentioned that. What I want to know is why . Why now? How did this happen? You’ve been gone for seven months. We didn’t hear a word from you, and now suddenly, you’ve got a wife?” His gaze shifted briefly to Aurora, then back to Eren. “What kind of woman marries someone like you after what you just did in Liberio?”

Aurora flinched at the harshness in Levi’s voice, but Eren remained calm, his voice low and steady. “She knows who I am. She knows everything.”

Levi’s brow furrowed slightly. “Does she? Does she really know the full extent of what you’ve become, Eren? The lengths you’ll go to?”

Eren’s gaze was unwavering, his tone firm. “She does.”

Aurora’s voice, soft and hesitant, broke through the conversation for the first time. “I know… I know who Eren is,” she said quietly, her eyes flicking nervously between Levi and Eren. “I know what he’s done… but I also know why he’s doing it.”

Levi’s eyes shifted to Aurora, his sharp gaze assessing her. There was something about the way she spoke, the tremble in her voice that indicated fear, but not fear of Eren. It was fear of the situation, fear of the unknown. Yet, despite that, she was still standing by his side.

“How much do you really know?” Levi pressed, his voice cold and calculating.

Aurora swallowed, glancing up at Eren for reassurance before answering. “I know he’s fighting for Paradis. I know he’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect his people… to protect me.”

Levi’s jaw clenched slightly at her words. Protect her? That wasn’t the Eren he knew. Eren had always been focused on the bigger picture, on freeing their people from the shackles of oppression. But this… this was different. This was personal.

Eren’s voice, quiet but filled with conviction, broke through Levi’s thoughts. “She’s with me, Captain. That’s all you need to understand. I’ll protect her, no matter what.”

Levi studied Eren’s face for a long moment, searching for any cracks in his resolve. But there were none. Eren was deadly serious, and that was what unsettled Levi the most. This wasn’t a boy anymore. This was a man who had seen the world for what it truly was—ugly, brutal, and unforgiving. And yet, in the midst of all that darkness, he had found something worth protecting.

Levi’s eyes flicked back to Aurora. He still didn’t trust her, not fully. But if Eren was willing to go this far for her, there had to be more to the story than they were seeing.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Eren,” Levi said quietly, his voice laced with a hint of warning. “Because if she’s with you, then she’s in this for the long haul. And there’s no turning back now.”

Eren’s gaze was steady, his grip on Aurora never loosening. “I know.”

Levi gave a small nod, his expression unreadable, before turning his attention back to the rest of the room. The tension still hung thick in the air, but for now, it seemed, the matter was settled.

Aurora pressed closer to Eren, feeling the weight of everything that had just happened. She knew the road ahead would be difficult—filled with danger, uncertainty, and pain. But as long as she was with Eren, she would face whatever came next.

And Eren, with his fierce determination and unwavering resolve, would do the same.

But in the corner of the airship…something else was unraveling.

Mikasa stood in the corner of the airship, her entire body trembling as the weight of everything crashed down on her like an avalanche. Her heart felt like it had been ripped out of her chest, shredded by the scene unfolding before her. The woman—Aurora—was nestled against Eren, her hands clinging to him as if he were her entire world. Eren sat there, calm, protective, and completely unfazed by the chaos surrounding him.

Wife .

That single word echoed in Mikasa’s mind, over and over, like a hammer pounding against her skull. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense.

Months. Months. Eren had disappeared without a trace. No word, no clue as to whether he was alive or dead. Every day, every night, Mikasa had been consumed by the gnawing worry that something terrible had happened to him. She had barely slept, barely eaten, her mind constantly replaying worst-case scenarios. Was he hurt? Was he captured? Was he... gone ?

And then, out of nowhere, they received his letters. Eren’s cold, calculated plan to raid Liberio, dragging them all into a nightmare. She had followed him, like she always did, because what else could she do ? Eren was everything to her. Everything. He was the reason she fought, the reason she survived. Even when he pushed her away, even when he said those horrible things to her—things that had shattered her soul—she couldn’t stop caring about him.

But now?

Now Eren was sitting there, with this woman beside him. This stranger. His wife .

Mikasa felt like she was going to throw up. Her stomach churned violently, and her hands clenched so tightly into fists that her knuckles turned white. She felt like the ground beneath her was crumbling, like her entire world had just collapsed in on itself.

How? How had this happened? When had this happened? They had been worried sick about Eren, risking everything to save him, and he had been—what? Falling in love? Getting married?

Her chest tightened, the air around her suddenly feeling suffocating. She tried to breathe, but it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Eren and Aurora, the sight of them together making her vision blur with unshed tears.

“Mikasa…” Armin’s soft voice broke through her spiraling thoughts, and she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Breathe. Just… breathe.”

Mikasa blinked, her wide, hollow eyes turning to Armin, who was looking at her with a mixture of concern and disbelief. He was doing his best to console her, but even he couldn’t hide his shock at the situation. His face was pale, his lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to process everything that had just happened.

Armin's gaze flickered toward Eren and Aurora, his brow furrowed in confusion. “I… I don’t understand it either,” he admitted, his voice shaky. “I don’t know what Eren was thinking. But we’ll get answers. We’ll figure it out. Just—try to stay calm.”

But Mikasa couldn’t calm down. How could she? Eren—the boy she had loved her entire life, the boy who had been her reason for fighting, her reason for living—had just declared that he was married. To someone else.

Her breath hitched, and she turned away, unable to look at them anymore. Her vision swam, and her heart pounded so loudly in her ears that it drowned out everything else.

How long had Eren been with this woman? How long had he known her? They hadn’t heard from him in months , and in that time, he had somehow fallen in love, gotten married, and kept it all a secret.

Why hadn’t he told them?

The thought stabbed at her like a knife. Why hadn’t he told her ? Mikasa had always been by Eren’s side, no matter what. She had protected him, fought for him, even when he didn’t ask for it. She had always been there. And yet… Eren had never looked at her the way he was looking at Aurora now.

Mikasa felt her heart break all over again.

Armin’s voice was soft, but it carried a weight of understanding. “Mikasa… I know this is hard, but we need to stay focused. We don’t know what’s going on with Eren right now. But we’ll find out. We’ll talk to him.”

Mikasa nodded numbly, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal, the overwhelming sense of loss that was consuming her. Eren had always been distant, but this… this was something else. He had built a wall between them, and now, standing on the other side of that wall was Aurora.

Armin gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, his own expression still clouded with confusion. “He’s still our friend, Mikasa. We’ll figure this out. Don’t lose hope.”

But the truth was, Mikasa had lost hope. Because no matter how much she tried to deny it, the sight of Eren sitting there with Aurora, holding her close, protecting her with such intensity… It was clear.

Eren had already moved on.

And Mikasa didn’t know if she could ever recover from that.

…

Aurora’s heart ached as her ice-blue eyes drifted toward the corner of the airship, where Mikasa stood, pale and trembling, her face etched with a mixture of devastation and disbelief. The emotions were raw, painfully clear, and Aurora could see the subtle tremor in Mikasa’s hands as she tried to hold herself together. Armin stood next to her, speaking softly, though his expression mirrored the confusion and shock that had gripped the entire airship.

Aurora’s fingers unconsciously tightened around Eren’s arm, but her thoughts wandered to the stories he had told her about Mikasa and Armin—the two people who had been by his side for most of his life. He had spoken of them with a strange fondness, though his tone had grown colder over time. He had told her how, after she disappeared all those years ago, he hadn’t had any friends. She had been his first companion, his first confidant.

But then came Armin, the soft-spoken boy who shared Eren’s dreams of the world beyond the walls. And then, not long after that, there was Mikasa, the girl Eren had saved from a horrific fate.

Aurora remembered the way Eren’s voice had darkened when he spoke of that day, of the rage he felt when he discovered that Mikasa had been kidnapped by human traffickers. He had been just a boy, barely nine years old, and yet he had killed two men with his own hands to protect her. Eren had described how Mikasa had been frozen in fear, unable to defend herself, until he told her to fight. His words had given her the strength to kill the third man and save herself. It was a memory that had clearly stayed with Eren, and it had defined his relationship with Mikasa ever since.

But as Aurora looked at Mikasa now, the pain radiating from her in waves, Aurora couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. Was this woman in love with Eren? From what Aurora could see, Mikasa’s feelings went far beyond friendship. Her reaction wasn’t that of someone seeing a friend in a new relationship—it was far more personal, more intimate.

Mikasa’s eyes weren’t just filled with confusion and shock. They were filled with betrayal .

Aurora’s chest tightened as she realized what she was seeing. Mikasa wasn’t acting like someone who saw Eren as a brother or a childhood friend. She was acting like she had lost something, something precious and irreplaceable. Like she had lost Eren himself.

Aurora swallowed hard, her eyes flicking between Mikasa and Eren. She had known, deep down, that the bond between Eren and his friends ran deep. But she hadn’t expected this. She hadn’t expected Mikasa to look at Eren as if she were about to break into pieces right in front of them.

“Eren…” Aurora’s voice was soft, hesitant. She wasn’t sure if she should even bring it up, but the weight of Mikasa’s reaction gnawed at her. She leaned in closer to him, her voice low enough so only he could hear. “Is that… Mikasa?”

Eren’s eyes flickered to the corner of the airship, landing on Mikasa for a brief second before turning away. His expression remained as cold and distant as ever, but Aurora could see a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—cross his face. “Yeah. That’s her.”

Aurora hesitated, her mind racing. “She looks… devastated,” she murmured, feeling an uneasy knot twist in her stomach. “Does she… care about you more than just as a friend?”

Eren didn’t answer right away. He sighed quietly, his gaze fixed on the floor. “She’s always cared about me,” he said, his voice low, almost tired. “But it’s not like that. Not for me.”

Aurora’s heart sank as she listened to his words. It wasn’t a full answer, and she wasn’t sure if Eren even understood the depth of Mikasa’s feelings. But Aurora could see it clearly now—Mikasa loved Eren. Not just as a childhood friend or a protector, but as something much more. It was in the way Mikasa was staring at him, her wide, hollow eyes filled with unspoken pain.

And here Aurora was, Eren’s wife, sitting next to him as he held her protectively in front of the people who had followed him into hell and back. Mikasa’s devastation made sense now, and it filled Aurora with a strange guilt she hadn’t anticipated. Mikasa must have thought she would always be at Eren’s side, protecting him, fighting for him. And now, she had to witness someone else—the woman Eren had chosen to marry—take that place.

Aurora’s hand gently rested on Eren’s arm, her voice even quieter now, almost a whisper. “Eren… does she know about us? About me?”

Eren’s jaw tightened again, his green eyes hardening once more. “She does now.”

The coldness in his tone made Aurora flinch slightly, but she didn’t press further. She knew Eren well enough to understand that when he spoke like this, when he shut himself off emotionally, there was no getting through to him. But the reality of the situation weighed heavily on her. Mikasa’s feelings for Eren were painfully obvious now, and Aurora didn’t know what that would mean for the future—for them.

She didn’t want to be the source of anyone’s heartbreak, least of all Mikasa’s. But what could she do? She loved Eren. She had chosen him, despite everything, and he had chosen her. They were bound together now, by vows spoken beneath the stars and promises made in the darkest of times.

But in doing so, Aurora realized, they had left others behind. And the fallout was only just beginning.

Aurora’s eyes lingered on Mikasa for a moment longer before she looked away, leaning into Eren’s side, seeking comfort in his presence. She had made her choice, and no matter what, she would stand by him. But as the tension in the airship thickened, and the pain in Mikasa’s eyes grew more evident, Aurora couldn’t help but wonder if their love had come at too high a cost.

Because it was clear to her now—Mikasa didn’t just see Eren as a friend. She had been acting like she had lost her lover.

Eren sat still, his body tense as the airship hummed with the strained silence that had settled over everyone. His eyes shifted toward Mikasa in the corner, her face pale and her expression shattered. The sight tugged at something deep inside him, something that had once been a constant between them. He could see how distraught she was, her shoulders trembling with the weight of her emotions, and it wasn’t hard to understand why.

But Eren had made his choice.

And his choice was Aurora.

He felt her presence beside him, her small hand still clinging to his jacket as if he were her anchor. He gently squeezed her hand, reassuring her without words. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about Mikasa—how could he not, after everything they had been through? But things had changed. He had changed. And Aurora was the one thing in this cruel world that had reawakened a part of him he thought had been buried long ago.

Eren’s thoughts drifted back to the day he thought he’d lost her forever. He was only a child back then, but the impact of Aurora’s disappearance had been profound. One day, she was there in Shiganshina—his first friend, his first crush—and then suddenly, she was gone. No explanations. No goodbyes. Just gone.

His parents didn’t know what had happened. The neighbors had no answers. It was as if Aurora and her family had vanished into thin air, leaving behind nothing but a hollow ache in Eren’s chest. He had searched for her, in the way a child would, hoping he would run into her on the streets of Shiganshina or catch a glimpse of her familiar figure at the market. But days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. And eventually, even his hope began to fade.

But he never forgot her.

Aurora had been his only friend back then. He had no one else, and her sudden disappearance had left a void in his life. He never told Armin or Mikasa about her. Not because he didn’t trust them, but because Aurora’s memory felt too personal, too sacred. He held onto it tightly, as if speaking her name aloud would somehow make the memory slip away.

Throughout the years, he thought about her often, wondering where she had gone. What had happened to her?  Was she safe? Was she happy? Was she even alive? He imagined what she would look like now. Would they still be friends? Or… something more?

It was a thought that had haunted him, especially on the lonelier nights, when the weight of his burdens pressed down on him. Aurora had been the first light in his life, the first person who had made him feel seen. And then she was gone.

And then, as if fate had a cruel sense of humor, he saw her again. In Marley of all places.

Eren had been deep undercover, the rage and determination fueling him as he prepared for the attack on Liberio. His mind had been focused on the mission, on the destruction he was about to unleash, when he heard the faint sound of someone singing. A voice that, though older, still carried the same softness he remembered. It had stopped him in his tracks.

He thought he was hallucinating at first, that the exhaustion and stress of his mission had finally gotten to him. But when he followed the sound, he saw her. Sitting beneath a tree, her platinum-blonde hair glowing in the fading light, her voice carrying softly through the air.

He had thought he was seeing a ghost.

His heart had nearly stopped in his chest, his body frozen as he stared at her. But he recognized her immediately. He’d know those eyes anywhere. The same icy-blue eyes that had once looked at him with such warmth, such kindness.

Aurora.

She hadn’t changed, not really. She was older, yes, her features more refined, more delicate. But she was still her . And in that moment, the years fell away, and Eren was once again that little boy, desperate to reach out to her, to make sure she was real.

It took everything in him not to break down right then and there. He had spent so many years thinking she was gone—dead, even. The fact that she was alive, right in front of him, nearly brought him to tears.

Aurora had been afraid at first, not recognizing him immediately. But when their eyes met, and she saw the boy she had once known in the man standing before her, something shifted. It was like the world had stopped turning for a brief moment, and they were just two people, reconnecting after years of separation.

It had all come flooding back then—the memories, the feelings he had buried, the quiet hope that had stayed with him through all the pain. Eren had thought he’d lost her forever. But now she was here, with him, and he wasn’t going to let her go.

He glanced down at Aurora, who still leaned against him, her soft presence grounding him in a way nothing else could. He had chosen her. He had chosen to protect her, to keep her by his side, no matter what came next.

Eren’s gaze shifted back to Mikasa, who was still staring at him with those broken eyes, and he felt a pang of guilt twist in his chest. He knew what she was feeling—he could see it written all over her face. But he couldn’t undo what had already been done.

He had made his choice.

Aurora was his, and no one—not even Mikasa—could change that.

His voice, low and steady, cut through the tension in the airship. “Mikasa.”

Mikasa blinked, as if pulled from a trance. Her wide eyes met his, and for a moment, she looked like she was about to say something—anything. But the words never came.

Eren’s expression remained calm, though there was a faint sadness behind his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, though he wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for what had happened, or for something much deeper. Something he couldn’t give her.

Mikasa’s lips trembled, and Armin’s hand on her shoulder tightened, as if trying to steady her. But Eren could see the devastation in her eyes, the realization that no matter what she had hoped for, no matter what she had believed… he had chosen someone else.

Eren didn’t look away. He couldn’t. Because in that moment, he had to make sure she understood.

“I made my choice,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “And it’s Aurora.”

The silence that followed was deafening, and Eren could feel the weight of it pressing down on all of them. But he didn’t regret his decision.

He never would.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

Flashback: Eren and Aurora’s Reunion in Marley

The streets of Liberio were quiet as dusk began to settle over the city, the orange glow of the setting sun casting long shadows between the narrow alleyways. Eren, disguised in a stolen Marleyan uniform, moved with purpose, his mind consumed by the mission ahead. The attack on Liberio was only months away, and everything hinged on one key objective: stealing the War Hammer Titan from the Tybur family. They were powerful, elusive, and heavily guarded. But Eren knew this was his best chance to finally turn the tides in favor of Paradis.

As his thoughts swirled, a sound broke through the quiet—soft and melodic, floating on the gentle evening breeze.

It was a voice. A song.

Eren stopped in his tracks, his body tensing as he listened more closely. There was something about that voice, something familiar. His heart pounded in his chest, his pulse quickening as he strained to hear the melody more clearly. It stirred something deep inside him, something he hadn’t felt in years.

Could it be…?

Without thinking, Eren turned and followed the sound. His feet carried him through the narrow streets, his mind racing with a mixture of disbelief and anticipation. The song grew louder as he approached a small courtyard hidden behind an old, crumbling building. And there, sitting beneath the shade of a large tree, was a figure.

A young woman, her platinum-blonde hair glowing in the fading light. She was singing softly to herself, her delicate voice filling the air with an almost ethereal quality.

Eren’s breath caught in his throat.

Aurora.

For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating. He had imagined this moment so many times over the years, wondering if he would ever see her again. He had long believed she was dead, taken from him all those years ago when her family had disappeared from Shiganshina. No one had known what happened to them. Not his parents. Not the neighbors. It was as if they had vanished without a trace.

And now, here she was. Alive. Real.

Eren’s feet felt glued to the ground as he stared at her, his heart pounding in his chest. His mind raced with a flood of memories—the two of them as children, running through the streets of Shiganshina, playing together before the world had grown so dark. She had been his first friend, his first crush, and her sudden disappearance had left a gaping hole in his life that had never truly healed.

And now, she was here.

Aurora seemed unaware of his presence, lost in her song. But as Eren stepped closer, her voice faltered, and she lifted her head. Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, there was only silence between them. Eren’s heart raced as he saw the confusion and fear flash across her face. She didn’t recognize him—at least, not yet.

But Eren… he knew her instantly. He had never forgotten those eyes.

“Aurora…” His voice cracked slightly, hoarse with emotion. He took a slow step forward, his hands trembling. “It’s me… Eren.”

Aurora froze, her eyes widening in shock. Her lips parted as if she wanted to speak, but no words came out. She stared at him, her body trembling as she slowly took a step back, her gaze darting across his face as if trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

“Eren?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He nodded, his throat tight. “It’s me. I thought… I thought I lost you.”

Aurora’s breath hitched, and she took a shaky step toward him, her hand reaching out as if she needed to touch him to be sure he was real. “I… I never thought I would see you again,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “After all these years… I thought…”

Eren couldn’t take it anymore. He closed the distance between them in an instant, pulling her into his arms. The moment her small frame pressed against his chest, a wave of relief washed over him. She was here. She was alive. And she was in his arms again.

“Eren…what are you even doing here? How are you here?” Aurora asked softly, her voice cutting through the stillness between them as she clutched his shirt tightly. “Why are you in Marley? What are you doing here?”

Eren’s heart skipped a beat at her words, but his face remained neutral. He hadn’t expected this question so soon—but he had known the second he saw Aurora that it was coming eventually. He’d been dreading it, even. He didn’t know how to explain the truth without breaking the fragile bond they had just begun to rebuild.

How could he tell her the full scope of his plans? How could he explain that his goal was to tear down the world she had known? How could he make her understand that everything he was doing was for the sake of Paradis, for their people, even if it meant unleashing a nightmare?

He shifted uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze for a moment. His mind racing as he tried to find the right words. “It’s… complicated,” he finally said, his voice low and guarded. “I’m here on a mission for Paradis. That’s all I can say right now.”

Aurora furrowed her brow, her gaze still locked on him. She could sense his hesitation, the way he was holding something back. “A mission? Eren, what kind of mission would bring you all the way to Marley? What could be so important that you’re risking your life here, pretending to be one of them?”

Eren’s jaw tightened. She wasn’t going to let this go. He knew Aurora—she was always too smart, too intuitive to accept vague answers. She deserved to know more, but the truth… it was too dangerous. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he wasn’t sure how she would react if she knew the full extent of what he was planning.

“It’s… complicated,” he repeated, his voice slightly strained. He wasn’t used to feeling uncertain, especially not after everything he had decided. But now, with Aurora, it felt different. She wasn’t just anyone—she was his oldest friend, someone he cared about deeply. He didn’t want her to see him as a monster.

Aurora’s expression softened as she watched him, sensing his internal struggle. She shifted closer, her hand gently brushing his arm, as if to offer comfort. “Eren, you don’t have to be afraid to tell me,” she said softly. “I know things must’ve changed since we were kids. I know you’ve been through a lot.”

Eren’s heart clenched at her words. The trust in her eyes, the way she looked at him—it was the same as when they were children. Pure, unguarded. And yet, he wasn’t the same boy she had known back then. He had changed—drastically. The weight of his decisions, the path he was on—it was too heavy to share with her.

“I’m not afraid,” Eren said, though his voice betrayed a hint of the doubt gnawing at him. He glanced up, meeting her eyes, and for a moment, he allowed himself to be vulnerable. “I just… I don’t want you to think less of me. I’m not the same person you knew, Aurora. I’ve done things—things you might not understand.”

Aurora’s eyes softened further, her heart aching at the pain in his voice. She had always known Eren as someone strong, someone determined, even as a child. But now, there was a sadness, a weight in his words that hadn’t been there before. She moved even closer, her hand resting on his shoulder.

“Eren, whatever it is, I know you’re doing it for a reason. You’ve always wanted to protect people. I can see that in you, even now.” She paused, her eyes searching his face. “Just tell me. What are you really doing here?”

Eren’s eyes darkened slightly as he looked away, his hand tightening into a fist. He knew he couldn’t hide the truth from her forever. If anyone deserved to know, it was Aurora. But the truth was harsh. Brutal.

“I’m in Marley to destroy it,” he said, his voice hard and flat. The words hung heavy in the air between them, a stark contrast to the calmness of the clearing. “I’m gathering information, preparing for a raid on Liberio. It’s not just a mission, Aurora. It’s a declaration of war.”

Aurora’s breath hitched as she processed his words, her hand falling away from his shoulder. “A declaration of war?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “Eren… what are you talking about?”

Eren looked at her, his gaze intense and unwavering. “The world wants to wipe us out. The rest of humanity—the people outside the walls—they see us as monsters. They’ve blamed us for the Titans, for everything. Marley, the Tyburs, all of them. They’re planning to come after Paradis and finish us off.”

Aurora’s eyes widened, her heart racing as the gravity of the situation began to sink in. “Eren…”

“I can’t let that happen,” Eren continued, his voice growing more resolute. “If we don’t act, they’ll destroy us. They’ll come for our home. For everyone. So I’m here, undercover, waiting for the right moment to strike.”

Aurora sat in stunned silence, her mind reeling from everything Eren had just revealed. A raid on Liberio. A declaration of war. It was all so much—too much to take in at once. But as she looked at him, saw the determination in his eyes. He wasn’t acting out of cruelty or ambition. He was trying to protect his people.

But it still scared her.

“I understand why you’re doing this,” she said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. “But, Eren… all that destruction. Are you sure this is the only way?”

Eren’s gaze softened, but the resolve in his voice remained unshaken. “It’s the only way I know how to protect Paradis. If I don’t act, they’ll come for us. I can’t let that happen. I won’t.”

Aurora nodded slowly, her heart heavy with the weight of his words. She had always valued life, always believed in the sanctity of it. But now, faced with the harsh reality of the world, she realized that sometimes survival came at a cost.

And as much as the thought of war terrified her, she couldn’t turn away from him. Not after finally finding him again. 

“I don’t understand everything, but… I trust you, I always have.”  She whispered, her voice filled with quiet determination. 

Eren’s heart swelled at her words, and for a moment, the burden of his mission didn’t feel quite as heavy. He had been so consumed by his plans, by the weight of the future, that he had forgotten what it felt like to have someone by his side. Aurora’s quiet strength, her unwavering support—it meant more to him than she could ever know.

“Thank you,” he said softly, his voice filled with gratitude. 

Aurora nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

But as Eren studied her petite form, something cold and unsettling began to creep into his thoughts. What was Aurora even doing in Marley in the first place? How did she end up here?

Her body felt frail, too light, and when he looked down, he saw the bruises on her arms, dark and ugly against her skin. Her dress was torn in places, frayed and dirty, and her hands were calloused, signs of hard labor. She had suffered.

Eren pulled back slightly, his eyes scanning her appearance with growing concern. “Aurora… what happened to you?” His voice was quiet, but the anger simmering beneath the surface was palpable. “How did you end up here in Marley? Where are your parents?”

Aurora’s face fell at his words, her body tensing in his arms. She stepped back, her eyes filled with a deep sorrow that Eren hadn’t seen before. She wrapped her arms around herself, her shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world had settled on them.

“My parents…” Her voice cracked, and she looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “They’re gone, Eren. They were taken from me. Just like everything else.”

Eren’s heart sank, and a knot of dread twisted in his stomach. “What do you mean gone? What happened to them?”

Aurora took a deep breath, her hands trembling as she tried to steady herself. “In Shiganshina… we were kidnapped by the Tybur family.”

Eren’s eyes widened in shock. The Tybur family?

“They found us,” Aurora continued, her voice filled with pain. “My father… he had stolen the War Hammer Titan from them. That’s why they came for us. They tracked us down, and the Jaw Titan… the Jaw Titan ripped my father’s limbs off right in front of me, and then they feed him to a pure titan…one of the Tyburs.”

Eren’s blood ran cold. The Tybur family, the Marleyan nobility who wielded the War Hammer Titan—they had been hunting Aurora’s family all this time. And they had found them. His jaw clenched in anger, his fists trembling at the thought of what she must have witnessed, what she must have endured. But what was Aurora’s father doing with the War Hammer Titan in the first place? How did he manage to steal it from them?

“They took me and my mother,” Aurora whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “We were just tools to them, Eldian slaves. They made us work for them, and when my mother got sick… they refused to treat her. They let her die, Eren. They let her die because they didn’t see the point in saving someone like her.”

Eren’s heart shattered at her words. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, the fury boiling inside him threatening to spill over. He wanted to tear the Tybur family apart, to make them suffer for what they had done. For taking Aurora’s family from her. For turning her life into a nightmare.

“Aurora,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He gently cupped her face in his hands, wiping away the tears that streamed down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Aurora shook her head, her lips trembling. “It wasn’t your fault. There was nothing anyone could do. But… I never stopped thinking about you. About the life we had in Shiganshina. You were the only good thing I had.”

Eren’s chest tightened, his heart aching for the girl he had lost all those years ago. “I’m not losing you again,” he said, his voice filled with determination.

His grip tightened around Aurora as her words sent a fresh wave of anger through him. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing with possibilities, calculations, and the growing need to protect her from the nightmare she had endured. There was no way in hell he was letting her go back to that place—to the Tybur family .

“Eren,” Aurora whispered, her voice trembling, her body still shaking from the overwhelming emotions of their reunion. She looked up at him, her ice-blue eyes filled with fear. “I… I have to go back. If I don’t, they’ll come for me. They’ll hunt me down, and… I have nowhere else to go. Nowhere safe.”

Eren’s jaw clenched, his fists trembling with fury. The thought of her returning to that estate, to those monsters , was unbearable. He could imagine her being dragged back into that place, forced to suffer more at the hands of those who had already taken so much from her. The bruises on her skin, the scars, the brokenness in her voice—he couldn’t let her endure it any longer.

“No,” he said, his voice low and hard, filled with an intensity that left no room for argument. “You’re not going back there.”

Aurora’s eyes widened, and she shook her head, panic flashing across her face. “Eren, I have to. You don’t understand. If I don’t return… they’ll think I’ve escaped. They’ll send their guards after me. I won’t be able to hide for long. And… where would I even go? I can’t just disappear.”

Eren gently cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I won’t let that happen,” he said firmly, his voice filled with an unyielding resolve. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again, Aurora. I’ll protect you. I’ll find a way to keep you safe.”

Aurora’s lips quivered, and she lowered her gaze, her hands clutching his jacket as she trembled. “But how?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “How can you protect me here, in Marley? You’re… you’re a soldier. You have a mission. I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

Eren’s heart ached at the sound of her fear, her doubt. He had planned for this—planned to stay in Marley for months, undercover, pretending to be just another wounded soldier suffering from trauma in the internment zone hospital. That cover had been essential to his plan, giving him time to observe, to blend in until the day of the raid arrived. Seven long months, waiting in silence, biding his time.

But now, all of that had changed.

“I’ll figure it out,” Eren said, his voice steady, though his mind raced with possibilities. “I’ll find a way to provide for you. I’ll keep you hidden. No one will know you’re with me.”

Aurora blinked, confusion and uncertainty clouding her face. “But… Eren, how? How can you do that with me here? It’ll put everything at risk.”

“I don’t care,” Eren replied, his voice filled with a dangerous edge. “Plans can change. I can change them. But I’m not letting you go back to that estate. I won’t lose you again.”

Aurora’s lips trembled as she processed his words, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that he could find a way. But the fear of being hunted down by the Tyburs, of being dragged back to that place where she had been nothing but a slave for so long—it paralyzed her.

“Eren…” she whispered, her voice fragile. “They’re powerful. They’re connected. If they find out you’re helping me…”

“I know what I’m doing,” Eren interrupted, his green eyes blazing with determination. “I know how dangerous the Tyburs are. I know what they’re capable of. But I’m not afraid of them. I’m going to destroy them, Aurora. All of them.”

Aurora gasped softly, taken aback by the sheer intensity of his words. She could see the cold fire burning in his eyes, the single-minded focus that had come to define him over the years. He wasn’t the same boy she had known in Shiganshina. He was someone else now—someone darker, someone who was willing to go to unimaginable lengths to achieve his goals. But in that moment, she knew that protecting her had become one of those goals.

“I’ll keep you hidden,” Eren continued, his mind already working through the logistics of what he would need to do. “There are safe places in the internment zone, places where no one looks. I’ll bring you food, clothes—whatever you need. You’ll stay out of sight until the time comes.”

Aurora hesitated, her hands trembling as she clutched his jacket tighter. “But… but what about you? If something happens to you… If they find out who you are…”

“They won’t,” Eren said, his voice hard, unflinching. “They won’t find out. Not until it’s too late.”

He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her protectively, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m not letting you go back to them. You’re with me now. And when the time comes, I’ll take you back to Paradis. You’ll be safe there.”

Aurora’s eyes filled with tears, her chest tightening at the thought of being free— truly free—for the first time in years. The idea of leaving Marley, of escaping the horrors she had endured, was almost too much to hope for. But Eren’s words, his presence, his unwavering determination—they gave her something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hope.

She nodded slowly, her tears spilling over as she leaned into him, burying her face in his chest. “Okay,” she whispered. “I trust you.”

Eren’s grip on her tightened, his heart pounding as he held her close. He had changed, become someone colder, harder—but for Aurora, the girl he had thought he lost all those years ago, there was still a part of him that would never let go. He would protect her, no matter what it took.

And when the time came, the Tybur family—and all of Marley—would pay for what they had done.

Because this time, Eren wasn’t just fighting for freedom.

He was fighting for her .

…

Eren held Aurora’s hand, his grip firm yet gentle as he led her through the winding alleyways of Liberio. His mind raced as they moved, his eyes scanning every corner, every shadow, searching for a place where they could hide—somewhere they wouldn’t be seen, somewhere safe. But with every passing minute, it became more and more apparent that nowhere in the internment zone would be secure enough. Not for them.

He was public enemy number one in Marley—the man who possessed the Founding Titan . And now, Aurora was a runaway slave from the most powerful family in Marley, the Tyburs. Every step they took felt like the weight of the world pressed down on them, and Eren knew the risk. They couldn’t stay somewhere with a lot of people around. They couldn’t trust anyone.

Aurora followed him in silence, her fingers gripping his hand tightly, her fear evident in the way her body trembled beside him. She glanced around nervously, her eyes wide as they darted across the unfamiliar streets. Eren could feel her unease, and it only strengthened his resolve.

They couldn’t afford to be found.

Eren led her through the familiar routes he had scouted during his months undercover, areas of the internment zone he had once thought were safe. But as they approached each potential hiding place, his instincts screamed at him— too open, too exposed . He wasn’t willing to risk it. Not with Aurora.

His thoughts raced as they passed through the outskirts of the zone. The realization slowly crept over him: nowhere here would work. The Tyburs had eyes everywhere, and the Marleyan military wouldn’t hesitate to drag them both back to face whatever punishment they deemed fit.

Aurora kept glancing at him, confusion flickering in her eyes. “Eren, where are we going? What are we going to do?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eren stopped for a moment, his jaw clenching as he considered their options. He couldn’t stay in the internment zone, and he couldn’t take her to any populated area. He needed to think outside of the box—somewhere they could be truly alone. Somewhere isolated.

And then, like a spark in his mind, an idea hit him.

The experiments with Hange.

Back in Paradis, when he was still new to his Titan abilities, Hange had run a series of tests on him to determine the extent of what he could do in his Titan form. During one of those tests, he had successfully constructed a small cabin out of nothing but wood and stone, using his Titan strength and speed. It had taken him less than two hours to complete.

I can do it again.

He turned to Aurora, his gaze intense, though there was a flicker of hesitation behind his eyes. “I know a place,” he said quietly. “But… it’s going to sound a little crazy.”

Aurora furrowed her brow, worry flashing across her face. “What do you mean?”

Eren let out a slow breath, his mind already working through the next steps. He hadn’t told Aurora everything—at least, not yet. He had told her he was a soldier, that he was on a mission to destroy Marley. But there was something bigger, something more dangerous that he had kept hidden. And now, if they were going to survive, he needed to tell her the truth.

He couldn’t lie to her. Not to Aurora.

Eren squeezed her hand gently and turned to face her fully, his eyes locking with hers. “Aurora, there’s something I need to tell you. Something important.”

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes searching his face for answers. “What is it, Eren?”

His heart pounded in his chest, and for a moment, he struggled to find the right words. How could he explain what he was? What he had become? Would she still look at him the same way once she knew the truth?

He took a deep breath. “I’m not just a soldier. I’m… I’m a Titan shifter.”

Aurora blinked, her confusion deepening. “A… a Titan shifter?”

Eren nodded, his voice low and steady. “I can transform into a Titan. I’m the holder of two Titans, actually—the Attack Titan and the Founding Titan .”

Aurora’s eyes widened, shock and disbelief flashing across her face. She stared at him, as if trying to process what he had just said, her mind racing to make sense of it. “You… you’re a Titan?” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Eren swallowed hard, his throat dry. “Yes. I’ve been able to shift into a Titan for years now. That’s why I’m able to fight Marley—why I’m able to destroy them. It’s why I’m here.”

Aurora took a step back, her hands trembling as she stared at him. Eren’s heart clenched at the sight of her reaction, but he pressed on, knowing she needed to hear the full truth.

“I didn’t want to keep this from you,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “But I wasn’t sure how to tell you. My mission… it’s bigger than just me. It’s about freeing our people, freeing Paradis from Marley’s control. And the Founding Titan is the key to that.”

Aurora’s breath hitched, her mind still reeling from the revelation. She had heard of titan shifters, of course. Seen them up close and personal when her father was killed and eaten right in front of her. They were the monsters that haunted every Eldian’s life, the weapons Marley used to subjugate her people. And now, Eren was telling her that he was one of those Titans—one of the most powerful, no less.

But he was still Eren. The boy she had cared for since they were children. The man who had protected her when no one else in the world gave a damn about her. The man who had promised to take her away from this hell.

Aurora’s voice was shaky as she spoke. “So… so what does this mean? What are we going to do now?”

Eren’s gaze softened, and he reached out to gently cup her cheek, his touch steadying her. “It means I’m going to take care of you. We can’t stay here in Liberio. It’s too dangerous. But I can take you somewhere safe. Somewhere isolated, where no one will find us.”

Aurora blinked up at him, still unsure but trusting him nonetheless. “Where?”

Eren’s voice was calm, but there was a determined edge to it. “I’m going to build a cabin for us. Away from here, in the outskirts. Somewhere no one will think to look.”

Aurora’s eyes widened in confusion. “But… how? How can you—”

“I’ve done it before,” Eren interrupted, his voice filled with quiet confidence. “Back in Paradis, during an experiment. I can do it again. In my Titan form, I can build it in less than two hours. It’s the safest option.”

Aurora stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. She didn’t fully understand how it was possible, but the certainty in Eren’s voice, the way he looked at her with such determination—it calmed her fears, if only a little.

“Okay,” she whispered, nodding slowly. “I trust you, Eren.”

Eren’s heart swelled at her words. He had changed so much, hardened by the world, but with Aurora, he still felt something soft, something worth protecting. He wasn’t going to lose her again. He would burn down the world before that happened.

With one last glance around to make sure no one was following them, Eren took Aurora’s hand once more and led her toward the outskirts of the internment zone. It was time to put his plan into action.

And this time, Eren wasn’t just fighting for freedom.

He was fighting for the life he wanted with Aurora, no matter the cost.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

Eren led Aurora deep into the outskirts of Marley, far beyond the prying eyes of soldiers, beyond the crowded internment zones, and into the cover of the dense woods. The further they went, the thicker the trees became, and soon, the city of Liberio was nothing but a distant memory. The air was fresher out here, quieter, as though the chaos of the world couldn’t touch them in this hidden pocket of the earth.

After what felt like hours of walking, they finally arrived at a small clearing near a secluded lake. The water shimmered under the fading sunlight, casting a peaceful glow over the area. The trees surrounding the clearing were tall and dense, providing perfect cover from anyone who might wander too close. It was isolated—just what they needed. And with the abundance of wood around them, Eren knew it was the perfect place to build the cabin.

He stopped, surveying the area with a calculating gaze. This would be their sanctuary, at least for now. He turned to Aurora, who stood by his side, still clutching his hand as if she feared he might disappear.

“This is it,” Eren said quietly, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “We’ll be safe here.”

Aurora looked around, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and uncertainty. The peacefulness of the lake and the towering trees were a stark contrast to the world of violence and war that had consumed her for so long. For a moment, it felt like a dream, too good to be true.

Eren let go of her hand and took a step back, his expression growing more serious. “I need you to stand back, Aurora,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I’m going to transform.”

Aurora blinked in confusion and a hint of fear, her heart skipping a beat. She had heard him say he was a Titan shifter, but the reality of having to witness that hadn’t fully sunk in. “Transform?” she repeated, her voice trembling slightly.

Eren nodded, his green eyes filled with a quiet determination. “I’ll build the cabin in my Titan form. But it’s going to be… intense. Just trust me, okay?”

Aurora hesitated, fear creeping into her chest as she stepped back slowly, watching him with wide, uncertain eyes. “Okay,” she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest.

Eren gave her one last look, his gaze softening as if to reassure her once more. Then, without another word, he bit into his hand, the familiar rush of pain triggering the transformation. A burst of bright, blinding light enveloped the clearing, and the ground shook violently beneath Aurora’s feet.

Aurora gasped, stumbling backward as the sheer force of Eren’s transformation rippled through the air. The trees around them swayed from the impact, and the sound of Eren’s Titan form emerging echoed through the woods. Her breath hitched, her body trembling as she tried to comprehend what she was seeing.

When the light faded and the dust settled, Aurora found herself staring up at Eren’s towering Titan form. He loomed above her, his muscular body casting a long shadow over the clearing, the heat from the transformation still lingering in the air. His skin was rough and hardened, his body massive and intimidating, but his eyes—those piercing green eyes—were the same.

For a moment, Aurora stood frozen, her heart racing as she looked up at the giant before her. Fear gripped her, the sight of such a monstrous figure too overwhelming to process. This was Eren? 

But as her eyes found his, her fear began to fade.

The Titan’s eyes— Eren’s eyes—were locked on her, watching her with an intensity that made her feel seen, even through the layers of hardened flesh and bone. Those green eyes, the ones she had known since childhood, were unmistakable. There was no malice in them, no anger or destruction. Just Eren. The same boy who had played with her in the streets of Shiganshina, the same man who had promised to protect her.

Aurora’s breath steadied as she looked deeper into the Titan’s eyes, the fear that had once gripped her slowly dissipating. This was Eren. No matter what form he took, no matter how terrifying he might seem on the outside, she could see him— really see him—inside.

Her hands stopped shaking, and she took a cautious step forward, her eyes never leaving his. “Eren…” she whispered, her voice soft but filled with wonder. She couldn’t believe it. The power, the strength he wielded—it was incredible. But even in this monstrous form, he was still the same person she had always known.

Eren, unable to speak in his Titan form, simply watched her, his massive form still and calm. He couldn’t tell her how much it meant that she wasn’t afraid, how much her acceptance eased the burden he carried. But he didn’t need to. Aurora could see it in his eyes.

She nodded, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “I’m not scared,” she said quietly. “I trust you.”

Eren’s Titan form nodded slightly, as if acknowledging her words. Then, without further hesitation, he turned toward the trees surrounding the clearing, his massive hands reaching out to pull up the wood and stone he needed to construct the cabin. The sound of trees snapping and stone shifting echoed through the forest as Eren worked quickly, his immense strength making short work of the task.

Aurora stood at a safe distance, watching in awe as Eren built the structure with ease. In less than two hours, the cabin began to take shape—small but sturdy, tucked away within the shelter of the woods and near enough to the lake for water access. It was the perfect hideaway, hidden from the eyes of the world.

As the final piece of wood was placed, Eren stopped, his massive form still for a moment as he looked down at the cabin. He took a step back, the earth trembling beneath him once more. With a deep, rumbling sound, he allowed the Titan form to dissipate, the bright light of the transformation flashing again as his human form emerged from the nape of the Titan.

Eren collapsed to his knees, breathing heavily as the exhaustion of the transformation hit him. He wiped sweat from his brow, his body trembling slightly from the strain of lifting such heavy wood and rocks for two hours straight, but he smiled as he looked at Aurora.

She rushed to his side, her concern for him overriding any lingering awe. “Eren!” she exclaimed, kneeling beside him and gently touching his face. “Are you okay?”

Eren looked up at her, his green eyes filled with warmth despite his exhaustion. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’m just… tired. That took a lot out of me.”

Aurora’s fingers gently traced his cheek, and she smiled softly. “You did it. You built it.”

Eren nodded, glancing over at the cabin. “Yeah. It’s not much, but it’ll keep us safe for now.”

Aurora looked at the small cabin, nestled among the trees, the soft glow of the setting sun casting a golden light over it. It was more than just a cabin—it was a symbol of hope, of survival. And it was something Eren had built for them.

She turned back to him, her heart swelling with gratitude and something deeper. “Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes filled with emotion.

Eren smiled weakly, reaching up to take her hand in his. “I told you I’d protect you,” he said quietly. “And I’ll keep doing it. No matter what.”

Aurora squeezed his hand, her chest tight with emotion. She had seen the power he wielded, the terrifying strength of his Titan form, and yet, more than anything, she had seen Eren —the man who cared for her.

And for the first time in years, Aurora felt safe. Truly safe.

…

Eren worked tirelessly to make sure everything was ready for Aurora. After building the cabin, he set off to gather some simple pieces of furniture. They didn’t need much—just the essentials to get by until the raid. He found an old wooden table and a few chairs in an abandoned building nearby. A couple of lanterns for light and a small stove he’d managed to salvage would keep the cabin warm and functional.

But when it came to the bed, Eren hesitated.

He stared at the single, modest bedframe he’d set aside in the clearing. The thought of Aurora lying on something uncomfortable after everything she’d been through gnawed at him. She had lived years as a slave, deprived of even the most basic comforts. She deserved better than this rough, makeshift life. He could endure any hardship—he had before—but Aurora? He couldn’t bear the thought of her suffering even a moment longer.

Eren’s mind flashed back to the bruises he’d seen on her skin, the weariness in her eyes when he’d found her. How long had it been since she’d slept somewhere she felt safe? Somewhere she could rest without fear or pain? Years, probably. The realization filled him with a renewed sense of purpose.

He’d do whatever it took to give her a place where she could finally feel at peace, even if it was just a small cabin in the middle of nowhere.

When he finally returned to the cabin later that day, Eren carried a mattress he had found, along with blankets and pillows he had carefully selected, all with Aurora in mind. He didn’t need much for himself—he could sleep on the floor, in a chair, or even outside if it came to that. None of that mattered. His only concern was her comfort. He wanted her to have a place where she could finally rest. That was his priority.

As he set up the bed, Eren glanced at Aurora, who was sitting quietly by the window, watching the sunset over the lake. She hadn’t said much since they’d arrived here—there was still so much unspoken between them. Eren could feel the weight of her presence, the way her silence spoke of everything she had been through. He knew he couldn’t push her. He didn’t even know how she felt about him now, not in the way he used to dream about as a child.

They weren’t a couple. Not yet, anyways.

But that wasn’t what mattered right now. Aurora’s safety, her well-being—that was the only thing on his mind. He had always had a crush on her, ever since they were kids, and those feelings had never really faded. In fact, seeing her again now, grown and beautiful, only made those feelings stronger. But this wasn’t the time to think about what he wanted. Not with the mission looming over them, not with Marley’s eyes still searching for them.

Still, as he spread the soft blankets over the bed, his mind drifted. How did she feel? Did she remember their childhood together? Did she remember those small, fleeting moments they shared when they were younger—the way he used to sneak glances at her, how his heart would race when she smiled at him?

Aurora had always been special to him. She was the first person to ever make him feel like he wasn’t alone, like there was more to the world than just the pain of losing what he loved. And now… now that she was back in his life, he felt that old pull, that same longing to protect her, to be by her side.

But he couldn’t risk letting those feelings cloud his judgment. Not now. He would never push her into anything, not with everything she had been through. She deserved to take things at her own pace.

As he stepped back from the bed, Eren cleared his throat. “It’s not much, but…” he gestured to the bed, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “I just wanted you to be comfortable. I don’t really need to sleep in it, so you can take it. I’ll be fine anywhere.”

Aurora turned from the window, her eyes soft as she looked at him. For a moment, she didn’t say anything, just watched him with a tenderness that made Eren’s heart skip a beat. There was something in her gaze—something that reminded him of the way they used to be when they were younger.

“Thank you, Eren,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken gratitude. She looked down at the bed, then back at him. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble for me.”

Eren shook his head. “It’s not trouble. You… you deserve this. After everything you’ve been through.”

Aurora took a step closer to him, her fingers brushing the edge of the blanket. She bit her lip, hesitating before she spoke again. “You’ve already done so much for me. I can’t even begin to repay you.”

Eren frowned slightly, stepping closer to her. “You don’t need to repay me, Aurora. I’m doing this because…” He paused, unsure of how to finish that sentence without revealing too much of the feelings he still held. “Because I care about you. You don’t owe me anything.”

Aurora’s breath hitched, her heart swelling at his words. She had always cared about him, even when they were children. Besides her parents, Eren had been the first person to show her kindness, now the only person who made her feel like she mattered in this cruel world. Seeing him now, grown into a man who still carried the same fierce determination, the same protective instinct, made her heart ache with something deeper.

She wasn’t blind to what he was doing for her. He had so much on his shoulders already—the weight of his mission, the fate of Paradis—and yet, here he was, making her a priority. Protecting her. Making sure she had somewhere safe to rest, something she hadn’t had in years.

And as she looked at him, she realized that the attraction she had felt for him as a child had only grown stronger. It was more than just a childhood crush now. It was something real, something that filled her with warmth and gratitude.

Eren noticed her silence and took a small step back, awkwardly shifting his weight. “I’ll… I’ll let you get some rest. I’m going to keep watch for a bit. Make sure everything’s secure.”

Aurora’s hand reached out, gently grabbing his wrist before he could move away. “Eren…”

He turned back to her, his heart pounding. Her touch was soft, hesitant, but it sent a jolt through him. He looked down at her, searching her face for what she wanted to say.

“Stay,” she whispered, her voice so quiet he almost didn’t hear it. “Just… stay here. You don’t have to sleep outside or on the floor. You’ve already done so much. You should rest too.”

Eren swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He wasn’t sure what to say. The idea of staying there with her, in the same room, was both comforting and terrifying. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t want to overstep. He didn’t want to push things too fast.

But the way Aurora looked at him, the softness in her eyes—it made him feel like maybe, just maybe, she wanted him there too.

“Okay,” he said quietly, nodding. “I’ll stay.”

Aurora smiled softly, and for the first time in years, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. Eren, the boy she had once known, the man she had always admired, was here. He was protecting her, keeping her safe. And as the two of them settled into the cabin, the tension of the outside world seemed to fade away, if only for a little while.

For now, they were safe.

…

As the soft glow of the lantern filled the cabin, Aurora and Eren sat on the edge of the bed, the weight of the unspoken questions between them thickening the air. Aurora's mind raced, struggling to process everything that had happened. She had so many questions, and though she didn’t want to push Eren, there was one thing she needed to understand: how everything had changed.

She had been taken away from Paradis years ago, but now, being back with Eren—seeing the man he had become—she needed to know the truth. What had happened to their home? To the place they grew up in? To him ?

She turned to Eren, her voice soft but filled with urgency. “Eren… what happened? To Paradis? To Shiganshina? What made you come to Marley?” Her fingers nervously toyed with the edge of the blanket. “And… how did you even become a Titan?”

Eren tensed slightly, his expression darkening as memories of that day came flooding back. His green eyes, which had softened in the quiet of the cabin, hardened again as he looked down, struggling to find the words. It wasn’t something he liked talking about. Not even with those closest to him. But Aurora deserved to know. She had been part of his life before everything had turned into a nightmare.

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his messy hair. “It started the day the Colossal and Armored Titans attacked Shiganshina… our home.”

Aurora’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of those terrifying Titans. She had heard whispers of their existence, but she hadn’t known how deeply they had affected Eren’s life. Her eyes remained locked on him as he continued, his voice low and grim.

“They broke down the gate of Wall Maria,” Eren explained, his fists clenching as he relived the memory. “The Colossal Titan—huge, towering over the walls—kicked a hole right through the gate, and then… then the Armored Titan rammed through the inner gate. They let the Titans flood into Shiganshina.”

Aurora’s breath caught in her throat as she pictured it—the peaceful town she once knew, now overrun by monstrous Titans, the walls crumbling, the people screaming. Eren’s words painted a vivid picture in her mind, and her heart ached at the thought of the devastation that had been wrought upon their home.

“People were eaten alive,” Eren continued, his voice cold but steady. “The Titans came pouring in, and we couldn’t stop them. The military wasn’t prepared. Those of us who survived had to retreat behind Wall Rose. We lost everything.”

Aurora felt a lump form in her throat. She had been gone from Paradis for so long that she hadn’t known what had happened after she was taken. She had no idea the destruction had been so great.

Eren’s eyes grew darker, his expression more haunted as he spoke the next words. “My mother, Carla… she didn’t make it.”

Aurora’s breath hitched, her eyes widening in shock. “Your mother…?” she whispered, her voice trembling. She had known Carla well. She remembered her warm smile, the way she had always been so kind to Aurora and her family. Her mother, Nadia, and Carla had been close friends, their families often spending time together before everything changed.

Eren’s voice was thick with emotion as he continued. “She was trapped under the rubble when the Titans came. I tried to save her, but I… I wasn’t strong enough. One of the Titans grabbed her before my eyes and… ate her.”

Aurora’s hand flew to her mouth, her heart shattering at the thought of Carla’s death. She had been so gentle, so full of life. The idea of her being taken by one of those monsters, of Eren having to witness it—it was too much.

“No…” Aurora whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “Eren, I’m so sorry. I… I knew your mother so well. She was so kind, so…” Her voice broke, and she shook her head, trying to fight back the tears. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

Eren nodded, his expression grim but resolved. “It’s something I’ll never forget. It’s why I fight. To make sure no one has to go through that again.”

Aurora could see the pain etched into every word, every memory. She could see how much it had shaped him—turned him into the person he was now. It broke her heart to think of the little boy she had once known, forced to endure so much loss, so much pain.

But there was still more she didn’t understand. How had Eren become a Titan? How had he gone from the boy she once knew to the man sitting beside her now, with the power of the Titans in his hands?

She hesitated, her voice barely a whisper. “But… how did you become a Titan, Eren?”

Eren’s eyes flickered with something darker, something almost bitter. “My dad, Grisha… he was a Titan shifter too. He had the Attack Titan and he passed it down to me.”

He sighed again as he continued, his hands gripping the edge of the bed as he tried to explain. “My father… he injected me with something. A serum that turned me into a Titan. It’s how we pass the power from one shifter to another. After he did that… I transformed into a mindless Titan. And in that form, I… I ate him.”

Aurora’s eyes widened in horror, her heart racing as she tried to process the weight of what Eren had just said. He had eaten his own father? The thought sent a chill down her spine, but she could see how much it pained Eren to admit it. It wasn’t something he had chosen—it was something forced upon him by the circumstances of their world.

Eren’s gaze remained distant, his voice low and filled with regret. “That’s how I got both the Attack Titan and the Founding Titan. My father stole the Founding Titan from the royal family, and he passed that power to me too. Now… now it’s all on me to finish what he started.”

Aurora sat in stunned silence, her heart heavy with the weight of everything Eren had been through. He had lost so much—his mother, his home, his childhood. And on top of that, he had been forced to bear the burden of two of the most powerful Titans in existence. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how much that had cost him.

Tears filled her eyes as she reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm. “Eren… I’m so sorry. I had no idea… no idea what you’ve been through.”

Eren looked at her, his green eyes softening as he met her gaze. There was a sadness there, a deep, unspoken pain that ran through him, but there was also something else—something that connected them. He hadn’t told anyone about Aurora when she disappeared. He had kept her memory locked away, something too precious to share. And now that she was here, in front of him, the weight of everything seemed just a little bit lighter.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he said quietly, placing his hand over hers. “It’s just the way things are. But… I’m glad you’re here now. It’s like… I didn’t lose everything.”

Aurora’s chest tightened at his words, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. She had been taken away, forced into a life of suffering and isolation, but in the end, they had found each other again. And even in the midst of all the pain and darkness, there was a small light between them.

“I’m glad I found you too,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “I always thought about you, Eren. Even after I was taken away… you were always in my thoughts.”

Eren’s heart swelled at her words, and for the first time in what felt like years, he allowed himself to feel something other than anger or grief. He didn’t know what the future held—didn’t know if he would live to see the world he dreamed of—but for now, with Aurora beside him, he felt like maybe there was something worth fighting for beyond the war.

Something more than vengeance.

Something like hope.

Eren sighed deeply, running a hand through his messy hair as he stared at the floor, collecting his thoughts. Aurora’s gentle presence beside him made him want to share everything he’d been holding back for so long, all the struggles and decisions that had brought him to this moment.

“When you left…” Eren began, his voice low and steady, “it felt like a part of me disappeared too. I didn’t understand why you were gone, and no one had any answers. After a while, I stopped asking. I guess I tried to move on, but… it wasn’t easy.”

Aurora’s heart ached as she listened to him. She had never imagined the impact her sudden disappearance would have had on him. She had been taken against her will, but she had never stopped thinking about him either.

“I didn’t really have friends after that,” Eren continued, his gaze distant as he spoke. “But then I met Armin. He was always this quiet, bookish kid, but he had dreams. Big dreams. He used to talk about the world beyond the walls, about the ocean, the deserts, the snow-capped mountains. At first, I thought he was crazy, but… his dreams kind of stuck with me. He made me believe there was more to life than just surviving inside those walls.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Eren’s lips, though it was tinged with sadness. “And then, when I was nine, I met Mikasa. My father had gone to check on her family, but when he didn’t come back, I went after him. I found Mikasa’s parents dead… they were killed by traffickers. I… I killed two of the men who did it. Mikasa killed the third after I told her to fight back.”

Aurora’s eyes widened as she listened, shocked by the brutality of it all. But there was something about the way Eren spoke—his voice was filled with a fierce protectiveness for the people in his life, even when he had been just a child.

“Mikasa became part of our family after that. She’s strong—stronger than anyone I know, really. But she’s… complicated.” Eren hesitated, glancing briefly at Aurora before continuing. “She’s been with me ever since, and so has Armin. We joined the military together. I didn’t have much of a choice after Wall Maria fell. I needed to fight back. I had to protect what was left.”

Aurora nodded slowly, her mind racing as she absorbed the details of Eren’s life after she had been taken. She hadn’t been there to witness any of it, but she could feel the weight of those years in his voice. He had been through so much—more than she could have ever imagined.

“I joined the Scouts,” Eren continued, his voice taking on a more somber tone. “The Survey Corps. We’re Humanity’s last hope, or at least that’s what they called us. The ones willing to go beyond the walls and face the Titans head-on. I thought… maybe I could make a difference. Maybe we could reclaim what we lost.”

Aurora could hear the strain in his voice as he spoke, the way his dreams had been beaten down by the harsh realities of war. She had heard stories of the Scouts, of their courage and sacrifice, but hearing Eren talk about it—about being part of it—made it feel more real. More tragic.

“But it was more than just fighting Titans,” Eren continued, his jaw clenching slightly. “I realized pretty quickly that the real enemy wasn’t just the Titans. It was the world. The rest of humanity—the people outside the walls. Marley, and every nation that wanted us dead.”

Eren paused for a moment, as if deciding how much to say. Aurora watched him closely, her heart pounding in her chest. There was something dark lurking behind his words, something that weighed heavily on his conscience.

“That’s why we came to Marley in the first place,” Eren explained. “The Scouts originally came here for a summit. It was supposed to be about protecting the subjects of Ymir—the Eldians like us, scattered across the world. Commander Hange was leading the mission, trying to find a way to stop the world from wiping us out. I thought… maybe there was a chance. Maybe we could find some way to make peace.”

Eren’s voice grew harder, more bitter, as he continued. “But it didn’t take long for me to realize that wasn’t going to happen. The world doesn’t want peace with us. They want to destroy us. I heard them talk about Paradis like we were monsters. They blamed us for the Titans, for everything. And they were planning to wipe us out—just like that.”

Aurora’s breath caught in her throat as she listened, her hands gripping the edge of the bed. The fear she had felt for years, the fear of what Marley would do to her and her people, was echoed in Eren’s words. But there was something even more terrifying about the way Eren spoke now—like he had already accepted the brutal reality of the world’s hatred.

“So I broke away from them,” Eren said, his voice low and cold. “I couldn’t wait for Hange or the others to act. If I didn’t do something, they’d slaughter us like pigs. We’d all be dead. So I started my own plans… plans for the Rumbling.”

Aurora’s eyes widened in shock. “The Rumbling?” she whispered, barely able to comprehend what he was saying.

Eren nodded, his green eyes intense as he looked at her. “Yeah. The Rumbling. If I unleash the Titans within the walls, the ones that make up the walls themselves, they’ll flatten everything in their path. The whole world. It’s the only way to keep Paradis safe. If we don’t act, they’ll come for us. And I can’t let that happen. I won’t.”

Aurora’s heart pounded in her chest, fear and disbelief swirling inside her. She had no idea that there even were Titans hidden within the walls, and the idea of Eren using them to destroy the world—it was terrifying. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw the fierce determination, the desperation driving him. He wasn’t doing this out of cruelty or malice. He was doing it because he believed there was no other way.

“Eren…” Aurora whispered, her voice trembling. “Are you sure? Is this really the only way?”

Eren’s gaze softened slightly, but the resolve remained. “I’ve thought about it over and over again. I’ve tried to find another way, but every time… it comes back to this. If we don’t act, we’ll die. All of us. And I can’t let that happen. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

Aurora felt a lump in her throat as she listened to him. She could see how much he had changed, how much the weight of the world had pressed down on him. He wasn’t the same boy she had known all those years ago—he was a man now, carrying the burden of an entire people on his shoulders.

But despite everything, despite the darkness that surrounded them, Aurora couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of admiration for him. He had been through so much, fought so hard, and even now, with the world against him, he was still trying to protect those he cared about.

She reached out, gently placing her hand on his arm. “Eren… I’m with you,” she whispered, her voice soft but filled with determination. “Whatever happens, I’ll be by your side. I trust you.”

Eren’s eyes softened as he looked at her, the tension in his body easing slightly at her words. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear that—how much it meant to him that she still believed in him, even after everything he had told her.

“Thank you, Aurora,” he said quietly, his voice filled with gratitude. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but… knowing you’re here, it makes it easier.”

Aurora smiled softly, her heart swelling with warmth. No matter what came next—no matter how dark the path ahead seemed—she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t going to turn away from Eren.

…

Night had fallen over the cabin, and the quiet of the forest wrapped around them like a blanket. The only sounds were the soft rustling of leaves outside and the occasional crackle from the small fire Eren had built to keep the cabin warm. Aurora lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, her mind restless despite the comforting quiet.

She glanced over to the side of the bed, where Eren sat in a wooden chair, his arms folded and his head resting against his shoulder. He had insisted on sleeping there, even though she had told him it was okay to share the bed for comfort. But, stubborn as ever, Eren had refused. He wanted her to have space, to feel safe. It wasn’t about his comfort—it was about hers.

He always puts others before himself.

Aurora knew that sleeping in that chair couldn’t have been comfortable for him, not after everything he’d been through. She had watched him push himself to his limits today, transforming into his Titan form, building the cabin, and then gathering the furniture to make sure she had what she needed. And now, here he was, insisting on sitting in that hard, uncomfortable chair, keeping watch over her.

He’s so strong, she thought to herself, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. And yet, he’s gentle with me.

Eren had been through so much—more than she could comprehend. And yet, despite the weight of the world pressing down on him, despite his grim determination to destroy their enemies, he still cared. He still looked at her with the same warmth he had when they were children.

But Aurora couldn’t sleep. The weight of their conversation earlier still lingered in her mind. Eren had been honest with her—he had told her everything about the Rumbling, his plan to use the Titans within the walls to destroy Marley, to protect Paradis. The idea of it filled her with waves of anxiety. The thought of so much destruction, so many lives lost, horrified her.

She was a pacifist. She valued life above all else, just like her mother had taught her. Even after everything that had been done to her, she had never wanted to see others suffer. The idea of Eren unleashing the Titans to flatten entire cities, to wipe out innocent people… it made her heart ache.

But at the same time, Aurora understood why he was doing it. The world had turned its back on them, on the Eldians. Eren wasn’t doing this out of cruelty—he was doing it because he believed it was the only way to save their people. To save her . And as much as she feared the Rumbling, she couldn’t ignore the truth in his words. If he did nothing, if Eren didn’t act, they would all be slaughtered.

She let out a soft sigh, turning her head slightly to look at Eren’s sleeping form. He was the first person in years to show her any kindness, to care about her since her parents had died. After losing them, no one had cared about her. She had been used and abused, forced into a life of suffering and pain. She had been on the brink of despair, ready to give up.

But then fate had intervened, and Eren had found her.

He had pulled her out of that darkness, brought her back into the light. He had shown her that she mattered, that her life had meaning. Eren hadn’t just saved her from the Tybur family—he had given her a reason to keep going.

How could I ever turn away from him? she thought to herself, her heart aching with the weight of her feelings. How could I turn away from the one person in the world who truly cares about me?

She knew Eren’s plan was terrifying. She knew the consequences of the Rumbling would be catastrophic. But Eren… Eren was the only person who had made her feel safe, who had treated her with kindness, who had fought to protect her. How could she turn her back on him because of his plans, when he was fighting for their survival?

Aurora closed her eyes, her mind swirling with thoughts of the future. She cared about him—more than she had realized until now. Eren wasn’t just her childhood friend anymore. He was so much more than that. She wasn’t blind to what he had become, to the weight of the choices he had made. But underneath it all, she saw the boy she had once known. The boy who had always wanted to protect those he cared about.

I can’t leave him, she thought to herself. I won’t.

No matter what happened, no matter how dark the path ahead seemed, Aurora knew she couldn’t turn away from Eren. He had been her light in the darkness, her anchor when she had been adrift in a sea of pain. And now, more than ever, he needed someone by his side. Someone who believed in him, despite the impossible choices he had to make.

With that thought, Aurora shifted slightly in bed, her eyes still on Eren. She didn’t know what the future held, but she knew one thing for certain—she wouldn’t abandon him. Not now. Not ever.

“Thank you, Eren,” she whispered softly, her voice barely audible in the quiet cabin. “For everything.”

Though Eren was fast asleep, the words carried the weight of her gratitude and something more—something deeper. Something that had always been there, quietly growing over the years they had been apart.

I’ll stay with you. No matter what.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

The weeks passed in a blur of quiet routine and mounting tension. Eren continued his covert mission, moving carefully through Marley, gathering information discreetly. Each day, he would slip out of the cabin early in the morning, blending into the bustling streets of Liberio or the military camps, his mind focused on the plan for the Rumbling. He met with contacts, listened in on military briefings, and pieced together the details he needed for the impending raid.

But no matter where his mission took him during the day, Eren always returned to the cabin in the woods by nightfall. To Aurora.

The small cabin had become their sanctuary, hidden away from the rest of the world. Aurora tended to it while Eren was gone, making it feel more like a home with each passing day. She had started a garden in the back, planting herbs and vegetables she had foraged from the surrounding woods. It wasn’t much, but it gave her something to focus on, something to nurture.

The days were quiet and peaceful, a far cry from the life she had known as a slave for the Tybur family. But the skills she had honed during those years—the cooking, the cleaning, the gardening—now served her and Eren well. Aurora made sure the cabin was always tidy, the bed made, and the small space felt warm and inviting when Eren returned. It was a simple life, but it was theirs.

Aurora had also begun to forage and fish in the nearby lake, collecting wild berries, mushrooms, and small fish that she used to prepare meals. She had grown talented at making something out of nothing, using the few ingredients they had to create delicious meals. It wasn’t much, but for Eren, it tasted like gourmet.

Every evening when he returned, exhausted and weighed down by the burdens of his mission, Aurora would be there, waiting with a warm meal and a soft smile. She would serve him whatever she had prepared that day, and Eren would eat in silence, his eyes occasionally drifting to her, filled with something he didn’t quite know how to put into words.

The meals she made—simple stews, roasted fish, wild herbs mixed with rice—were the best Eren had ever tasted. It wasn’t just the food itself, though it was clear that Aurora had a talent for cooking. It was the care she put into it, the way she made sure he had something to eat after long days of working in the shadows, always watching his back, always moving with the knowledge that Marley could discover him at any moment.

“Thank you,” Eren would say quietly after every meal, his voice soft but filled with genuine appreciation.

Aurora would smile at him, her heart warming at the simple act of sharing these moments with him. “You’re welcome, Eren,” she would reply, her voice gentle. She didn’t need to say more—her actions spoke for themselves.

Despite the tension that surrounded them, despite the ever-present danger of discovery, these moments in the cabin felt almost… peaceful. Eren would sit at the small wooden table, his body tired but his mind somehow lighter in Aurora’s presence. The weight of the world, of his plans, didn’t feel so crushing when he was here, when she was beside him.

As the weeks passed, Aurora found herself slipping into a rhythm—cooking, tending to the garden, foraging for food, and waiting for Eren to come home. It was a far cry from the life she had known in the Tybur household, where she had been worked to the bone, her every movement watched, her every action scrutinized. But here, she had the freedom to work at her own pace, to put her skills to use for someone who appreciated her.

Aurora had always been talented with her hands. She had done everything in the Tybur mansion—cooking, cleaning, laundry, sewing, even tending to their massive gardens. They had worked her like a dog, treating her as nothing more than a tool to keep their household running. But now, those skills were coming in handy. Now, she was using them to build something of her own. Something for her and Eren.

She found solace in the work. The garden she had started was beginning to bear fruit, small but meaningful signs of growth. Each time she plucked a ripe vegetable or caught a fish from the lake, she felt a quiet sense of accomplishment. It was a small victory, but it meant the world to her.

And Eren… he noticed. He always noticed.

One evening, as they sat together after dinner, the soft glow of the lantern casting warm light over the cabin, Eren looked at Aurora, his green eyes thoughtful.

“You’ve made this place feel like home,” he said quietly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

Aurora glanced at him, her heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his voice. “I just wanted to make things easier for you,” she replied, her hands folding in her lap. “You’re out there every day… doing so much. I thought if I could make this place… a little more comfortable, it would help.”

Eren’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight of his mission seemed to lift from his shoulders. “It does,” he admitted. “More than you know.”

Aurora’s chest tightened with emotion. She had been through so much—lost so much. The world had been cruel to her, stripping away everything she cared about. But here, with Eren, things felt different. He cared about her. He valued her. And she found herself caring about him more deeply with each passing day.

They sat together in the quiet, the flickering light casting shadows on the walls, and Aurora couldn’t help but think about how much her life had changed since Eren had come back into it. She had been on the brink of despair, ready to give up on any hope of a better life. But Eren had saved her—not just from the Tybur family, but from the darkness that had threatened to consume her.

He had given her something she hadn’t had in years: a sense of belonging.

And despite the terror she felt about his plans for the Rumbling, despite the anxiety that twisted her stomach when she thought about the destruction he would unleash, she couldn’t turn away from him. Eren was the one person in the world who had shown her kindness, who had made her feel like she mattered. She couldn’t walk away from him—not now, not after everything they had been through.

Aurora looked at him, her voice soft but filled with conviction. “Eren… no matter what happens, I’m here with you. I want you to know that.”

Eren’s eyes met hers, and for a brief moment, the intensity in his gaze softened into something more vulnerable. He didn’t say anything, but the look he gave her said it all.

Thank you.

They sat in comfortable silence, the warmth of the cabin surrounding them, as the world outside continued to prepare for the storm that was coming. But for now, in this moment, they had each other.

And that was enough.

…

The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the secluded clearing where Aurora and Eren had made their temporary home. The air was warm, and a gentle breeze stirred the leaves of the trees, rustling softly around them. Aurora knelt in the small garden she had started behind the cabin, her fingers working gently in the soil as she carefully tended to the herbs and vegetables she had planted.

She loved this part of the day, the calmness of working with her hands, the scent of fresh earth and growing plants filling her senses. It reminded her of the times she had spent with her mother back in Shiganshina. Nadia had been a skilled herbalist, and Aurora had learned everything she could from her—how to mix herbs for remedies, how to recognize plants that could heal, and how to nurture life from the soil.

Those memories were bittersweet now, especially after everything she had lost, but gardening brought her peace. And it was something useful she could do here, to make their small haven feel more like a home. She thought of how her skills in herbalism might be able to help Eren more. Perhaps she could gather herbs and create elixirs that might relieve the exhaustion Eren must feel after long days of gathering intelligence and preparing for his mission.

Aurora’s thoughts wandered as she dug gently around the roots of a small plant, her mind on Eren as she worked. She wanted to be more useful to him, to contribute to the fight in any way she could. She wasn’t a soldier—she wasn’t like him, trained in combat and strategy—but her mother had always said that healing was its own kind of strength.

As she worked, her gaze drifted toward Eren, who was standing a few yards away, chopping firewood for the cabin. He had removed his shirt in the heat, and his hair was tied back in a loose bun, leaving strands to frame his face. Sweat glistened on his skin as he swung the axe with precision, the muscles in his arms and chest rippling with each powerful movement.

Aurora’s heart skipped a beat as she watched him, her cheeks growing warm. She quickly looked away, embarrassed by the way her thoughts had strayed, but she couldn’t help sneaking another glance. There was something about seeing him like this—focused, strong, unguarded in a way that made her stomach flutter. She had known Eren as a boy, but the man in front of her was different. He was powerful, determined, and even though she knew the weight he carried, there was a certain gentleness in the way he always treated her.

She tried to focus on the herbs in front of her, but her eyes kept drifting back to him. The way his muscles tensed as he lifted the axe, the steady rhythm of his movements. The heat from the sun didn’t help either—her face was burning, and she wasn’t entirely sure it was from the temperature.

Stop staring, she chastised herself silently, feeling her pulse quicken. But even as she scolded herself, she couldn’t stop her gaze from wandering back to him. There was something magnetic about Eren, something that made it hard to look away.

Suddenly, Eren paused in his work, the axe still raised in his hand. He turned his head slightly, glancing in her direction—and their eyes met.

Aurora’s heart leaped into her throat, and she quickly looked down at the dirt in front of her, pretending to be absorbed in her work. But the moment was already gone. She could still feel the intensity of his gaze, and she knew that Eren had seen her watching him.

Eren’s heart skipped a beat as well. He hadn’t meant to catch her off guard, but something about the way she had been looking at him made his chest tighten. The softness in her eyes, the way her cheeks flushed when their gazes met—he couldn’t deny the effect it had on him. He had always cared about Aurora, ever since they were kids, but now… now it was different.

He wasn’t sure what to do with these feelings. There was too much at stake, too much on the line for him to focus on anything other than the mission. But seeing her there, working in the garden, her hair glowing in the sunlight, the peacefulness she brought to this otherwise grim situation—it was hard to ignore the pull he felt toward her.

Eren cleared his throat and resumed chopping the firewood, though his movements were a bit more distracted now. His mind wandered back to the look on Aurora’s face, the way her eyes had softened when she watched him. It wasn’t the first time he had caught her sneaking glances at him over the past few weeks, but it was the first time he had allowed himself to linger on the thought.

For a moment, he lost himself in the rhythm of chopping wood, trying to focus on the task at hand. But his thoughts kept drifting back to her—how she had become his safe haven in a world that was crumbling around him.

Aurora, still feeling the heat of embarrassment, decided to focus on her work as well. She bent over her garden, pulling a few weeds and checking the progress of the plants. But her heart wouldn’t stop pounding in her chest. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way Eren had looked at her. He had always been so composed, so focused on his mission, but for a fleeting moment, she thought she saw something else in his eyes—something softer, something just for her.

No, it’s just my imagination, she told herself. Eren has so much on his shoulders… there’s no way he’d think about me like that.

Still, as she stole another glance at him from beneath her lashes, she couldn’t help but wonder.

Eren raised the axe again, bringing it down with a sharp thud, splitting another piece of firewood cleanly in two. The rhythmic motion of chopping wood usually helped him focus, allowed him to clear his head and concentrate on the mission ahead. But today, it wasn’t working. No matter how many times he swung the axe, his thoughts kept drifting back to her .

Aurora.

He stole a quick glance over his shoulder at her, kneeling in the garden, her fingers gently pulling weeds and tending to the plants she had so carefully nurtured. The sunlight caught in her long, platinum blonde hair, and her soft features looked peaceful as she worked. She was beautiful—there was no denying that—and each time Eren saw her, it became harder and harder to ignore the growing feelings tugging at his heart.

But he couldn’t afford to be distracted. Not now. Not with everything on the line.

Focus, he told himself, gritting his teeth as he brought the axe down again. Another log split in two, but even as he worked, his mind wandered back to the conversation they had had about her father.

Aurora had told him that her father, Clive, had stolen the War Hammer Titan from the Tybur family, a fact that had taken Eren by surprise when he first heard it. The War Hammer Titan was one of the Nine, an elusive power that had remained hidden within the Tybur family for years. Eren had done some digging into it, trying to find any record of Clive or his theft of the Titan, but every lead had come up cold.

There were no records of her father. No records of her mother, Nadia. Not even Aurora herself. It was as if the Tybur family had erased their existence entirely.

But why?

The Tyburs were one of the most powerful families in Marley, and their influence ran deep through its political and military structures. It wasn’t surprising that they could cover up something like this, but the question that nagged at Eren was why they had gone to such lengths to keep Aurora’s family hidden. What were they trying to protect? Or more importantly, what were they trying to keep secret?

He wiped the sweat from his brow, his thoughts churning as he continued to chop the wood. The Tyburs were already a critical piece of his plan—he needed the War Hammer Titan to solidify his power, to make sure Paradis had the strength to face the world. But Aurora’s connection to them, her family’s history with the War Hammer, had complicated things. There was more to this than he had originally thought, and Eren couldn’t shake the feeling that Aurora’s past might be more entwined with his mission than he realized.

The sound of her soft humming brought him back to the present, and Eren paused, lowering the axe for a moment as he turned to look at her again. She was smiling, her fingers gently brushing the leaves of the plants she had grown. There was a quiet joy in her work, a peace that seemed to radiate from her even in this chaotic world.

Eren clenched his jaw, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions. He didn’t want to pull her into the darkness of his plans, into the inevitable bloodshed that lay ahead. Aurora had already suffered so much—losing her parents, being taken as a slave by the Tyburs. She deserved peace, not more violence.

But he also couldn’t ignore the questions swirling in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Aurora might hold answers—answers that could change the course of his mission.

“Eren?”

Her voice pulled him from his thoughts, and Eren blinked, realizing that he had been standing there, gripping the axe tightly in his hands, lost in his own head.

Aurora was looking at him now, concern flickering in her ice-blue eyes. “Are you okay?”

He nodded quickly, trying to shake off the tension that had built up in his chest. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, his voice a little rougher than he intended. He set the axe down, walking toward her. “Just… thinking.”

Aurora tilted her head slightly, studying him. She could sense there was something on his mind, something deeper than just the mission. She had always been able to read him, even when they were kids.

“About what?” she asked gently, sitting back on her heels as she wiped her hands on her dress.

Eren hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to tell her. He didn’t want to burden her with more than she was already carrying. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Aurora deserved to know the truth. She was part of this now, whether he liked it or not.

“Your father,” Eren said quietly, stepping closer. “And the War Hammer Titan.”

Aurora’s expression faltered slightly, her eyes darkening with the mention of her father. It had been painful for her to talk about him, about the loss she had suffered. But she nodded, urging him to continue.

“I’ve been looking into it,” Eren continued, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke. “Trying to find any information on him—on your family. But there’s nothing. It’s like you don’t exist. No records, no reports. The Tybur family… they’ve made sure you all stayed a secret.”

Aurora’s breath caught, and she lowered her gaze to the ground. “That doesn’t surprise me,” she said softly. “After they took me and my mother, they made sure we were hidden away. We weren’t allowed to leave the estate. They didn’t want anyone knowing who we were.”

“But why?” Eren asked, his voice tense. “Why go to such lengths to keep your family hidden? They have the War Hammer Titan—what are they so afraid of?”

Aurora shook her head, her voice quiet. “I don’t know. My father… he never talked about it. He was always so careful, always on edge. I didn’t even know about the War Hammer Titan until the Tyburs came for us. He kept everything from me.”

Eren frowned, his mind racing as he tried to piece it all together. There had to be something more, something the Tyburs were hiding. But until he could get his hands on the War Hammer Titan himself, he wouldn’t have the full picture.

Aurora looked up at him, her gaze filled with uncertainty. “Do you think… do you think my father was part of something bigger? Something the Tyburs didn’t want anyone to know?”

Eren’s jaw clenched, and he nodded slowly. “Maybe. But whatever it was, it’s tied to the War Hammer Titan. And I’m going to find out what it is.”

Aurora’s eyes searched his, and for a moment, the weight of their shared past and uncertain future hung between them. There were so many unanswered questions, so many dangers still looming ahead. But despite it all, there was a quiet strength in the way they stood together, a bond that had survived the years and the distance.

Eren reached out, resting his hand on her shoulder, his voice softer now. “We’ll figure it out, Aurora. Together.”

Aurora nodded, her heart swelling at the reassurance in his words. She didn’t know what the future held, but as long as she had Eren by her side, she knew they could face whatever came next.

And as they stood together in the dappled sunlight, the weight of their pasts felt a little lighter.

…

The cabin was quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fire burning in the hearth. Eren and Aurora sat together at the small wooden table, their plates filled with the simple but delicious meal Aurora had prepared. They had fallen into a comfortable routine over the past few months—Eren leaving at sunrise for his mission, gathering intelligence in Marley, and returning just before sunset to the warmth of the cabin and the comfort of Aurora’s presence. But lately, the air between them had shifted.

There was a tension, a charged energy that neither of them could quite put into words. Unspoken feelings lingered between every glance, every shared moment. Eren felt it every time Aurora smiled at him, every time their hands brushed by accident as they sat together. He knew she felt it too—he could see it in the way her eyes lingered on him just a little too long, in the way her cheeks flushed when they spoke.

Tonight, as they sat across from each other, the silence felt heavier than usual. Eren picked up his fork, but his mind wasn’t on the food. He kept glancing at Aurora, watching the way the firelight flickered across her face, casting soft shadows on her features. She had changed so much since they were children, but there were still glimpses of the girl he had once known—the same girl who had captivated him all those years ago.

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Do you remember… the first time we met?” he asked, his voice quiet but filled with a warmth that came from the memory.

Aurora looked up from her plate, her ice-blue eyes meeting his. A small smile tugged at her lips, and she nodded. “Of course I remember,” she said softly, her voice like a melody. “I was five, and you were six. My mother took me to your house to visit your mom. She and Carla were such good friends.”

Eren smiled faintly, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah. My mom was so excited for me to meet you. She kept saying how I needed more friends.” He chuckled softly, his green eyes softening as he remembered the day. “When you walked in, I couldn’t stop staring at your eyes.”

Aurora’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she ducked her head, a bit embarrassed by the compliment. “I was so shy back then,” she admitted, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her plate. “But you… you made me feel comfortable. You weren’t like the other kids. You actually wanted to talk to me.”

Eren’s smile grew. “You had this adventurous spirit,” he said, his voice tinged with admiration. “Even when you were shy, you were curious about everything. I liked that about you. I remember you weren’t afraid to try new things.”

Aurora looked up at him again, a warmth spreading through her chest at his words. It had been so long since she had thought about those carefree days in Shiganshina. Back when they were just children, playing in the streets, climbing trees, and exploring the world around them as if it was a grand adventure. Eren had always been so bold, always pushing her to try new things, and she had admired him for that.

“I wanted to keep hanging out with you,” Eren continued, his voice softer now. “So we played together every single day after that. We’d run around Shiganshina like we owned the place. You were my first real friend, Aurora. I’ve never forgotten that.”

Aurora’s heart tightened at his words, a pang of sadness hitting her as she thought back to the day everything had changed. She had only been seven when her family had disappeared from Shiganshina, taken by the Tyburs. She hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye to Eren. One day she was there, and the next, she was gone, ripped away from the life she had known. From the friends she had made. From Eren.

“I didn’t want to leave,” Aurora whispered, her voice barely audible. “I didn’t even know what was happening. One moment, everything was normal, and then…” She trailed off, her eyes glazing over as the painful memories resurfaced.

Eren’s jaw clenched as he listened, his heart aching for her. He had never known what had happened to Aurora back then. She had simply vanished, leaving a void in his life that no one else could fill. For years, he had thought about her, wondered where she had gone, what had happened to her. And now, knowing the truth—that she had been taken, that she had suffered so much—it made him sick with anger.

“Aurora,” Eren said quietly, his voice filled with a deep, unshakable resolve. “I’m going to give you a life of freedom. Not fear. You’ve been through so much, more than anyone should ever have to. But that adventurous spirit you had—it’s still there. I can see it. And I’m going to help you get it back.”

Aurora’s eyes widened slightly as she looked at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She hadn’t expected him to say something like that, but the sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at her with such intensity—it made her feel something she hadn’t felt in years. Hope.

“Eren…” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “You’ve already done so much for me. You saved me from the Tyburs, you’ve given me a home here. I don’t even know how to thank you for that.”

Eren shook his head, leaning forward slightly, his eyes locking onto hers. “You don’t need to thank me,” he said firmly. “I’m doing this because I care about you. I always have.”

Aurora’s breath caught in her throat, her cheeks flushing as the weight of his words settled over her. The tension between them, the unspoken feelings that had been building for weeks, suddenly felt palpable. She could feel her heart racing, the air between them charged with something more than just friendship.

“I care about you too, Eren,” Aurora whispered, her voice barely audible. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the words slipped out before she could stop them.

Eren’s heart skipped a beat at her words, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He had always cared about her—since the day they met, since they had played together in the streets of Shiganshina. But now, it was different. Now, it wasn’t just the boyhood crush he had once felt. It was something deeper. Something stronger.

But the weight of his mission pressed down on him, reminding him of everything that still lay ahead. The raid on Liberio, the War Hammer Titan, the Rumbling—it all loomed over him like a dark cloud. He couldn’t afford to get distracted, couldn’t afford to let his feelings get in the way of what needed to be done.

Still, as he looked at Aurora, sitting across from him with that same quiet strength she had always had, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe… just maybe, there was still room for something more. Something worth fighting for, beyond the destruction and the war.

He reached across the table, his hand gently resting on top of hers. “When this is all over,” Eren said softly, his voice filled with a quiet promise, “I’m going to make sure you have the life you deserve. A life where you’re free to do whatever you want. Where no one can ever take that from you again.”

Aurora looked down at their hands, her heart swelling with emotion. She didn’t know what the future held—didn’t know if they would survive the storm that was coming. But in this moment, with Eren’s hand on hers, she felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hope.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

The evening sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow through the small windows of the cabin. Inside, Aurora sat at the wooden table, carefully examining the small vial of elixir she had just finished creating. She held it up to the light, the amber liquid catching the sunlight. It had taken her weeks to perfect, carefully gathering herbs from the surrounding forest and cataloging their properties in the notebook that lay open beside her.

Aurora had always loved herbalism, a passion passed down from her mother. But now, in the quiet safety of the cabin, she had been able to immerse herself in it fully. This elixir was meant for Eren—something to help with the fatigue he faced after long days of covert operations. He was pushing himself too hard, she could see that. The weight of the world rested on his shoulders, and though he never complained, Aurora could tell how exhausted he was every time he returned.

A soft smile played on her lips as she corked the vial and set it carefully on the table. She had finally done it. This would help him. She could picture the look on his face when she handed it to him, the way his green eyes would soften in gratitude, even though he’d probably insist he didn’t need it.

She glanced out the window, her heart giving a small, fluttering beat. He should be back soon, she thought. Eren always returned just before sunset, like clockwork. Even though he was focused on his mission, he always made time to come back to her.

The cabin had become their sanctuary—quiet, safe, tucked away from the rest of the world. But as much as Aurora enjoyed the peace, there was always a small undercurrent of fear. The danger was ever-present, lurking just outside the boundaries of their small world.

As she began tidying up the table, her mind drifted to thoughts of Eren. She missed him during the day, missed the sense of security he brought just by being near. She glanced down at the notebook filled with her notes on the plants she’d discovered, and for a brief moment, she let herself dream of a future where they could live without fear. A future where Eren wouldn’t have to fight, where they could just… exist.

Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed through the cabin, shattering the peaceful silence.

Aurora froze, her heart instantly pounding in her chest. Her first thought was Eren, but no— that wasn’t how he knocked . Eren always knocked twice, softly. This knock was harsh, loud, and unfamiliar.

Fear surged through her, and she quickly stood, her eyes darting to the door. She wasn’t expecting anyone. No one knew about this cabin except for Eren. She reached for the vial of elixir, gripping it tightly in her hand, as if it could offer some sort of protection.

Another knock—this time more forceful, rattling the door on its hinges.

Aurora’s breath quickened, her mind racing. She didn’t know who was out there, but something in her gut told her it wasn’t good. The sound of footsteps outside the cabin sent a cold shiver down her spine, and she backed away from the door, her heart thudding in her chest.

This isn’t Eren.

Before she could think of what to do, the pounding grew louder—more violent. The wood groaned under the strain, and then, with a sudden, sickening crack, the door burst open, the hinges splintering as it was kicked inward.

A man stood in the doorway, his silhouette dark against the fading light outside. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dirty, his clothes torn and stained. His eyes were wild, darting around the cabin before locking onto Aurora. He looked like he hadn’t eaten or slept in days, and there was a desperate, dangerous edge to him. He was a Marleyan criminal who had escaped and was now on the run.

Aurora’s blood ran cold.

“Please…” she stammered, taking a step back. “Who are you? What do you want?”

The man’s lips curled into a snarl, and he stepped inside, slamming the broken door behind him. “Shut up,” he growled, his voice rough and menacing. “I didn’t know anyone was living here. But now that I see you, I can’t have any witnesses.”

Aurora’s heart raced in terror. She could barely comprehend what was happening. The man moved toward her, his eyes dark and predatory. There was no reasoning with him—he was focused on survival, and that meant silencing anyone who could turn him in.

He’s going to kill me.

She backed away, her mind screaming for her to run, but her body frozen in fear. Her hands trembled as she clutched the vial of elixir, as if it could somehow protect her. She didn’t know what to do. She had no weapons, no way to defend herself.

The man lunged toward her, his hand reaching for a knife tucked into his belt. Aurora screamed, stumbling back as he closed the distance between them in an instant.

Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps pounded through the forest outside. Eren had been on his way back when he heard her scream—sharp, terrified. His heart had stopped, and without thinking, he had sprinted back toward the cabin, his instincts screaming at him that something was wrong.

He crashed through the trees, his breath ragged, and burst into the clearing just in time to see the cabin door hanging off its hinges. Panic seized him, but there was no time for thought. He charged toward the cabin, fear and rage boiling inside him.

Inside, the man grabbed Aurora by the wrist, pulling her toward him. She struggled, but he was too strong. His knife gleamed in the dim light as he raised it, ready to strike.

But before he could, the door slammed open again with a force that rattled the entire cabin.

Eren.

His eyes blazed with fury as he stormed inside, his gaze locking onto the man who had dared to lay a hand on Aurora. The criminal barely had time to react before Eren was on him, his body moving with the lethal speed of a soldier who had seen far too much death. He grabbed the man by the collar, ripping him away from Aurora and slamming him against the wall with a force that knocked the breath from his lungs.

Everything after that happened in a blur. The man barely had time to register Eren’s arrival before Eren was on him, his body moving with the lethal precision of a soldier. In a flash, Eren grabbed the man by the wrist, twisting it with such force that the knife clattered to the ground. The man grunted in pain, struggling to break free, but Eren was relentless.

He didn’t know who this man was, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care why he was here or what had led him to this point. The only thing Eren cared about was that this man had threatened Aurora.

“Get away from her,” Eren growled, his voice low and menacing as he bashed the man’s head into the wall again, this time with a brutal force that made the wooden beams creak.

The man gasped, his eyes wide with panic as he struggled against Eren’s iron grip. “What the hell are you—”

Eren didn’t let him finish. His hand shot out, grabbing the man by the throat and squeezing, his face dark with fury. There was no hesitation, no mercy in his eyes. This man had tried to kill Aurora. Eren wouldn’t give him the chance to regret that mistake.

The man thrashed desperately, trying to claw at Eren’s arm, but Eren tightened his grip, cutting off his air supply. The man’s wild, panicked eyes darted around, searching for a way out, but it was too late. He was already dead—he just didn’t know it yet.

With a final, sickening crack, Eren crushed the man’s throat, letting his lifeless body fall to the floor with a dull thud.

For a moment, the cabin was eerily silent, the only sound Eren’s ragged breathing as he stood over the body, his fists still clenched tightly. He didn’t feel anything. No remorse, no guilt. The man had been a threat. And Eren had eliminated him. That was all there was to it.

He turned to Aurora, who was standing frozen by the table, her eyes wide with shock, her chest heaving as she struggled to process what had just happened. Her face was pale, her body trembling, but she was unharmed.

“Aurora,” Eren said, his voice softer now as he stepped toward her, his expression shifting from rage to concern. “Are you okay?”

Aurora blinked, her heart still racing, and she slowly nodded, though her voice trembled when she spoke. “I… I’m okay. I… I didn’t know what to do. He just… came in.”

Eren reached out, gently placing his hands on her shoulders, his touch grounding her as she tried to calm herself. “It’s over now,” he said quietly, his voice steady and reassuring. “You’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Aurora’s breath caught in her throat, and she suddenly felt the weight of everything crash down on her. The fear, the relief, the shock of it all—it was too much. She collapsed against Eren’s chest, her hands gripping his shirt as she let out a shaky breath.

Eren wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as she trembled against him. He could feel her fear, her fragility in that moment, and it made his heart ache. He had been too late. Even if she was unharmed, she had been terrified, and that was something Eren couldn’t forgive himself for.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I should have been here.”

Aurora shook her head against his chest, her voice muffled as she replied. “You saved me, Eren. That’s all that matters.”

Eren held her for a long time, the tension in his body slowly easing as the adrenaline began to fade. But even as the cabin grew quiet again, the rage that had sparked inside him remained, simmering just beneath the surface.

He would protect Aurora. No matter what.

As Aurora stood there, enveloped in Eren’s strong arms, her mind raced, struggling to process the sheer chaos of what had just happened. The cabin, which had felt like a sanctuary just moments ago, was now the scene of something horrifying. A stranger had broken in, intent on killing her, and Eren—her childhood friend, her protector—had snapped the man’s neck without a second thought. It had all happened so quickly, too quickly for her to even comprehend.

The entire ordeal couldn’t have lasted more than five minutes, but in those five minutes, her world had turned upside down. One minute she was peacefully preparing for Eren’s return, and the next, she was fighting for her life, watching as Eren killed a man right in front of her. The man’s lifeless body still lay crumpled on the floor, his face frozen in the terror of his last moments.

Her hands trembled as she clung to Eren’s shirt, her breath coming in shallow, shaky gasps. She could still hear the sound of the door breaking, the man’s cruel voice, the way the air had been filled with violence so suddenly. And then, Eren’s expression—cold, determined, deadly—as he had crushed the man’s throat with nothing but his bare hands.

Aurora closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing heart, but the images played over and over in her mind, too vivid to escape. She could feel Eren’s steady heartbeat beneath her cheek, could feel the warmth of his body against hers, but it wasn’t enough to stop the overwhelming fear that still gripped her.

“I… I don’t… I don’t know what just happened,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as though saying it aloud would make it more real. Her fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt as she buried her face deeper into his chest, seeking the comfort that only he could provide.

Eren’s arms tightened around her, his hand gently stroking her back in slow, calming motions. He didn’t say anything at first— what could he say? He had acted on pure instinct, driven by the overwhelming need to protect her. But now, holding her like this, he could feel the weight of what had just happened pressing down on both of them.

"I’m sorry," Eren whispered again, his voice low and heavy with guilt. His breath was warm against her hair, but there was something cold and distant in his tone. "I should’ve been here sooner. You shouldn’t have had to go through that."

Aurora shook her head, her voice trembling as she spoke. “No, Eren… you… you saved me. I—” She choked on her words, the shock and fear still clouding her thoughts. She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t put into words the terror she had felt, the helplessness that had consumed her when that man had come for her with a knife.

The memory of Eren’s cold, lethal precision lingered in her mind. He hadn’t hesitated—not for a second. She had seen him fight before when he praticed his hand-to-hand combat outside, seen the power and violence he could unleash as both a human and titan, but this had been different. This had been personal. Eren had killed that man to protect her, and he had done it without blinking.

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him, her eyes wide and filled with confusion. “How… how do you do it, Eren?” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “How do you just… kill like that? So quickly, without hesitation?”

Eren’s expression softened, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes as he looked down at her. He had seen too much death, been forced to make too many impossible choices. He wasn’t the same boy she had known all those years ago in Shiganshina. The weight of the world rested on his shoulders, and he had learned long ago that sometimes survival meant doing terrible things.

“I don’t have a choice,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a quiet resignation. “I’ve done things, Aurora… things I’m not proud of. But if it means keeping you safe, if it means protecting the people I care about… then I’ll do whatever I have to.”

Aurora’s heart ached at his words, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She had always known that Eren was different now, that the boy she had once played with had grown into a man hardened by the horrors of the world. But hearing him say it, hearing the pain and guilt in his voice—it made her realize just how much he had sacrificed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to—”

Eren shook his head, cutting her off. “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. This is my fault. I should’ve been here.”

Aurora’s hands tightened around his shirt, her chest still rising and falling with uneven breaths. “No, Eren… it’s not your fault,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “You saved me.”

Eren stared at her for a long moment, his green eyes filled with an intensity that made her chest tighten. He didn’t know how to explain the feelings that had surged through him when he had heard her scream. The fear, the rage, the primal need to protect her at any cost—it had been overwhelming. And now, holding her in his arms, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had come too close to losing her.

Slowly, Aurora pulled herself out of Eren’s embrace, her hands still trembling as she wiped at her tear-streaked face. The fear still lingered, but being in his arms had helped calm the panic that had gripped her. She looked around the cabin, her gaze falling on the broken door, the scattered wood, and then finally on the man’s lifeless body lying on the floor.

Her stomach churned at the sight, and she quickly averted her gaze. “What do we do now?” she whispered, the weight of the situation settling over her. “We… we can’t just leave him here.”

Eren’s jaw tightened, his gaze darkening as he glanced at the body. He nodded grimly. “I’ll take care of it,” he said quietly, his voice cold and determined. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

Aurora swallowed hard, nodding as she took a shaky breath. She trusted him—she always had. But the world they were living in now was so different from the one they had known as children. There was no more innocence, no more safety. Only survival.

As Eren moved to deal with the body, Aurora sat down at the table, her hands still trembling as she tried to steady her breathing. The cabin had been their sanctuary, a place where she had felt safe for the first time in years. But now, the walls felt like they were closing in, the weight of the danger pressing down on her.

Eren glanced over at her, his expression softening as he saw the fear still lingering in her eyes. “I promise you,” he said quietly, his voice filled with determination. “I won’t let anything happen to you again.”

Aurora nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “I know.”

But as she sat there, her heart still racing, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The world outside was closing in, and no matter how hard Eren fought to protect her, the danger would always be there, lurking in the shadows.

And yet, as long as she had Eren, she knew she wouldn’t face it alone.

Eren stood still for a moment, his eyes locked on Aurora, who sat trembling at the table, her eyes filled with fear and unease. He could feel the tension radiating from her, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on them both. The body on the floor was a grim reminder of the brutal reality they faced—this wasn’t a peaceful world where they could hide forever. Every day was a battle for survival, and Eren couldn’t afford to let his guard down. Not for a second .

He knew what had to be done, but leaving Aurora alone, even for a short while, made his chest tighten with unease. He couldn’t stand the thought of anything else happening to her. Yet, he also knew the body couldn’t stay here. The sight of it was making her uncomfortable, and the longer it remained, the greater the risk of someone else stumbling upon them.

Eren turned to Aurora, his voice gentle despite the weight of the situation. “I’ll be back soon,” he said, his hand reaching out to gently brush her shoulder. “I need to get rid of the body. But I promise I’ll make sure everything is safe before I go.”

Aurora looked up at him, her face pale but nodding in understanding. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice still shaky. “Just… be careful.”

Eren gave a small nod before turning his attention to the body. His expression hardened, his jaw clenched as he knelt down to grip the dead man by the collar. Whoever this man had been, whatever his reasons for stumbling across their cabin, none of it mattered now. The moment he had broken in, the moment he had threatened Aurora, his fate had been sealed. Eren didn’t regret snapping his neck. The only thing he regretted was that Aurora had to witness it.

He signed his death warrant the second he stepped inside.

Even if the man hadn’t been hostile, even if he had been nothing more than a wanderer, Eren knew he still would’ve killed him. He couldn’t afford to take any chances—not with Aurora’s safety, and not with the mission. They were both too valuable, too dangerous to be discovered. He was the holder of the Founding Titan, the most wanted man in Marley, and Aurora… she was a runaway slave from the most powerful family in the country. If anyone found out who they were, it would be over for both of them.

Eren’s priorities were clear: Aurora came first. Always . And after that, the War Hammer Titan. These were the only two things that mattered to him right now.

He carefully dragged the body toward the door, his muscles tensing as he pulled the man’s dead weight out of the cabin. As he stepped outside, he paused for a moment, scanning the surrounding area, his senses heightened for any sign of danger. The trees stood still, the evening air quiet and undisturbed. But Eren didn’t relax. He couldn’t afford to. Not with what was at stake.

After making sure the area was secure, Eren began dragging the body deeper into the woods. His thoughts were calm and methodical, his focus unshaken by the gruesome task at hand. He had done things like this before, made decisions that others might find impossible. But Eren had long since accepted that the world they lived in required hard choices. If anyone threatened what he was working for—if anyone posed a danger to Aurora or his mission—he would kill them without hesitation.

He would do whatever it took to protect her. And whatever it took to secure the War Hammer Titan. In that order .

As he dragged the body further away from the cabin, Eren’s mind replayed the moment in the cabin over and over again. The man’s face twisted with fear, his life slipping away beneath Eren’s hands. It hadn’t been the first time Eren had taken a life, and it wouldn’t be the last. The guilt he had once felt over killing had long since faded, replaced by a cold, unwavering resolve. His mission— their survival—was all that mattered.

Aurora’s face flashed in his mind again, the look of terror she’d had when the man burst through the door. It wasn’t the blood or violence that haunted Eren—it was the thought that he had been too late, that he hadn’t been there in time to stop the fear that had gripped her. He hated that she had been put in danger, hated that she had to see the worst parts of this life. He wanted to shield her from all of it, but deep down, he knew that wasn’t possible.

He knelt down in the clearing, digging a shallow grave with his bare hands. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough to keep the body hidden. Eren worked quickly, his movements efficient and precise, his mind already turning to what needed to be done next. The Raid on Liberio was still months away, but every day brought them closer. And every day, the risks grew greater.

Once the grave was dug, Eren dropped the body in without a second glance, covering it with dirt and leaves until the ground looked undisturbed. He stood up, brushing the soil from his hands, and looked around one last time to make sure there were no signs of what had happened.

Satisfied, Eren turned and began the walk back to the cabin. His steps were heavy, his mind still turning over the events of the day. He couldn’t shake the image of Aurora’s fear-stricken face, the way her voice had trembled when she spoke.

I can’t let this happen again, he thought, his jaw tightening. I have to keep her safe. No matter what.

As he reached the cabin, Eren stepped inside quietly, his gaze immediately falling on Aurora. She was still sitting at the table, her hands folded in her lap, her face pale but calm. When she saw him, she offered a small, tentative smile.

“I’m okay,” she said softly, as if sensing the concern radiating from him. “I’m… just trying to process everything.”

Eren nodded, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to worry anymore,” he said quietly. “He’s gone. No one will find him.”

Aurora looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for a moment. There was something unspoken between them—an understanding that the world they lived in was unforgiving, that this wouldn’t be the last time they faced danger. But as long as they had each other, they could face it together.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet gratitude. “For protecting me.”

Eren’s gaze softened as he looked down at her, his heart swelling with something deeper than he could express. “I’ll always protect you, Aurora,” he said firmly, his voice steady with the weight of his promise. “Always.”

Aurora nodded, her heart feeling lighter despite everything that had happened. She trusted him completely, and no matter how dark the world became, she knew Eren would always be there.

…

The cabin was quiet now, the earlier chaos feeling like a distant memory, though the weight of it still hung in the air. Eren had done everything he could to make sure Aurora felt safe, but as the evening deepened into night, he could sense the lingering tension in her. The fear she had experienced still gripped her, making the silence in the cabin feel heavy.

Aurora stood near the small bed in the corner of the room, wringing her hands together as she glanced at Eren. She had been thinking about asking him this for what felt like hours, but her nerves had kept her quiet. After what had happened earlier—the terror of almost losing her life, the violent way Eren had protected her—she couldn’t bear the thought of being alone tonight.

But asking him to stay… to sleep beside her… it felt like such an intimate request.

She swallowed hard, trying to gather the courage to speak. “Eren…?” she started softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eren turned to her immediately, his eyes softening at the sight of her standing there, clearly unsure of herself. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently, stepping closer.

Aurora hesitated for a moment, feeling her heart race. She didn’t know how to ask this without sounding… awkward. But she didn’t want to be alone tonight, not after everything. And there was only one person she trusted, only one person who made her feel safe.

“I… I don’t want to sleep alone,” she admitted quietly, her voice trembling slightly. “Not after… everything that happened.” She glanced up at him, her blue eyes searching his face for any sign of rejection. “Could you… stay with me? In the bed?”

Eren’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he froze. His heart skipped a beat, and he could feel a faint blush creeping up his neck. In the bed? With Aurora? He wasn’t sure what she meant by that. Did she want him to just lay beside her for comfort, or… did she want him to hold her?

The thought sent a surge of nervousness through him, but there was also a warmth that spread through his chest at the idea. He had always cared for Aurora, and now that they were together again, those feelings had only grown stronger. He’d do anything for her, anything to make her feel safe.

“Y-yeah, of course,” Eren stammered slightly, trying to keep his voice steady. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, but he quickly nodded, not wanting to make her feel awkward. “I’ll stay with you.”

Aurora felt a rush of relief wash over her, but she also couldn’t ignore the nervous flutter in her chest. She hadn’t meant for it to sound so forward, but after what had happened earlier, all she wanted was the reassurance of Eren’s presence. Just having him close made her feel safer, like nothing could harm her while he was there.

Eren hesitated for a moment before he walked over to the bed, his mind still racing. He glanced at Aurora, who was standing beside the bed, her cheeks faintly pink as she avoided his gaze. He could tell she was nervous too, and for some reason, that made him feel a little more at ease. She wasn’t asking for anything more than comfort—he knew that. But still, the idea of lying beside her, holding her, made his heart race.

Without saying a word, Eren carefully climbed into the bed, the mattress creaking slightly under his weight. Aurora followed suit, slipping under the covers and lying on her side, facing away from him. The bed was small, and the space between them was almost nonexistent.

Eren swallowed hard, trying to calm his racing thoughts. His entire body felt tense, every nerve on edge. He wasn’t sure what to do—whether he should reach out and hold her or simply stay on his side of the bed. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but he also didn’t want her to feel alone.

For a moment, they lay there in silence, the only sound the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth. The warmth of the blankets surrounded them, but Eren could feel the nervous tension in the air.

“Eren?” Aurora’s voice was soft, barely audible in the quiet of the room.

Eren’s heart skipped another beat. “Yeah?”

Aurora hesitated, her voice trembling slightly. “Can you… can you hold me?”

The question made Eren’s heart race even faster, but he didn’t hesitate this time. He carefully shifted closer, slipping an arm around her waist and gently pulling her back against his chest. Aurora’s body was warm, and as she settled into him, he could feel the tension in both of them slowly start to fade.

His heart pounded in his chest as he held her, the feel of her soft hair brushing against his chin. He hadn’t been this close to anyone in such a long time, and now, lying here with Aurora in his arms, it felt… right. She was the only person who had ever made him feel like this, and in this moment, nothing else mattered.

Aurora felt the warmth of Eren’s body against her back, and the tension that had been building inside her all evening finally began to dissipate. His arm around her was strong and protective, and for the first time since the terrifying events earlier, she felt safe. She let out a soft sigh, closing her eyes as she allowed herself to relax into his embrace.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice soft and full of gratitude.

Eren didn’t respond with words. Instead, he tightened his hold on her ever so slightly, his heart swelling at the feeling of her in his arms. He didn’t know what the future held for them, but right now, in this moment, none of that mattered. All that mattered was that Aurora was safe, and he was here to protect her.

As the quiet of the night settled around them, the tension between them faded into something softer, something deeper. And though neither of them said anything more, the unspoken feelings they had both been holding onto lingered in the space between them, warm and undeniable.

Aurora lay still, her body pressed against Eren’s as his arm wrapped securely around her waist. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back, the warmth of his body seeping into hers through the blankets.

Her thoughts raced, but not from fear. Despite the violent encounter earlier, despite watching Eren take a life without hesitation, she had never felt more secure. His presence, his strength—it was comforting in a way that she hadn’t expected. The weight of his arm around her, the steady, protective hold, made her feel like nothing could harm her as long as he was there.

But then there was the way she could feel him. Every inch of him. His muscled torso pressed against her back, his solid frame surrounding her. She was so much smaller than him, and the size difference between them was only more noticeable in this intimate position. She shifted slightly, feeling his arm tighten instinctively, and her breath hitched. He’s so strong.

Aurora closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing thoughts. It was impossible not to think about him. Eren wasn’t the boy she remembered from Shiganshina—he was a man now, hardened by war and burdened with the fate of their people. But to her, he was still the person she had always cared for, and now, in this moment, she was keenly aware of just how close they were. Physically, emotionally.

She could feel the firm planes of his body, the way his warmth enveloped her. And even though he had killed a man earlier, it didn’t scare her. If anything, it reassured her. She knew, without a doubt, that Eren would do anything to protect her. There was something powerful in that knowledge, something that made her feel… safe .

But at the same time, she couldn’t ignore how aware she was of him. Her cheeks flushed as she realized just how close they were, especially when she felt the firmness of his chest against her back, his breath on her neck. Her heart raced, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same tension, the same awareness of their proximity.

Meanwhile, Eren was trying his best to keep it together, thankful that Aurora had her back turned to him so she couldn’t see the blush burning across his face. He had been holding her for what felt like hours, and every second had him more on edge. He could feel every curve of her body pressed against him, every soft line of her form molded against his.

Aurora had changed since they had first reunited in Marley. She had been so thin, so frail when he found her, malnourished from the years of being a slave to the Tybur family. But now, after months of living in the cabin, her body had filled out, and Eren couldn’t help but notice how beautifully she had grown. Her curves had become more pronounced, her skin glowing with health, and he had always admired her, though he kept those thoughts to himself.

But admiring from a distance was different than feeling it. Now, with her pressed so tightly against him, he was struggling to keep his thoughts from wandering. Her hips, her waist, the way her body fit perfectly against his—it was almost too much. Her butt pressed into his crotch, and Eren had to bite the inside of his cheek, willing himself not to react.

Stay calm, he told himself, his breath uneven. Don’t get turned on. Don’t let her notice.

He closed his eyes, hoping to distract himself, but the warmth of her body, the soft feel of her against him, only made it harder. His grip around her waist tightened slightly, but he quickly loosened it, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was taking advantage of the situation.

Aurora shifted again, her back pressing more firmly into him, and Eren swallowed hard, his face growing hotter by the second. God, she feels…

He forced himself to focus on something else, anything else, but it was impossible. Her presence was overwhelming. He could smell the faint scent of herbs on her, a mix of the garden and the fresh air from the woods outside. It was intoxicating, and every time she moved, his heart beat a little faster.

Eren’s mind raced, a part of him wanting to pull her closer, to let the feelings he’d been holding in for months come to the surface. But another part of him knew this wasn’t the time. Aurora had been through too much today, and right now, she needed comfort, not whatever confusing emotions were swirling in his chest.

Just stay still, he reminded himself, his breath shallow. But even as he told himself that, he couldn’t stop the faint blush from creeping up his neck.

Aurora, too, was finding it harder to remain calm. She could feel the tension in Eren’s body, the way his muscles tensed every time she moved. And though he was trying his best to keep it together, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was feeling the same way she was. The closeness, the warmth, the unspoken bond between them—it was all so overwhelming.

She wanted to ask him if he was okay, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she simply lay there, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her back, letting the comfort of his presence wash over her.

Neither of them spoke, the silence between them charged with everything they weren’t saying. But in that quiet, something unspoken lingered—something deep and undeniable, something that neither of them could ignore for much longer.

But for now, they stayed as they were, wrapped in each other’s warmth, acutely aware of the other’s presence, and hoping that the tension between them wouldn’t betray the feelings they were both trying to hide.

Eren, desperate for something— anything —to distract himself from the warmth of Aurora's body pressed against his, noticed the small vial on the table. The firelight caught on the glass, casting a soft glow over the amber liquid inside. He could tell it wasn’t there earlier, and the sight of it sparked enough curiosity to pull his mind away from the tension in his body.

Trying to focus on something other than the way Aurora’s soft curves fit perfectly against him, Eren cleared his throat softly. “Hey… what’s that on the table?” he asked, his voice low, trying to sound casual. His arm was still wrapped around her waist, but he loosened it slightly, just enough to give her space to answer without feeling too close.

Aurora blinked, grateful for the distraction as well. Her heart had been racing ever since she asked Eren to hold her, and though his presence made her feel safe, there was no denying the nervous tension in the air. She followed his gaze to the vial on the table, and her lips curved into a small smile, remembering the work she had put into creating it.

“Oh, that,” she said softly, her voice still a little shaky from the events of the day. “It’s an elixir I made. It’s supposed to help with fatigue.”

Eren raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Fatigue?” He shifted slightly, his hold on her still gentle, but his attention fully focused on what she had just said. “You made that for me?”

Aurora nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah… I noticed how tired you’ve been lately, with everything going on. I thought… maybe it could help. I know it’s not much, but it’s something.”

Eren felt a warmth spread through his chest, this time not from the closeness of their bodies, but from the thoughtfulness behind her words. Despite everything she had been through, despite the fear and uncertainty they were both facing, Aurora had taken the time to think about him. She had gone out of her way to create something that would ease his burden, even if it was something as simple as an elixir for his fatigue.

“Thank you,” Eren said quietly, his voice sincere. He tightened his arm around her just slightly, a silent gesture of appreciation. “I’ve… been feeling it, you know. All of this. But you didn’t have to go through the trouble.”

Aurora smiled faintly, feeling a little more relaxed now that they were talking about something else. “It wasn’t any trouble. I’ve always loved working with herbs… and I guess I wanted to do something that could help you. You’ve done so much for me already.”

Eren looked at her with a soft, almost unreadable expression, though she couldn’t see it with her back turned to him. The fact that she had gone to such lengths for him, after everything she had endured, stirred something deep within him. He didn’t feel deserving of her kindness, not after the life he was leading—the violence, the bloodshed, the choices he had made. But hearing her talk about wanting to help him, wanting to ease his burden, made him feel something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time.

Gratitude. And something more.

“You don’t owe me anything, Aurora,” Eren murmured, his voice soft but firm. “Everything I’ve done… I’ve done because I want to. Because I care about you.”

Aurora’s heart skipped a beat at his words, and she could feel the blush rising in her cheeks again. She shifted slightly in his arms, unsure of how to respond. She wasn’t used to hearing such vulnerability from him, but the sincerity in his voice made her chest tighten in a way she couldn’t ignore.

“I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But still… I wanted to do something.”

Eren glanced at the vial again, his mind drifting back to the effort she must have put into creating it. He had seen her working in the garden, seen the care she took with every plant, every herb. And now, to know that all of that was for him… it made the tension between them feel even more charged.

“You really think it’ll help?” he asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He was grateful for the change in conversation, something to focus on other than the way her body was pressed against his. “I mean, I’ve never had anything like that before.”

Aurora chuckled softly, the sound a welcome break from the tension in the room. “It should help,” she replied. “It’s not a miracle cure, but it’ll give you more energy. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, Eren.”

He nodded, knowing she was right. The mission, the weight of what he had to do—it had taken its toll on him. But he never let himself rest. There was too much at stake. Too much to lose if he didn’t keep moving forward.

“I’ll try it,” Eren said quietly, his voice filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Aurora. It means a lot.”

Aurora smiled to herself, feeling a little more at ease now. She was still hyper-aware of how close they were, of the way his arm was wrapped around her waist, but the conversation had helped calm her nerves. She hadn’t expected him to appreciate the elixir so much, but hearing him say it meant more to her than she realized.

As the night stretched on, the tension between them slowly began to ebb, replaced by a quiet comfort. They stayed like that, lying close together in the warmth of the bed, the unspoken feelings between them still lingering, but now softened by the simple act of caring for each other.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six

Two months remained until the Raid on Liberio, and the weight of that impending moment loomed heavily over both Eren and Aurora. The quiet cabin they had shared for months now felt charged with an intensity neither could fully grasp, a constant undercurrent of tension that came not just from the mission ahead, but from the unspoken feelings they held for each other.

Eren had become accustomed to returning to the cabin every evening, the sight of Aurora in the garden or by the hearth always a welcome relief from the endless stress of his covert operations. Each day, as he gathered more intelligence and refined his strategy, she remained a constant source of comfort, her soft presence grounding him in a way nothing else could.

Aurora, too, had found solace in the routine they had built together. She spent her days tending to the plants around their secluded cabin, her notebook filling with pages upon pages of detailed notes about every herb and plant she discovered. The more she studied, the more she experimented, crafting new elixirs and remedies, hoping to make herself useful in whatever way she could. And every night, Eren would come home, and they would talk—sometimes about his mission, sometimes about nothing at all. Just talking, just being in each other’s presence, felt like enough.

But even as they grew closer, there was always a barrier between them. An unspoken wall neither of them dared to cross.

Eren felt it constantly—the pull toward her, the need to be close to her, to protect her, to let himself feel what he’d been holding back for so long. But the Raid on Liberio was drawing nearer by the day, and he couldn’t afford distractions. There were lives at stake— Aurora’s, his, the people of Paradis—and he couldn’t allow himself the luxury of focusing on his own emotions. Not yet.

And Aurora, though her heart ached with the growing affection she had for Eren, couldn’t bring herself to say anything either. She felt the tension between them, the way Eren’s gaze lingered on her when he thought she wasn’t looking, the subtle softness in his voice when they talked. But like him, she knew the timing wasn’t right. There was too much at stake, too many unknowns. And even if she did tell him how she felt, what if it distracted him from his mission? What if she caused him to falter?

And so, they remained close but distant. Together, but still so far apart.

Eren had noticed the changes in himself over the past few weeks. He had been drinking Aurora’s elixirs daily now, trusting her herbal knowledge implicitly. At first, he hadn’t expected much—maybe a slight boost in energy, something to take the edge off the exhaustion that constantly tugged at him. But as time went on, he realized something had shifted. His stamina had increased significantly, and his ability to recover from fatigue was unlike anything he had experienced before.

More than that, his Titan powers had been enhanced. He had been able to transform twice in succession before, but now, after weeks of consuming the elixirs Aurora had crafted, he could transform up to three times in quick succession without feeling the same crushing fatigue. It was a subtle but monumental shift, one that could change everything when the time came for the Raid.

He hadn’t told Aurora about this development yet—he wasn’t even sure she fully realized how powerful her elixirs had become. But Eren knew this could be the advantage they needed. It made him feel even more indebted to her, more connected to her in a way that went beyond simple companionship.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Eren sat on the small porch of the cabin, watching the sky turn shades of pink and orange. Aurora was inside, preparing dinner, her movements soft and methodical as always. He couldn’t help but glance toward the door every few moments, his thoughts constantly drifting back to her.

The feelings he had for her were overwhelming, growing stronger with each passing day. She wasn’t just the girl he had once known, the one he had thought about for years after she disappeared. She was someone entirely new now—strong, resourceful, and kind in ways that both grounded him and made his heart ache. And yet, he couldn’t let himself act on those feelings. Not now . Not with everything so close to coming to a head.

As he sat there, lost in thought, Aurora stepped out of the cabin, carrying two bowls of soup she had made with the fresh vegetables from her garden. She handed one to him with a soft smile, sitting beside him on the porch as they both watched the sky darken.

“Here,” she said gently, her voice a soothing contrast to the tension in the air. “I used some of the herbs I found near the lake. It should help with your energy.”

Eren took the bowl from her, his fingers brushing hers briefly as he did. He felt a familiar warmth spread through him at the touch, but he quickly looked down at the bowl, focusing on the steam rising from the soup.

“Thanks,” he muttered, his voice a little rougher than he intended.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds coming from the rustle of the wind through the trees and the occasional crackle of the fire inside the cabin. But eventually, Aurora broke the silence, her voice soft but curious.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “With the elixirs, I mean. Have they been helping?”

Eren paused for a moment, his spoon halfway to his mouth. He hadn’t planned on telling her just yet, but there was no use in hiding it. He set the bowl down on the ground beside him, turning to face her fully.

“They’ve been helping more than I expected,” he admitted, his green eyes meeting hers. “A lot more, actually.”

Aurora tilted her head slightly, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Eren hesitated for a moment before answering. “Since I started drinking them, I’ve been able to transform three times in a row. Before, I could only do it twice. I didn’t think it was possible, but your elixirs… they’ve strengthened me.”

Aurora’s eyes widened, and she stared at him in surprise. “Three times?” she repeated, her voice filled with disbelief. “Eren, that’s… that’s incredible. I didn’t know it would have that kind of effect.”

Eren gave a small, almost reluctant smile. “Neither did I. But it’s real. I can feel the difference. And it’s going to help during the Raid.”

Aurora’s heart swelled with a mix of pride and awe. She had known her elixirs would help him, but she hadn’t realized just how much. To know that her work, her knowledge, had contributed to his strength—it made her feel connected to him in a deeper way than ever before.

“That’s amazing,” she said quietly, her voice filled with genuine admiration. “I’m so glad I could help.”

Eren looked at her for a long moment, the tension between them thickening again. The way her eyes shone with pride, the way her voice softened when she spoke to him—it made his chest tighten. He wanted to tell her everything, to let her know how much she meant to him, how much he cared. But he couldn’t.

Instead, he simply nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than it should have.

“Thank you, Aurora,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “For everything.”

And once again, the unspoken feelings between them lingered in the air, too heavy to ignore but too fragile to address. They sat together as the stars began to fill the sky, both of them aware of the closeness between them but neither daring to take the next step.

Because even though they had grown closer, so much closer, there was still so much at stake.

…

Eren walked the crowded streets of Liberio, his steps slow, deliberate, and limping. His disguise as a wounded Eldian soldier with supposed mental trauma was perfect. He kept his head down, his gaze vacant, as if he were lost in a world of his own misery—just another casualty of war, forgotten by the world. But inside, his mind was sharp, calculating every move, every interaction. He scanned the faces around him, watching, listening. Always gathering information.

The young boy, Falco, had caught his attention a few days ago. He was energetic, eager to help those he saw as fellow Eldians, and—most importantly—he had connections to the Warriors. Falco seemed like the kind of boy who would do anything to help his "comrades," especially someone like Eren, who appeared broken and vulnerable. Eren had already decided that when the time came, he’d use Falco to send secret letters to the Scouts, telling them to come to Liberio under the guise of sending letters to his “family.”

As he walked alongside Falco, who rambled about his hopes of helping his family and becoming a warrior, Eren’s thoughts drifted, sharpening toward the inevitable confrontation with the Tybur family. His face remained passive as the boy spoke, but internally, Eren's mind was racing with the intricacies of his plan.

The War Hammer Titan —the key to ensuring his strength, to solidifying his control over the battlefield during the Raid on Liberio. The Tybur family had hidden the War Hammer Titan’s identity well, but Eren wasn’t fooled. It couldn’t be Willy Tybur, even though he was the head of the family. That would be too obvious, too straightforward. But it had to be someone close to him—someone in his inner circle. Eren had heard whispers of the Tybur family’s influence and wealth, their deep ties to Marleyan aristocracy. But which one of them had the power he needed?

As he walked, his eyes scanned the faces of Marleyans and Eldians alike, though his mind was elsewhere. He remembered the moment he kissed Historia's hand. That memory, buried deep, had shown him glimpses of the future, flickers of events that had yet to unfold. He had seen himself in a lethal confrontation with the War Hammer Titan during the festival the Tybur family was set to host in the coming months.

It’s coming, Eren thought. The festival, the War Hammer Titan… Willy Tybur…

Willy, the man who was so beloved by Marley, the man who claimed to be working toward peace—Eren couldn’t care less about his pretenses. He had already decided. He would eat Willy Tybur first, even if Willy wasn’t the one holding the War Hammer Titan. He would tear through the Tybur family, member by member, until he had the Titan’s power in his hands. He would devour every last one of them if he had to. The thought didn’t bother him. It was necessary.

I’ll rip them apart, he thought coldly, his hands tightening into fists beneath the tattered cloak he wore.

Falco continued to chatter beside him, oblivious to the storm brewing inside Eren’s mind. The boy was loyal to his comrades, to his fellow Eldians—but that loyalty could be twisted, redirected. Eren knew the Scouts would come. They had to . Even though he’d been missing for months, even though they had no idea where he was or what he was doing, they understood that there was no future for Paradis without him. He was their only hope, their only path to survival. And Eren was prepared to manipulate that fact to his advantage.

They would come, whether out of loyalty, desperation, or fear of losing their only chance. He knew it. He’d force them to act. If they didn’t, everything would fall apart. Eren had no other choice but to push them into this war alongside him, even if it meant leading them straight into the chaos of Liberio. They’d follow, even if they hated him for it.

Hange refuses to act, Eren thought bitterly. She can’t see the bigger picture. The only other plan they have is turning Historia into a Titan so I can use the Rumbling for a ‘demonstration.’

The idea disgusted him. Turning Historia, one of the few people who had ever truly understood him, into a Titan just for the sake of a demonstration was a plan he would never accept. It was short-sighted, a temporary solution that might only protect Paradis for a few years before the threat returned, worse than ever. And sacrificing Historia? That wasn’t an option. She was one of the few remaining good people in the world, someone who had refused to let others control her fate. She had chosen to save him back under the Reiss chapel, even when it went against everything Rod Reiss was trying to drill into her.

Eren owed her. He couldn’t let her become just another pawn in this brutal game. He had to protect her, just as she had protected him when he was on the brink of despair.

No, Eren thought fiercely. There won’t be any ‘demonstration.’ I’ll wipe out every last one of them. Every last life beyond Paradis’ shores.

The thought solidified in his mind like a steel wall. A demonstration was pointless. It would only delay the inevitable. If they wanted to survive, they had to crush their enemies completely. They had to remove every threat to Paradis’s existence, and that meant wiping out the world beyond their island. Anything less would be a betrayal of everything he was fighting for.

And then there was Aurora. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, even in the midst of all his plans. When he brought her back to Paradis, he knew there would be backlash. People would question why he had brought her—an outsider, a former slave of Marley—into their world. There would be doubts, fear, suspicion. But if he had Historia’s support, he knew he could shield Aurora from that. Historia was the queen, and her voice carried weight. If she stood by him, if she accepted Aurora, it would make all the difference.

I need Historia’s support, he thought grimly. For Aurora’s sake.

His thoughts drifted back to Aurora, her soft presence in his life. She had been through so much, yet she remained resilient, determined to help him in whatever way she could. The elixirs she’d made for him had been a game-changer, allowing him to push his limits in ways he hadn’t thought possible. She was more than just someone he cared about—she was essential to his mission, to his future.

I’ll protect her, he vowed silently. No matter what.

As he and Falco walked through the streets, Eren glanced at the boy, who was still talking, unaware of the storm of thoughts swirling through Eren’s mind.

“Yes… I’ll need your help soon,” Eren said finally, his voice calm and controlled. Falco turned to him, confused.

“My help?” Falco asked, his brows furrowing.

Eren nodded. “I need to send some letters to my family. They’re probably worried sick about me.”

Falco, always eager to help, nodded enthusiastically. “I can do that! No problem, Mister. Kruger.”

Eren smiled faintly, though his mind was already elsewhere, focused on the letters he would send, on the Scouts who would inevitably come. Everything was falling into place. He just had to stay the course, keep moving forward, no matter the cost.

Because there was no turning back now.

As Eren continued to walk through the streets of Liberio with Falco, his mind drifted once more—this time to thoughts of his half-brother, Zeke Jaeger. He hadn’t seen Zeke in the four years since the Battle of Shiganshina, the day their lives had briefly intersected without either of them truly knowing their connection. Back then, Zeke was nothing more than the enemy, the Beast Titan who had devastated the Scouts, the one who nearly obliterated everything they fought for. Eren could still vividly recall that moment—he and Armin had just taken down Bertholdt, the Colossal Titan, but the battle wasn’t over.

Zeke had appeared, riding on the back of the Cart Titan, his body battered and broken, courtesy of Captain Levi’s relentless assault. Levi had sliced through Zeke, cutting off his limbs with surgical precision, forcing the Beast Titan into a desperate retreat. Zeke had barely escaped with his life, but before he disappeared, he had stopped, locking eyes with Eren. His words still echoed in Eren’s mind, strange and cryptic:

"Someday, I’ll be back to rescue you."

At the time, Eren hadn’t known what Zeke meant. To him, Zeke was simply another enemy—a deadly one, but still just a target to be taken down. He had no idea of the true connection they shared, no idea that Zeke was his elder half-brother. All Eren knew was that Zeke had fought with Marley, that he had destroyed countless lives, and that he needed to be stopped.

But after reading the books his father had left behind in the basement of their home in Shiganshina, everything had changed. The truth about his family, his father’s life, and the history of the Titans had come crashing down on him like a tidal wave. Through his father’s memories, Eren had learned about Zeke’s true identity. He wasn’t just the Beast Titan—he was Grisha’s son from his first marriage, the child born of Dina Fritz, the woman who had been turned into a Titan and had devoured Eren’s mother, Carla.

The weight of that revelation had been staggering. Zeke, the man who had been his enemy, was also the son of the Titan who had caused Eren so much pain, the same woman who had taken his mother from him. And Zeke wasn’t just another Titan shifter—he had royal blood. As the son of Dina Fritz, a member of the royal family, Zeke was the key to unlocking the true power of the Founding Titan.

Eren had known for a while now that in order to fully activate the Founding Titan’s power and use the Rumbling, he needed to make physical contact with a titan of royal blood. He had first realized this during the battle with the Smiling Titan—Dina’s Titan—when he had commanded the other Titans to attack with nothing more than a scream. The blood connection had triggered something deep within him, and he had felt the power of the Founding Titan surge through his veins.

Since then, the knowledge had lingered in the back of his mind: if he could somehow make contact with Zeke, he would be able to unleash the full power of the Founding Titan. And now, with the War Hammer Titan on the horizon, Eren’s plan was clearer than ever. Once the Raid on Liberio was complete, and once he had devoured the War Hammer Titan, his next target would be Zeke.

He knew that after the Raid, Marley would retaliate. They would come to Paradis with everything they had—soldiers, weapons, and Titans, including Zeke. The world couldn’t afford to let Paradis rise as a new power, not with the threat of the Rumbling hanging over them. But Eren wasn’t afraid. In fact, he welcomed it . Because by the time Marley came for them, he would be ready.

By then, he would have the power of the War Hammer Titan in his arsenal, a weapon that could reshape the battlefield in ways no one could predict. The power to create structures, to build weapons—he had seen glimpses of it in his father’s memories, and he knew it would be invaluable in the battles to come. But more than that, Eren had already decided what needed to happen. When Marley brought Zeke to Paradis, Eren would make contact with him. And once that happened, it would be over.

It’ll be game over for everyone.

He could feel it in his bones—the inevitability of the coming confrontation. Zeke’s royal blood would be the key to triggering the full force of the Rumbling, an army of colossal Titans hidden within the walls of Paradis, ready to be unleashed upon the world. And Eren knew exactly what he was going to do with that power.

He would wipe out every last life beyond Paradis’ shores.

Everything is falling into place, Eren thought, his mind calm but resolute. I just have to keep moving forward.

Falco’s voice broke through his thoughts, and Eren glanced down at the boy, who was still talking, completely unaware of the storm of plans and strategies swirling in Eren’s mind.

“Hey, Mister Kruger, are you okay? You look like you’re thinking really hard about something,” Falco said, his youthful voice filled with concern.

Eren blinked, snapping back to the present. He offered the boy a small smile, shaking his head. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice steady. “Just thinking about my family.”

Falco nodded, looking relieved. “Well, if you need help with those letters, I’ll be happy to deliver them! Just tell me when.”

Eren nodded, his mind already moving ahead to the next steps. “I’ll let you know soon. Thanks, Falco.”

As they continued walking, Eren’s thoughts drifted back to the plan. Soon, everything would come together. The War Hammer Titan, Zeke, the Rumbling. And then, no one would ever dare threaten Paradis again.

…

Back at the cabin, the atmosphere was calm, the air crisp with the scent of pine and herbs. Aurora had just finished her daily chores—tending to the small garden, gathering herbs, and tidying the cabin. Her mind, as always, was focused on her next experiment. With the tools Eren had managed to secure for her, including a few syringes and a basic first aid kit, she had been able to elevate her experiments. Eren had encouraged her to keep working on her herbal mixtures, and she had thrown herself into it, determined to find new ways to help him and possibly the scouts when the time came.

Today, she had been working on something new. While her elixirs had proven useful for Eren’s fatigue, she wanted to create something more immediate—something that could relieve stress in an instant, something that could soothe the mind and body, especially in the midst of combat or heavy tension. The mixture she was working on was one she had been fine-tuning for weeks, using herbs known for their calming properties. She hoped this one would be the breakthrough she needed.

A small bird had landed near the cabin earlier, weak and seemingly in distress. Aurora had carefully caught it, her heart going out to the fragile creature. She decided to test her newest creation on it, reasoning that if it could calm the bird’s stress, it could work on a human as well. Her hands moved swiftly and carefully as she prepared the syringe, drawing the pale liquid into the needle. The bird sat in a small wooden box, its fragile body trembling slightly.

Aurora approached slowly, murmuring softly to calm the bird. She didn’t want to hurt it—only to help. She carefully injected the bird with the serum, her heart beating with a mixture of hope and anxiety.

But then, almost immediately, something went wrong.

The bird twitched violently, its small body convulsing in her hands. Aurora’s eyes widened in horror as the bird began to spasm uncontrollably, its wings flapping erratically. Her breath caught in her throat, panic surging through her as she watched helplessly. “No, no, no…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Please, no…”

The convulsions lasted only a few seconds, but to Aurora, it felt like an eternity. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, the bird stilled. It lay motionless in her hands, its small chest no longer rising and falling. Aurora stared at it, her heart sinking with the crushing realization of what had just happened.

The bird was dead .

Her hands shook as she gently set the bird down on the table, her eyes wide with disbelief. How had this happened ? The mixture was supposed to be harmless—a simple stress reliever. She had used herbs that were known for their calming effects, ones that had been used in remedies for centuries. But something had gone horribly wrong. Instead of calming the bird, she had killed it.

Aurora took a step back, her heart pounding in her chest as a wave of guilt and horror washed over her. The bird’s small, lifeless body lay still on the table, a stark reminder of her failure. She hadn’t meant for this to happen. She had only wanted to help, to create something useful, something that could ease Eren’s burdens and maybe even save lives in the future. But instead, she had created something lethal.

Her hands trembled as she reached for the vial containing the rest of the mixture, staring at the liquid inside with a mix of fear and confusion. What had she done wrong? What ingredient had caused this reaction? She had been so careful, so precise. She had tested each component individually, and none of them had shown any signs of being dangerous.

But together… together, they had created something deadly.

Aurora felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to cry. She couldn’t afford to be emotional about this. She needed to figure out what had gone wrong, to understand why the mixture had become so dangerous. But as she stood there, staring at the lifeless bird, a deep sense of dread settled over her.

What if she had tested this on a person? What if she had given this to Eren?

The thought made her stomach turn. If Eren had taken this mixture, if she had given it to him in the hope of easing his stress, it could have killed him. The very idea made her feel sick, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. She had been so focused on helping him, so desperate to do something useful, that she hadn’t stopped to consider the potential risks.

Aurora sank into the chair by the table, her mind racing with a mixture of fear and regret. She had never intended for this to happen. She had always believed in the sanctity of life, always wanted to use her skills to heal and protect, never to harm. But now, she had inadvertently created a deadly poison, and it terrified her.

She glanced at the vial again, her mind swirling with questions. What would she do now? She couldn’t keep experimenting with this mixture—not until she understood what had gone wrong. But part of her was afraid to even touch it again. What if she made another mistake? What if the next time, it wasn’t a bird, but someone she cared about?

Aurora buried her face in her hands, her body trembling with the weight of her realization. She had failed. And that failure could have cost someone their life.

…

When Eren opened the door to the cabin that evening, the first thing he noticed was the heavy, tense atmosphere hanging in the air. The usual warmth and calm of their home felt off, and it didn’t take long for him to figure out why. Aurora, who always greeted him with a soft smile or a simple acknowledgment when he returned, was seated at the small table, frantically flipping through the pages of her notebook. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with a mix of panic and exhaustion, and her hair, usually so meticulously tied back, was in disarray.

She didn’t even look up when he stepped inside. Her fingers moved rapidly across the pages, and Eren could hear her muttering to herself under her breath, almost as if she was trying to reason through something, but the tremble in her voice gave away her distress.

“Aurora?” Eren said quietly, shutting the door behind him.

She didn’t respond, her eyes glued to her notes as she scribbled something down, only to cross it out a second later. Eren frowned, his concern deepening. He set his things down and took a step toward her, his voice firmer this time. “Aurora.”

At the sound of his voice, she flinched slightly, finally tearing her gaze away from her notebook. Her wide, ice-blue eyes met his, and Eren’s chest tightened at the sight of the panic written all over her face.

“Eren…” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I—I messed up.”

Eren’s frown deepened as he moved closer, pulling up a chair beside her. He could see the exhaustion in her posture, the way her hands trembled slightly as she clutched her notebook. “What happened?” he asked gently, though his voice held a note of urgency. He had never seen Aurora like this before .

Aurora took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but her thoughts were racing too fast for her to focus. “I was… I was working on something new,” she began, her voice tight. “A stress reliever. I thought it would help you—help us. But something went wrong, Eren. I tested it on a bird I found, and… it died.”

Eren’s eyes flicked to the small table, and for the first time, he noticed the tiny, lifeless body of the bird lying on a cloth beside her notes. His stomach clenched at the sight, but he kept his gaze steady on Aurora, who looked on the verge of breaking down.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” she continued, her voice cracking slightly. “I thought I had everything right. I tested each herb, I was so careful, but when I put them together… it created something deadly. I killed that bird, Eren. It—it could have been you.”

The last words came out in a choked whisper, and Eren could see the guilt and fear in her eyes. Her hands shook as she ran them through her hair, pulling at the strands in frustration.

“I don’t know what went wrong,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’ve been going through my notes all day, trying to figure it out, but I don’t understand. What if I had given it to you? What if—” She stopped, her breath hitching as the full weight of her fears settled over her.

Eren’s heart tightened at the sight of her so distraught, so shaken. He could see how deeply this affected her, how much she had been carrying the weight of this mistake. Without thinking, he reached out, placing his hand gently on her shoulder.

“Aurora,” he said softly, his voice calm but firm. “It’s okay.”

She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “No, it’s not. I could have killed you. I thought I was helping, but I—”

“You didn’t kill me,” Eren interrupted gently, his voice steady. “You didn’t give me the mixture. You tested it first. You were careful.”

Aurora stared at him, her eyes shimmering with tears, her expression filled with guilt and doubt. “But if I hadn’t tested it…”

“But you did,” Eren said, his tone firm. “You tested it, Aurora. You made sure it was safe before doing anything else. You didn’t take any unnecessary risks.” He glanced at the bird for a moment, then back at her. “And as much as I understand you feel responsible for this, you didn’t fail. You’re trying to help, and that’s what matters.”

Aurora wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, her breath coming in shaky bursts. “But what if I fail again?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “What if I hurt someone next time? I don’t know what I did wrong, Eren. I don’t know if I’ll ever figure it out.”

Eren leaned in slightly, his hand still resting gently on her shoulder. “You won’t hurt anyone,” he said quietly, his eyes softening as he spoke. “Because you’ll figure it out. I know you will. You’re careful, and you care. That’s why I trust you.”

Aurora stared at him, her heart pounding at the sincerity in his voice. The guilt still weighed heavily on her, but Eren’s calm presence made it easier to breathe, easier to think. He wasn’t angry with her. He wasn’t upset or disappointed. If anything, he seemed relieved that she had taken precautions.

“I just don’t want to hurt anyone,” she murmured, her voice filled with emotion.

Eren nodded, his gaze soft but determined. “I know. And you won’t. You’re too careful for that.” He paused for a moment, his eyes searching hers. “Aurora, we’re living in a world where everything is dangerous. Where every step we take is a risk. You didn’t mean for this to happen. And the fact that you’re trying this hard to find something that can help—it means more to me than you know.”

Aurora’s chest tightened at his words, and she bit her lip, trying to hold back more tears. “I’m sorry, Eren. I was so scared… I didn’t know what to do.”

Eren gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he said softly. “I’m here. And if you need help, we’ll figure it out together.”

Aurora nodded slowly, feeling some of the weight lifting from her shoulders. She took a deep, shaky breath, her fingers brushing lightly over the pages of her notebook. She still had so much to figure out, but with Eren beside her, it didn’t feel as overwhelming anymore.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude.

Eren gave her a small smile, one that softened his usual stern expression. “Anytime.”

And as the evening settled around them, the cabin felt just a little bit warmer.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven

Eren moved closer to Aurora, his concern for her evident in the way he looked at her, and without another word, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight, reassuring embrace. His strong arms engulfed her, holding her as if he could protect her from every danger in the world. Aurora, still shaken from what had happened earlier, melted into his embrace. The warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart, the strength in his hold—it all made her feel safe in a way nothing else ever could.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The world outside ceased to exist as they held each other, both silently thinking about how much they meant to one another. Eren’s heart pounded in his chest, but it wasn’t just from the day’s events. It was because of her. Aurora had become more than just someone he cared about. She had become someone he couldn’t imagine losing, someone whose safety meant more to him than anything. Even if he couldn’t say it out loud, the truth of his feelings weighed on him: he loved her .

And Aurora, as she rested her head against his chest, felt the same. Eren had saved her, not just from physical harm but from the life of despair she had lived before he found her. He was her first friend, her protector, and now... the man she loved , though she was too shy, too uncertain to express it. The feelings were overwhelming, unspoken but palpable in the air between them.

The moment was fragile, tender. But then, without warning, a sharp, sudden knock rang out through the cabin, shattering the quiet. Both Eren and Aurora tensed, their bodies going rigid in each other’s arms.

The knocking continued, louder and more insistent. Someone was at the door.

Eren’s mind immediately sharpened, instincts flaring. He didn’t need to look to know who it had to be: Marleyan soldiers. His gut told him as much. There was no one else who would be so bold, no one who would dare to knock on a cabin this isolated. His heart raced, but not with fear. No, what surged through him was cold, calculated anger.

The knock grew more violent, rattling the door in its frame.

“Aurora,” Eren whispered, his voice low and urgent. “Hide. Under the bed. Now.”

Aurora’s eyes widened, fear flickering across her face as she realized what was happening. “Eren, are you—?”

“Go,” he ordered, his voice hard but protective. He didn’t need to say more. She knew exactly what he was going to do.

Without arguing, Aurora slipped away from him, quickly crawling beneath the bed. She tucked herself into the shadows, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t like what Eren was about to do, but she knew it was necessary. Whoever was at the door—they couldn’t know about them. Not with everything so close to coming to a head. Not when the Raid on Liberio was only weeks away.

The door shuddered under the force of the next knock, and then, with a loud crack, it burst open, splinters of wood flying into the room. Three Marleyan soldiers stormed inside, their rifles at the ready. They looked around, clearly expecting to find the missing criminal they had been tracking for months now, but he was dead, brutally murdered by Eren months ago. Instead, the soldiers found Eren standing there, calm and still, wearing his soldier disguise, the red armband around his arm marking him as an Eldian.

The soldiers’ eyes widened in shock, but their expressions quickly shifted to suspicion.

“What the hell is this?” one of the soldiers barked, his rifle pointed directly at Eren. “Who are you? Why aren’t you in the internment zone?”

The air between them crackled with tension. The soldiers didn’t know his name, his identity, or what he was capable of. But that didn’t matter. Eldians leaving the internment zone was grounds for execution. And Eren—he didn’t plan on letting any of them leave alive.

“Answer me!” the lead soldier demanded, his voice growing more hostile. “What are you doing out here?”

Eren didn’t respond. His eyes flicked between the three soldiers, his face a mask of cold, simmering rage. He didn’t care why they were here or what they were looking for. All he knew was that they had to die. He couldn’t afford to let anyone jeopardize his plans, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let them find out about Aurora.

The soldiers, sensing something was off, raised their rifles.

“Shoot him,” the lead soldier commanded, his voice sharp with authority. “Now.”

Aurora, hidden under the bed, felt her heart drop into her stomach as the soldiers opened fire. The deafening sound of gunfire filled the small cabin, bullets ripping through the air and slamming into Eren’s chest and arms. Aurora nearly screamed, her hands flying to cover her mouth as she watched in horror. The sight of Eren being riddled with bullets was too much—her instinct was to cry out, to run to him. But she forced herself to stay quiet, to stay hidden. She knew what he was. She knew Eren would be okay. He would heal .

The Marleyan soldiers, however, were not prepared for what happened next.

Eren didn’t fall. He didn’t even flinch. Blood seeped from the bullet wounds in his body, staining his shirt, but he remained standing, his posture straight and unyielding. His expression was unreadable, but there was a darkness in his eyes that sent a chill through the room as the steam began to rise from his gunshot wounds that had already started healing.

The soldiers exchanged bewildered, panicked looks.

“What the…?” one of them muttered, his voice shaking. “He’s still standing—”

“He’s a Titan shifter!” the lead soldier shouted, his eyes wide with terror. “Look at the steam! We need to get out of here—!”

But it was already too late.

With a savage, almost primal roar, Eren lunged at the first soldier, his hand wrapping around the man’s throat with brutal force. The soldier’s eyes bulged as Eren slammed him into the wall with such strength that the wood cracked under the impact. In one swift, merciless motion, Eren snapped the soldier’s neck, the sickening crack echoing through the room.

The second soldier tried to raise his rifle, but Eren was faster. His fist connected with the man’s jaw, sending him crashing to the floor. Before the soldier could even register what was happening, Eren stomped down on his throat, crushing his windpipe.

Aurora, still hidden beneath the bed, watched in wide-eyed horror as the third soldier, realizing the dire situation, turned to flee. He bolted toward the door, desperate to escape, but Eren’s hand shot out, grabbing the man by the collar and yanking him back with terrifying ease.

The soldier screamed, his hands clawing at Eren’s grip as he struggled to breathe. Eren’s face twisted into a look of cold fury as he tightened his grip around the man’s throat, slowly choking the life out of him. The soldier kicked and thrashed, his face turning red, then purple, as he fought for air.

Aurora’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched from the shadows, her body trembling. She had seen Eren kill before, but this—this was pure savagery. It was ruthless, primal. The man’s eyes bulged, his hands desperately clawing at Eren’s arm, but it was no use. Eren’s strength was overwhelming.

And as Aurora watched, hidden beneath the bed, she knew one thing for certain:

Eren would protect her, no matter the cost. Even if it meant becoming the monster everyone else believed him to be.

As Eren tightened his grip on the third Marleyan soldier, watching the life drain from his eyes, Aurora trembled beneath the bed. Her heart pounded in her chest, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she tried to steady her breath. The scene unfolding in front of her was brutal, raw, and terrifying. Eren was unstoppable, but that didn’t ease the fear gnawing at her insides.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something that made her blood run cold. A shadow—another figure lurking behind Eren. A fourth Marleyan soldier.

Her breath caught in her throat as she realized Eren hadn’t seen him yet. His back was turned as he finished off the soldier in his grasp, completely unaware of the danger looming just feet behind him. Aurora’s eyes widened in horror as she watched the soldier silently raise his rifle, aiming it directly at Eren’s head.

No, she thought, her body frozen in fear. Not his head...

She had seen Eren survive the gunshots just now, witnessed how his body healed rapidly from even the most grievous wounds. But a shot to the head? Aurora had no idea if he could survive that, and she wasn’t about to find out.

Panic surged through her as the soldier's finger inched toward the trigger. If she screamed to warn Eren, the soldier would shoot faster than anticipated, and he’d aim directly for his head. There was no time to hesitate. No time to think. Aurora’s mind raced, her heart thundering in her ears as she realized there was only one option.

I have to stop him.

Her hands instinctively moved to her dress pocket, and she felt the cold, hard surface of the syringe she had forgotten she still carried. The same lethal serum that had killed the bird earlier—the one she hadn’t yet disposed of. She didn’t want to kill, not again, and especially not a human being. But the image of Eren’s life being snuffed out in front of her was too much to bear.

Without another thought, she silently moved from under the bed, her movements as quiet and careful as possible. The soldier couldn’t see her from his angle, his focus solely on Eren. But as she crept closer, inch by agonizing inch, her breath caught in her throat. Every muscle in her body was tense, ready to strike.

Eren, finishing off the soldier he was strangling, suddenly noticed movement from the corner of his eye. His sharp instincts immediately flared, and his head turned just slightly to the side, enough to catch a glimpse of Aurora creeping toward the fourth soldier. His eyes widened in shock, his heart hammering in his chest as he realized what was happening.

The rifle was aimed at his head.

The fourth soldier’s finger hovered over the trigger, and Aurora— his Aurora—was moving closer with the syringe in hand. Eren’s mind screamed at him to move, to do something, but in that split second, he knew there was nothing he could do. The soldier was too close. He wouldn’t reach him in time.

The soldier, sensing something out of the corner of his eye, turned slightly, but it was too late.

Aurora struck.

With all the strength she could muster, she stabbed the syringe deep into the soldier’s neck. His eyes widened in shock as the needle pierced his skin, and in a split second, his finger jerked, the gun discharging. The shot rang out in the small cabin, but it missed its mark, the bullet flying past Eren and embedding itself into the wall with a loud thud.

The serum worked fast—just like it had with the bird. The soldier’s body convulsed violently, his arms flailing as the effects took hold. His rifle clattered to the ground as his legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor, his body jerking uncontrollably. Foaming at the mouth, the soldier’s eyes rolled back into his head, and after a few excruciating moments, he stilled, lifeless.

Eren stood frozen for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as the reality of what had just happened sank in. He looked down at the fourth soldier, then back at Aurora, who stood there, her hand trembling as she let the syringe fall from her grasp. The cabin was deathly quiet now, save for the sound of Aurora’s shaky breaths.

She had done it. She had saved him.

Aurora, the sweet, gentle girl who had always valued life above everything else, had just killed someone to save his life. Eren’s heart twisted painfully in his chest as he looked at her, a mix of shock, awe, and guilt swirling inside him.

“Aurora…” Eren’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. He didn’t know what to say, what words could possibly convey the storm of emotions he felt in that moment.

Aurora stood frozen, staring at the lifeless soldier at her feet. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps as she tried to process what she had just done. She had killed someone. She had taken a life, and while she knew it was to protect Eren, the weight of that act hung heavy on her soul.

“I… I had to,” Aurora whispered, her voice trembling. “I couldn’t let him… I couldn’t let him kill you.”

Eren took a step toward her, his heart aching at the sight of her trembling form. He reached out, his hand gently touching her arm, but Aurora flinched slightly at the contact, still overwhelmed by the reality of what had happened.

“You saved me,” Eren said quietly, his voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper—something raw and vulnerable. “You saved my life.”

Aurora’s gaze flicked up to meet his, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and sorrow. “I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to kill anyone…”

Eren pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest, the same way he had earlier. His grip was strong, protective, as if he could shield her from the harshness of the world outside. “I know,” he whispered into her hair. “I know you didn’t. But you had to. You did what you had to do.”

Aurora’s body trembled in his arms, but she hugged him back tightly, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping her grounded. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of fear, guilt, and something else—something warmer, something tied to the man who was holding her.

“I couldn’t let you die,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. “I care about you too much.”

Eren’s heart skipped a beat at her words, and for a moment, all the chaos around them seemed to fade away. He tightened his hold on her, his lips brushing against the top of her head as he whispered, “I care about you too, Aurora. More than you know.”

The unspoken feelings between them, the ones they had both been suppressing for so long, hung heavy in the air, but there was no time to dwell on them now.

They stood like that for a long moment, the silence of the cabin settling around them, the weight of what had just happened still sinking in. But as much as Eren wanted to stay there, to hold her forever, he knew they couldn’t.

He had to finish this. He had to make sure no one else would come looking for them.

Slowly, he pulled away, his hand still resting on Aurora’s arm as he looked into her eyes. “Stay here,” he said softly, his voice filled with resolve. “I need to take care of the bodies.”

Aurora nodded, her eyes filled with both trust and fear. She didn’t want him to leave, but she knew it had to be done. She couldn’t let the weight of her actions crush her—not when Eren was still here, still alive .

And as Eren turned to drag the bodies away, Aurora watched him with a mixture of awe and sorrow, knowing that their bond had only grown stronger—tied now by the blood they had both shed.

…

As Eren returned to the cabin, his steps heavy from the weight of what he had just witnessed Aurora do for him, the first thing he saw was her. She was sitting at the small table, her hands resting in her lap, but her eyes were distant, lost in thought. The faint moonlight streaming through the window illuminated her delicate features, and despite everything that had happened, she looked so fragile, so innocent. His chest tightened with guilt as he realized that this was not the world he wanted for her. He never wanted her to ever get her hands dirty— especially not for a monster like him .

Without a word, Eren crossed the room and engulfed her in his arms. Aurora’s body immediately melted into his, her head resting against his chest as his arms tightened around her protectively. He held her close, as if by holding her, he could shield her from all the darkness and violence that had surrounded them for so long. The smell of earth and the faint metallic scent of blood still clung to him, but Aurora didn’t care. In his embrace, she felt safe.

“I’m sorry,” Eren whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I never wanted this for you… never wanted you to have to—”

Aurora shook her head against his chest, her voice soft but firm. “No, Eren. Don’t be sorry.” She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up into his eyes. “I hate what I did. I hate that I had to kill. But I would do it again. For you.”

Eren’s heart clenched at her words. His sweet, innocent Aurora had been forced to kill, to break her vow of nonviolence, all because of him. And despite that, despite everything, she didn’t hesitate. She had saved his life without a second thought.

“Aurora…” he whispered, his voice barely audible, but she placed a hand gently on his chest, silencing him.

“Eren,” she said softly, her eyes filled with a quiet determination. “You’re everything to me. You’re the only person in this world I trust. You’re the only person who cares about me. I couldn’t… I couldn’t let you die. I won’t ever let you die.”

Eren felt something break inside him at her words, a floodgate of emotions crashing over him. The overwhelming weight of everything he had been holding back—the guilt, the fear, the anger, and the love—hit him all at once. He couldn’t stop himself, not this time. He didn’t want to stop himself.

Without thinking, without hesitation, Eren leaned down and captured her lips in a deep, desperate kiss. The moment their lips met, a spark ignited between them, and all the tension that had been building for months, all the unspoken feelings they had buried, came rushing to the surface.

Aurora responded immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as she kissed him back with just as much passion. Her heart raced in her chest, and she could feel the warmth of his body against hers, the strength in his embrace. It was overwhelming, intoxicating, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was no war, no violence, no danger—just them, wrapped up in each other.

Eren’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss. He had wanted this for so long, longer than he was willing to admit. Aurora, the girl who had been his first friend, the girl who had been lost to him for so many years, was now here in his arms. And she wasn’t just a memory anymore. She was real, and she was everything .

Aurora’s fingers tangled in his hair, her breath hitching as the kiss grew more intense. She had loved Eren for so long, even before she fully understood what that feeling was. And now, after everything they had been through, it was undeniable. Her heart belonged to him, completely and irrevocably.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to steady their racing hearts. Eren’s eyes were dark with emotion as he looked down at her, his hands still resting on her waist.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words slipping out before he could stop them. But once they were out, he didn’t want to take them back. He meant them with every fiber of his being. “I love you, Aurora. I’ve always loved you.”

Eren’s words hung in the air and Aurora felt her heart soar. It was as if all the fears and doubts she had carried with her for so long had been lifted, replaced by a warmth so intense it nearly overwhelmed her. She had waited so long to hear those words, to know for certain that Eren felt the same as she did. She had hoped, prayed, and dreamed that someday he would love her the way she had always loved him. And now, here it was—his confession, raw and heartfelt, echoing everything she had ever wanted to hear.

Her eyes shimmered with tears of joy as she smiled up at him, her heart beating wildly in her chest. “I love you too, Eren,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve loved you for so long.”

Hearing those words from her, Eren felt something inside him shift, something he hadn’t felt in what seemed like years—pure, unfiltered happiness. For so long, his life had been filled with nothing but anger, hatred, and a relentless drive to move forward, no matter the cost. But here, in this moment, hearing Aurora say that she loved him back, Eren felt lighter than he had in what felt like a lifetime.

A wide, almost disbelieving smile tugged at the corners of his lips, something that had become so rare for him in recent years. He cupped her face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to spill down her cheeks. “You don’t know how happy that makes me,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that.”

Aurora leaned into his touch, her heart swelling with warmth as she looked into his eyes. There was a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability that she hadn’t seen in so long. The walls that he had built around himself, the stoic and calculating exterior he had worn for months, seemed to crumble away in that moment, leaving only the man she loved—the man who had always been there beneath the surface.

Eren pulled her close again, wrapping his arms around her as if he could somehow protect her from the entire world. And in his arms, Aurora felt safe, cherished, and loved. Everything she had ever wanted.

The world outside was still dangerous. Eren knew that more than anyone. The Raid on Liberio was fast approaching, and after that, the inevitable war with Marley would follow. But right now, none of that mattered. Right now, all that mattered was that she was here with him, that she loved him, and that he loved her back.

His mind flashed back to everything that had happened—the brutal life Aurora had endured, the way she had been forced to kill to protect him, to save his life. That alone was proof of how fiercely she loved him. And Eren… Eren loved her with everything he had left in him.

It wasn’t the gentle, carefree love he had imagined as a child. It was raw, powerful, and all-consuming. It was a love that had been forged in the fires of pain, loss, and survival. But it was real, and it was theirs.

Eren’s hand gently cupped the back of Aurora’s neck as he rested his forehead against hers. His voice was low, rough with emotion as he spoke. “I don’t know what the future holds, Aurora,” he admitted. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with Marley, or with the war, or anything else… but there’s one thing I do know.”

Aurora looked up at him, her heart racing as she waited for his next words.

“No one’s going to take you away from me,” he said, his voice fierce with determination. “I don’t care what I have to do. If the world wants to take you from me, then I’ll burn the world to the ground. I’ll destroy anyone who tries to hurt you. I swear it.”

Aurora’s breath caught in her throat at the intensity of his words. There was a darkness in his tone, an edge that sent a shiver down her spine. But at the same time, she understood. She knew how much Eren had lost, how much he had suffered, and how much he had sacrificed for the sake of his mission. And now, she was the one thing he couldn’t bear to lose.

“I won’t let them take you from me,” he continued, his grip tightening slightly around her. “No one. Not Marley, not the world… no one.”

Aurora reached up, her fingers gently brushing against his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere, Eren,” she whispered softly. “I’m with you. Always.”

Eren closed his eyes for a moment, letting her words wash over him like a balm to his soul. For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to relax, to let go of the constant tension that had plagued him for so long. He wasn’t alone anymore. Aurora was with him, and she loved him.

And that was all he needed.

With a deep breath, he leaned in again, capturing her lips in another kiss—this time softer, slower, but no less passionate. It was a kiss filled with everything he couldn’t say, with all the emotions he had kept locked away for so long.

Aurora responded with just as much intensity, her hands sliding up to his shoulders as she held him close. She could feel the love, the desperation, and the promise in his kiss, and it made her heart ache in the best way.

As they pulled apart, their foreheads resting against each other once more, the room around them seemed to fade away. It was just them—two people who had found each other again in the midst of a world filled with chaos and destruction.

Whatever the future held, they would face it together.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight

Another month had passed, and the tension in Marley was palpable. Eren could feel it in the air, in the way the soldiers walked the streets with their rifles gripped tightly, in the way the Marleyan citizens moved with an unspoken anxiety. The festival was drawing near, and with it, the moment Eren had been waiting for—the Raid on Liberio.

Everything was in place. Falco had already sent the letters to the Scouts, as Eren had instructed. The pieces were moving, the plan unfolding just as he had envisioned. All that was left was to wait. Soon, Willy Tybur would take the stage, and Eren would make his move. But this wasn’t just about gaining the War Hammer Titan's power, though that was crucial. This was about revenge . The Tybur family had played a role in Aurora’s suffering, and Eren intended to make them pay for that.

He sat in the cabin, his eyes staring at the faint glow of the evening light filtering through the window. His thoughts drifted to Aurora, as they often did these days. Since the night they had confessed their love for each other, everything had changed between them. What had once been unspoken, hidden beneath layers of fear and uncertainty, had blossomed into something real, something undeniable.

Despite the constant pressure of his mission, the weight of the world on his shoulders, Eren had never felt more alive or happier. Coming home to Aurora every day, seeing her smile when he walked through the door, holding her in his arms—it made the cruel reality of the world feel bearable. He cherished every moment they spent together. The way her eyes lit up when she saw him, the soft sound of her laugh when he teased her, the way she leaned into him when they kissed—it was everything he had ever wanted but never dared to hope for.

But with that happiness came a gnawing sense of guilt. Eren wished, more than anything, that he could give Aurora a better life than this. She deserved more than a cabin hidden in the woods, more than the constant fear of being discovered, more than the violence and bloodshed that surrounded them. She deserved peace, safety, a future free from the horrors of this world.

But Eren knew better than anyone— this was a cruel world . And if he wanted to protect Aurora, if he wanted to ensure they could be together without fear, he would have to burn that world down first.

He was resolved. The Raid on Liberio was only the beginning. He would destroy Marley, crush their armies, and once he had the power of the War Hammer Titan and got his hands on Zeke, nothing would stop him from using the Rumbling to wipe out every last enemy beyond the shores of Paradis. He would create a new world for Aurora, a world where they could live in peace, without the constant threat of death hanging over them.

As he sat there, his thoughts drifted to something he had been considering for the past few days. The idea had taken root in his mind, growing stronger with each passing day. It made him feel giddy, something he hadn’t felt in years. The idea of marrying Aurora .

It had only been a few weeks since they had confessed their love, but Eren already knew. She was the only woman for him. He didn’t want anyone else. He never had. Since they were children, Aurora had always been in his thoughts, and now that she was back in his life, he couldn’t imagine a future without her.

The thought of marrying her, of making her his wife, filled him with a kind of joy he hadn’t thought himself capable of anymore. He wanted to give her that, even in this dark, uncertain time. And if there was even a slight chance that he wouldn’t survive the war, he wanted to marry her before then. He refused to leave this world without knowing that she would be safe, that he had done everything in his power to protect her.

Eren stood from his chair, the decision solidifying in his mind. He didn’t need to wait. He didn’t need to think about it any longer. He knew what he wanted, and that was Aurora by his side, for however long they had left in this world.

He stepped outside, the cool evening air brushing against his skin as he found her tending to the small garden she had grown behind the cabin. Aurora was kneeling by the herbs, her hands carefully tending to the plants she had nurtured over the past few months. Her long, platinum blonde hair fell over her shoulders in soft waves, and her ice-blue eyes were focused on her work, a peaceful smile on her face.

Eren’s heart swelled at the sight of her, the love he felt for her almost overwhelming. He walked up behind her, his footsteps soft on the grass, and crouched down beside her. Aurora looked up at him, her smile widening when she saw him.

“Hey,” she greeted softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re back earlier than usual.”

Eren nodded, his gaze locked on her. “Yeah… I needed to see you.”

Aurora’s smile softened, and she set aside the herbs she had been working on, turning to face him fully. “Is everything okay?”

Eren reached out, taking her hand in his. “Everything’s fine,” he reassured her. “Better than fine, actually.”

Aurora tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “What is it?”

Eren hesitated for a moment, the weight of what he was about to say sinking in. But then, with a deep breath, he looked into her eyes, his voice steady and filled with emotion. “Aurora… I’ve been thinking. About us. About everything we’ve been through. And… I know we’re in the middle of a war. I know things are uncertain, but…”

He paused, his heart pounding in his chest as he spoke the words that had been sitting in his heart for days.

“I want to marry you. ”

Aurora’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. For a moment, she was too stunned to speak, her heart racing as she tried to process what he had just said.

Eren squeezed her hand gently, his voice soft but determined. “I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future, but I do know that I want to spend whatever time I have left with you. I want to marry you, Aurora. I want to make you my wife.”

Tears welled in Aurora’s eyes as she looked at him, her heart overflowing with love and happiness. She hadn’t expected this, not now, not in the midst of everything that was happening. But hearing Eren say those words, seeing the love in his eyes, she knew it was what she wanted too.

“Eren,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Eren smiled softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “You don’t have to say anything. Just… tell me if this is what you want too. Because I can’t imagine a future without you. And if we don’t have much time… I want to make the most of it.”

Aurora’s tears spilled over, but she smiled through them, nodding as she wrapped her arms around him. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “Yes, Eren. I want to marry you.”

Eren’s heart soared at her words, and he pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her as if he could never let her go. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the war, not the bloodshed, not the uncertainty of the future. All that mattered was that they had each other.

And no matter what came next, Eren was determined to protect her, to build a future for her. Even if the world had to burn, he would do it. For Aurora .

As Eren held Aurora close, feeling the warmth of her body against his, the weight of his proposal began to sink in. It had been impulsive, raw, driven by the overwhelming love he felt for her. He hadn't necessarily planned for it, hadn't thought all the way through. He hadn't even given her a ring.

That thought gnawed at him. How could he propose to her without a ring? It felt incomplete, as though he hadn’t given her what she truly deserved. Eren furrowed his brow, pulling back slightly to look at her. Aurora, her eyes still shimmering with unshed tears of joy, gazed up at him with so much love it nearly took his breath away.

“I just realized,” Eren said softly, brushing a thumb against her cheek, “I didn’t even give you a ring. That’s not how I wanted to do this.”

Aurora’s eyes softened, and she shook her head slightly, placing her hand over his. “Eren, I don’t need a ring,” she whispered. “All I need is you. You’ve given me more than I could ever ask for.”

But Eren wasn’t satisfied. He wanted to give her more. She deserved more. She deserved something to symbolize what they had, something tangible that she could keep with her always, even if the world around them crumbled.

“No,” Eren said, his voice firmer now, determination filling his gaze. “You deserve a proper proposal. I want you to have something… something to remind you that I’m yours, and you’re mine. Even if…” He trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought that hung in the air— even if something happens to me during the war .

Aurora frowned, sensing his unease, but she didn’t argue. She knew Eren was resolute once he set his mind on something. She also knew that he needed to do this, not just for her, but for himself.

Eren gently cupped her face in his hands, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her heart flutter. “I’ll go get you a ring,” he said. “It won’t take long, but I want to do this right. You deserve it.”

Aurora nodded slowly, her heart swelling with affection for him. “Okay,” she whispered. “But please… be careful.”

Eren smiled softly, pressing his forehead against hers. “Always,” he promised.

With that, Eren pulled away, a new determination filling him. He had to find a ring for Aurora, and soon. The Raid on Liberio was drawing closer, and time was running short, but this was something he had to do. For her. For them.

He grabbed his jacket and made his way toward the door. As he turned the knob, he looked back at Aurora, who stood in the doorway of the cabin, watching him with a soft smile on her face. “I’ll be back before you know it,” Eren said, his voice warm.

Aurora smiled, nodding. “I’ll be waiting.”

Eren stepped outside, the cool evening air hitting his face as he pulled the hood of his jacket over his head. His mind was already racing with possibilities. He didn’t have much time, but he would find something perfect for Aurora. She deserved that much and more.

Liberio was a bustling city, and if he kept his disguise as a wounded Eldian soldier, he could move through the streets relatively unnoticed. But Eren also knew he had to be careful. With Marleyan soldiers patrolling the area more frequently in preparation for the festival, there were risks.

Still, nothing would stop him from getting that ring.

He moved swiftly through the darkened streets, his eyes scanning the shops and market stalls as he passed. His heart pounded in his chest, not from fear of being caught, but from the excitement of knowing that he was about to give Aurora something that would bind them together forever.

After what felt like hours of searching, Eren finally spotted a small, unassuming shop tucked away at the edge of the market. The sign above the door was faded, but it caught his attention—a jeweler.

Eren pushed open the door, the soft chime of a bell ringing as he stepped inside. The shop was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of old wood and metal. Behind the counter stood an older man, his face lined with age and experience, but his eyes sharp and observant. He glanced up at Eren, his gaze lingering on the Eldian armband Eren wore as part of his disguise, but he didn’t say anything.

“Looking for something specific?” the jeweler asked, his voice rough but not unkind.

Eren nodded, stepping forward. “A ring,” he said simply. “For… for someone special.”

The jeweler raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t ask questions. Instead, he turned and pulled out a small box filled with rings, setting it on the counter. “These are what I have,” he said. “Not much, but they’re well-crafted.”

Eren’s eyes scanned the rings, his heart racing as he searched for something that felt right. His gaze landed on a simple silver band with a small, delicate sapphire embedded in the center. It wasn’t overly extravagant, but it was beautiful, and something about it reminded him of Aurora—the way her blue eyes sparkled when she smiled, the quiet strength she carried with her.

“This one,” Eren said, his voice steady as he pointed to the ring.

The jeweler nodded, pulling the ring from the box and handing it to him. “Good choice,” he said, his tone approving. “That’ll be two silvers.”

Eren handed over the money without hesitation, his hands closing around the ring as he slipped it into his pocket. As he turned to leave, the jeweler called out after him.

“Hope it works out for you, lad,” he said, his voice softer now.

Eren didn’t respond, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he stepped back into the night.

As he made it back to the cabin, the cool night air still clinging to his clothes, he felt a nervous flutter in his chest. His hand closed around the small ring in his pocket, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He had returned to Aurora, but this time, it wasn’t just with words. He had something tangible, something real—a ring that symbolized the depth of his love for her.

Aurora was sitting at the small table by the window, her soft blonde hair catching the dim light of the lantern. She looked up when she heard him enter, a gentle smile spreading across her face. Her eyes sparkled as they always did when she saw him, a sight that made Eren’s heart swell every time.

“You’re back,” she said softly, standing from her seat. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Eren nodded, his throat tightening slightly as he walked toward her. He felt the weight of the ring in his pocket, the significance of what he was about to do settling into him. This wasn’t like the impulsive proposal he had made before, driven by raw emotion. This was different. This was deliberate, intentional. He wanted to make this moment everything Aurora deserved.

He stopped a few feet from her, his hand still in his pocket, and took a deep breath. Aurora tilted her head slightly, her expression curious, but there was a softness in her eyes as she watched him.

“Aurora,” Eren began, his voice low and steady. “I know I already asked you this before, but I didn’t do it the right way. I didn’t give you the proposal you deserve.”

Aurora’s smile faded slightly as she listened, her brows knitting together in confusion. “Eren… you don’t have to—”

But before she could finish, Eren reached into his pocket, pulling out the ring. Her eyes widened as she saw it, her breath catching in her throat. He stepped closer, his heart pounding as he held the ring in his hand, the small sapphire catching the light.

“I want to do this right,” he said quietly, his voice filled with emotion. “You’re the most important person in my life, Aurora. You always have been, ever since we were kids. And now that you’re back in my life… I can’t imagine a future without you.”

Aurora’s eyes began to glisten with tears as she listened, her hand covering her mouth as she realized what was happening.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future,” Eren continued, his voice soft but filled with determination. “I don’t know if I’ll survive the war, or what the world will look like when it’s all over. But I do know one thing—I want to spend whatever time I have left with you. I want to marry you, Aurora. I want to make you my wife.”

With that, Eren slowly lowered himself to one knee, his eyes never leaving hers. He held the ring up to her, the silver band catching the faint glow of the lantern.

“Aurora,” he said, his voice shaking slightly but filled with love, “will you marry me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Aurora stared down at him, her hand still covering her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. She felt so overwhelmed with happiness. Eren, the boy she had loved since they were children, the man who had saved her in every way possible, was on one knee, asking her to be his wife.

She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They spilled down her cheeks as she lowered her hand, a smile breaking through the tears. Her heart swelled with so much love, she thought it might burst.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Yes, Eren. I’ll marry you.”

Eren’s heart soared at her words, and he felt a wave of relief and happiness wash over him. With trembling hands, he gently slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly, as if it had been made just for her.

Aurora stared at the ring for a moment, her chest tightening with emotion. She looked back at Eren, her eyes filled with so much love it made his breath catch.

Eren rose to his feet, pulling her into his arms once again. He held her tightly, his face buried in her hair as he breathed in the familiar, comforting scent of her. They stood there in silence for a long moment, the weight of their love filling the small cabin.

Aurora pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, her hands resting on his chest. Her heart was still racing, but there was a sense of peace that came with knowing they were bound together now, not just by words, but by a promise.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice soft but filled with certainty.

Eren smiled, his hand gently cupping her cheek as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “I love you too,” he whispered back, his voice rough with emotion. “More than anything.”

As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside faded away. It didn’t matter that war was looming, that danger surrounded them at every turn. In that moment, all that mattered was that they were together, and that they had promised themselves to each other.

Eren didn’t know what the future held. He didn’t know if he would survive the battles to come, if his plan to destroy Marley and secure the freedom of Paradis would succeed. But as long as he had Aurora by his side, he knew he could face anything.

No matter what happened, he would protect her. He would build the world they deserved, no matter the cost.

And now, with Aurora’s hand in his, he knew they could face that future together.

Chapter Text

Chapter Nine

The day of Eren and Aurora’s wedding arrived quietly, with no fanfare, no audience, and no grand celebrations. It was a simple, intimate moment in a world that had been filled with nothing but chaos and destruction. But for them, it was perfect.

Aurora had spent the morning in their cabin, preparing in silence. She had gathered wildflowers from the garden and the woods, weaving them into a simple but beautiful bouquet, the vibrant petals adding a splash of color to the day. Her dress was white and modest, something she had managed to piece together from fabric they had scavenged over time. The dress wasn’t extravagant, but it was elegant in its simplicity, fitting her figure in a way that accentuated her natural beauty.

As she stood in front of the small, cracked mirror they had in the cabin, Aurora took a deep breath, her fingers gently smoothing over the fabric of her dress. The reality of what was about to happen settled over her—she was about to marry Eren. The boy she had known since childhood, the man she had fallen in love with, the person who had saved her in more ways than one. Her heart swelled at the thought .

Outside, Eren was waiting by the lake they had chosen for the ceremony. It was a spot they had discovered not long after they moved into the cabin, a place that felt peaceful, away from the horrors of the world. A large, ancient tree stood near the water’s edge, its branches sweeping down toward the surface of the lake, creating a canopy of leaves that provided shade and a sense of tranquility. It was the perfect place for their vows.

Eren had dressed simply for the occasion, wearing a plain white dress shirt and dark pants he had managed to acquire during his time undercover. There was no need for anything fancy, nothing to distract from the moment. His hair was tied back, a few loose strands falling around his face, and his eyes were focused on the tree, waiting for Aurora.

The elderly clergyman Eren had found stood nearby, quietly preparing for the ceremony. He hadn’t asked too many questions, assuming that Eren and Aurora were just a young couple in love, looking to be married in secret. Eren had given the man his undercover name, Eren Kruger, to keep their true identities hidden. The clergyman had simply nodded, happy to perform the service without prying.

When Eren heard the soft rustle of leaves behind him, he turned, and his breath caught in his throat.

Aurora was walking toward him, the wildflower bouquet in her hands, her white dress flowing softly around her as she moved. The sunlight filtering through the trees illuminated her like something out of a dream, casting a golden glow on her platinum blonde hair and the soft curves of her figure. She looked ethereal, breathtaking, and Eren couldn’t help but stare, his heart swelling with so much love it almost hurt.

Aurora met his gaze, a soft smile spreading across her face as she walked toward him. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched the bouquet. But as she drew closer to Eren, all of her nerves seemed to melt away. This was where she was meant to be—by his side, always.

When she finally reached him, Eren took her hand, his fingers gently intertwining with hers. He couldn’t stop the small, awestruck smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

Aurora blushed, her smile widening as she glanced down shyly. “Thank you,” she whispered back, her heart fluttering at the tenderness in his voice. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

Eren chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. For a moment, they just stood there, gazing at each other, the world around them falling away. It didn’t matter that they were in the middle of enemy territory. It didn’t matter that war was looming on the horizon. Right now, in this moment, all that mattered was them.

The clergyman cleared his throat gently, reminding them that the ceremony was about to begin. Eren and Aurora turned to face him, their hands still tightly clasped together.

The ceremony was short and simple, but it was perfect for them. The clergyman spoke softly, reading the vows that had been spoken by countless others before them. But for Eren and Aurora, the words carried a special weight. They weren’t just vows to love and cherish each other—they were promises to protect one another, to stand by each other in a world filled with danger and uncertainty.

When it came time for their vows, Eren turned to Aurora, his eyes soft but filled with unwavering resolve. He squeezed her hand gently, his voice low but steady as he spoke. “Aurora, from the moment we found each other again, I knew I couldn’t live without you. You’ve been my light in a world full of darkness, and I swear, I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. I’ll give you the world, no matter what it costs. I love you, and I always will.”

Aurora’s eyes filled with tears as she listened to him, her heart aching with love for the man standing before her. She took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke her own vows. “Eren, you’ve saved me in more ways than you’ll ever know. You’ve given me hope when I thought I had none left. I love you more than anything in this world, and I promise to stand by your side, no matter what. I’ll love you forever.”

The clergyman smiled softly at the two of them before he spoke the final words that would seal their bond. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Eren didn’t hesitate. He gently cupped Aurora’s face in his hands, his fingers brushing against her soft skin as he leaned in and kissed her. It was a slow, tender kiss, filled with all the love and promises they had just spoken to each other. Aurora melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back, her heart soaring.

When they finally pulled away, Eren rested his forehead against hers, a small, contented smile on his lips. “Mrs. Aurora Jaeger,” he whispered, his voice filled with pride and love.

Aurora smiled, her heart swelling at the sound of her new name. “Mrs. Aurora Jaeger,” she echoed softly, her voice filled with the same pride and love.

They stood there beneath the large, ancient tree, the lake shimmering in the background, the world around them quiet and still. For the first time in a long time, Eren felt at peace. He had Aurora, the woman he loved, and she was now his wife.

But even in this moment of happiness, Eren’s resolve hadn’t wavered. The Raid on Liberio was less than a month away, and the weight of that mission still loomed over him. But now, with Aurora by his side, he felt more determined than ever to see it through. He would do whatever it took to protect her, to create a world where they could live together in peace. Even if it meant burning everything else to the ground.

The clergyman gave them one last smile and blessing before he turned and left. And as the newlyweds walked hand in hand back to their cabin, Eren couldn’t help but feel that, despite the war, despite the bloodshed that awaited them, they had won something today. They had won each other .

And that, above all else, was worth fighting for.

…

Later on that night, Eren led Aurora through the small garden behind their cabin, his hand warm and steady in hers as they stepped onto the soft grass. The moon hung full and bright in the sky, casting a silver glow over everything, making the scene before them feel even more magical. Aurora gasped softly as they came into view of the surprise Eren had prepared—a simple but romantic setup that made her heart swell with love and happiness.

There, under the soft light of the moon, was a nest of blankets and pillows, surrounded by the soft glow of candles. Wildflower petals, gathered from the surrounding woods, were scattered across the blankets in delicate patterns. Everything was laid out carefully, as if Eren had put his heart and soul into creating this moment for her. It was simple, but it was perfect. A gesture of love that left her speechless.

“Eren…” Aurora whispered, her voice filled with awe. “I… I didn’t know you planned this. It’s beautiful.”

Eren smiled, a rare, soft smile that only she ever saw. “I wanted to do something special,” he said, his voice low and full of affection. “I know we can’t have a honeymoon, not like a normal couple. But I thought… maybe this would make tonight a little better.”

Aurora’s heart swelled with emotion as she looked up at him. The man who had been through so much, who had the weight of the world on his shoulders, had taken the time to create something so beautiful, just for her. For them.

Eren moved away to light the candles, the soft flicker of the flames adding a warm glow to the moonlit garden. As he knelt down to light the last candle, Aurora watched him, her heart pounding softly in her chest. She hadn’t known what to expect tonight, but as she stood there, watching the man she loved more than anything, something inside her stirred.

Eren was always so careful with her, always putting her comfort above everything else, and she loved him for that. He never pushed her, never expected more than she was ready to give. But tonight… tonight she wanted to be close to him in a way she had never been before. She wanted to share herself with him completely, to show him how much she loved and trusted him.

When Eren finished lighting the candles and stood, Aurora felt a surge of emotion wash over her. She moved toward him, her bare feet softly brushing against the grass as she closed the distance between them. Without hesitation, she placed her hands gently on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. Eren looked down at her, his eyes soft but questioning.

“Aurora?” he whispered, his voice low, filled with concern and affection.

She looked up at him, her heart racing but steady in its certainty. Her blue eyes, reflecting the soft glow of the candlelight, met his gaze, and Eren could see everything she felt in that moment—the love, the trust, and the desire. It was written in every line of her face, in the way her hands trembled slightly against him, in the way her lips parted as she tried to find the right words.

“I want to be with you, Eren,” she whispered, her voice soft but full of emotion. “I want to be close to you… in every way.”

Eren’s breath caught in his throat at her words, his heart thudding in his chest as he processed what she was saying. He had always been so careful, always holding back because he didn’t want to push her into anything she wasn’t ready for. Even now, on their wedding night, he had prepared himself to wait, to take things at her pace. But hearing her say those words, seeing the love and trust in her eyes, made his heart ache with a love so strong it was almost overwhelming.

“Aurora… are you sure?” he asked gently, his voice low and filled with care. “We don’t have to do anything tonight if you’re not ready.”

Aurora smiled up at him, her heart full. She had never been more certain of anything in her life. “I’m sure, Eren,” she whispered. “I love you. And I trust you. I want this… I want you.”

Eren felt a rush of emotion surge through him, his eyes softening as he looked down at the woman he loved more than anything. Slowly, carefully, he reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently against her skin. He could see the love in her eyes, the desire, the trust. It made his heart ache with the need to protect her, to cherish her, to love her the way she deserved to be loved.

Without another word, he leaned down and kissed her, soft and slow, his lips moving gently against hers as he poured all of his love into that one kiss. Aurora responded immediately, her hands sliding up to his shoulders as she leaned into him, her heart racing with anticipation and love.

The kiss deepened, becoming more intense, more urgent, but always careful, always gentle. Eren’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer as the world around them seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, standing under the moonlight, surrounded by the warmth of the candles and the soft fragrance of the wildflowers.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to steady their racing hearts.

“I love you, Aurora,” Eren whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ve loved you for so long. I’ll always love you.”

Aurora smiled, her eyes filled with tears of happiness. “I love you too, Eren,” she whispered. 

Eren’s hands moved to her waist again, and slowly, he led her to the nest of blankets and pillows he had prepared. The candles flickered softly around them, casting a warm glow over the garden. Eren’s heart was racing, but it wasn’t just from desire. It was from the overwhelming love he felt for the woman sitting beside him.

As they lay down together, their bodies pressed close, Eren made sure to move slowly, giving Aurora every chance to stop if she wasn’t ready. But she never hesitated. Her hands moved to his chest, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscles as she looked up at him with a soft smile.

“I trust you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I want this.”

Eren nodded, his heart swelling with love and gratitude. His lips found Aurora’s again, slow and tender at first, as though savoring the sweetness of each kiss. His hand rested gently on her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin. Aurora’s heart pounded in her chest, her fingers tangling in Eren’s hair as she responded to his kisses with growing intensity. Each kiss seemed to pull them closer, the connection between them deepening as their bodies pressed together.

The warmth of Eren’s touch sent shivers down Aurora’s spine, and she felt herself melting under the weight of his affection. There was something so gentle, so deliberate in the way he kissed her, as if each touch of his lips was a silent declaration of the love he held for her.

Under the soft glow of the moon, Eren’s hands began to explore, his fingers brushing the curve of her waist, tracing delicate lines along her skin. Aurora felt a nervous flutter in her stomach as his hand moved to the small ties of her dress, and for a moment, she hesitated. This was the first time they had ever been this close, the first time she would bare herself completely to him.

But when she looked up into Eren’s eyes, all the fear and uncertainty melted away. His gaze was soft, filled with so much love and care that it made her heart ache. He wasn’t rushing her, wasn’t pushing her into anything—he was simply there, waiting, his love for her evident in every breath.

“You’re so beautiful,” Eren whispered against her lips, his voice low and filled with reverence.

Aurora blushed at his words, her heart racing as she nodded, silently giving him permission to continue. She trusted him completely—trusted him with her heart, her body, her soul.

With slow, gentle hands, Eren reached for the ties of her dress, his fingers working with care as he loosened the fabric. He moved slowly, giving Aurora time to adjust, time to let the moment sink in. As the dress fell away, pooling around her on the blankets, Eren’s breath caught in his throat.

The moonlight bathed her in a soft, ethereal glow, highlighting every curve, every line of her body. His eyes drank in everything, her soft skin, her supple breasts, the curve of her waist—it was all driving him wild. Aurora’s skin flushed under his gaze, but there was no shame, no fear—only love and trust. She looked up at Eren, her heart fluttering as she saw the passion and desire in his eyes. He was looking at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

Eren’s eyes roamed over her, drinking in the sight of her bare body with a mixture of awe and tenderness. His heart pounded in his chest as the raw emotion between them became almost overwhelming. He wanted to worship her, to show her just how much she meant to him.

Slowly, he leaned down, his lips brushing against her neck, then her collarbone, leaving a trail of soft kisses in his wake. Aurora shivered at the feel of his mouth on her skin, her hands gripping the blankets beneath her as she tried to contain the rush of emotions flooding through her.

Eren’s lips moved lower, kissing across her breasts, swirling his tongue around he sensitive nipples before leaving a trail of kisses down her stomach, each touch sending waves of warmth through her body. He moved with such care, such reverence, as though every inch of her deserved to be cherished. His lips found the soft skin of her thighs, and he left gentle love bites there, his hands resting gently on her hips.

Aurora’s breath hitched in her throat as she bit down on her lip, trying to contain the soft moans that threatened to escape. But Eren noticed, and he lifted his head, his eyes locking with hers, filled with a tender intensity.

“Don’t hold back,” he whispered, his voice husky. “I want to hear you, Aurora.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she nodded, her breath shaky as she let herself relax, let herself give in to the feelings swirling inside her. She trusted Eren with every part of her, and she wasn’t going to hide from him.

Eren kissed her again, slowly, tenderly, one of his hands moving to intertwine with hers as they lay together beneath the stars. The world outside no longer existed—there was only this moment, only the two of them wrapped up in their love, making memories that would last a lifetime.

His other hand moved with gentle care as he slowly parted Aurora's thighs, his gaze never leaving hers. The moonlight bathed them in a soft, ethereal glow, casting a serene stillness around them. His eyes flickered down to her hot core and he could see by the way it leaked , Aurora was very aroused . His heart was racing, not from haste or urgency, but from the overwhelming love and devotion he felt for the woman lying before him.

He settled himself between her legs, one hand still intertwined with hers. Eren wanted her to feel everything—to know that in this moment, she was the center of his world. He pressed soft kisses along her inner thighs, his lips brushing her skin like whispers of affection. Aurora’s breath hitched, and a soft sigh escaped her lips, her fingers tightening around his as a wave of emotion washed over her.

He could feel her trust in him, the openness in her body and her heart, and it filled him with a sense of awe and responsibility. Eren’s touch was tender, every move deliberate, as though he was worshipping the ground she lay upon. He was aware of her every reaction, every sigh, every tremble of her body as she responded to his gentle caresses.

“Aurora,” he whispered, his voice filled with reverence, as he pressed another soft kiss to her skin. The sound of her name on his lips sent shivers down her spine, and she let herself sink deeper into the moment, surrendering to the overwhelming warmth and safety that Eren provided.

Her fingers tightened around his as she felt the intensity of the connection between them growing. She had never felt this close to anyone before, and the trust she had in Eren, in this moment, made her heart swell.

Aurora's soft moans filled the quiet night air, growing louder with each tender caress and kiss Eren gave her. His movements were careful, deliberate, as though each touch was a silent declaration of how deeply he loved her. 

Eren’s mouth finally latched onto her core and Aurora’s back arched as she let out a loud moan–her free hand instinctively reaching down to grip in his hair tightly. Eren swirled his tongue around her clit and sucked on it gently. He loved the way she was responding to him . Eren then began dipping his tongue into her hot slit, reveling in the delicious flavor of her juices that were overflowing down her thighs.

Aurora’s breaths became shorter, her chest rising and falling with each wave of sensation that coursed through her body. Her mind swam with emotions, the overwhelming love she felt for Eren mixing with the pleasure that was building inside her. The connection between them felt like nothing she had ever experienced before—it was as though their souls were intertwined, bound together by the love they had for each other.

Eren never took his eyes off her, watching as she responded to his every touch. He could feel her body tensing, her breath catching in her throat as the sensation within her grew stronger, her moans becoming more intense. He squeezed her hand gently, a silent reassurance that he was there with her, guiding her through the moment.

“Eren…” Aurora whispered, her voice breathless, filled with both love and need.

He responded by sucking on her clit even harder, his touch filled with nothing but care and affection. And then, with a shuddering gasp, Aurora felt herself reaching that point of no return, her body arching as she gave in to the wave of pleasure that washed over her.

Eren felt her tremble beneath him, and he held onto her, not letting go as she reached her peak, her soft cries of ecstasy filling the air around them. Her body pulsed with the intensity of the moment, and Eren stayed with his head buried between her legs swallowing every drop of her climax. His hand which was still entwined with hers was grounding her as she slowly came down from the high.

When it was over, Aurora’s head collapsed back onto the blankets, her chest rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths. Her fingers were still tightly intertwined with Eren's, and she looked down at him, her face flushed, her eyes filled with both vulnerability and love.

Eren moved to lay beside her, pulling her into his arms as they lay together beneath the stars, the world quiet around them. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, holding her close, feeling her heart beating against his chest.

"I love you," Eren whispered, his voice low and filled with emotion.

Aurora smiled up at him, her heart full as she snuggled closer, resting her head against his shoulder. "I love you too, Eren. More than anything."

But even though she just had an intense orgasm…Aurora wanted more. And one look into Eren’s intense green eyes, she saw the desire swirling around in them— he wanted more too .

Aurora laid next to Eren, her nude form bare for him to drink in. Her platinum blonde hair cascading down her back like a waterfall, shimmering in the candlelight. Her heart raced as she looked up at Eren, her body trembling not out of fear, but out of the sheer anticipation of what was to come. She had never felt this vulnerable, yet with Eren, she knew she was safe. 

Eren’s breath hitched as his gaze swept over her, the sight of his bride filling him with a deep longing. His hands shook slightly as he removed his shirt, tossing it aside, revealing the toned, scarred muscles of his chest and arms. He had always been strong, but standing there with Aurora, he felt exposed in a way he never had before. His heart pounded in his chest as he slipped out of his pants, the cool air brushing against his skin.

Aurora’s eyes widened as she took him in fully, her gaze dropping to his manhood. She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing a deep red. The sheer size of him made her wonder if it would even fit, and she knew it would probably hurt, but despite the nervousness fluttering in her chest, she wanted this—wanted him. She had never felt so connected to anyone, and tonight, under the stars, she would give herself completely to him.

Eren was already trembling with desire, his body tense with anticipation as he gently pushed Aurora onto her back on the soft blankets. She let out a soft gasp as she lay back, the cool grass beneath the blankets grounding her. Eren moved over her, his hands trailing over her body with a reverence that made her heart swell. His touch was soft, but there was an underlying intensity to it, as if he was holding back the storm of emotions surging within him.

He hovered over her, his forehead resting against hers for a moment, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the night. His hand caressed her cheek, thumb brushing over her soft skin. “I love you, Aurora,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“I love you too, Eren,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of her words was undeniable.

Eren positioned himself between her legs, his hands gripping her thighs gently as he wrapped them around his waist. He lined himself up with her, the tip of his hardened length pressing against her core, and they both sucked in a breath. The sensation was foreign to both of them, but the desire to be closer, to become one, pushed them forward.

He moved slowly, pushing inside her inch by inch. Aurora gasped, her fingers digging into his back. The feeling was intense, a mixture of pleasure and pain as her body adjusted to him. Eren, too, hissed at the sensation, his brows furrowed in concentration as he fought to maintain control. The pleasure was overwhelming, more than anything he had ever imagined, but the last thing he wanted was to hurt her.

He paused, sensing her discomfort. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice strained but full of concern.

Aurora nodded, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. “It’s okay, Eren,” she reassured him, though her breath was shaky. “I want this. I want you.”

With her permission, Eren continued, pushing deeper until he was fully sheathed inside her. They both let out a simultaneous moan, the feeling of being connected so intimately overwhelming them. Eren stayed still for a moment, letting Aurora adjust to his size. He could see the tension in her expression, but also the determination. She was strong, his Aurora —stronger than anyone he had ever known.

After a few moments, Aurora shifted beneath him, her body relaxing as she got used to the sensation. She gave him a small nod, signaling that she was ready. Eren began to move, slowly at first, his movements measured as he fought the urge to lose himself in the pleasure. Each thrust sent waves of sensation through both of them, the connection between them growing deeper with every moment.

Aurora gasped as he picked up the pace slightly, her hands gripping his shoulders as she arched her back into him. “Eren,” she moaned softly, her voice laced with both pleasure and longing.

Hearing her say his name in that way nearly undid him. His control wavered, and he found himself moving faster, his thrusts growing harder, more desperate. He was gripping her tightly now, his hands roaming her body as if he couldn’t get close enough. He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers in a fervent kiss, their breaths mingling as he murmured against her lips, “I love you, I love you so much.”

Aurora’s body trembled beneath him as she felt herself nearing the edge, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel Eren’s body tensing as well, his movements becoming more erratic as he fought to hold back. But when she whispered his name again, pleading for him, he finally let go.

They reached their climaxes together, Aurora crying out softly as her body tightened around him, the sensation sending Eren over the edge. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin as he released inside her, the world around them fading away until it was just the two of them, lost in each other.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. They lay there beneath the stars, their bodies tangled together, hearts racing as they came down from the high of their union. Eren held Aurora close, his hand stroking her hair as he whispered her name softly, over and over again, like a prayer.

In that moment, everything else—the war, the chaos, the destruction—seemed far away. Here, in the garden of the cabin he built for them, under the infinite starry sky and the blessing of the full moon, they were simply Eren and Aurora. Husband and Wife . And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Eren felt a glimmer of peace.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

Eren had spent his entire life chasing after the elusive concept of freedom. From the moment he was a child, he had yearned to break free from the walls, from the terror of the Titans, from the weight of the world pressing down on his people. He had fought, bled, and suffered for it. But now, standing in the middle of a field where the flowers were blooming, with Aurora by his side, he realized that true freedom wasn’t just the absence of walls or the defeat of enemies. It was this . It was being with the person he loved, in a moment untouched by war or fear.

Three days had passed since their wedding, and those three days had been the best of Eren’s life. Every moment he spent with Aurora as his wife felt precious, like time had slowed down just for them. He didn’t know what the future held, and he didn’t care right now. For once, he wasn’t thinking about the Raid on Liberio, the War Hammer Titan, or even the looming threat of Marley. His world had shrunk down to just Aurora, the woman he loved more than anything, and the peace they had found in these fleeting moments together.

He wanted to give her something— anything that could resemble a honeymoon, despite the circumstances. So he brought her to the fields where the flowers were blooming, knowing how much she loved her plants. Aurora’s eyes lit up as soon as they arrived, her excitement palpable as she practically bounced on her feet, turning to him with a wide smile.

“Oh, Eren!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with joy. “Look at all of them! The flowers are blooming so beautifully!”

She rushed toward the meadow, her dress flowing behind her as she moved, her hands reaching out to gently touch the petals of the flowers. Eren followed her at a slower pace, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he watched her. Aurora, his wife . She was everything to him now. If he was the devil, the embodiment of destruction and wrath, then she was his angel—the light that kept him grounded in a world that threatened to tear him apart.

Aurora twirled in the field, her laughter filling the air as she spun, the flowers surrounding her like a sea of color. Her dress fanned out around her as she moved, the soft fabric catching the sunlight in a way that made her look almost ethereal, like a being out of a dream. Eren watched her, his heart swelling with so much love and admiration that it almost overwhelmed him.

“ She’s perfect ,” he thought, the words echoing in his mind as he stood there, rooted in place. “ She’s everything .”

Aurora stopped twirling for a moment, her eyes catching sight of a particular flower she recognized. With a grin, she rushed over to it, crouching down to inspect it more closely. “Eren, look! It’s an Eryngium!” she called out, her excitement bubbling over. “I’ve been looking for this one! I read about it in one of my books.”

Eren chuckled softly, moving to stand beside her. “You’ve really memorized all these, huh?”

Aurora nodded, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “I’ve spent so much time studying the fauna around here that I’ve almost mastered it,” she said proudly. “There’s just something so calming about knowing the names of the plants and flowers. It makes me feel… connected to this place.”

Eren crouched beside her, watching as she gently touched the flower, her fingers delicate and careful. He admired the way she found joy in the smallest things, how she could find beauty in a world that had shown her so much cruelty. Her ability to find happiness in the simple act of identifying flowers was something Eren deeply cherished. It reminded him that not everything had to be about war, about fighting and surviving. There was still beauty in the world—beauty that Aurora showed him every day.

“I’m glad,” Eren said softly, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’m glad you found something you love here.”

Aurora looked up at him, her smile softening as she reached out to take his hand. “I found something else I love here too,” she whispered, her voice filled with affection.

Eren’s heart skipped a beat at her words, and he felt the familiar warmth spreading through his chest. He squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “I love you too, Aurora,” he whispered.

She stood up, pulling Eren up with her, and with a gleeful laugh, she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Eren wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close as she kissed him—quick, excited pecks on his lips and cheeks. Her happiness was contagious, and soon Eren found himself laughing with her, his heart lighter than it had been in years.

Aurora pulled back slightly, her eyes shining as she looked up at him. “Thank you for bringing me here,” she said, her voice soft but filled with sincerity. “It means so much to me.”

Eren smiled down at her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “You deserve this, Aurora. You deserve everything.”

Aurora’s eyes shimmered with emotion, and she leaned up to kiss him again, this time slower, more deliberate. Eren’s hands tightened around her waist as he deepened the kiss, pouring all of his love and devotion into it. When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they shared a moment of quiet contentment.

For the first time in his life, Eren felt truly free. Not the freedom he had always imagined as a child, where there were no walls and no enemies. This was different . This was a freedom born of love, of being with someone who accepted him for everything he was, even the darkest parts. Aurora didn’t see him as a devil or a monster—she saw him as Eren, the boy she had known since childhood, the man who loved her with every fiber of his being.

As they stood there, surrounded by the blooming flowers and the soft breeze that rustled through the meadow, Eren felt complete. For so long, he had been searching for something—freedom, peace, a sense of belonging. And now, he had found it. He had found it in Aurora .

He watched as she twirled again, her laughter ringing out through the meadow, her dress spinning around her in the most beautiful way. She was his angel, his light, the one thing in this world that made him feel alive. Eren’s heart swelled with love and protectiveness as he watched her, and he made a silent promise to himself.

No matter what happened, no matter the cost, he would protect her. He would give her the world she deserved.

…

Eren and Aurora sat together in the meadow, the soft blanket beneath them spread out over the field of flowers, a gentle breeze rustling the petals around them. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over everything, making the entire scene feel almost dreamlike. Aurora had made sandwiches for their little outing, and she sat perched comfortably on Eren’s lap, her legs draped across him, a playful smile on her lips as she fed him a piece of the sandwich.

“Come on, Eren,” Aurora teased, holding the small bite just in front of his lips. “Say ‘ah.’”

Eren couldn’t help but smile at her playful tone, his heart swelling with affection for her. He had never seen her this happy, this carefree. Aurora had always been gentle and kind, but here, as his wife, she was also flirtatious and playful in a way that made his chest tighten with love. She was truly glowing, the joy of being newly married evident in every movement, every smile, every laugh.

He leaned forward slightly, taking the bite she offered him, his eyes never leaving hers. Aurora giggled softly, her fingers brushing against his lips as he chewed, her laughter like music to his ears.

“You’re going to spoil me if you keep feeding me like this,” Eren said, his voice soft and full of warmth. He adored how lighthearted she was, how happy she seemed just to be with him, to share these simple moments together.

Aurora grinned, her blue eyes twinkling mischievously. “Well, I am your wife now. It’s my job to spoil you, isn’t it?” she teased, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek before offering him another bite.

Eren chuckled, shaking his head slightly, but the warmth in his chest only grew. He couldn’t help but admire the way she was so full of life, so radiant. Every moment he spent with her was precious, a reminder of why he was fighting, why he had made the choices he had. This—this joy, this love—was what he wanted to protect.

“I think you’re doing a pretty good job of it,” he murmured, his voice laced with affection as he brushed a strand of her hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek for a moment. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

Aurora’s cheeks flushed a soft pink at his words, and she giggled again, leaning into his touch. “You’re just saying that because I’m feeding you,” she joked, though the tenderness in her eyes told him she appreciated his words.

“No, I mean it,” Eren said, his expression softening as he gazed at her. “You’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be.”

Aurora’s playful smile faltered slightly, replaced by a look of deep affection as she set the sandwich down beside them. She shifted in his lap so that she could face him more fully, her hands resting on his shoulders as she met his gaze.

“I feel the same way,” she whispered, her voice softer now, filled with sincerity. “These last few days… they’ve been the happiest of my life, Eren. I never imagined I’d get to feel this way again.”

Eren’s heart clenched at her words, the memory of everything she had endured, everything they had both endured, flashing through his mind. He reached up, cupping her face in his hands as he leaned his forehead against hers, his voice low but firm.

“You deserve this happiness, Aurora. You deserve so much more.”

Aurora closed her eyes for a moment, her fingers tightening slightly on his shoulders as she breathed in his presence, feeling the warmth and strength of him beneath her hands. When she opened her eyes again, there was a flicker of something deeper in her gaze—love, yes, but also determination.

“We deserve it, Eren,” she whispered. “Both of us. And no matter what happens, I’ll be by your side. Always.”

Eren’s chest tightened at her words, the weight of her promise sinking into him. It wasn’t just love between them—it was a bond forged through shared struggles, through loss, through the determination to survive in a world that had given them so little.

He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her waist as he buried his face in her hair, breathing her in. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Aurora smiled softly against him, her hands moving to rest on his chest as she leaned back slightly to look at him. “You’ve always been there for me, Eren. Since we were kids. You’ve always protected me, even when you didn’t know you would find me again. And now… I’ll protect you too.”

Eren’s heart swelled with emotion at her words, and for a moment, he could hardly speak. He simply held her, his fingers gently tracing patterns along her back as they sat together in the meadow, the world around them forgotten. In that moment, nothing else mattered—no war, no enemies, no uncertain future. It was just the two of them, wrapped up in each other, in their love.

Aurora eventually pulled back, her smile returning as she grabbed another piece of the sandwich and held it up to him again, her playful energy returning. “Now, finish your food, Mr. Jaeger,” she said with a wink. “You’ll need your strength.”

Eren laughed, shaking his head but leaning forward to take the bite she offered him, his heart lighter than it had been in years. As he chewed, Aurora leaned her head against his shoulder, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

“I could stay here forever,” she murmured softly, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his arm. “With you.”

Eren smiled down at her, his heart filled with warmth as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Me too,” he whispered. “Me too.”

And as they sat there in the field of blooming flowers, the sun beginning to set behind them, Eren couldn’t help but think that this—this peace, this love—was worth fighting for. Aurora was worth fighting for . 

…

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the fields, Eren and Aurora made their way back toward the cabin. The walk was peaceful, with the soft sounds of nature surrounding them, and Aurora’s voice filled the quiet as she talked excitedly about her latest experiments with the elixirs.

“I think if I add just a little more of the yarrow root, it could increase the potency,” Aurora said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “But I’m also considering trying a new method of drying the herbs. That way, I can preserve their strength for longer periods. Imagine how much more effective the elixirs could be!”

Eren walked beside her, listening with a soft smile on his face. He loved hearing her talk about her work, seeing the passion in her eyes. It was one of the many things he adored about her—how deeply she cared about her craft, how much joy it brought her to create something with her own hands. It was so different from the world he was used to, a world full of violence and survival. With Aurora, there was gentleness, and her elixirs were just another way she showed that she valued life.

“You’ve been amazing with all of this,” Eren said, his voice filled with admiration. “I can’t believe how much you’ve learned in such a short time.”

Aurora beamed at him, her eyes filled with warmth. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you, Eren. You’ve given me the chance to focus on my work, to feel safe again.” She looked up at him, her expression softening. “You’ve given me so much.”

Eren felt his heart swell with affection, and without a second thought, he stopped walking and scooped Aurora up into his arms. Her surprised gasp turned into a laugh as she wrapped her arms around his neck, looking up at him with wide, playful eyes.

“Eren!” she exclaimed, giggling as she tried to steady herself in his arms. “What are you doing?”

Eren looked down at her with a mischievous smile, his arms holding her securely against his chest. “You looked so happy, I figured I’d make you feel even more like the princess you are,” he said, his voice soft but teasing. “You deserve it, Aurora.”

Aurora’s heart fluttered at his words, and she smiled up at him, her hands tightening around his neck as she settled into his embrace. “You’re always so sweet to me,” she whispered, her voice filled with affection. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Eren chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he began walking again, carrying her easily in his arms. “You’ve always deserved to be treated like this,” he said, his voice a little more serious now. “You’ve been through so much, and you still manage to find joy in the small things. You deserve to be happy, Aurora.”

Aurora felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, not from sadness but from the overwhelming love she felt for Eren in that moment. He had always been her protector, her rock, and now he was her husband, the man who loved her with everything he had. She leaned her head against his chest, closing her eyes as she let the warmth of his presence wash over her.

“I love you, Eren,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the soft rustling of the wind.

Eren’s grip on her tightened slightly, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “I love you too,” he whispered back. “More than anything.”

The cabin came into view as they rounded the last bend in the path, its simple structure illuminated by the soft glow of the fading sun. It wasn’t much, but to them, it was home. A place where they could be together, away from the chaos and danger of the world.

As Eren carried Aurora across the threshold of their cabin, a playful smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I suppose this is the part where I say something about carrying you over the threshold, right?”

Aurora giggled, her eyes twinkling with happiness. “You’re a little late for that, but I’ll forgive you,” she teased, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

Eren gently set her down inside the cabin, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment as he looked into her eyes. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, his voice low and full of warmth.

Aurora smiled up at him, her heart full as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You already have,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly.

Their lips met and the world outside seemed to fade away once again, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in each other’s love. It was moments like this—small, quiet moments—that made everything they had gone through feel worth it. Aurora’s giggles filled the quiet room, a sound that made Eren’s heart race with joy. Their playful energy from the meadow seemed to follow them, and every kiss, every touch between them was filled with laughter and love.

Eren’s hands roamed over her waist, feeling the soft fabric of her dress beneath his fingertips as he pulled her closer. Aurora’s hands were in his hair, her fingers tangling gently as she pressed herself against him, their kisses becoming more urgent. Eren couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t get enough of the way she smiled between each kiss, the way she fit so perfectly in his arms.

Without thinking, Eren’s hands slipped lower, resting on the curve of her hips before trailing down to the small of her back. He felt a surge of affection and desire, and his grip tightened as he squeezed her rear through the fabric of her dress. Aurora let out a surprised squeal, her giggles bubbling up again as she pulled back slightly to look at him, her eyes shining with playful mischief.

“Eren!” she exclaimed, a mock scolding tone in her voice, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

Eren grinned down at her, his hands still resting on her hips as he held her close. “I couldn’t help myself,” he said, his voice soft but full of affection. “You’re just too irresistible.”

Aurora’s heart fluttered at his words, and she felt her cheeks flush with warmth. Despite their playful teasing, there was so much love in Eren’s gaze, so much care in every touch. She leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back again, her eyes filled with a combination of love and teasing.

“Well, maybe I don’t mind so much,” she whispered, her voice soft and filled with affection.

Eren chuckled, leaning his forehead against hers as he held her close, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. “Good,” he whispered back, his hands resting gently on her waist now. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

Aurora smiled, her heart full as she wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head against his chest. The playful moment between them had shifted into something deeper, something more tender. They stood there in the quiet of their cabin, holding each other, the world outside forgotten for just a little while longer.

The weight of Eren’s love for Aurora pressed against him, and as he held her close, he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. She was his light in a world filled with darkness, and he knew—no matter what came next—he would protect her with everything he had.

They didn’t need words in that moment. The soft sound of their breathing, the warmth of their bodies pressed together, and the quiet beat of their hearts were enough to remind them of the love they shared.

In this moment, they were together. And that was all that mattered.

…

Eren lay still in the darkness, the quiet of the night wrapping around him like a heavy blanket. The only sounds were Aurora’s soft, even breaths as she slept soundly against his chest, her nude body draped across him, her skin warm and comforting. Eren held her close, his hand gently resting on her back, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing. She was at peace, lost in the deep sleep that came after another night of passionate lovemaking. The past few days of their marriage had been like a dream, a brief escape from the harsh reality that awaited them.

Eren wished, more than anything, that he could stay like this forever. Here, in the safety of their cabin, with Aurora resting peacefully in his arms, everything felt so right. For the first time in his life, he had found someone who truly understood him, who loved him despite everything. But deep down, he knew this moment couldn’t last. He couldn’t afford to stay still. The world was still moving, and the cruel truth of their situation loomed over them.

Eren’s gaze moved to the ceiling of the cabin, his thoughts drifting to what lay ahead. The festival in Liberio was just days away, and with it, the start of the raid. The plan he had set in motion would change everything—there would be no turning back. And as much as he wanted to protect Aurora from the horrors of the world, he knew that the only way to ensure their future was to keep fighting.

Because if he didn’t, everything would be lost .

Aurora. The Scouts. Paradis. They would all be slaughtered by the forces of Marley and the rest of the world. Eren couldn’t allow that to happen. He refused to let anyone take away the people he cared about, especially Aurora. His wife. His light. She had already suffered enough at the hands of others, and Eren had made a promise to himself that he would give her the life she deserved—a life where she could be free, where they could be free to love each other without fear of war or death.

His resolve, already strong before, had only deepened since marrying Aurora. These past few days had shown him what he was truly fighting for. And if becoming the devil was what it took to secure their future, then so be it. Eren had made his choice long ago, and nothing would stand in his way. He didn’t care if the world saw him as a monster, didn’t care if they called him the devil of Paradis. As long as Aurora was safe, as long as he could build a future where they could be together, he would do whatever it took.

Eren’s arm tightened slightly around Aurora as she stirred in her sleep, her soft body pressing closer to him. He closed his eyes, letting himself savor the warmth of her presence, the comfort of her closeness. These moments with her—these precious, fleeting moments of peace—were what fueled his resolve. They were what reminded him why he was doing all of this.

But he knew it wouldn’t last. The festival was just days away, and with it, the beginning of his plan to take down the Tybur family and claim the War Hammer Titan. It would be a turning point, a point of no return. He would have to say goodbye to this brief period of bliss and prepare for the chaos that would follow.

For now, though, Eren wasn’t ready to let go of this moment. He would make every second with Aurora count. He would treasure the remaining days they had before the storm hit. After all, this was what he was fighting for—this love, this connection, this future they both deserved.

As Aurora shifted in her sleep, her head nuzzling deeper into his chest, Eren pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. He wanted to protect this—her. He wanted to protect the life they could have together. And for that, he would fight with everything he had.

The weight of the world pressed down on him, but with Aurora in his arms, he felt stronger than ever.

“I’ll protect you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible in the quiet of the cabin. “I’ll protect you no matter what.”

And as the moonlight filtered through the small window, casting a soft glow over the room, Eren lay there, holding Aurora close, knowing that the days ahead would be brutal. But for now, in this moment, he allowed himself to just be with her—to love her, to cherish her. Because soon, the world would demand everything from him.

But he was ready. He had to be.

For her.

For them.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

The night had fallen gently over the cabin, casting a cool, tranquil glow through the windows as the soft light of the moon bathed everything in a silvery hue. Inside, the warmth from the hearth flickered, casting long shadows across the wooden walls. The air was still, almost suffocating in its silence, as if the world itself knew what was coming tomorrow. This was their last night in the cabin—their sanctuary, their home—and both Eren and Aurora felt the weight of it.

Aurora sat at the edge of the bed, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the patterns on the blanket beneath her. She could feel Eren’s presence nearby, watching her as he leaned against the doorframe, his eyes dark with thought. They both knew they couldn’t stay here, no matter how much they wanted to. The cabin had been a refuge from the outside world, a place where they could be themselves, away from the violence and chaos that awaited them.

But the festival was tomorrow, and everything was about to change.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” Aurora said softly, her voice breaking the silence. Her words hung in the air, filled with the unspoken desire to hold onto these fleeting moments of peace for just a little longer. She turned her head to look at Eren, her ice-blue eyes shimmering with unshed emotion.

Eren pushed himself off the doorframe and moved toward her, sitting beside her on the bed. He didn’t say anything at first, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames in the hearth. He wanted that too—more than anything. But he knew they couldn’t. They were out of time.

“We can’t stay,” he finally said, his voice low and resolute, though there was a hint of sadness in it. “But once this is all over... once it’s done... we’ll find a way to live without fear.” He turned to her, his hand finding hers and squeezing it gently. “That’s what I’m fighting for, Aurora. For us. For a world where we can be free.”

Aurora nodded, though the anxiety still churned in her stomach. She trusted Eren—of course she did. But the thought of tomorrow filled her with dread. She knew what Eren had to do, the lengths he was willing to go to in order to protect Paradis, and she understood the necessity of it. But she couldn’t shake the thought of all the innocent lives that would be lost in the process. The weight of it pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

“I know you’re doing this for us,” Aurora whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “But… so many people will die.”

Eren’s jaw tightened, and his hand gripped hers a little harder. He hated that she had to witness this, that she had to be part of the brutal reality he had accepted. But there was no turning back now. He would be the devil if that’s what it took to protect her. To give her the life she deserved.

“They’ve given us no choice,” Eren said, his voice cold with conviction. “Marley... the world outside the walls... they won’t stop until they’ve destroyed us. I won’t let that happen. Not to you. Not to the people I care about.”

Aurora lowered her head, her heart aching with the conflict of it all. She understood why Eren was doing this, but it didn’t make it any easier. Still, she trusted him—trusted that he was doing what he thought was right. And no matter how scared she was, she would stand by his side.

She looked up at him, her eyes softening. “I trust you, Eren.”

Eren’s gaze softened as well, and he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I’ll protect you,” he whispered against her skin, the promise as firm as steel. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He pulled back, his expression growing serious as he prepared to explain the plan to her. Tomorrow, the raid would begin, and everything had to go according to plan.

“I scouted a bell tower,” Eren began, his voice calm and steady as he laid out the details. “It’s not too far from the internment zone, and it’s abandoned. The underground section is sturdy—no one will find you there, and you’ll be safe from the collateral damage.” He paused, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’ll stay there until I come for you.”

Aurora swallowed hard, nodding as she listened. “And then what?”

“When I’m ready,” Eren continued, “I’ll ring the bell on the tower. That will be your signal. You’ll come to the top, and I’ll still be in my Titan form. I’ll pick you up and put you on the airship. The scouts will be there.”

Aurora’s heart raced at the thought of it. She trusted Eren with her life, but the plan still terrified her. The idea of being separated from him, of hiding in the bell tower while chaos unfolded above ground—it made her stomach twist in knots. And then there were his comrades. Aurora hadn’t met any of them, but Eren had told her about them—Mikasa, Armin, and the others. They were his family, but they didn’t know about her.

“What about... the scouts?” Aurora asked quietly, her voice trembling with uncertainty. “What will they say when they see me? They don’t know about us.”

Eren’s eyes darkened slightly, but his grip on her hand remained firm. “They won’t touch you,” he said, his voice leaving no room for doubt. “I’ll make sure of it. You’re my wife, Aurora. No one’s going to hurt you.”

Aurora wanted to believe him— she did believe him —but the anxiety still lingered. She wasn’t just worried about the scouts’ reaction to her; she was worried about everything. Tomorrow would be the start of something terrible, something they couldn’t come back from. But no matter what happened, she knew she had to trust Eren. She had to trust that he would protect her, just as he had promised.

“I’m scared, Eren,” Aurora admitted, her voice small.

Eren pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him. “I know,” he whispered, his chin resting on the top of her head. “I’m scared too. But we’ll get through this. I swear it.”

They stayed like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of tomorrow pressing down on them. This cabin had been their sanctuary, their little piece of peace in a world filled with chaos. And now they were leaving it behind, stepping into the unknown.

Aurora closed her eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of Eren, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her cheek. She wished they could stay like this forever, tucked away in their little cabin, far from the war and death that awaited them. But she knew better. The world wasn’t kind enough to let them have that .

“I love you,” she whispered against his chest, her voice barely audible.

Eren pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you too.”

They both knew that tomorrow would bring bloodshed and death, but for now, in this quiet moment, they allowed themselves to hold onto each other a little longer. They had this one last night in their cabin, this one last moment of peace before everything changed.

And when the morning came, Eren would wipe away all traces of them being here, and they would step into the storm that awaited them.

…

The Day of The Raid

The sun had begun its slow descent behind the horizon, casting the world in a warm, golden light. The sky was a gradient of soft oranges and deep purples, the kind of beauty that felt fleeting, as if the world itself was holding its breath before the storm. The festival was only hours away, and the quiet peace of the cabin— their sanctuary —was about to be left behind, consumed by the flames of necessity.

Aurora moved quietly through the small cabin, her hands carefully folding the few belongings she had. She had never accumulated much during their time here. Three simple dresses she had sewn herself, her elixirs and medicines, and her notebook filled with meticulous herbalism notes. She cradled the notebook close to her chest for a moment, feeling the weight of everything they had built here, even though it had been brief.

The cabin had been a haven for them—a place of love and safety amidst the chaos of the world. But now, it was time to leave it all behind. Aurora placed the last of her things in the small bag, her fingers lingering on the fabric as a deep sadness washed over her. This place had been their home, but they couldn’t stay. The world was calling them back into its brutality, and the thought of what was to come made her stomach twist.

Behind her, Eren stood by the hearth, his eyes focused on the flickering flames as he prepared to burn the cabin. His expression was grim, but resolute. This had to be done . No one could know they had been here, not a single trace could be left behind. As much as it hurt to destroy the place that had given them so much peace, Eren knew it was necessary.

“Aurora,” Eren called softly, turning to her. His voice, as always, was calm, but she could hear the underlying tension in it. He was trying to shield her from what was coming, but she knew him too well. She could see the weight of the plan pressing down on him.

Aurora approached him, her bag slung over her shoulder. She glanced around the small cabin one last time, taking in the familiar sights—the bed where they had shared so many nights together, the table where they had laughed and talked about the future, the windows that let in the soft light of the moon during their quietest moments. All of it would soon be gone, reduced to ash.

Eren’s hand found hers, his fingers intertwining with her own. He gave her a reassuring squeeze, his grip firm and steady. “It’s time.”

Aurora nodded, her throat tight as she followed him outside. The cool evening air kissed her skin, the last remnants of daylight casting a warm glow over the clearing where the cabin stood. The trees surrounding the cabin swayed gently in the breeze, as if they, too, were bidding farewell to this place.

Eren struck a match, lighting the edge of the woodpile he had prepared. The flames spread quickly, licking up the side of the cabin until they began to consume it. The fire roared to life, the crackling of wood and the smell of smoke filling the air. Aurora stood beside him, watching the flames dance and climb higher, the once-familiar sight of their home slowly disappearing beneath the blaze.

The heat from the fire washed over her, and as she looked at the flames, an overwhelming sense of guilt and dread settled in her chest. It felt like the destruction to come was reflected in this moment—the flames a symbol of the devastation that awaited the people of Liberio, the innocent lives that would be lost in the name of survival. Aurora’s heart ached, and her hands trembled as she clutched her bag tighter.

The cabin had been their refuge, their sanctuary, and now it was gone. The destruction of this small piece of their world was a prelude to the much larger storm that was about to unfold.

Aurora’s eyes welled up with unshed tears as she watched the cabin burn. “It’s all going to burn, isn’t it?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackling flames. “All those people… so many lives….”

Eren’s grip on her hand tightened, and he pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders protectively. He hated seeing her like this, hated that she felt the burden of the destruction he was about to unleash. But he knew there was no other way.

“None of this is your fault,” Eren murmured, his voice low and filled with conviction. “You don’t have to feel guilty about this, Aurora. You didn’t choose this. I did .”

Aurora leaned into him, resting her head against his chest as the flames continued to rise, casting flickering shadows across their faces. “But… so many innocent people… I don’t know if I can bear it.”

Eren’s jaw clenched as he held her, his gaze fixed on the fire. “I know it’s hard,” he said quietly. “But you don’t have to worry about them. I’ll carry that weight. All you need to do is stay safe. I promised you I would protect you, and I will. You don’t need to worry about anything else.”

Aurora nodded, though the heaviness in her chest remained. She understood why Eren was doing this, but it didn’t make it any easier. She didn’t want the blood of innocent people on her conscience, but she trusted Eren. She trusted that he was doing what he thought was right, even if it meant terrible things had to happen. But the guilt still gnawed at her, and the thought of so many lives lost made her heart ache.

Eren pulled back slightly, lifting her chin so that she was looking up at him. His expression softened, his eyes full of love and determination. “I’ll make sure everything’s okay. You don’t have to feel guilty about any of this. Just trust me.”

Aurora blinked away her tears, giving him a small nod. “I do trust you.”

Eren leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Good. That’s all I need.”

As the fire roared behind them, the cabin now fully engulfed in flames, Eren held Aurora close, shielding her from the destruction that surrounded them. He hated that she had to feel this way, hated that she was burdened by the violence that was about to come. But he would do everything in his power to keep her safe, to protect her from the horrors of the world.

The festival was hours away, and the plan was set in motion. But for now, in this moment, Eren focused on Aurora—on the woman he loved more than anything. The woman he would burn the world down for, if that’s what it took to keep her safe.

And as they stood there, watching the flames devour the cabin that had been their home, Aurora clung to Eren, her heart heavy but her trust in him unshaken. She knew that whatever was coming, she wouldn’t face it alone.

…

The streets of the internment zone were dark and quiet as Eren led Aurora through the narrow alleyways, his hand gripping hers tightly as they moved swiftly through the shadows. The bell tower loomed in the distance, an old, forgotten structure that had long been abandoned. It wasn’t much, but it was far enough from the port where Armin would unleash the Colossal Titan’s devastating power. Most importantly, it was secure—Eren had made sure of that.

Aurora followed him closely, her heart pounding in her chest. The enormity of what was about to happen weighed heavily on her, but Eren’s presence kept her grounded. She trusted him, even though she was scared. They passed by the dimly lit windows of Eldian families huddled together, unaware of the destruction that would soon rain down upon them. Aurora’s heart clenched with guilt, but she forced herself to keep moving. Eren had told her that the only thing she needed to worry about was staying safe. She had to trust him.

The bell tower stood tall against the darkening sky, the wooden beams creaking in the wind. It looked weathered, but sturdy. Eren had scouted it weeks ago, ensuring that the basement would be safe enough for Aurora to hide in while the chaos unfolded. He hated that he had to leave her alone, even for a short time, but this was the only way.

As they approached the tower, Eren led her down the narrow stone steps into the underground basement. The air was cool and smelled faintly of damp earth, but it was solid, fortified. It would keep Aurora safe from the carnage above. Eren had checked every inch of it, making sure there were no weak points, no places where debris could collapse in or enemies could find her. This was the safest place he could leave her.

Aurora set down her bag, looking around the dimly lit space with apprehension. She didn’t want to be left alone, not now. But she knew Eren’s plan, knew what was about to unfold. Willy Tybur would soon take the stage, and Eren would lure Reiner underground to confront him. That would be the moment everything began. Eren’s attack. The start of the Raid on Liberio.

Eren stood before her, his eyes dark and determined. He could see the fear in Aurora’s eyes, but he also saw her resolve. She was strong—stronger than she even realized. He hated that he had to leave her behind, hated that she had to feel even an ounce of fear. But there was no other way. He had a mission to complete, and she would be safe here.

“I’ll be back for you soon,” Eren said, his voice steady as he reached out to cup her face gently. His thumb brushed against her cheek, his touch both soft and reassuring. “Stay here. Don’t come out until you hear the bell. When it rings, I’ll be waiting for you.”

Aurora nodded, her eyes locking onto his. “I trust you, Eren,” she whispered, though her heart felt heavy with the weight of everything. She hated the thought of him out there, in danger, but she knew this was what he had to do.

Eren leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers as he closed his eyes for a moment. “I’ll make them pay,” he whispered, his voice dark with the promise of vengeance. “The Tyburs… they’ll pay for what they did to you, to your family.”

His words carried the weight of his resolve, the burning hatred he held for those who had destroyed Aurora’s life, who had taken her family from her and subjected her to years of suffering. Eren would see them fall. He would tear them apart if that’s what it took to protect her.

Aurora swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling the sting of tears she tried to hold back. “Please be careful,” she whispered, her voice shaking slightly. “I need you to come back.”

Eren’s eyes softened at her words, and he gave her a small, reassuring smile. “I will,” he promised, his voice low but full of conviction. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Without another word, he pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss. It was filled with everything he couldn’t say—the love, the fear, the desperation to protect her at all costs. Aurora kissed him back just as fiercely, her fingers clutching the fabric of his jacket as if holding onto him could keep him from leaving.

When they finally pulled apart, Eren rested his forehead against hers once more, his breath shaky as he tried to compose himself. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Aurora nodded, her heart aching with the thought of him leaving, but she trusted him. She had to. “I love you too,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible.

Eren pulled away slowly, his hand lingering on hers before he finally stepped back. “Stay safe,” he said, his eyes locked onto hers as if memorizing every detail of her face.

And then, with one last look, Eren turned and ascended the stone steps, his silhouette disappearing into the night. The sound of the door closing above echoed through the empty basement, and Aurora was left standing there, the silence heavy around her.

She sank down to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself as she tried to calm the racing of her heart. The fire of the burning cabin still lingered in her mind, a symbol of the destruction to come. She hated the thought of all the innocent lives that would be lost, but she couldn’t stop it. All she could do now was trust Eren and wait for the signal.

Above, the world was preparing for war, and Aurora could feel it in her bones. But no matter how scared she was, she knew one thing for certain: she loved Eren, and she would wait for him. Always .

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

Aurora sat huddled in the cold, damp basement of the bell tower, her knees drawn tightly to her chest and her head resting against them. The walls around her were thick stone, but she could still hear the muffled sounds from the festival above. The celebratory murmurs of the crowd blended with the voices of the actors on stage, growing louder as Willy Tybur began his speech.

His voice carried through the air, strong and authoritative, as he addressed the gathered audience. He spoke of history and truth—revealing the real cause behind the Great Titan War. Aurora could hear the conviction in his tone as he recounted how the Tybur family had conspired with King Karl Fritz to bring an end to the Eldian Empire. It was a story of betrayal and repentance, of Karl Fritz's decision to build the walls on Paradis Island and lead his people away from the rest of the world.

Aurora shivered as Willy's voice seemed to grow darker, colder, when he began to speak about her husband— about Eren . “Eren Jaeger,” Willy's voice boomed, echoing even in the depths of the basement where she hid. “The one who stole the Founding Titan… the one who poses a global threat to our world.”

Aurora’s heart clenched painfully at those words. Her husband had been named as the enemy of the world, the cause of all their fears. It was as if she could feel the weight of countless eyes narrowing in condemnation, all because of Eren. Her Eren. The boy she had once played with in the streets of Shiganshina, the man who had saved her and given her a new reason to live. Now, he was seen as nothing more than a devil to be exterminated.

The words “ global threat ” seemed to reverberate in her chest, sinking into her bones and making her feel colder than the stone walls around her. She closed her eyes tightly, pressing her hands to her ears as though it could block out the sound. But Willy’s voice was relentless, condemning Eren and calling for the world to unite against him and Paradis Island.

Aurora’s thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, deafening crash from above. Her breath hitched as the ground beneath her trembled, dust falling from the ceiling as the impact of something enormous reverberated through the tower. Her hands dropped from her ears, and her head snapped up in shock. It was followed by a low, guttural roar—so powerful it seemed to shake the air itself.

Eren.

Aurora’s heart raced as she recognized the sound of his Titan form. Her pulse thundered in her ears as the first screams erupted from the crowd above, sharp and terrified. The unmistakable sounds of chaos began to spread through the streets—people shouting, the rapid thudding of footsteps as they fled, and the crumbling of buildings in the distance. The cacophony of destruction and despair grew louder with each passing second.

She covered her mouth, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to control the rising panic that gripped her. The screams outside tore through her, each one sending a jolt of horror coursing through her veins. The sounds of breaking wood and shattering stone echoed like distant thunder, and she could almost feel the ground trembling beneath her as Eren's Titan wreaked havoc upon the city.

Aurora squeezed her eyes shut, her hands trembling as she pressed them against her ears again in a futile attempt to drown out the sounds. But it was no use—she could still hear it all. The shouts of people crying out for help, the rumble of buildings collapsing as Eren rampaged through Liberio, and the roar of his Titan voice reverberating through the air like the harbinger of death.

She was suffocating in the dark confines of the basement, the terror above wrapping around her like a noose. She knew that Eren had to do this; she understood that he believed there was no other way to protect Paradis. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier to bear. The devastation unfolding above was real—those screams were real. And for the first time, Aurora truly felt the weight of what Eren was willing to do to secure their future.

Tears welled up in her eyes as the chaos intensified. She could feel herself shaking, a desperate sense of helplessness creeping in. The lives being extinguished outside, the innocent people caught in the crossfire—it was all too much. She buried her face in her knees, her breath ragged and shallow as she struggled to maintain her composure.

Somewhere deep within, she wished she could shut it all out. She wanted to be deaf to the sounds of death and terror, to ignore the blood that was being spilled. But she couldn't. The truth was, she was part of this now. Eren was out there, unleashing destruction, and she was hiding in the dark, waiting for it to end.

And then, there was a moment of silence—an eerie stillness that seemed to stretch on for far too long, as though the world itself was holding its breath. Aurora’s hands slipped from her ears, and she lifted her head, blinking away the tears that blurred her vision. She could hear footsteps overhead, followed by muffled voices—no longer the distant shouts of the terrified, but something different.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus. Eren had promised he would come for her, that he would ring the bell. She had to stay hidden until then. She had to be strong. For him. For the man she loved, even if that meant facing the reality of what his love demanded.

As she sat there, waiting in the darkness, Aurora knew that the flames that had consumed their cabin were just a prelude to the inferno that Eren would unleash upon this city. She felt the ache in her heart, the deep conflict between her love for him and the horror of what was happening above. But she clung to her trust in Eren, telling herself that this was all for a reason, that it was necessary for their future.

She just had to hold on a little longer. Eren would come for her soon.

And as the ground trembled again with the distant rumble of Eren's wrath, Aurora hugged her knees to her chest, praying that the storm would soon pass, and that they would emerge from the ashes together.

…

Aurora's breath came in shallow gasps as she stumbled out of the basement and into the open air. The world around her was ablaze with chaos. Smoke billowed up from burning buildings, choking the sky in thick, black plumes. The acrid smell of fire and blood filled her lungs, and the sounds of anguish and terror echoed from every direction. People were running, their faces twisted with fear and desperation, their cries for help lost in the maelstrom of destruction.

Aurora clutched her bag tightly against her side, her knuckles turning white as she struggled to keep herself composed. The sight of bodies scattered on the ground, crushed under debris or limp in the streets, threatened to overwhelm her. She fought back the urge to vomit, forcing herself to breathe, to keep moving. 

She had to do something.

 She couldn’t just sit in that basement and wait while the world fell apart around her. Not when she heard the sounds of children dying and screaming for their lives.

Her eyes darted upward, catching sight of figures in black, moving swiftly through the air on cables, zipping between the burning buildings. Aurora’s heart skipped a beat. She recognized the uniforms—they had to be the scouts. Eren’s comrades. But there was no time to think about what that meant for her; her attention was quickly drawn to a scene unfolding just ahead.

To her left, towering above the chaos, was a monstrous sight that stole the breath from her lungs. Eren’s Titan form was impaled by a massive spire of hardened white flesh, jutting upward like a jagged spear, leaving his body hanging limply in the air. The War Hammer Titan stood before him, its pale, sinewy form wielding an enormous hammer. Aurora recognized that weapon. She had seen it before, in the hands of her father during the last moments of his life. The memory surged to the forefront of her mind—her father’s Titan form as he battled the Tybur family, the sight of the hammer that had ultimately led to his defeat.

Her legs felt weak beneath her as she watched Eren’s Titan struggle against the spire. He was trapped, helpless as the War Hammer Titan advanced. Aurora’s heart pounded in her chest. She had to do something, anything—but what could she do against a Titan? Panic clawed at her insides as she saw Eren emerge from the nape of his Titan’s neck, scrambling to escape the imminent attack.

Just then, one of the scouts—moving too fast for Aurora to make out any details—shot through the air, flying on cables and landing near Eren. She wore a black uniform, and without a moment’s hesitation, she launched what looked like cylindrical projectiles directly at the War Hammer Titan. The projectiles detonated with a violent explosion, piercing the Titan’s flesh and sending shards of bone-like armor flying in all directions.

Aurora’s eyes widened in shock. What kind of weapon was that? She had never seen anything like it. The War Hammer Titan staggered back, its grip on the hammer faltering as the explosions tore through its armored body.

The scout who attacked landed gracefully on a nearby rooftop and said something to Eren, her voice lost to the roar of flames and the cries of the people. There was a familiarity in the way she moved, a precision that suggested years of experience. Whoever she was, she was clearly trying to protect Eren, to buy him time to recover.

But Eren didn’t seem to hesitate for long. With a furious determination that burned in his eyes even from this distance, he launched himself at the War Hammer Titan once again, summoning his Titan body around him in an instant. The sheer force of his transformation shattered the spire that had impaled him, sending fragments of hardened flesh raining down onto the street below.

Aurora’s heart leaped into her throat as she took in the scene. The War Hammer Titan braced itself, preparing to swing the hammer down on Eren's newly formed Titan. The ground shook with the impact as Eren charged forward, meeting the War Hammer’s strike head-on.

She watched in awe, her fear momentarily forgotten, as the two Titans clashed. Eren’s sheer force and relentless aggression contrasted sharply with the War Hammer’s cold, calculated movements. The massive hammer swung in powerful arcs, each blow sending tremors through the earth, but Eren moved with a ferocity that seemed almost inhuman. He wasn’t just fighting for survival; he was fighting for revenge.

Aurora forced herself to tear her gaze away from the battle. She had come out here to help, not to stand frozen in fear. Her eyes swept the streets, searching for anyone she could aid. There—just a few meters away, a young boy lay on the ground, clutching his leg, which was pinned beneath a fallen piece of debris. He couldn’t have been older than eight or nine, his cries of pain drowned out by the chaos around him.

Without thinking, Aurora ran to his side, dropping to her knees. “Hold on,” she said, her voice barely audible over the noise. “I’m going to get you out.” She struggled to lift the piece of debris, her arms trembling under the weight. It was heavier than it looked, but she didn’t give up, gritting her teeth as she pushed with all her strength.

Finally, with a desperate heave, she managed to move the debris just enough to free the boy’s leg. His eyes were wide with terror and pain as she pulled him out. She quickly reached into her bag, pulling out a vial and pouring a calming elixir onto a cloth before pressing it to his forehead. “It’ll be okay,” she murmured, though she wasn’t entirely sure if she was reassuring him or herself.

As she worked to bandage the boy's leg with strips torn from her dress, the sounds of the Titans’ battle continued to rage behind her, the ground quaking with every clash. She could hear Eren’s Titan roar in fury, followed by the sickening crack of the War Hammer’s strikes.

For a brief moment, Aurora’s eyes flicked back toward the battlefield. She saw Eren's Titan locked in a desperate struggle, its jaw clenched as it fought to overpower the War Hammer Titan. But there was still so much chaos, so much bloodshed. This was just the beginning of the carnage, and the festival had turned into a nightmare that no one would soon forget.

Aurora returned her focus to the boy, trying to stay calm as she worked. But inside, she could feel herself unraveling. She had come out here hoping to make a difference, to alleviate some of the guilt that was consuming her. But as she looked around at the devastation, she wondered if there was anything she could truly do to stop the suffering.

Still, she had to keep trying. For Eren. For the people who were suffering. For herself.

But she could see the boy’s condition was deteriorating quickly. She had to do something, and fast.

Aurora’s breaths came in short, ragged gasps as she ran through the ruined streets, the boy clutched tightly in her arms. The sounds of battle echoed all around her—crashing debris, the deafening roars of Titans, and the screeching of ODM gear cables slicing through the air. Above, she could see the shapes of more Titans joining the fight. The Cart Titan skidded into view, mounted with soldiers and heavy artillery. The Beast Titan towered over the battlefield, launching projectiles with terrifying precision. The Jaw Titan leaped from rooftop to rooftop, its teeth glinting like a predator’s.

The scouts from Paradis were everywhere, launching an all-out assault with their ODM gear, firing Thunder Spears and weaving between the Titans with impossible agility. Buildings crumbled, their once-solid structures collapsing into rubble as the fight raged on. The air was filled with smoke and dust, stinging her eyes and clogging her throat. It felt like the whole world was falling apart.

Aurora pushed forward, her legs burning as she sprinted toward a nearby shelter. She knew she wasn’t supposed to be out here. It wasn’t safe. Eren had told her to stay hidden, but she couldn’t just sit in that basement and listen to people dying. She had to do something. Even if it was a small comfort to her conscience, she had to try to help—if only to ease the guilt gnawing away at her.

She reached the shelter, only to find the entrance packed with people. The small space inside was filled to capacity, and frantic cries echoed from within as the terrified crowd begged for help. Aurora’s heart sank, but she couldn’t give up now. She searched for an empty spot on the ground and laid the boy down as gently as she could, setting him against the wall.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, though her voice trembled as she spoke. She pulled out another vial from her bag, applying a salve to the boy’s wounds and wrapping them with makeshift bandages. His breathing was ragged, but he was conscious, his wide eyes filled with pain and fear. At least she had stabilized him. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

As Aurora finished her work, she became aware of other people surrounding her—bodies pressing closer, faces pleading for help. “Please!” a woman cried, clutching a bleeding wound on her shoulder. “You have to help us!”

Another man stumbled forward, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle. “Do you have anything for the pain?” he begged, his voice breaking.

Aurora’s chest tightened as she glanced around at the desperate faces around her. The shelter was overflowing with the injured and the terrified. She wasn’t a doctor; she was an herbalist, a woman who had studied plants and learned how to make simple remedies. This was beyond her skills, and yet she couldn’t turn them away. She had chosen to leave the safety of the basement, and now she was here, caught in the midst of the carnage.

She knelt beside the wounded woman, her hands shaking as she fumbled with her bag, pulling out whatever supplies she had. “I’ll do what I can,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. She mixed a small amount of her herbal elixirs, hoping they would offer some relief, even if it was only temporary.

But as she worked, guilt continued to weigh on her heart, heavier than ever. These people had no idea that she knew this was coming—that she had chosen to stay silent and stand by Eren’s side, even knowing the destruction he would bring. The screams of children, the cries of the injured—this was the cost of her love, the cost of her decision to support Eren no matter what.

She hated herself for the relief she felt when she saw Eren in his Titan form, still fighting with unyielding fury. She hated that she was glad he was alive, that she found comfort in his rage and violence. What kind of person did that make her? She was a hypocrite—claiming to value life while standing beside the man who was bringing so much death.

But she didn’t regret choosing Eren . She loved him with all her heart, and she would choose him again, even if it meant living with this guilt for the rest of her life. That didn’t make it any easier to face the suffering that surrounded her now, the suffering she was powerless to truly stop.

Aurora pressed her lips together as she applied another makeshift bandage to the injured woman, her hands still trembling. She wished she could be stronger, could do more, could be someone who wasn’t torn apart by the contradictions of her own choices. But all she could do now was help these people in whatever small way she could. It wouldn’t bring back the dead, but maybe it would give someone a chance to live.

And with each person she helped, a piece of her heart seemed to break a little more.

Her hands moved automatically as she worked, her mind a storm of emotions that she struggled to push aside. She had already helped bandage several wounds, given out the last of her herbal tinctures, and offered what comfort she could. But it never felt like enough; no matter how many lives she tried to mend, the chaos outside was far greater than anything she could fix.

As she turned to the next person in need, she froze. Lying on the ground before her was the elderly clergyman who had married her and Eren just weeks ago. His white hair was matted with sweat and dirt, and a nasty gash ran across his forehead, bleeding into his eyes. He looked up at her, and recognition flashed across his face.

"Mrs. Kruger?" he said weakly, his voice trembling with a mix of pain and relief. "Is that you? I didn’t… I didn’t expect to see you here."

Aurora’s breath caught in her throat as she knelt beside him. She quickly wiped away the blood on his forehead with a damp cloth, her hands steadying as she worked to clean the wound. “Yes, it's me,” she whispered, forcing a small, reassuring smile. “Stay still, I’m going to help you.”

The clergyman gave a faint nod, his expression softening as he recognized her gentle touch. “Thank you, Mrs. Kruger,” he murmured. “You and your husband… you were such a beautiful couple. I’m glad to see you’re safe.”

Aurora’s heart sank at the mention of Eren—Mr. Kruger, as the clergyman knew him. She hadn’t expected to be recognized here, especially not by someone who had been present for such a private moment in their lives. Her mind raced for the right words to say, but before she could think of anything, the clergyman spoke again.

“Where is your husband?” he asked, his voice strained with concern. “Is he alright? Is Mr. Kruger safe?”

The question pierced Aurora like a knife. Her hands stilled for a moment, and she swallowed hard. The image of Eren, locked in combat with the War Hammer Titan, flashed through her mind. She had seen him dangling from that spire, struggling against the white Titan's relentless assault. She could still hear the roars of Titans and the explosions of battle echoing in the distance, reminding her of the ongoing chaos.

“Yes,” she said softly, her voice catching in her throat. “He’s… he’s fighting. He’s out there, doing what he needs to do.” Her heart clenched painfully as she spoke, each word laden with unspoken fear. She didn’t know what was happening to him right now—whether he was winning or losing, whether he was hurt or still fighting with that unyielding spirit. All she could do was hope .

The clergyman’s brow furrowed as she finished bandaging his wound. “Fighting?” he echoed, confusion flickering in his eyes. “Is he a soldier, Mrs. Kruger?”

Aurora hesitated, her gaze dropping to the bloodstained cloth in her hands. She didn’t know what to say. The man in front of her was kind, and she didn’t want to lie to him, but she couldn’t tell him the full truth either. He knew her only as Mrs. Kruger, the woman who had married a simple man named Eren. He had no idea that her husband was actually Eren Jaeger, the man whose name Willy Tybur had just condemned as a threat to the world.

“Yes,” she replied quietly, her voice barely audible above the distant sounds of destruction. “He’s… he’s doing what he believes is right.”

The clergyman’s eyes softened, and he reached out to gently squeeze Aurora’s hand. “May God watch over him,” he whispered. “And may He protect you both.”

Aurora’s throat tightened, and she had to blink back the sudden rush of tears that stung her eyes. She nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “Thank you,” she said, her words trembling with emotion. “Please, rest now. I’ll come back to check on you.”

As she stood to move on to the next person in need, Aurora’s mind was heavy with thoughts of Eren. She had always known that the moment of reckoning would come, but hearing Willy Tybur declare him a global threat, watching the devastation unfold, and now speaking with the man who had married them—it all made the reality of their situation feel even sharper, even more painfully real.

She was no longer just a woman in love. She was the wife of a man who was bringing death and destruction to this city, to these people. And even though she had chosen him, there were moments like this that made her question if she was truly ready to accept all the consequences of that choice.

But as she continued to help the injured, as she tended to wounds and offered whatever comfort she could, Aurora realized that her guilt and love were not mutually exclusive. She could love Eren and still mourn the lives that were lost. She could stand by him and still struggle with the cost of their choices.

And as she worked, she held on to the hope that he would come back to her. Because no matter what happened next, she needed to see him again—to hold him, to tell him that even if the whole world was against him, she would still choose him .

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

Eren’s Titan let out a deep, guttural roar that echoed across the battlefield as he launched himself at the War Hammer Titan’s crystal-encased form, his muscles straining with the sheer force of his movements. This was his third transformation, and he could feel the strain on his body—something he had become intimately familiar with after countless transformations in battle. But thanks to Aurora’s elixirs, coursing through his veins like liquid fire, he felt as though he could keep fighting for hours if necessary. He had never felt stronger.

His massive hand gripped the crystal that contained Lara Tybur, the War Hammer Titan’s true holder, lifting her into the air. Her body was encased in the hardened white shell, impervious to the damage he had tried to inflict earlier. The War Hammer Titan had been unlike any foe he had ever faced—its power to create weapons from the very earth around it had taken him by surprise, but he had managed to endure its attacks long enough to seize her. And now, victory was within his grasp.

Around him, the battlefield was a maelstrom of chaos and violence. The scouts moved like shadows, darting through the air with their ODM gear, their blades slicing through flesh and metal alike. Armin had just unleashed the full destructive power of the Colossal Titan at the port, and the resulting explosion had annihilated the Marleyan fleet and thrown their forces into complete disarray. Smoke and flames rose high into the sky, casting a hellish glow over the city. The screams of soldiers and civilians alike mingled with the rumble of collapsing structures, creating a cacophony of destruction.

High on Eren's shoulder, Mikasa clung to his Titan’s hair, waiting for his next move. Her dark eyes were locked onto the crystal, her expression as focused and fierce as ever. She had come to his aid as planned, providing support when the War Hammer Titan had nearly overwhelmed him. But even now, with the battle raging around them, Eren could feel her uncertainty. He knew she didn’t fully understand his actions—didn’t understand why he had gone so far. But that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was finishing this fight and taking the War Hammer Titan’s power.

Eren’s eyes narrowed as he tightened his grip on the crystal. He had devoured Willy Tybur as expected, but he had not been the War Hammer’s true holder. Eren had anticipated that, but Willy had needed to die regardless. The Tybur family was responsible for the suffering that Aurora had endured—the destruction of her family, the years of pain and slavery she had endured at their hands. Eren had vowed to make them pay, and he would fulfill that promise with blood.

But as he prepared to crush the crystal with his Titan’s massive hand, a shadow moved in his peripheral vision. The Jaw Titan leaped through the air, its powerful jaws snapping, its razor-sharp claws aimed directly at him. Eren’s instincts took over, and he turned to intercept the attack, but not before one of the Jaw Titan's claws grazed the crystal, scratching its surface.

Eren’s eyes widened in realization. He felt a surge of exhilaration as the pieces fell into place. The Jaw Titan’s claws had left a mark on the crystal—a scratch, faint but clear. It had the power to break through the hardened shell.

Without hesitation, Eren grabbed the Jaw Titan by its head, using his immense strength to force its body into position. He brought the crystal containing Lara Tybur closer, pressing it against the Jaw Titan’s powerful maw. He could feel the Titan thrashing in his grip, trying desperately to break free, but Eren’s ironclad determination gave him an almost unnatural strength. He wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip away.

From his shoulder, Mikasa’s eyes widened as she realized what Eren was about to do, her grip on her blades tightening. The battlefield around them continued to rage, but for Eren, the world seemed to narrow down to this singular moment—this chance to claim the War Hammer Titan’s power.

With the Jaw Titan's teeth poised against the crystal, Eren prepared to force its jaws shut. His entire Titan form trembled with the effort, and his thoughts briefly drifted to Aurora. He hoped she was still safe, hiding as he had instructed. He hated leaving her alone, knowing she was likely terrified and struggling with the weight of her guilt. But if he could end this quickly, if he could finish the fight and secure the power he needed, then he could go back to her. He could take her away from this city of death and destruction, and they could finally be free—together in Paradis.

But first, he would make the Tyburs suffer. He would make them pay for what they had done to Aurora. And he would do it with the very power they had stolen back from her father so many years ago.

With a surge of strength, Eren tightened his grip on the Jaw Titan, forcing its powerful jaws ever closer to the crystal that encased Lara Tybur. His Titan's muscles bulged and strained, the savage determination in his gaze unyielding as he prepared to shatter the War Hammer Titan’s last line of defense. Everything around him—the flames, the destruction, the screams—faded into the background, his entire focus consumed by this moment. It was all leading up to this.

But then, something in his peripheral vision caught his attention.

His heart skipped a beat as he saw her— Aurora . She was standing amidst the chaos, her eyes wide and filled with a mixture of horror and disbelief as she took in the scene before her. Eren’s Titan froze for a fraction of a second, shock coursing through him. What was she doing out here? Why wasn't she still hiding in the bell tower where he had told her to stay?

Before he could fully process the situation, his grip instinctively tightened, and the Jaw Titan’s teeth clamped down on the crystal. There was a sickening crack as the hardened shell fractured under the immense pressure, followed by a splintering shatter that echoed across the battlefield. Blood and spinal fluid poured from the ruptured crystal, sliding down his Titan’s throat as he absorbed the War Hammer Titan's power.

In that heartbeat of a moment, it was as if time itself stopped. Eren’s mind was suddenly flooded with memories—visions from the past inheritors of the War Hammer Titan flashed before his eyes, overwhelming in their intensity. He could see Lara Tybur’s life and the lives of those who had come before her. And then, like a knife piercing through the haze, there was a memory that hit him harder than all the others.

Aurora’s father .

The realization hit Eren like a tidal wave, but before he could grasp its full significance, he was engulfed by memories.

…

Clive’s memories unfolded like a story etched in shadows, scenes replaying through the haze of time. He had always been a man of ambition and brilliance, a titan researcher whose intellect and drive set him apart from others. Despite being an Eldian, the Marleyan military saw his value and kept him close, utilizing his groundbreaking research on Titans to fuel their military ambitions. Clive’s work had helped Marley understand the mysteries of the Titans better than any scientist before him, and he took pride in the knowledge he had uncovered, even if it was always tempered by the reality of his own status.

But everything changed when Clive was summoned to serve the Tybur family. As the most powerful family in Marley, their influence extended far beyond the reach of ordinary men, and their secrets were as deep as the ocean itself. Clive had always been curious about the Tyburs—Eldians who despised their own kind yet wielded the power of the Titans, specifically the War Hammer Titan. The paradox intrigued him, and his insatiable thirst for knowledge compelled him to accept the opportunity to work under them. He was eager to learn more about the elusive War Hammer Titan, whose power was unlike anything he had studied before.

However, when he arrived at the Tybur estate, he was given a task that left him puzzled. His assignment was not to study the War Hammer Titan itself but to examine the blood of a young woman named Nadia. She was beautiful, with long platinum blonde hair and eyes as blue as the sky—a striking contrast to the cold stone halls of the Tybur mansion. She was also an Eldian, but it wasn’t her appearance that caught Clive’s attention; it was the way the Tyburs treated her .

Nadia was little more than a prisoner in their grand estate. The Tyburs' treatment of her was cruel and heartless—barely acknowledging her presence, treating her as little more than a tool for some unknown purpose. Clive could see the bruises that marred her skin and the way she flinched at the sound of their voices. It unsettled him, though he tried to focus on the task at hand. He was an Eldian himself, and defying the Tyburs would only lead him to a fate worse than death— shipped off to Paradise .

So, he kept his head down and did what was asked of him. For months, he studied Nadia’s blood, trying to uncover whatever it was the Tyburs believed lay within her. But no matter how many tests he ran or how many sleepless nights he spent in his laboratory, he couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. She was a healthy young woman with no obvious abnormalities. Yet, the Tyburs were insistent, always pushing him to continue, as if expecting him to unlock some hidden secret.

As time passed, Clive found himself spending more and more time with Nadia. She would sit quietly, allowing him to take his samples and run his tests, never uttering a word unless spoken to. But gradually, she began to speak to him, her voice soft and uncertain at first, like someone rediscovering a language long forgotten. Clive listened, and before he realized it, he began to look forward to their conversations. They would speak about trivial things at first—the weather, books she had read long ago, the flowers in the garden that she was not allowed to tend. But there was something about her spirit that drew him in, a quiet strength that persisted despite everything.

It wasn’t long before Clive began to feel a change within himself, something he hadn’t anticipated. As he watched her endure the Tyburs' cruelty day after day, he found his own resentment toward the family growing, a resentment that clashed with the duty that had been drilled into him. But more than that, he found himself caring for Nadia in a way that went beyond mere sympathy. He admired her courage, her resilience, and the kindness that she showed him despite her own suffering.

Clive didn’t know when exactly it happened, but somewhere along the way, he fell in love with Nadia.

His feelings for Nadia grew with each passing day as he continued to study her blood, and his resentment toward the Tybur family festered like a wound. Every time he saw her bruised and battered, something inside him twisted with anger. Nadia was the most kind-hearted person he had ever met; she didn’t deserve to be treated like this—like she was nothing more than an object for them to exploit.

One evening, as Clive prepared to take another blood sample, he noticed Nadia wincing in pain as she rolled up her sleeve. His gaze fell on the fresh bruises that marred her pale skin, dark and ugly against the delicate flesh. It was the final straw. He could no longer keep quiet.

"Who did this to you?" Clive demanded, his voice low and barely controlled.

Nadia hesitated, her eyes flickering with a mix of fear and sadness. "It doesn’t matter," she whispered, her voice trembling. "They’re all the same."

But Clive wasn’t satisfied with that answer. He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a gentle murmur. "You don’t deserve this, Nadia. You’re worth so much more than what they see in you. Why won’t you let me help you?"

For the first time, Nadia’s guarded expression cracked, and her shoulders slumped in defeat. "There is no help for me," she said quietly. "This is all I’ve ever known."

And then, she began to open up. Piece by piece, she told him the story of her past—a story she had kept buried for so long that it seemed almost like a distant dream. She had been an orphan for as long as she could remember, never knowing her parents. It had always been just her and her elder cousin. They were close, and her cousin had taken care of her as though she were her own sister. But then, one fateful day, their home had been raided by the Tyburs. Her cousin had managed to escape, leaving Nadia behind. That was the last time she saw her; her memory of that day was burned into her mind—the screams, the chaos, and then, nothing but darkness.

Clive’s heart ached as he listened to her speak. The more he learned about Nadia, the deeper his feelings grew. She was strong in ways that most people would never understand, and yet the Tyburs treated her like she was nothing. It wasn’t right.

And then, one day, everything changed.

Clive was in his lab, studying the blood of a Pure Titan, a routine test he had done dozens of times before. But this time, he decided to mix it with a sample of Nadia’s blood. He watched, almost out of idle curiosity, as the two substances met under the microscope. But then he noticed something he hadn’t expected—a strange reaction, like the Titan’s blood was responding to Nadia’s.

His heart skipped a beat. It was a bizarre phenomenon, unlike anything he had observed before. He repeated the test, and the result was the same—Nadia’s blood seemed to evoke some kind of reaction in the Titan’s cells. It was as though they recognized something in her that set them apart.

Clive’s hands trembled as he quickly pulled out old research notes, digging through years of data until he found what he was looking for. He compared the reactions, cross-referenced his findings, and checked the old records. As he did, his mind raced with a single, chilling realization.

Nadia had royal blood .

It was a revelation that hit him like a punch to the gut. The reason the Tyburs had taken such a keen interest in her, the reason they kept her hidden and treated her as both a secret and a prisoner, was because of the power that flowed in her veins. It all made sense now—why they had been so obsessed with her blood, why they kept her under lock and key. They were afraid of the potential that lay dormant within her.

And in that moment, Clive’s feelings of love and rage crystallized into resolve. He couldn’t let Nadia continue to be their captive. Not now that he knew the truth. If they discovered that he had uncovered this secret, his own life would be forfeit, but he didn’t care. He would do whatever it took to protect her.

….

The memories faded, and Eren’s consciousness snapped back to the present, the power of the War Hammer Titan surging through him. He could feel the raw strength of his new ability coursing through his veins, his senses heightened as the battlefield roared around him.

His Titan's gaze snapped to Aurora, standing amid the chaos, her eyes wide with shock and horror. It all made sense now—the pieces falling into place as if a puzzle had just been completed. The Tyburs had kept her as a secret, as a slave, because of what flowed through her veins. Aurora’s mother had royal blood, which meant Aurora did too .

And that meant her potential was far greater than anyone had ever realized.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

Present Day

The airship touched down on the soil of Paradis with a heavy thud, and the tension on board was thick enough to cut with a knife. The Scouts remained silent as they disembarked, their minds still reeling from everything that had happened in Liberio—everything Eren had done. And yet, it was not just the destruction he wrought that weighed on their hearts.

It was the woman at his side. Aurora .

The scouts stood clustered, whispering among themselves, their eyes flickering between Eren and the delicate woman clinging to his arm. Mikasa was off to the side, her heart fractured, though she hid it behind a mask of stoicism. But those who knew her well—Armin, Jean, Sasha—could see the pain written in her dark eyes. She kept glancing at Aurora, then at Eren, as though searching for an explanation, for some sliver of hope that this wasn’t real.

But it was. Eren had a wife. A wife he held protectively in his arms, a wife he had risked everything for.

As the ramp lowered, several Military Police officers approached the group, their uniforms crisp and stern, expressions hard. One of them stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he addressed Eren.

“Eren Jaeger, you are under arrest,” the officer announced coldly. “For acting on your own, endangering the lives of your comrades, and forcing the Scouts into a mission without authorization.”

Aurora’s grip on Eren’s arm tightened in fear. “E-Eren…” she whispered, her voice trembling, her blue eyes wide with worry.

Eren’s face remained calm, stoic. He had expected this. He knew the Military Police would arrest him the moment they returned. But none of it mattered. Not the accusations, not the handcuffs, not the glares from the officers. The only thing that mattered was Aurora.

He turned to her, his intense green eyes locking onto hers. “Don’t be scared,” Eren whispered, his voice low but steady, meant only for her. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?”

Aurora nodded slowly, though her fear was evident. She knew Eren had done terrible things, things she wasn’t proud of, but she trusted him with every fiber of her being. He was the only one who had ever cared for her, protected her.

Two Military Police officers stepped forward, grabbing Eren by the arms. As they began to cuff his wrists, Eren leaned toward the officer in charge and spoke with unwavering authority. “I need to see Queen Historia. Now.”

The officer scoffed. “You’re in no position to make demands, Jaeger.”

Eren’s eyes darkened, a dangerous glint flickering in them. “Tell Historia that Eren Jaeger is back,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “She’ll want to see me.”

The officer hesitated, clearly torn between protocol and the fear that Eren’s words stirred in him. Everyone knew the power Eren now wielded—power that made him both a savior and a threat.

Aurora’s heart raced as the officers began to drag Eren away, panic bubbling inside her. She hated the thought of being separated from him. What would happen to him now? What would happen to her?

Sensing her distress, Eren glanced over his shoulder, his green eyes softening for the briefest moment. “It’s going to be okay,” he reassured her. “Just stay with them.” His gaze flicked toward Armin, who stood nearby, hesitant but ready to help.

Armin caught the look and gave a small, determined nod. “Don’t worry, Aurora,” he said gently. “We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

The officers pulled Eren toward the edge of the landing zone, but his mind wasn’t on his arrest. His thoughts were already racing ahead, focused on Historia and what needed to be done to protect Aurora. Learning that she had royal blood had changed everything, but Eren knew better than to tell anyone—not even Aurora. Not yet .

If the Military Police or the government discovered that Aurora was of royal lineage, they would try to use her just as they had planned to use Historia. They would turn her into a pawn, a tool for their schemes, and Eren refused to let that happen. He wouldn’t let anyone touch her. He had seen what they did to those with royal blood, and he wouldn’t let Aurora become another casualty in their games.

That was why he needed Historia. He had told her everything before he left for Marley—the truth about the Rumbling, the plan to destroy the world outside Paradis, and the grim necessity of his actions. Historia was the only one who had truly understood. She had promised to support him before he left for Marley with the scouts.

If there was anyone who could help protect Aurora, it was her.

Aurora’s heart pounded as she stood frozen in place, watching helplessly as the soldiers led Eren away. The cold iron cuffs clinking against his wrists felt like chains around her own heart. Every step Eren took away from her left a growing void in her chest, her worst fears clawing at the edges of her mind. She knew Eren told her to trust him, but the sight of him being taken away made her feel so small and powerless.

She gripped the straps of her bag tightly to steady her trembling hands. It’s only for a little while… just a little while, she told herself, trying to believe it. Eren had promised he’d come back for her. He always kept his promises. She just had to hold on.

Before Eren was completely out of sight, he turned his head and gave her one last reassuring glance—one that said I’ll be back. His green eyes held a flicker of warmth amidst the storm brewing in him, and Aurora clung to that look like a lifeline.

Floch stood nearby, his eyes cool and observant. He gave her a small nod, one that communicated that he understood his orders. Eren had told Floch to watch over Aurora in his absence, and though Floch wasn’t the warmest of people, Aurora trusted him to carry out Eren’s instructions.

Hange, always trying to maintain a semblance of optimism, approached Aurora with a gentle smile. "Hey, Aurora, right?" she said, her voice soft but still carrying an undertone of curiosity. "Don’t worry, we’ll get all this sorted out. Eren... well, Eren tends to do things his own way, but we’ll make sure everything’s okay."

Aurora nodded, though she couldn’t bring herself to speak yet. The lump in her throat made it hard to breathe, let alone talk.

Armin, standing a step behind Hange, offered Aurora a sympathetic smile. "I know this must be overwhelming," he said gently. "But you’re not alone. We’ll figure this out together."

Aurora appreciated their kindness, but the weight of the situation still pressed heavily on her. She gave a small, shaky nod, not trusting herself to say anything that wouldn’t reveal how scared she truly was.

Jean stood a little ways off, his arms crossed, a skeptical frown etched across his face. "I still don’t get it," he muttered, mostly to himself but loud enough for the others to hear. "What the hell were you two even doing for seven months? Eren runs off, disappears without a trace, and now he suddenly has a wife? And we’re just supposed to be okay with that?"

Connie and Sasha stood nearby, quietly observing. Connie gave a sidelong glance to Sasha, who whispered, “She doesn’t look like a spy or anything…”

“Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving,” Connie muttered back.

Aurora tried not to meet their stares, shifting uneasily under their scrutiny. She knew the scouts didn’t trust her—and she couldn’t blame them. She was an outsider in their eyes, someone who had been with Eren during a time when they had no idea what he was planning. Of course, they would have questions. They had every right to.

But the one whose gaze weighed on her the most was Levi.

Levi stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, his cold, calculating eyes locked onto her. He wasn’t like Hange or Armin—there was no sympathy in his expression, no warmth in his posture. His gaze was sharp, cutting straight through her, as if he could see every secret she was hiding.

He stepped forward, and the subtle shift in his body language made it clear that this was not going to be a casual conversation. "You," Levi said bluntly, his tone low and direct. "We need to talk. Now."

Aurora’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face as neutral as possible, hiding the panic rising inside her. She knew this was coming. Levi wasn’t the type to let things slide, especially not when it came to someone like Eren.

Levi led Aurora to a quieter corner of the airship’s landing area, away from the others but still within sight. His sharp gaze pinned her down, making it clear that there was no room for lies—or so he thought.

"What were you and Eren doing for seven months?" Levi asked, his voice calm but with an edge that told her he wouldn’t tolerate any evasive answers. "And what exactly do you know about his plans?"

Aurora took a slow breath, steadying herself. She knew she couldn’t tell Levi the truth—not about the Rumbling, not about Eren’s ultimate plan. If the military knew, they would use that knowledge against Eren and, she refused to let that happen. She had to tread carefully, mixing truth with just enough lies to make her story believable.

"We... we were hiding," Aurora began, her voice quiet but steady. "Eren didn’t tell me everything, I swear. He just said that he had to disappear, that it was the only way to protect Paradis. We stayed in a cabin, far from the cities, so no one would find us."

Levi’s expression didn’t change, but Aurora could tell he was analyzing every word, every pause.

"And what about his plans?" Levi pressed. "What does he intend to do next?"

Aurora hesitated, just for a moment, enough to make it seem like she was struggling with the question. "He said... he said he needed to get the War Hammer Titan," she continued carefully. "He told me that if he could take its power, Paradis would have a fighting chance. That’s all I know, I swear."

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Eren had told her that the War Hammer Titan was part of his plan. But she deliberately left out the most crucial part—the Rumbling.

Levi’s eyes narrowed slightly, sensing that there were pieces missing from her story, but nothing about her words raised immediate alarm.

"And you expect us to believe that’s all he told you?" Levi asked, his voice dangerously low.

Aurora met his gaze head-on, forcing herself to appear calm and sincere. "I’m telling you the truth," she said softly. "Eren didn’t tell me everything. He said it was safer that way—for both of us."

Levi studied her in silence for a long moment, the weight of his gaze pressing down on her like a vice. Aurora held her breath, waiting to see if he would push further.

Finally, Levi gave a slight nod, though his expression remained unreadable. "We’ll see," he said simply. "For now, stay close to the others. We’re not done here."

Aurora exhaled softly as Levi turned and walked away, the tension in her chest easing just slightly. She had made it through the interrogation—for now. But she knew Levi wasn’t the type to let things go. He would keep watching her, waiting for her to slip up.

She just had to hold on until Eren came back. But she felt another heavy gaze on her that sent a chill down her spine.

Aurora could feel the weight of Mikasa’s gaze even before she turned her head. It was a familiar feeling—heavy, suffocating, like a storm waiting to break. When she looked up, she saw Mikasa standing a few paces away, her expression unreadable at first. But in those stormy grey eyes, Aurora saw something deeper—a devastation so raw it made her heart ache.

Mikasa’s hands were clenched into fists at her sides, and the tension in her body was palpable, like she was holding herself together through sheer force of will. She looked at Aurora as though she were staring into the source of her deepest heartbreak, her silent question hanging in the air between them.

The others—Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Floch, Hange, and Levi—stood nearby, their attention focused on the two women. Mikasa's pain was obvious to them, and though they didn’t intervene, they watched with quiet intensity, waiting to see how the conversation would unfold.

Mikasa took a step forward, her voice low and trembling with a mixture of anger and heartbreak. “How?” she asked, her tone barely above a whisper. “How did you... meet him? How did you... how did you capture his heart?”

Aurora swallowed hard, feeling the sting of guilt in her chest. She hadn’t asked to take Eren’s heart. It had happened naturally, through shared pain, love, and survival. But how could she explain that to Mikasa? How could she convey something so complex and delicate in a way that wouldn’t cause more pain?

“I…” Aurora’s voice faltered, and she glanced down at her hands. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her, expectant and waiting. She knew the scouts had questions—they had every right to. But this wasn’t just curiosity for Mikasa. This was personal.

Taking a breath, Aurora looked back up at Mikasa, her ice blue eyes filled with empathy. “Eren and I…” she began slowly, choosing her words carefully. “We knew each other... from a long time ago. Before the fall of Wall Maria. We were neighbors in Shiganshina.”

Mikasa’s eyes widened slightly, her breath catching in her throat. The others exchanged looks of surprise—none of them had expected this. Armin, who had known Eren since childhood, furrowed his brow in confusion.

“You knew him… back then?” Armin asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

Aurora nodded slowly, her gaze flickering between Armin and Mikasa. “Yes. Our mothers were friends. Eren was... my first friend.” She smiled softly at the memory, though it was tinged with sadness. “We used to play together every day.”

Connie let out a low whistle, folding his arms over his chest. “You mean to tell us Eren has known you all this time, and he never mentioned it once?”

Aurora shook her head. “I think... it was too painful for him. After my family disappeared, we didn’t see each other for years. He thought I was gone forever.”

“Disappeared?” Jean repeated, his brows knitting in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Aurora’s expression darkened as memories of her abduction flooded her mind. “The Tybur family found us,” she whispered. “They... took me and my mother. My father…” Her voice trailed off, thick with emotion. She couldn’t bring herself to speak the rest.

Armin’s eyes widened with understanding, and a heavy silence fell over the group. They all knew the horrors Marley had inflicted on their kind, but hearing it from Aurora—someone who had lived through it—made it all the more real.

Mikasa stood frozen, her lips pressed tightly together, as if struggling to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She looked like she had been punched in the gut, the weight of the revelation sinking in slowly.

“You were his first friend…” Mikasa whispered, more to herself than anyone else. She looked down, her fists clenching tighter. “All this time... and he never told me.”

The pain in her voice was sharp and cutting, and it pierced Aurora’s heart. She could see the heartbreak written all over Mikasa’s face—the realization that Eren had shared a part of himself with Aurora that he had never shared with her.

Mikasa looked up again, her expression filled with desperation. “Why?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Why didn’t he tell us? Why didn’t he tell me?”

Aurora hesitated, feeling the weight of Mikasa’s sorrow pressing down on her. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “Maybe... it was too painful for him to talk about.”

Jean crossed his arms, his brow furrowed in frustration. “So, let me get this straight,” he said, his tone skeptical. “Eren disappears for seven months, and when we finally find him, he has a wife we never knew existed. And now, you’re telling us he’s been carrying around this secret since he was a kid?”

“It’s not a secret,” Aurora said softly. “It’s a memory. A painful one.”

Hange tilted her head, her sharp eyes studying Aurora closely. “And what exactly happened between you two during those seven months?” she asked, her voice curious but gentle. “You said you were hiding together, but surely there’s more to it than that.”

Aurora glanced down at her hands again, her heart racing. She knew she had to tread carefully. The truth about the Rumbling was something she couldn’t reveal—not yet. Not to the scouts. Not even to Mikasa.

“Like I told Captain Levi, we stayed in a cabin,” Aurora said, choosing her words carefully. “We lived quietly, away from the cities. Eren didn’t tell me much about his plans. He said... it was safer that way.”

“And you really expect us to believe that?” Levi’s voice cut through the air like a blade. His sharp eyes were fixed on Aurora, and she could feel the weight of his scrutiny. “You’re telling me that Eren, of all people, spent seven months with you and didn’t share a damn thing about what he was planning?”

Aurora met Levi’s gaze, forcing herself to remain calm. “He told me about the War Hammer Titan,” she said evenly. “He said he needed its power to protect Paradis. That’s all he told me.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t press further. He was good at reading people, and Aurora knew he was trying to determine if she was lying.

Mikasa, meanwhile, looked like she was on the verge of tears. She turned away from Aurora, her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why her? Why not me?”

The words hung in the air, heavy with sorrow and regret.

Aurora felt a pang of guilt deep in her chest, but she didn’t know how to respond. She hadn’t asked for Eren’s love—it had happened naturally, through years of shared experiences and mutual trust. But explaining that to Mikasa felt impossible.

All Aurora could do was stand there, waiting for Eren to come back—hoping that, somehow, everything would be okay.

…

A few hours later, the quiet hum of the room where Aurora rested was a stark contrast to the buzzing tension in the adjacent chamber where the scouts had gathered. Aurora lay curled up on the cot, her mind heavy with thoughts of Eren and the uncertainty that clouded their future. She desperately wished she could talk to him, but she knew that for now, all she could do was wait and hope.

Meanwhile, in the common room, the scouts were engaged in a heated discussion. The weight of everything that had happened in Liberio—Eren’s assault, the death of Willy Tybur, the sudden appearance of Eren’s mysterious wife—pressed heavily on their minds. No one was quite sure what to make of the situation.

Levi sat at the head of the room, his arms crossed, eyes sharp as blades as he listened to the others debate. His gaze flickered to each speaker, but his mind was already working through his own conclusions.

“She seems… nice ,” Sasha offered cautiously, glancing around at the others as if she wasn’t entirely sure it was the right thing to say.

“Yeah, real nice,” Jean muttered sarcastically, slouched back in his chair with his arms folded. “You’d have to be real nice to marry someone like Eren after everything he’s done.”

Armin shot Jean a disapproving look. “She was in Marley,” Armin said quietly. “We don’t know what she went through there. She might not even fully understand what Eren’s doing.”

Connie leaned forward, his brow furrowed in confusion. “But still… married ? Eren’s never even mentioned her before. How do we go from not knowing anything to suddenly finding out he has a wife?”

Jean shook his head, scoffing. “I mean, come on— Eren? Married? This is Eren we’re talking about. When did he even have the time to fall in love?”

“He was gone for seven months,” Sasha pointed out gently. “A lot can happen in seven months.”

Armin sighed, rubbing his temples. “What I don’t understand is why Eren didn’t tell us. We’re supposed to be his friends. We’re supposed to trust each other.”

Hange, who had been sitting quietly on the edge of the room, finally spoke up. “I don’t think it’s that simple, Armin,” she said thoughtfully. “Eren’s always been the type to carry things alone. Maybe he didn’t think we’d understand.”

Jean let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, well, I definitely don’t understand.”

Levi shifted slightly in his seat, his expression unreadable, but his sharp eyes glinted with suspicion. “I don’t trust her,” he said bluntly, cutting through the conversation like a knife. The room fell into a heavy silence at his words, everyone turning to look at him.

Connie tilted his head, frowning. “You mean Aurora?”

“Yes,” Levi said flatly. “She’s not telling us everything.”

Armin frowned. “What do you mean?”

Levi’s gaze was cold and calculating, the same gaze that had unnerved countless enemies on the battlefield. “Think about it,” he said. “Eren vanishes for months, shows up out of nowhere in Liberio, and suddenly he’s married to someone we’ve never heard of. Someone who knew him from childhood and conveniently reappeared right when Eren needs to carry out a major assault?”

Jean’s brow furrowed. “You think she’s hiding something?”

Levi gave a curt nod. “She knows more than she’s letting on. And to be married to someone like Eren…” He trailed off, his gaze darkening. “You’d have to be a certain type of person.”

Sasha glanced nervously between Levi and Armin. “But she seems harmless. I mean, she’s quiet and gentle. She’s not exactly a threat.”

“People who seem harmless are often the most dangerous,” Levi muttered. “I’ve seen enough to know that much.”

Armin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “You think she’s dangerous?”

“I think she’s unpredictable,” Levi corrected. “And unpredictable is dangerous. We don’t know what kind of hold she has over Eren. We don’t know if she’s working with someone, or if she’s manipulating him.”

Connie leaned back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck. “But Eren’s not the type to be manipulated, right?”

“People change,” Levi said, his voice flat. “Especially after everything Eren’s been through. If she’s the only person he’s confided in all this time, then she’s got influence over him. And that makes her dangerous.”

Hange raised an eyebrow. “You really think Aurora has that much sway over Eren?”

Levi’s gaze didn’t waver. “I think we need to keep an eye on her.”

Armin’s jaw tightened. “Eren truly loves her,” he said quietly. “We saw the way he looked at her—how he reacted to Jean on the airship. It’s not manipulation, Captain. He cares about her.”

Levi’s expression didn’t soften. “That doesn’t change the fact that she’s hiding something.”

Jean ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. “This whole thing is insane. Eren’s barely been himself lately, and now we’ve got a wife thrown into the mix? What the hell is he thinking?”

Sasha shrugged helplessly. “Maybe… maybe she makes him happy?”

Jean scoffed. “Yeah, well, happiness doesn’t seem to be high on Eren’s priority list these days.”

Hange rested her chin on her hand, a thoughtful glint in her eye. “Still… it’s curious, isn’t it? Eren’s been planning this for a long time, and Aurora’s been with him through it all. I can’t help but wonder what she really knows.”

Armin looked troubled, his mind racing with questions. “Do you really think she’s hiding Eren’s plans from us?”

Levi gave a slight nod. “Yes. And we need to find out what she’s not telling us.”

A heavy silence settled over the room as everyone processed Levi’s words. The reality of the situation was sinking in—Eren had changed, and Aurora was now a part of his life in a way none of them had expected. Whether she was a friend or a threat was still unclear.

Jean let out a tired sigh. “Great. Just what we needed—another mystery.”

Connie glanced toward the door, his brow furrowed in thought. “What do we do now?”

Levi’s gaze was cold and unwavering. “We keep watching. And we don’t trust her until we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

The weight of Levi’s words lingered in the air, filling the room with unease. The scouts exchanged uneasy glances, each of them grappling with the uncertainty of the situation.

Aurora might have been Eren’s wife, but to them, she was still a stranger. And in a world as dangerous as theirs, strangers could not be trusted.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

Eren sat on the cold stone floor of his cell, his hands resting on his knees, head bowed. The dim light flickered above him, casting long shadows on the damp walls. The silence was suffocating, yet his mind raced. He couldn't stop thinking about Aurora—her soft smile, the warmth of her touch, and the love she had given him unconditionally.

But now, everything was clear. Aurora’s royal lineage wasn’t just a coincidence; it was the missing piece of the puzzle Eren had been struggling to assemble. Knowing the truth about her bloodline added a whole new layer to his plans. He would protect Aurora with everything he had. No one— no one —could ever learn what she truly was. Not yet.

Eren closed his eyes, sinking into the memories he had unlocked through the War Hammer Titan. He focused, pulling the threads of Clive’s past to the forefront of his mind, watching them unravel with vivid clarity.

…

He was inside Clive’s body again. Through his eyes, Eren saw the intricate, cruel world of the Tybur family. Clive stood in one of their elaborate, coldly decorated halls, surrounded by opulence. But all that wealth and power only masked the hatred and cruelty they harbored toward their own kind—Eldians.

The Tyburs had summoned Clive to their estate to unlock the mysteries behind their own power. In particular, Clive was tasked with studying Nadia, the beautiful, soft-spoken woman with platinum blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Eren felt Clive’s emotions swell as he remembered how Nadia had first been presented to him like an object, bruised and battered from the Tyburs’ abuse. She was an enigma, and the Tyburs were obsessed with unlocking whatever secrets lay in her blood.

Eren could feel Clive’s anger simmer beneath the surface. How could they treat someone so kind, so gentle, like she was nothing more than a tool? Clive kept his fury buried, knowing that to lash out would only ensure his own death. But over the months, as he spent more time with Nadia, he began to fall in love with her.

The Tyburs wanted to use her, to mold her into a weapon for their own purposes. But Clive wouldn’t allow it. The anger and love he felt for Nadia ignited something deep within him—a need to protect her at any cost. He couldn’t let the Tyburs have her.

And so, he devised a desperate plan.

…

Eren’s vision shifted to the moment of Clive’s betrayal. It was a chaotic scene—Clive sprinted through the Tybur estate in the dead of night, Nadia’s hand clutched tightly in his own. He had already injected himself with titan fluid, his heart pounding as he waited for the transformation to take hold. They were being chased, Tybur guards closing in on them, shouting orders to capture them alive.

Clive stumbled but kept running, knowing he only had seconds. As his body began to twist and contort, the terrifying agony of the titan transformation overtook him. With a deafening roar, his pure titan form burst forth, muscles rippling as he tore through the estate, scattering guards like leaves in a storm.

Eren saw everything through Clive’s eyes—saw him towering over the Tybur patriarch, who held the power of the War Hammer Titan. With a savage swipe, Clive's pure titan slammed the man into the ground. Before anyone could react, Clive ripped him apart, consuming his flesh and spinal fluid in a single, horrific bite.

The War Hammer Titan’s power surged through Clive’s veins, transforming him in an instant. White, sinewy armor encased his titan’s body, and a massive hammer materialized in his hand. The guards could do nothing but watch in horror as Clive wielded the War Hammer like a god, obliterating everything in his path.

With Nadia in his grasp, Clive fled the estate, smashing through walls and buildings, unstoppable in his new titan form.

…

The vision shifted again, and Eren found himself on a boat. The creak of wood and the splash of waves filled his ears as Clive—now in human form—sat beside Nadia. His clothes were soaked, his body exhausted from the transformation, but there was a fierce determination in his eyes.

He had stolen a boat, and they were sailing across the ocean toward Paradis. Nadia clung to his side, terrified but relieved to finally be free of the Tybur family’s grip. Clive wrapped an arm around her, whispering reassurances as the coastline of Paradis came into view.

…

Eren’s vision blurred as the memory shifted to their arrival at Wall Maria. Clive, still holding Nadia, transformed into the War Hammer Titan one final time to carry them to safety. Eren could feel Clive’s exhaustion—his body was weakening. But still, he ran, smashing through hordes of pure titans that tried to intercept them as they crossed the open land toward Shiganshina.

When they finally reached the walls, Clive collapsed in exhaustion. He had given everything to bring Nadia to safety. They found a small house in Shiganshina, moving in next to the Jaeger family, and began a new life under new identities.

Years passed. Clive and Nadia married. They eventually had a daughter—Aurora. For a time, they were happy, living quietly in their little home. But the Tyburs had not forgotten them.

The final memory hit Eren like a punch to the gut.

It was Clive’s last day. His body had grown weak from his thirteen-year curse, and he knew he could no longer protect his family. The Tyburs found them, with the Jaw titan assisting them and leading the attack. Clive fought back with everything he had, wielding his own War Hammer one final time.

But he was too weak. The Jaw Titan overpowered him, breaking through his armor. In his last moments, Clive looked back at Nadia and Aurora, his heart breaking as he realized he couldn’t save them.

Lara injected herself with titan serum and transformed into a pure titan— roaring as she devoured Clive, reclaiming the power of the War Hammer Titan for the Tybur family.

…

The vision faded, and Eren opened his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. He sat in the darkness of his cell, his mind racing as he pieced everything together.

It all made sense now. The Tyburs had kept Aurora as a slave not just out of cruelty, but because of the bloodline she carried—the same royal blood that ran through her mother.

Eren clenched his fists. They took everything from her. From Clive, from Nadia. From Aurora.

And now, the Tyburs were gone. Eren had seen to that. He had taken the War Hammer Titan’s power for himself, and with it, he would carve a path toward freedom.

Aurora’s royal blood was the key to everything. And Eren would make damn sure no one ever found out. Not the Military Police, not the government. Not even Aurora herself .

With renewed resolve, Eren leaned back against the wall, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

No one would ever take Aurora away from him. Not now. Not ever.

And when the time came, he would burn the world to the ground to make sure of it.

As Eren continued to sit motionless on the edge of the bench, his hands resting on his knees, green eyes sharp as the dim light flickered above him. Footsteps echoed down the corridor, and he tilted his head slightly, recognizing the soft but deliberate tread.

Queen Historia Reiss entered, her golden hair glinting in the faint light. Dressed in a simple but elegant gown, she carried the quiet authority that had come to define her reign. Her piercing blue eyes swept the cell with an unreadable expression. Behind her, two guards followed, hands resting on the straps of their rifles. 

“Leave us,” Historia ordered softly, not sparing the guards a second glance.

The two soldiers exchanged hesitant looks but gave curt nods before retreating through the door, the clang of it shutting behind them resonating through the chamber. The room grew still.

Eren looked up at her, his expression calm but watchful. Historia stepped closer to the bars, her arms folded loosely in front of her. “Eren,” she began, arching a brow. “What’s this I’ve been hearing about you bringing back a wife?”

Eren’s lips twitched slightly—a ghost of a smile, as if amused by how quickly news traveled. “Didn’t think it’d take long for word to get to you.”

Historia shook her head, leaning against the cold metal bars. “You’ve managed to leave everyone in shock— again . A wife, Eren? How did this even happen?”

Eren shifted slightly, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting hers again. “Her name is Aurora. We’ve known each other since we were kids in Shiganshina. She was my first friend.”

Historia’s brow furrowed. “Since Shiganshina?” she repeated, a flicker of surprise crossing her features. “Why didn’t you ever mention her?”

Eren exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because after she disappeared, I thought she was gone for good. The Tyburs took her and her family. They enslaved her in Marley. I found her while I was undercover.”

Historia’s expression softened, and for a moment, the hard edges of the queen disappeared, replaced by the kind-hearted girl Eren had once known. “And you brought her back with you,” she said quietly, understanding dawning in her voice.

Eren nodded, his gaze turning somber. “I had to. I couldn’t leave her there, not after everything they did to her.” His voice dropped, thick with emotion. “She’s been through enough.”

Historia studied him for a long moment, her blue eyes searching his face. “You love her.”

It wasn’t a question, and Eren didn’t bother denying it. “Yeah. I do.”

A brief silence settled between them, heavy with unspoken words. Then Historia gave a small sigh, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I can understand why you brought her back. But Eren… you know this complicates things.”

“I know,” Eren said, his voice low but resolute. “That’s why I need your help.”

Historia tilted her head slightly, her gaze curious. “What kind of help?”

“Aurora is with the scouts right now, and Floch is keeping an eye on her,” Eren explained. “But I’d feel better if she was with you. I know the scouts are on edge, and I can’t trust the MPs or the Garrison. But if Aurora is under your protection, no one would dare touch her.”

Historia’s lips pressed into a thin line as she considered his words. “That’s a big ask, Eren. The MPs are already on high alert after what happened in Marley. Bringing her here won’t go unnoticed.”

“I know,” Eren said quietly. “But Aurora isn’t just someone I love— she’s important . I need her safe, Historia. She’s…” He trailed off, his eyes darkening as he carefully chose his words. “She’s everything to me.”

Historia studied him, her expression softening. “Alright,” she said finally. “I’ll take her in. But you owe me for this, Eren.”

A rare smile flickered across Eren’s face—one of gratitude rather than triumph. “Thank you.”

Historia gave a small nod, but the weight of the situation wasn’t lost on her. “And what about you? What happens next?”

Eren’s eyes hardened, the warmth in his expression replaced by cold determination. “Floch is rounding up our people from every branch of the military. When the time comes, I’m breaking out of this cell.”

“And then what?” Historia asked, her voice low and serious.

“I’ll take control,” Eren said flatly. “The old brass has to go. They’ve already failed us, and they’ll fail us again if we let them.”

Historia leaned in slightly, her gaze steady. “You know they won’t give up without a fight.”

“They won’t have a choice,” Eren replied, his voice cold. “With the Jaegerists in place, we’ll dismantle the old system. And when the people look for guidance, they’ll listen to you.”

Historia crossed her arms, her expression thoughtful. “You’re expecting me to back you.”

“Yes,” Eren said simply. “You’re the queen. The people trust you. They’ll follow your lead.”

“And what exactly are you asking me to support, Eren?” Historia’s voice was sharp now, though not unkind. “Is this about the Rumbling?”

Eren’s jaw tightened. “You know the answer to that.”

Historia sighed deeply, rubbing her temples. “I knew this day would come. I just didn’t think it would come so soon.”

Eren’s eyes softened, just for a moment. “I told you this was the only way.”

Historia met his gaze, and for a long moment, they stood in silence—two friends bound by impossible choices. Finally, she gave a reluctant nod. “Alright, Eren. I’ll support you.”

Eren exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Thank you.”

“Just... make sure you know what you’re doing,” Historia warned softly. “Because once this starts, there’s no going back.”

Eren’s gaze was steady, filled with quiet resolve. “I know. But this is the only way to keep Aurora safe. To keep all of us safe.”

With that, Historia gave him a final, lingering look before stepping back from the bars. “I’ll get Aurora tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll keep her safe.”

Eren gave a curt nod. “That’s all I need.”

Historia turned toward the door, pausing just long enough to glance over her shoulder. “Take care of yourself, Eren. You might need it.”

Eren watched as the door swung shut behind her, leaving him alone once again in the dim light of the cell. But this time, he didn’t feel the crushing weight of isolation.

He had Aurora. He had a plan. And soon, everything would fall into place.

…

Aurora sat by the window in the room the Scouts had given her, staring out at the bustling streets of Paradis below. The sun filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows on the floor, but she felt none of its warmth. Her fingers twisted together nervously in her lap, her mind filled with questions that had no answers.

Where was Eren? Was he okay? When would she see him again?

The uncertainty gnawed at her. Every moment away from Eren felt unbearable, and the weight of being in this strange place, surrounded by people who didn’t know or trust her, made it worse. These were Eren’s comrades, the ones he had fought alongside for years. But to Aurora, they were strangers. Their eyes— especially Levi’s —followed her with a quiet suspicion, an unspoken doubt that lingered in the air.

She could feel it, the distrust hanging heavy in the room like a suffocating fog.

Mikasa, in particular, was the hardest to face. Every time Aurora caught Mikasa’s gaze, it was like being pierced with a thousand knives. Mikasa didn’t have to say anything; the way she looked at Aurora said it all—resentment, jealousy, heartbreak. As if Aurora had stolen something precious from her.

Aurora sighed softly, her fingers tightening around the hem of her dress. She wished she could just go back to the cabin. Back to the place where she felt safe, where she could be with Eren without the weight of the world pressing down on them. But that wasn’t possible, not now. She was here, in Paradis, far from the life she had grown used to over the past few months.

A soft knock at the door broke her thoughts. The door creaked open, and Hange stepped inside, her usual enthusiasm tempered by a cautious smile. “Hey there, Aurora,” Hange said, her tone light but gentle. “How are you holding up?”

Aurora offered a small smile in return, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m... managing,” she replied, her voice soft.

Hange walked over and took a seat on the edge of the bed, studying her curiously. “I know this is a lot to take in,” Hange said, her voice softening. “But I want you to know that you’re safe here. Eren... well, he’s in a bit of a situation, but he’ll be fine.”

Aurora nodded, though the knot of anxiety in her chest remained. “I just... I don’t know anyone here. It’s strange being surrounded by his comrades and feeling like an outsider.”

Hange tilted her head sympathetically. “It’s understandable. You’ve been through a lot, and now you’re in a completely different world. But trust me, the others will come around. They just need some time.”

Aurora glanced out the window again, her brow furrowed. “I feel like they don’t trust me.”

Hange’s eyes softened. “It’s not that they don’t trust you... well, not exactly. It’s just that Eren’s been keeping a lot of secrets, and bringing you back was a surprise to everyone. Levi, in particular, doesn’t like surprises.”

“Levi,” Aurora whispered, her fingers twisting tighter. “I can feel how much he distrusts me.”

Hange chuckled softly, though there was no humor in her voice. “Levi’s... protective. He doesn’t trust easily, especially when it comes to Eren. They’ve been through a lot together, and Levi’s just trying to figure out what’s going on.”

Aurora nodded, understanding, but it didn’t ease the weight on her chest. “And Mikasa?” she asked quietly, her voice almost trembling. “She looks at me like...”

“Like you’ve taken something from her?” Hange finished gently, watching Aurora closely. “Mikasa has... complicated feelings about Eren. They’ve been close for years, and she cares about him—deeply. Seeing you with him... it’s hard for her.”

Aurora swallowed, her throat tight. “I never meant to hurt her.”

“I know,” Hange said, her voice kind. “But feelings don’t always work the way we want them to. Give her time. She’ll come around.”

The door opened again, and this time Floch stepped in, offering Aurora a friendly nod. “You okay in here?” he asked, his tone casual but concerned.

Aurora managed a small smile. “I’m fine. Just... thinking.”

Floch crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Don’t worry about Levi or the others. They’ll get over it. Eren asked me to look after you, so you’ve got nothing to worry about while you’re here.”

“I appreciate that,” Aurora said quietly, though the uncertainty still lingered in her heart.

Floch glanced at Hange, then back at Aurora. “You know, Eren’s going to need all the support he can get when he comes back. He’s got a plan, a vision for this island’s future. And you’re a part of that now.”

Aurora’s chest tightened at the mention of Eren’s plan. She knew what Floch meant—the Rumbling. The weight of it pressed down on her again, the guilt she had been carrying ever since Eren told her what he was planning to do. She nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

Just as Floch was about to say something else, there was another knock at the door. This time, it was Armin. He stepped inside cautiously, offering Aurora a gentle smile.

“Hey,” Armin said softly. “I just wanted to check on you.”

Aurora smiled, grateful for his kindness. “Thank you. I’m... trying to adjust.”

Armin nodded, understanding. “It’s not easy, I know. But we’re all here to help. Eren’s our friend... and now you are too.”

The sincerity in his words brought a warmth to Aurora’s heart, but before she could respond, Levi appeared in the doorway, his sharp eyes sweeping the room.

“We need to talk,” Levi said flatly, his gaze locking onto Aurora.

He stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and his eyes as sharp as ever. Aurora looked up, startled by his sudden presence, but quickly composed herself. His gaze was intense, as if he could see straight through her.

"Enough resting," Levi said, his voice curt. "I need to know what you can do."

Aurora blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

Levi stepped further into the room, his boots barely making a sound as he approached. "We don’t have time for passengers. If you’re staying here, you need to prove you’re useful. So what are your skills? What can you do to help?"

The tension in the room thickened. Aurora shifted in her seat, feeling the pressure of Levi’s unrelenting stare. The other scouts stood just behind Levi, their expressions curious but guarded. Hange, ever curious, leaned in slightly, clearly intrigued by where this conversation might lead.

Aurora took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. “I’m not a soldier,” she began, her voice steady but soft. “I’ve never been trained to fight.” She hesitated for a moment before meeting Levi’s eyes. “But I am a herbalist.”

“A herbalist?” Levi asked, skepticism clear in his tone.

“Yes,” Aurora said, more confidently now. “I’ve been studying plants and natural remedies my whole life. When Eren and I were hiding in Marley, I spent a lot of time gathering herbs and experimenting with different mixtures.” She reached into the bag she always kept close by, pulling out a small, worn notebook. “Here.”

She handed the notebook to Levi, who glanced down at it, his expression unreadable. Hange stepped closer, peering over Levi’s shoulder, her eyes lighting up with interest.

“What’s this?” Hange asked eagerly.

“It’s my notes,” Aurora explained. “Over the last seven months, I documented everything I learned about the local plants near where Eren and I stayed. I created elixirs and remedies, mostly to help Eren. He... he was tired often after gathering information all day, and I wanted to do something to help him.”

Levi flipped through the pages, his eyes scanning the detailed illustrations of plants and the careful handwriting that filled every corner. Hange’s face lit up with excitement as she read over his shoulder.

Aurora reached into her bag again, this time pulling out several small vials filled with various liquids. “These are the elixirs I made,” she said, holding them out for the others to see. “I gave them to Eren regularly. They helped raise his stamina, increased his recovery time, and allowed him to transform multiple times in succession during the raid on Liberio.”

Levi raised an eyebrow, but it was Hange who reacted first, her excitement barely contained. “Wait, that’s how Eren was able to transform three times during the raid?” she asked, her eyes wide. “It wasn’t just his Titan powers? It was because of these ?”

Aurora nodded. “Yes. He had been taking them for weeks before the raid. I... I didn’t know if they would work the way I hoped, but they did.”

Hange practically bounced on her heels, reaching out to take one of the vials from Aurora’s hand. She held it up to the light, examining the contents with a gleam in her eyes. “This is fascinating! You managed to create something that enhances a Titan shifter’s abilities? How did you even figure this out?”

Aurora gave a small, nervous smile. “It wasn’t easy. I spent a lot of time experimenting, trying different combinations of herbs and plants. Eren was... well, he was my test subject, I guess.”

Levi handed the notebook to Hange, who eagerly accepted it and began flipping through it with intense focus. He glanced back at Aurora, his expression still unreadable but slightly less skeptical than before.

“And these elixirs,” Levi said slowly, “they actually made a difference?”

Aurora nodded again. “Yes. They helped Eren recover faster, and they gave him the stamina he needed to transform multiple times. Without them... I don’t think he would have been able to do what he did in Liberio.”

Levi was silent for a moment, his sharp eyes narrowing as he processed the information. He then turned to Hange. “Thoughts?”

Hange’s eyes were practically glowing with excitement as she clutched the notebook to her chest. “I think we’ve just stumbled upon something incredible, Levi. If these elixirs can do what she says they can... this could change everything.”

Levi looked back at Aurora, his expression still hard but slightly less cold than before. “Alright,” he said finally. “You’re not completely useless.”

Aurora let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, feeling a small weight lift off her shoulders. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“But,” Levi added, his voice sharp again, “I’ll be keeping an eye on you. If you’re hiding anything else, or if those elixirs have any... side effects, you’ll answer to me. Understood?”

Aurora nodded quickly. “Understood.”

Levi gave her one last long look before turning on his heel and heading for the door. Hange, still clutching the notebook, followed close behind, muttering excitedly to herself about the possibilities of using these elixirs in the field.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Aurora exhaled, sinking back into her chair. The room was quiet now, the tension having lifted somewhat, but the unease still lingered.

She had proven herself useful, for now. But there was still so much more she was keeping from them—about Eren, about his plans, and most importantly, about her own past.

And she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep those secrets buried.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16

As soon as Levi left, Hange practically bounced back into the room grinning, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “These elixirs of yours, Aurora, they’re absolutely fascinating! I mean, I’ve seen plenty of Titan shifters, and Eren’s ability to transform three times during the Liberio raid was impressive, to say the least. But if your mixtures had a hand in that? Oh, the possibilities are endless!”

Aurora smiled nervously, still adjusting to the pace and intensity of Hange’s enthusiasm. “I didn’t think they’d work so well,” she admitted. “I just wanted to help Eren. He’s... always pushing himself beyond his limits.”

Hange nodded vigorously. “That sounds like him. But, oh! Imagine what we could learn if we tested these elixirs in different conditions, maybe even with other Titan shifters! I’d love to analyze the properties further, maybe even—”

Suddenly, a knock at the door interrupted Hange’s excited ramblings. The door swung open, revealing a Scout standing at attention. “Commander Hange,” he said, his voice formal. “Her Majesty is here. She’s asking to see Aurora Jaeger.”

The room fell silent. Aurora blinked, still getting used to the sound of her new last name. “ Jaeger .” It felt both foreign and familiar all at once. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to it, but the warmth in her heart at being Eren’s wife outweighed the strangeness.

Hange’s eyes widened slightly, but before she could say anything, Levi reappeared, his sharp gaze darting between the Scout and Aurora. “Historia’s here?” he asked, his voice clipped. “Why?”

“She’s here to collect Aurora,” the Scout responded. “As promised.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed. He crossed his arms, his posture stiff. “Promised by whom?”

The Scout hesitated, then answered, “ Eren Jaeger .”

Levi’s expression darkened instantly. “Of course,” he muttered under his breath. He turned back toward Aurora, his gaze hard. “So, Eren’s already pulling strings from his cell, is he?”

Aurora shifted uncomfortably. She wasn’t sure how to answer. This was all new to her, and she could sense Levi’s increasing suspicion.

But before anyone could respond, Queen Historia herself stepped into the room, her presence commanding despite her small stature. She was dressed simply but regally, her blonde hair framing her face, and her blue eyes were as calm and composed as ever.

“Captain Levi,” Historia greeted him, her voice steady. “I’m here to take Aurora with me.”

Levi’s jaw tightened, and he gave Historia a cool glance. “And why is that?” he asked sharply. “Eren didn’t speak a word during his interrogation, but it seems he’s more than willing to give you orders. What else did he tell you?”

Historia remained unflappable, her gaze steady as she met Levi’s intense stare. “Eren only asked me to ensure Aurora’s safety,” she said smoothly. “He trusts me to protect her, and that’s all there is to it.”

Levi wasn’t buying it . His eyes narrowed further, scrutinizing Historia. “You expect me to believe that? That’s the only thing he told you? You and Eren have been close ever since the Reiss chapel incident four years ago. You spent weeks together after that, trying to figure out how to activate the Founding Titan’s powers.”

Historia tilted her head slightly, her expression unchanging. “I’m the Queen of Paradis, Captain. Eren asked me for a favor, and I agreed. I don’t owe you any more of an explanation than that.”

Levi’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “He’s planning something. And if you’re involved, then I need to know what it is.”

Historia’s eyes remained calm, her authority as queen evident in every word. “You have your suspicions, and I understand that, but I have no intention of discussing Eren’s private matters with you. My only concern right now is ensuring Aurora’s safety, as per Eren’s request.”

Levi’s frustration was palpable, but Historia stood her ground. She stepped forward, gently placing a hand on Aurora’s shoulder. “Aurora will be safe with me. That’s all you need to know.”

Aurora glanced between Levi and Historia, feeling the tension in the air. She knew that Levi didn’t trust her, and now it was clear that his suspicions extended to Historia as well. The weight of being in this political web was suffocating, and all she wanted was to be with Eren again.

Levi studied Historia for a long moment before exhaling sharply. “Fine,” he said finally, his voice low. “But if anything happens—if you or Eren make a move that puts the Scouts or Paradis at risk—I’ll hold both of you accountable.”

Historia met his gaze without flinching. “Understood.”

Without another word, Levi turned on his heel and left the room again, his cloak swirling behind him. As the door closed behind him, the room settled into an uneasy quiet. Aurora glanced at Historia, who was watching her with calm, understanding eyes. Aurora had heard of Historia from Eren, had heard how this woman had pulled him from the depths of despair and given him the courage to move forward when all hope seemed lost. Eren had spoken of her with a level of respect and admiration that had made Aurora realize just how important Historia was in his life.

“Historia... Queen Historia,” Aurora started, her voice soft but steady. “Eren told me about you. How you helped him when... when he was at his lowest. He trusts you completely, and I’m grateful for that.”

Historia’s lips curved into a small, warm smile. “Just Historia is fine. And Eren has done as much for me as I have for him.” She stepped closer, gently taking Aurora’s hand in hers. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Aurora. Eren spoke about you, too. I know how much you mean to him.”

Aurora blinked, a wave of warmth spreading through her chest. “He... talked about me?”

Historia nodded, her eyes kind. “Yes. He told me about how you two found each other in Marley, about how you gave him the strength to keep going when everything seemed impossible. He cares for you deeply.”

Aurora felt her cheeks warm as she glanced away for a moment, the weight of Historia’s words settling in her heart. “Eren is... everything to me,” she admitted quietly. “And if he trusts you, I do too.”

The two women shared a moment of silent understanding before Historia squeezed Aurora’s hand gently. “Eren wants you to be safe, and that’s why I’m here. We’ll make sure of that.”

Aurora nodded, still feeling a lingering anxiety about everything. "Did... did Eren tell you everything?" she asked hesitantly, her thoughts drifting to the plans for the Rumbling. "Do you know... what he's planning?"

Historia's expression remained calm, but there was a subtle shift in her eyes, a glimmer of something deeper. "Eren and I... we understand each other. I know what he's fighting for and what needs to be done. You don’t need to worry about that right now."

Aurora’s heart fluttered with uncertainty. Historia didn’t directly answer her question, but Aurora could sense that she knew more than she was letting on. Eren must have confided in her about the Rumbling, the same way he had confided in Aurora. The weight of that knowledge pressed down on her again, but she trusted Eren’s judgment. If he trusted Historia, so would she.

As they prepared to leave, Floch appeared in the doorway. His presence was always a bit intimidating, and Aurora noticed the way he exchanged a knowing look with Historia. There was something unspoken between them, an understanding about the events that were about to unfold.

Floch gave Historia a firm nod, his expression serious. “Everything’s in place. I’ll stay with the others and make sure everything goes according to plan.”

Historia nodded back, her expression one of quiet resolve. "Good. Keep an eye on things here. I'll take care of Aurora."

Floch’s eyes flickered toward Aurora, and for the first time, there was something softer in his usually hardened gaze. "Don't worry," he said to her, his voice surprisingly calm. "We’ve got this under control. Just stay with the queen."

With that, Floch stepped aside, allowing Historia and Aurora to walk past him and out into the corridor. As they walked together, Aurora couldn’t help but wonder what lay ahead. So much had changed in the last few months—her life had been turned upside down—and now she was walking alongside a queen, the wife of a man she loved deeply but who was on the verge of enacting a plan that would change the world forever.

The thought of the Rumbling weighed heavily on her mind. Did Historia truly know the full extent of Eren’s plans? And if so, how could she be so calm about it? How could any of them?

The corridors of the building were quiet as they exited, but the air felt thick with anticipation, like a storm was brewing just beyond the horizon. Aurora glanced at Historia as they walked side by side, wanting to ask more but unsure if she should.

Finally, as they neared the exit, Aurora spoke again. “Historia,” she said softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “What... what’s going to happen? After all of this?”

Historia paused, her gaze turning thoughtful as she looked at Aurora. “The world is changing, Aurora. Eren is trying to protect us, trying to ensure that we have a future. But what that future looks like... we’ll have to wait and see.”

The cryptic nature of Historia’s words left Aurora with more questions than answers, but she understood one thing clearly: Eren wasn’t just fighting for himself. He was fighting for Paradis, for the people he loved—and that included her.

Aurora held onto that thought as they stepped outside into the open air. She could feel the weight of history pressing down on them, but she also felt Eren’s presence in every step she took. Whatever happened next, she would face it with the same strength that had carried her this far.

And with Historia by her side, Aurora knew she wasn’t alone in this. They would protect each other, just as Eren had asked.

But Aurora’s thoughts kept circling back to him. The uncertainty gnawed at her, filling her with a sense of unease that she couldn’t shake. Every moment away from him felt heavier, as if the distance between them grew larger with every step she took. She couldn’t help herself.

“Historia,” Aurora said quietly, her voice almost tentative. “Do you think... do you think I can see him? Eren, I mean. Can you take me to him?”

Historia paused mid-step, her expression softening as she looked at Aurora. There was a brief silence between them, and then Historia shook her head gently. “I’m afraid that’s not possible right now, Aurora. Eren’s... in a delicate situation. He needs time.”

Aurora frowned, feeling the disappointment sink in. “But why? I know he’s in a cell, but... why can’t I just see him? He’s my husband.”

Historia sighed softly, her eyes sympathetic. “I understand how you feel. I know you’re worried about him, and I don’t blame you for wanting to see him. But Eren has his reasons. He will break out when the time is right. It’s all part of the plan. Right now, we just need to trust him.”

The word "trust" lingered in the air between them. Aurora swallowed, trying to steady the anxious fluttering in her chest. She did trust Eren—she trusted him more than anyone in the world—but the thought of not seeing him, not knowing what he was going through, was unbearable. They’d just reunited not too long ago, had been through so much together, and now she felt helpless, like she was losing him again.

“But what if something happens?” Aurora’s voice trembled slightly as she spoke, unable to hide the anxiety creeping into her words. “What if... something goes wrong? Eren’s always putting himself in danger, always sacrificing himself for others. What if this time...”

“Aurora,” Historia said softly, stepping closer and placing a gentle hand on her arm. “I know this is hard. Believe me, I’ve been where you are. Eren doesn’t always let people in, and he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. But he’s stronger than you think. He has a plan, and we have to trust that he knows what he’s doing.”

Aurora bit her lip, her fingers gripping the strap of her bag tightly. She wanted to believe that everything would be okay, that Eren would come back to her soon. But the unknown was terrifying. The fear of losing him loomed large, no matter how much she tried to push it away.

Sensing Aurora’s continued distress, Historia gave her a reassuring smile and gently guided her to a nearby bench under a shaded tree. “Why don’t you sit with me for a bit?” Historia suggested, her tone calm and soothing. “Tell me more about yourself. Eren mentioned bits and pieces, but I’d like to hear it from you.”

Aurora hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded, taking a seat next to Historia. She wasn’t sure where to begin—so much had happened in such a short time. “I’m not sure what Eren told you about me,” she said quietly. “But... I wasn’t always like this. I used to live in Shiganshina. My family was... normal, at least for a while.”

Historia’s gaze remained attentive, encouraging Aurora to continue.

“My parents,” Aurora began, “they weren’t from Paradis originally. We were... we were hiding, I guess. We lived quietly in Shiganshina, and my mother was a herbalist. She taught me everything I know. My father was a researcher, but he... well, he did something that made powerful enemies, and they came for us.”

She paused, her throat tightening as the memories resurfaced. “When I was seven, they took my mother and me away. My father... I saw him get eaten by a Titan right in front of me. After that, we were taken to Marley, and I... I became a slave.”

Historia’s eyes widened slightly, her expression filled with quiet sympathy. “That’s horrible,” she murmured. “No one should have to go through that.”

Aurora nodded, her fingers twisting in her lap. “It was... it was hell. My mother died not long after. They treated her like she was nothing, and when she got sick, they refused to help. I spent years there, in that horrible place, until one day, Eren found me.”

Historia’s lips parted slightly in surprise. “Eren found you?”

Aurora smiled faintly at the memory. “Yes. He was undercover in Marley at the time, and he found me... sitting under a tree, singing to myself. I didn’t even recognize him at first, but then... it was like everything clicked. He saved me.”

Historia’s expression softened even more, her gaze warm and understanding. “Eren didn’t tell me everything, but I can see how much he cares about you.”

Aurora’s smile wavered. “He saved me in more ways than one. And now... now I feel like I owe him everything. He’s done so much for me, and I don’t want to lose him.”

“You won’t,” Historia said firmly. “Eren has a lot on his shoulders, but you give him strength. I can see that.”

Aurora met Historia’s gaze, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you... for saying that. And for coming to get me.”

Historia smiled again, this time with a glint of determination in her eyes. “I promised Eren I would look after you, and I intend to keep that promise. But more than that, I want you to know that you’re not alone in this. I understand the weight of carrying someone else’s burdens.”

Aurora nodded, feeling a small sense of comfort in Historia’s words. The anxiety still gnawed at her, but knowing that someone like Historia was watching over her eased some of the tension.

“What about you?” Aurora asked, her curiosity piqued. “Eren told me you’ve been through a lot as well. He said you gave him the courage to keep going.”

Historia’s smile faltered slightly, a faraway look crossing her face as she remembered those difficult times. “I suppose I did,” she said softly. “When Eren was at his lowest, I... I think we found strength in each other. He was ready to give up, to let himself be killed, but I couldn’t let that happen. We both had too much to live for.”

Aurora watched her carefully, sensing the depth of Historia’s emotions. “It sounds like you and Eren have been through a lot together.”

“We have,” Historia admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “We share a bond... one that was forged in some of the darkest moments of our lives. That’s why I trust him so much. No matter how hard things get, Eren always finds a way to move forward.”

Aurora nodded, understanding more now why Eren had such deep respect for Historia. She had been a guiding light for him when he needed it most, and now she was extending that same kindness to Aurora.

“I just want him to be okay,” Aurora said softly. “He’s always so focused on protecting everyone else, but I just want him to come back to me.”

“He will,” Historia said, her voice firm with conviction. “You’ll see.”

As they sat together under the shade of the tree, Aurora felt a small sliver of hope settle in her heart. Eren was strong. He had a plan. And as long as she trusted in him—and in the people who cared for him—they would make it through this storm.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17

The meeting room was dimly lit, the atmosphere thick with tension. Levi sat at the head of the long table, arms crossed, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever. The rest of the Scouts—Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Floch, and Hange—sat around him, along with Commander Pyxis and Commander Nile. The Premier sat across from Levi, his eyes sharp as he surveyed the gathered group.

Levi’s distrust hung in the air, palpable and weighty. He had always been someone who trusted few, but since their return from Marley, his suspicions had deepened. Too many things didn’t add up. And right now, at the center of his distrust, were three people: Historia, Aurora, and Floch .

“This situation with Eren is getting out of hand,” Levi began, his voice calm but laced with tension. “But it’s not just Eren. Something else is going on, and it involves more than just him.”

The others exchanged glances, sensing where this was heading. Mikasa, seated stiffly beside Armin, clenched her fists in her lap, clearly uncomfortable.

“Go on,” Pyxis said, leaning forward with interest. “You’ve been keeping something to yourself, Captain Levi. What is it you suspect?”

Levi’s gaze hardened as he glanced at each of them in turn. “Historia.”

At the mention of the queen’s name, several heads turned in surprise. Hange raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, while Jean’s expression shifted to one of uncertainty.

“What about her?” Armin asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Levi leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. “She’s hiding something. I’ve known Historia for years, and her behavior lately doesn’t sit right with me. Ever since she and Eren grew close after the Reiss chapel incident, something changed between them. She’s more involved in his plans than she’s letting on.”

Mikasa’s brow furrowed as she glanced up, looking conflicted. “Historia is our queen. Eren trusts her.”

“Exactly,” Levi snapped, his tone sharp. “And that’s the problem. Eren trusts her more than he trusts anyone else here—besides maybe Floch.”

All eyes turned to Floch, who stiffened in his seat but did his best to keep his composure. His hands were folded neatly on the table, his face a mask of forced calm.

“Why would Eren ask you to watch over his wife?” Levi continued, turning his piercing gaze to Floch. “Out of all the people in this room, why you ? When did you and Eren even get that close?”

Floch shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the room. He had expected questions, but Levi’s directness was unnerving. “Eren trusts me,” Floch replied, trying to sound casual. “He knows I’ll follow through with what needs to be done.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed even further. “Follow through with what exactly?”

Floch held up his hands defensively. “Look, Eren told me to make sure Aurora was safe. That’s all. He knows what’s coming and didn’t want her caught in the crossfire.”

Hange leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with interest. “Caught in the crossfire of what , Floch? Eren clearly has bigger plans than just protecting his wife, doesn’t he?”

Floch hesitated, his jaw clenching as he tried to figure out the best way to deflect. “I’m not involved in Eren’s personal plans,” he lied smoothly. “I’m just following orders. Eren knew we’d be going through some chaotic times, and he didn’t want Aurora hurt.”

Levi didn’t buy it for a second. His cold eyes remained fixed on Floch. “You’re hiding something, just like Historia. You and her, you’re both in cahoots with Eren. And whatever Eren’s planning, it involves more than just protecting some runaway slave from Marley.”

Mikasa’s gaze flickered between Levi and Floch, her heart pounding. She didn’t trust Floch either, but Eren’s secrecy was killing her. Why was he keeping so much from them? From her?

“I don’t understand what you’re implying, Captain,” Floch said, his voice tightening. “Eren is doing what he thinks is best for Paradis. He’s trying to protect us.”

“Protect us from what ?” Jean interjected, leaning forward, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “From Marley? From the world? Eren didn’t tell any of us about his plans before we went to Liberio. He dragged us along, forced us to fight, and now we’re all stuck cleaning up his mess.”

“Eren has his reasons,” Floch replied defensively. “He’s doing what has to be done.”

Levi’s gaze remained fixed on Floch, unwavering. “And Historia? What’s her role in all of this?”

Floch’s lips tightened. “She’s the queen. Eren trusts her to keep the people in line. That’s it.”

“That’s not it,” Levi retorted, his voice low and dangerous. “I’ve seen the way Historia’s been acting. She’s too calm. Too composed. She knows more than she’s letting on. And if she’s in on whatever Eren’s planning, then we’re in for something much bigger than any of us realize.”

Pyxis, who had been quietly observing the exchange, spoke up at last. “Levi’s right. Queen Historia has been acting... unusually reserved, given the situation. Normally, I’d expect more out of her, especially given the precarious nature of Paradis right now.”

“And what about Aurora?” Commander Nile asked, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “She’s clearly involved as well, but she hasn’t told us much. She’s just as suspicious.”

Levi nodded grimly. “Aurora’s hiding something, too. She claims she doesn’t know about Eren’s plans, but her loyalty to him is too strong. She’s hiding information. Between her, Historia, and Floch, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve all been working with Eren for longer than we think.”

Floch’s jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around the edge of the table. “That’s a baseless accusation.”

“It’s not,” Levi countered, his voice cold. “I don’t trust any of you. Not right now.”

Mikasa, who had been quiet throughout most of the exchange, suddenly spoke up, her voice strained. “Eren’s always had his own way of doing things, but he’s never gone this far before. Whatever he’s planning... it’s not just about Marley, is it?”

Levi’s eyes flickered to Mikasa, his expression softening for a brief moment. “No,” he said quietly. “It’s not just about Marley. It’s bigger than that.”

The room remained tense as the conversation shifted. Levi’s suspicions about Historia, Aurora, and Floch had set an uneasy tone, but now the conversation veered into even darker territory. Premier Zachary sat at the head of the table, his fingers steepled as he looked over the group with a calculating expression. Commander Pyxis and Commander Nile exchanged wary glances, both of them clearly deep in thought.

“We have bigger concerns now than just Eren’s loyalty,” Premier Zachary began, his voice low and measured. “His actions in Liberio have set a dangerous precedent. The world knows now that we are a threat, and Marley will not let this go unanswered. They will retaliate, and soon.”

Hange, who had been silently absorbing everything, leaned forward with a troubled look. “It’s not just Marley. The entire world saw Eren attack Liberio, kill civilians, and consume the War Hammer Titan. The world will come for us, and we need to be prepared for that.”

Jean crossed his arms, his brow furrowed. “Prepared how? We don’t have the numbers or the technology to stand against the entire world. Marley alone is a nightmare, but if the other nations unite against us...”

Sasha shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “They’re going to come after us with everything they have. Eren didn’t just provoke Marley—he provoked the entire world.”

Connie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I hate to say it, but they’re right. The world isn’t going to forgive us for what Eren did.”

Levi remained silent, his sharp eyes flickering between the faces of the others. He agreed with their concerns, but his mind was still focused on Historia and Aurora. The fact that Eren had refused to answer any questions during his interrogation, yet had given specific instructions to Historia to take Aurora under her care, left Levi uneasy. There was more going on beneath the surface, and Eren was orchestrating something they didn’t fully understand.

“Then there’s Aurora,” Nile said, breaking the silence. His voice was cautious, but there was a note of suspicion in it. “We still don’t know her full role in all of this. Eren’s secrecy regarding her is unsettling. If she’s important enough to Eren that he sent her to Historia, there’s a chance she’s more involved than we think.”

Hange nodded in agreement. “And she’s not just some random woman from Marley. She was with Eren for seven months, and from what we’ve gathered, she was actively helping him. Eren’s transformations during the raid on Liberio were unnaturally frequent, and Aurora admitted to making elixirs that boosted his stamina.”

Jean raised an eyebrow. “Elixirs? Do we even know how reliable they are? She claims they helped him, but for all we know, she could be lying. Maybe it wasn’t her potions at all.”

Levi crossed his arms, his voice hard and cold. “It doesn’t matter whether her elixirs worked or not. The fact that Eren trusts her enough to involve her in his plans is what concerns me. He’s gone rogue, and she’s playing a part in whatever game he’s running.”

“Her Majesty’s involvement is just as concerning,” Commander Pyxis added, his tone thoughtful. “Eren’s relationship with Queen Historia has always been... unusual. The Queen has a lot of influence, and if she’s compromised, we could be dealing with more than just Eren’s rogue actions.”

Levi nodded grimly. “She’s compromised. There’s no doubt about it. Eren has Historia’s loyalty, and now he has Aurora in her care. We’re losing control of the situation.”

Mikasa, who had been listening in silence, suddenly spoke up, her voice shaking slightly. “Eren isn’t our enemy. He’s doing what he thinks is best for Paradis. He’s always fought for our freedom.”

Levi’s gaze snapped toward her, his eyes narrowing. “He’s gone rogue, Mikasa. He dragged us into a war without consulting anyone, and now we’re all paying the price.”

Mikasa clenched her fists, her eyes blazing with defiance. “He did what he had to. If we don’t fight back, Marley and the rest of the world will destroy us. Eren isn’t the problem—the world is.”

“Be that as it may,” Premier Zachary interjected, his voice cold and detached, “we cannot ignore the fact that Eren’s actions have endangered us all. We need to consider the possibility of removing him from power.”

A stunned silence filled the room.

“Remove him?” Armin echoed, his face paling. “What do you mean?”

Premier Zachary’s gaze turned steely. “We’ve been discussing options, and it’s clear that Eren’s intentions are no longer aligned with our own. He’s become a liability. We can’t risk leaving the Founding Titan’s power in the hands of someone who refuses to cooperate with the military.”

Levi remained silent, but his eyes darkened as he listened.

Commander Nile leaned forward, his expression serious. “There is another option. We could feed Eren to someone else—someone we trust. Someone who would follow orders and use the power of the Founding Titan responsibly.”

The suggestion hung heavy in the air, the weight of it crushing. Mikasa’s eyes widened in horror, and she shot to her feet, her hands slamming against the table.

“No!” she shouted, her voice shaking with emotion. “You can’t do that! Eren... Eren is trying to protect us! You can’t just... just kill him!”

“Mikasa...” Armin began softly, his face full of concern.

Mikasa’s eyes were wild, her breath coming in quick, uneven bursts. “He’s our friend! He’s saved us so many times! How can you even suggest something like that?”

Premier Zachary’s expression remained impassive. “This isn’t about friendship, Mikasa. It’s about the survival of Paradis. Eren’s reckless actions have put us all at risk, and if we don’t take control of the situation, we could lose everything.”

Hange spoke up, her voice more cautious. “I don’t think any of us want to see Eren harmed. But we need to consider the possibility that Eren’s path is leading us to destruction. We have to weigh all our options.”

Mikasa’s fists trembled as she stood there, her eyes blazing with emotion. “I won’t let you kill him,” she said, her voice low but full of determination. “I don’t care what it takes—I’ll protect him.”

Levi sighed, rubbing his temples. “Mikasa, no one wants to kill him. But if Eren keeps this up, he’ll end up getting himself killed, and all of us along with him.”

Mikasa’s gaze softened slightly, but her resolve remained firm. “There has to be another way. We can talk to him. Make him understand.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed. “He refused to talk during his interrogation. The only person he’s willing to communicate with is Historia. That should tell you everything you need to know.”

Jean spoke up, his voice strained. “Eren isn’t the same person he used to be. He’s different now. We all see it.”

Connie nodded in agreement. “He’s... distant. Cold. I don’t even recognize him anymore.”

Sasha glanced at Mikasa, her face full of sympathy. “But he’s still our friend, right? We owe it to him to at least try to talk to him before we make any decisions.”

Levi remained silent for a long moment before finally speaking. “We’ll try. But if Eren’s too far gone, we need to be prepared for the worst.”

The room fell into a tense silence once again. Mikasa slowly sank back into her chair, her face pale and full of despair. Armin placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, his expression grim.

Premier Zachary broke the silence, his voice cold and firm. “For now, we monitor Eren closely. No decisions will be made until we have more information. But if Eren continues down this path, we will have to take action—whether you like it or not.”

The meeting ended on that heavy note, each member of the group leaving the room with the weight of uncertainty on their shoulders. Eren was still in his cell, Floch, Historia and Aurora remained enshrouded in suspicion, and the looming threat of Marley’s retaliation hung over them like a storm cloud.

…

The cold stone corridors of the prison were eerily silent as Mikasa made her way to Eren's cell. The dim light from the torches flickered against the walls, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly. Her heart pounded in her chest, each step heavier than the last. She knew she wasn’t supposed to be here—especially not alone—but she had to talk to him. She had to warn him.

Eren had always been someone she thought she understood, but lately, it was like staring at a stranger. The man who sat behind the bars now, stoic and unreachable, wasn’t the boy she had fought beside for years. But despite everything—the pain, the confusion, the heartbreak—she needed to see him. She needed to tell him about what the military was planning. If anyone had a chance of getting through to him, it had to be her. Or so she thought .

As she reached Eren’s cell, her breath hitched. There he sat, on the simple wooden bench, his gaze fixed ahead, completely unfazed by the world around him. His long hair hung messily over his face, and the shadows of the bars cut across his features. He didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge her presence as she approached.

“Eren,” Mikasa whispered, gripping the cold metal bars. “I need to talk to you.”

Still, he said nothing. His eyes remained distant, staring at something only he could see.

Mikasa clenched her fists. She knew he had changed, but this silence—it was infuriating. “Eren, you have to listen to me. The military is planning something. They’re talking about replacing you… passing your titan powers to someone else.”

Eren’s eyes flickered briefly, but he remained silent, his expression unreadable.

“Eren!” Mikasa’s voice was harsher now, a mix of desperation and frustration. “Do you even care? Do you understand what they’re saying? They want to kill you and pass your powers to someone else!”

Still, no response. His face remained calm, stoic, as if the weight of her words meant nothing to him.

Mikasa’s heart twisted in her chest. This wasn’t the Eren she knew—the boy who fought with everything he had, who raged against the world, who wanted to save everyone. This man before her seemed… resigned, unmoved by the threat looming over him. But she couldn’t give up. She wouldn’t give up.

“I’ve always been by your side,” Mikasa continued, her voice breaking slightly. “I’ve fought for you, protected you, and now you’re just… sitting there like nothing matters. Don’t you understand? They’re going to make a decision soon, and if you don’t do something, they’ll—”

Eren finally moved, his eyes shifting to meet hers. But instead of the anger or determination she expected, there was only calm detachment. His lips parted, and he spoke, his voice low and indifferent.

“I don’t care what they’re planning.”

Mikasa’s breath caught in her throat. “What…?”

“I already have a plan in motion,” Eren continued, his tone unwavering. “Let them plot all they want. It doesn’t matter. As long as Aurora is safe with Historia, everything is going according to plan.”

Mikasa’s heart sank at the mention of Aurora’s name, her stomach twisting painfully. Of course, it was about Aurora. Everything was about her now. Mikasa’s chest tightened with a mix of jealousy, anger, and heartbreak. She had always thought—no, she had always believed —that she and Eren shared something special, something deeper than friendship. She had devoted herself to him, protected him, loved him. But in the end, none of it mattered, did it? Because Eren had chosen someone else.

“You…” Her voice trembled, barely keeping the tears at bay. “You don’t care about me at all, do you?”

Eren’s expression didn’t change. “Mikasa, this isn’t about you. It’s about the future of Paradis. I’m doing what needs to be done.”

“What needs to be done?” Mikasa’s frustration bubbled over, and before she could stop herself, she was lashing out. “You ran off in Marley! You left us— left me —without saying anything! You didn’t care about how any of us felt! And then you come back, dragging us into your plan, and now we find out that you’ve married some woman we don’t even know?!”

Eren’s eyes remained on her, unblinking. “Mikasa…”

“No!” Mikasa’s voice cracked, the pain in her heart spilling out as she pressed her forehead against the cold bars, her hands gripping them tightly. “You don’t understand, do you? I’ve always thought… I’ve always hoped that one day it would be us . That we’d fight side by side, survive together… and maybe—maybe we’d finally be together. But now—now you’ve married her.”

Mikasa could barely breathe, her emotions overwhelming her. She felt exposed, vulnerable, something she had never allowed herself to be. She had held back her feelings for so long, always hoping that someday Eren would see her the way she saw him. But now, all those hopes were shattered.

Eren’s expression softened slightly, but his voice remained distant. “Mikasa… you’ve always been important to me. But I’m doing this for Paradis. For the future.”

“For Paradis?” Mikasa whispered, her voice trembling. “Or for her ?”

Silence stretched between them, heavy and unbearable. Mikasa could see the truth in his eyes—Eren wasn’t the boy she had grown up with, the boy who once cared for her as deeply as she cared for him. He was focused on something far beyond their relationship, far beyond anything she could understand.

“Mikasa,” Eren said softly, his voice almost gentle. “I love Aurora.”

The words hit her like a physical blow, knocking the breath from her lungs. She had already known, but hearing him say it out loud made it real in a way she wasn’t prepared for.

Eren continued, “This isn’t about choosing between you or her. It’s about the path I’ve chosen. I’m going to end this war, no matter the cost. I can’t afford to be distracted.”

Mikasa’s shoulders slumped, her heart shattering into a million pieces. She had fought for so long, for so many reasons. But the one thing she had never been able to fight for—Eren’s love—was lost to her forever.

“I just want you to be safe,” Eren added, his voice distant again. “But I can’t be the person you want me to be.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but Mikasa blinked them back, refusing to let him see her break down. “I don’t care about your plans anymore, Eren,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I just… I just wanted you to care.”

Without another word, Mikasa turned and walked away, leaving Eren behind, locked in his cell—locked in a future she could no longer reach.

As she made her way out of the prison, her heart ached with the weight of unspoken words, unfulfilled hopes, and the realization that the Eren she had loved was gone, replaced by someone she barely recognized. Someone who had chosen a different path, a different life—one that didn’t include her.

…

 Eren watched Mikasa's retreating figure disappear down the dim hallway, a knot tightened in his chest. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, not like this. The weight of her words lingered, hanging in the silence of his cell. Mikasa had always been by his side, loyal to a fault, but the reality was, he couldn’t give her what she wanted. His path had been decided long before, and Aurora… Aurora had come into his life like a sudden, unstoppable force.

He leaned back against the cold stone wall of the cell, staring up at the ceiling. How had things come to this? He never intended for it to go this far, for any of this to happen. The world had grown darker and more complicated, and so had he. His journey had stripped him of the boy he used to be, replacing him with a hardened man willing to burn the world for his people’s freedom. But then Aurora had reappeared, and for the first time in a long while, he had felt… something. Hope, maybe. Warmth. A sense of belonging that had eluded him for so long.

Meeting her again had not been part of his plan. Neither was falling in love with her. Eren closed his eyes, the memories of their time together in the cabin flooding his mind—the late nights, the quiet mornings, her laughter, her smile. He hadn’t expected any of it, but it had happened, and now that he had her, he could never regret it.

The time spent in that cabin had saved him. It had kept him grounded, kept him from plunging completely into the abyss of anger and despair that had consumed so much of his soul. Aurora had given him a reason to hold on to some part of himself, to remember that he wasn’t just a weapon, a tool of destruction. She had reminded him that there was still something worth living for, even amidst the chaos of his plans for the rumbling.

Eren thought back to the days they spent in the cabin, hidden away from the world, where he could forget for a while that he was the devil of Paradis, that he was the key to unleashing unimaginable destruction. In those moments, when he held Aurora close, when they talked about everything and nothing, he was just… Eren. And that was enough.

He hadn’t planned on marrying her. But the thought had come so naturally after everything they had been through together. Their love had been forged in secrecy, in quiet defiance of the world that had tried to break them both. Aurora had seen the darkest parts of him, witnessed his ruthlessness, and yet she had stayed. She had chosen him, despite it all, and in return, he had vowed to love and protect her with everything he had.

Now, as he sat in the cold silence of the cell, Eren felt the weight of the world pressing down on him again. The rumbling was coming. The world would burn. He had made his choice, and there was no going back. But even as he prepared for the unimaginable destruction that was to come, his thoughts kept circling back to Aurora.

She was his anchor, the one person who kept him tethered to whatever humanity he had left. And despite the guilt gnawing at him for what he had done to Mikasa, he couldn’t regret his decision. He was in love with Aurora, and that love was the only thing that kept the darkness from consuming him completely.

Eren opened his eyes, staring at the iron bars of his cell. He had made his choices. He would unleash the rumbling, he would protect Paradis, and he would do everything in his power to keep Aurora safe. That was the one thing he could still hold on to. In a world filled with uncertainty and chaos, his love for her remained unshakable. She was his future, his reason to fight, and the one thing he refused to lose, no matter what the cost.

With a deep breath, Eren leaned his head back against the wall, his mind already shifting to the plans ahead. The time for reflection was over. Soon, the real battle would begin, and when it did, he would make sure that Aurora—his wife, his love—would have the future she deserved. A future free from fear. A future he would carve out for her with his own hands.

He knew Mikasa would never understand that, not fully. But this wasn’t about what she wanted or expected from him. This was about what he had to do. And he would do it—for Aurora, for Paradis, and for the freedom they both deserved.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18

The orphanage was quiet, with the soft sounds of children playing in the distance, as Aurora sat beneath the shade of a large tree on Historia’s farm. The air in Wall Rose was fresh, and the natural beauty of Paradis stretched endlessly before her, the greenery a welcome sight after the months of hiding in Marley. It had been two weeks since she had last seen Eren, and the ache in her heart hadn’t eased. If anything, it had only grown stronger, consuming her thoughts day and night.

Every day without him felt longer than the last. She missed his presence—his reassuring strength, the way his eyes softened when they were alone together, the quiet moments they shared. The worry gnawed at her, making her anxious and restless. She knew Eren was locked away in a cell, preparing for whatever came next, but the uncertainty of it all made her sick with fear. And now, quite literally, it seemed to be making her ill.

Aurora let out a soft sigh as she watched the children gather around her, their eager eyes wide with anticipation for the story she was about to tell them. They were bright, innocent, so full of life. It reminded her of simpler times, of her childhood in Shiganshina before everything had gone so wrong.

Beside her, Historia smiled warmly, encouraging Aurora to begin. The two women had grown close over the past few weeks, something Aurora had never expected. She hadn’t had a female friend in years, especially not someone like Historia—kind, compassionate, understanding. Eren had spoken highly of her, and Aurora could see why. Historia’s presence had been a comfort during these difficult days, and Aurora appreciated her more than she could express.

Taking a deep breath, Aurora began her story, her voice soft but engaging, as the children huddled closer to listen. “Once upon a time, there was a brave warrior who traveled across lands, searching for the secret to bring peace to his people...”

But as the words left her lips, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over her. Her vision blurred, and for a moment, the world around her seemed to spin. Aurora paused, placing a hand on her forehead as she tried to steady herself. The children blinked up at her in confusion, waiting for her to continue, but the dizziness only worsened.

“Aurora?” Historia’s voice was filled with concern. “Are you alright?”

Before Aurora could respond, her knees buckled, and everything went black.

…

When Aurora opened her eyes, she was lying in a soft bed inside the orphanage. The familiar scent of herbs and wood surrounded her, and sunlight streamed in through the window. Her body felt heavy, but the dizzy spell had passed. Historia was sitting by her bedside, her face etched with worry.

“Aurora, thank goodness,” Historia said, her voice filled with relief. “You passed out in front of the children.”

Aurora blinked, her mind still foggy as she tried to sit up. “I... I don’t know what happened. I just felt so lightheaded…”

“You’ve been under a lot of stress,” Historia said gently, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “With everything that’s happened… it’s no wonder.”

Just then, the doctor, an older man with kind eyes, entered the room, carrying a small leather bag. He had already examined her earlier, but it seemed he wanted to check in once more.

“How are you feeling, Mrs. Jaeger?” the doctor asked as he approached the bed.

Aurora’s heart fluttered at the sound of her last name. It still felt strange to hear it, as if it belonged to someone else. But she smiled weakly and nodded. “I’m alright now. Just... tired, I suppose.”

The doctor gave her a reassuring nod. “You seem healthy overall, but it’s clear that the stress has taken a toll on your body. You need rest, both physically and emotionally. I recommend taking it easy for the next few days.”

Aurora bit her lip, the weight of his words settling over her. Rest? How could she rest when Eren was locked away, and their future was so uncertain? How could she find peace when every day brought new fears about what would happen next?

“Thank you, doctor,” Historia said, standing as she escorted him to the door. Once he had left, Historia turned back to Aurora, her expression soft but serious. “You really should listen to him, Aurora. You’ve been through so much. It’s okay to take a break.”

Aurora sighed, her fingers twisting in the bedsheet. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about him. About Eren. I don’t know where he is, how he’s doing. I miss him so much it hurts.”

“I know,” Historia said gently, pulling up a chair to sit beside her. “Eren means a lot to you. But he’s strong, Aurora. You have to trust that he’ll come back to you when the time is right. In the meantime, you need to take care of yourself.”

Aurora looked down, her heart heavy with longing and guilt. “It’s just hard... being here without him. I feel so... alone, even though you’ve all been so kind.”

“You’re not alone,” Historia reassured her, squeezing her hand. “You have me. And the children—they adore you. You’ve brought so much light to their lives, Aurora. Eren would want you to be well, for your sake and for his.”

Aurora nodded, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She could still hear the echo of Eren’s voice in her mind, the way he had held her that last night before the raid. She could still feel his arms around her, his warmth, his love. The memory of him was all she had now, and the distance between them felt unbearable.

“I just hope... he’s alright,” Aurora whispered, more to herself than to Historia. “I hope he’s not suffering.”

Historia’s eyes softened with understanding. “He’s strong, Aurora. He’s fighting for you, for all of us. Just like you’re fighting in your own way.”

Aurora let out a shaky breath, nodding. She knew Historia was right, but the ache in her heart didn’t fade. It lingered, a constant reminder of how much she missed him.

As the sun began to set outside the window, casting golden light across the room, Aurora closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer. Wherever Eren was, whatever he was going through, she hoped he could feel her love, her unwavering belief in him. It was the only thing she had to offer in this moment of uncertainty.

And though she was far from him now, she would wait. She would wait for Eren, for the day when they could be together again, free from the chains of war and fear.

Until then, she would hold onto the memory of their love, their time together in the cabin, and the promise they had made to each other. It was all she had, but it was enough to keep her going.

….

The days following her fainting spell were quiet, but the unease in Aurora’s heart never truly left. Every day without word from Eren gnawed at her, but something else had begun to weigh her down—a physical discomfort that she couldn't quite place. She hadn’t felt right since the fainting incident. Her energy seemed drained, her mind unfocused, and now… this nausea, creeping up on her, making simple tasks feel insurmountable.

She had pushed through it for days, trying to ignore it, but today was different. Aurora had been helping Historia tend to the children when a sudden wave of sickness hit her like a freight train. She barely made it to the wash basin before vomiting, her stomach twisting painfully. The children watched in concern, and Historia was by her side in an instant.

"Aurora, you need to lie down," Historia insisted, her voice full of worry as she helped steady Aurora.

"I’m fine," Aurora whispered, wiping her mouth with trembling hands. "It’s just stress. I’ve been feeling… off."

"That’s more than stress." Historia's brow furrowed. "I'm sending for the doctor again. You shouldn’t be ignoring this."

As Historia hurried away to fetch help, Aurora leaned against the cool stone wall of the small cottage, trying to calm the roiling in her stomach. She was starting to grow frustrated with her body’s sudden rebellion. She thought it was just the anxiety of not seeing Eren, the toll that missing him had taken on her mind and spirit, but now… something felt different.

Once alone, Aurora’s thoughts drifted back to her herbalism training. She was no stranger to illness and symptoms like nausea. She had treated many people in Marley for various ailments, but this… She bit her lip, a thought crossing her mind, a thought so fleeting she almost dismissed it entirely. But it kept tugging at her, like a shadow in the back of her mind that wouldn’t leave.

Could it be?

Aurora's heart quickened. It couldn’t be. Could it? The possibility sent a surge of uncertainty and nervousness through her, and yet she couldn’t shake it. There was only one way to know for sure.

With a deep breath, she hurried back to the small herb station she had set up in Historia's farm, the same place where she had been preparing elixirs and medicines for the past few weeks. Aurora sorted through her herbs and tools, grabbing what she needed to perform the simple test she had learned years ago—a traditional method using herbal mixtures. Her hands trembled as she crushed the herbs, her thoughts racing.

After preparing the tincture, she carefully added it to a small bowl and waited. The room was quiet, her heartbeat loud in her ears. She felt a strange tightness in her chest, the anxiety building as the seconds ticked by. It felt like an eternity before the mixture reacted, the herbs turning a faint shade of blue—a color that made Aurora's breath catch in her throat.

Pregnant .

The word echoed in her mind as she stared at the result. Her hands shook as she held the bowl, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, not like this. And yet, deep down, she had known. She had felt the changes in her body, the subtle signs that something had shifted, but she had been too scared to acknowledge it.

Aurora dropped the bowl onto the table and sank into a nearby chair, her hands covering her mouth as her mind spun. She was pregnant. Pregnant . With Eren’s child. Her breath came in short gasps as the weight of the revelation settled over her. She and Eren had shared such precious moments together, moments of love and passion, but they had never imagined something like this—bringing new life into a world as chaotic as theirs.

Tears welled in her eyes, a mixture of overwhelming joy and deep fear. What would this mean? What would Eren think? How would he react? He was already carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, the responsibility of saving Paradis and bringing peace through the rumbling. And now, there was this—something he had never expected, something she had never expected. A child.

Aurora’s hands moved instinctively to her stomach, her fingers trembling as she rested them gently against the soft fabric of her dress. It was surreal. She was carrying a life inside her, a part of Eren and herself. Despite the chaos, despite the danger they both faced, this tiny spark of life had formed.

But what would happen now? How could she tell him? Eren was locked away, fighting battles both within and outside himself. He was preparing for the rumbling, for the war that was to come. Would this news make things harder for him? Would it change anything? Aurora didn’t know. All she knew was that she loved him with every fiber of her being, and now, that love had created something more.

The door creaked open behind her, and Aurora quickly wiped her eyes, trying to steady herself as Historia stepped in.

"Aurora, the doctor’s on his way," Historia said, her tone filled with concern. She stopped when she noticed the look on Aurora's face, the way her hands clutched her stomach. "Aurora… what’s wrong?"

Aurora looked up, her eyes wide and filled with a mixture of fear and hope. She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper as she said, "Don’t send for the doctor, Historia. I know what’s wrong… or rather, what’s happening."

Historia frowned, stepping closer. "What do you mean? You’ve been unwell for days now. What is it?"

Aurora took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, her hand instinctively moving to rest on her stomach. "I’m pregnant."

The words hung in the air between them, and for a moment, Historia just stared, her mouth slightly open in shock. It took a few long seconds for the reality of Aurora’s words to sink in.

"Pregnant?" Historia whispered, her eyes wide. "Aurora, are you sure?"

Aurora nodded, her gaze dropping to her hands. "I did the test with the herbs… the same method I’ve used to help others. It’s true. I’m carrying Eren’s child."

Historia sank into the chair beside the bed, her mind racing. This changed everything. Eren, already under so much pressure with his plans, now had a child on the way— Aurora was carrying his child. The ramifications of this were enormous. If the military found out, if the higher-ups discovered Aurora’s pregnancy, things could spiral out of control quickly. Eren needed to know, and soon.

Historia reached out, taking Aurora’s hand in hers. "Eren needs to know. This isn’t something you can keep from him, especially not with the world the way it is now."

Aurora nodded, her throat tight with emotion. "I want to tell him, Historia. I want to be the one to tell him, but… I’m scared. And… how? They wouldn’t let me in to see him."

Historia’s brow furrowed as she considered the situation. Levi and the scouts were already suspicious of both her and Aurora. The military brass was on edge after Eren’s actions in Liberio, and security around him had been tightened. It would be difficult enough for her to get in to see Eren, let alone for Aurora, who was under constant scrutiny. Still, Eren had to know, and soon.

"I’ll tell him," Historia said firmly, standing up. "I’ll go to Eren’s cell and tell him what’s going on."

Aurora’s eyes widened with alarm. "No, I want to go with you. I should be the one to tell him…"

But Historia shook her head. "It’s too risky, Aurora. The guards won’t let you in, and if Levi or any of the others find out you’re trying to see Eren, it could make things worse. It’s already dangerous enough for me to visit him. You need to stay here where it’s safe."

Aurora looked down, biting her lip in frustration. She hated the thought of Eren hearing the news from anyone other than her, but she also knew Historia was right. It wasn’t safe. The military was watching everything, and the last thing she wanted was to make the situation worse for Eren.

"Are you sure you’ll be okay?" Aurora asked softly, her eyes filled with worry.

Historia nodded, offering a small, reassuring smile. "I’ve done this before. The guards will let me in. I’ll make sure Eren knows, and I’ll bring back his response as soon as I can. Don’t worry, Aurora. He’ll be thrilled to know you’re carrying his child. He’ll do everything to protect you."

Aurora smiled faintly, her heart swelling with both hope and anxiety. "Thank you, Historia. Please… tell him I love him."

Historia squeezed Aurora’s hand before letting go. "I will. Just rest for now, okay?"

Aurora nodded, watching as Historia quickly left the room, determination set in her expression.

…

The dim glow of torchlight flickered along the narrow stone hallway as Historia made her way down to the underground cell where Eren was being held. The guards had let her pass without question—her authority as queen ensuring she had access—but every step felt heavier than the last. She knew that what she was about to tell Eren would change everything.

The thick iron door creaked open as the guard unlocked it, and Historia stepped inside the small, confined space. Eren was seated on the edge of the cot, his head bowed slightly, his eyes focused on the floor as if lost in thought. His usual stoic expression masked the turmoil raging within him—plans, strategies, contingencies swirling around in his mind, always thinking several steps ahead. But when he saw Historia enter, his attention snapped to her immediately, concern flashing across his face.

“Historia?” Eren’s voice was low but laced with urgency. “Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

His first thought, naturally, was of Aurora. Fear gripped him, and his heart pounded as he stood up from the cot, towering over Historia with a tense, expectant look. He took a step toward her, eyes searching her face for any signs of distress.

Historia raised a hand, her expression calm yet serious. “Aurora’s fine, Eren. She’s safe, I promise.”

Eren visibly relaxed at her words, though the tension in his body didn’t fully dissipate. “Then… why are you here?”

There was no easy way to say this. Historia took a deep breath, stepping closer to him, her voice soft but steady. “I came to tell you something important. Something you need to know.”

Eren’s brow furrowed, his piercing green eyes locked onto hers. “What is it?”

With a small sigh, Historia spoke, her words clear and unwavering. “Aurora’s pregnant, Eren.”

Time seemed to stop in that moment. Eren’s usually composed expression shattered, his eyes widening in pure, unadulterated shock. His mouth parted slightly as if the words hadn’t fully registered yet. 

Pregnant? 

Aurora was pregnant?

His mind raced, trying to piece together the implications, the reality of what Historia had just told him. A flood of emotions surged through him—joy, disbelief, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility. He had always been careful to remain focused, to keep his emotions in check, but this— this —was different. This was life-changing. He was going to be a father.

For a few heartbeats, Eren was utterly speechless. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to process it all. Even though he shouldn’t be so surprised—they hadn’t exactly taken any measures to prevent pregnancy in the few times they had made love—it still hit him like a ton of bricks. He and Aurora were going to have a child.

Eren’s chest tightened, and a small, genuine smile broke through his hardened exterior, a rare glimpse of the man he had once been. “She’s… pregnant?” His voice was barely a whisper, as if saying it out loud would make it more real.

Historia nodded, watching as Eren’s usual stoicism melted away in the face of such monumental news. “Yes. You’re going to be a father, Eren.”

Eren let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his hand gripping the edge of the table as if to steady himself. His thoughts were a whirlwind, but amidst the chaos, there was one clear, shining truth— Aurora was carrying their child. A wave of joy surged through him, overpowering the weight of everything else, if only for a moment.

He was going to be a father.

But as quickly as the joy came, the gravity of the situation set in. Eren’s mind shifted back to his plans, the reality of the war, and the dangerous world they lived in. His child— their child—would be born into this world of conflict and bloodshed, unless he did something to change it. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen. This only solidified his resolve .

“A baby…” Eren muttered to himself, his gaze distant as if already planning his next move. His heart swelled with the knowledge that Aurora was carrying a piece of them, something pure amidst all the destruction he was preparing to unleash. And now more than ever, he knew what he had to do.

Eren straightened, his face hardening again with renewed determination. He turned back to Historia, his voice more urgent. “This changes things. I need to break out of here sooner than planned. I can’t wait. Aurora and our child—” He paused, the word “ child ” still so new and powerful. “They need me. I’m not going to leave them vulnerable.”

Historia nodded, understanding the urgency in his words. “I thought you might say that. I’m ready to help however I can.”

Eren met her gaze, his eyes filled with gratitude but also the fierce determination that had driven him this far. “Tell Floch the plan is moving forward. We can’t afford to wait anymore. Have him gather the Jaegerists—make sure everything is ready. I’m breaking out within the next few days.”

Historia nodded again. “And Aurora? What do you want me to tell her?”

Eren’s expression softened, his thoughts returning to the woman he loved, the woman who had changed his life in ways he could never have predicted. “Tell her I’m coming for her. Tell her to stay safe. And… tell her I love her.”

A small, understanding smile played on Historia’s lips. “She told me to tell you she loves you, too.”

Eren’s heart clenched at the thought of Aurora waiting for him, carrying their child, and he knew, more than ever, that he had to succeed. Not just for Paradis, not just for his friends, but for her. For their future.

Historia watched as Eren’s resolve solidified, the weight of the world once again settling on his shoulders, but this time, he carried it with a new purpose.

“I’ll take care of everything, Eren,” Historia promised. “Aurora will be safe. And I’ll make sure Floch knows the plan.”

Eren nodded, his gaze hardening. “Good. It’s time to end this.”

With that, Historia turned to leave, the heavy door closing behind her as she left Eren to his thoughts. Alone in the cell once more, Eren allowed himself a moment of quiet, his mind filled with the image of Aurora—the woman he loved, the mother of his child.

He wasn’t just fighting for freedom anymore. He was fighting for them . And there was nothing in the world that could stop him now.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19

As the heavy iron door closed behind Historia, the soft echo of her footsteps faded into silence, leaving Eren alone in his cell. The dim light barely reached the corners of the room, casting long shadows on the cold, stone walls. He leaned back against the wall, eyes closed for a moment, letting the weight of the news settle over him.

Aurora is pregnant.

Those words reverberated through his mind like a heartbeat, steady and powerful. His heart swelled with an emotion he hadn’t felt in a long time—a warmth, a joy so profound that it almost hurt. The stoic mask he usually wore, the one that hid his darkest thoughts and deepest fears, cracked for a moment, revealing the tenderness beneath. A small, genuine smile touched his lips as he thought about Aurora, the woman who had stood by his side, the woman who had healed parts of him he didn’t even know were broken.

They were going to be parents. He, Eren Jaeger, the man the world now saw as a devil, would be a father. The thought sent a shiver through him, a combination of excitement and fear. He had faced titans, fought in countless battles, and carried the weight of an entire nation’s future on his shoulders—but this? This was different. This was life —a life that he and Aurora had created together.

His hand clenched into a fist, pressing against his chest as he tried to steady his breathing. The love he felt for Aurora was already overwhelming, but now, knowing she was carrying their child… it was almost too much. He wanted to be with her, to hold her close, to feel her warmth and let her know that everything was going to be okay.

But there was still so much ahead. So much danger. So much blood that needed to be spilled to secure the future he had envisioned. Eren opened his eyes, and the warmth in them began to fade, replaced by the cold, calculating resolve that had driven him this far. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions cloud his judgment—not now. Not when everything was so close.

The rumbling. His plan. It was all falling into place, but now it wasn’t just about freedom for Paradis—it was about his family. His family. Aurora and their unborn child. He couldn’t fail. He wouldn’t fail. He had to survive, not just for Paradis, but for them.

Eren's thoughts drifted back to the cabin, their secret haven for all those months. The memory of Aurora’s laughter, the sight of her smiling as she worked in the garden, the way her eyes lit up whenever they talked about their future. She had been his first friend, his first love, and now, she was the mother of his child. Despite the chaos around them, despite the looming battles and destruction, those moments in the cabin had been the happiest of his life. And now, even in the darkness of his cell, that happiness glowed like a beacon, reminding him of what he was fighting for.

He thought of Aurora, alone in her room at Historia’s estate, probably just as anxious as he was. She was strong, resilient, but he knew this world wasn’t kind to people like her—people who valued life, who wanted peace. He had dragged her into this war, into his fight, and now she was carrying a child into it, too. Guilt gnawed at him, but he pushed it down, refusing to let it take root. Aurora had chosen him, just as he had chosen her. And together, they would survive this.

He had to survive. There was no other option.

Eren’s mind raced, thoughts of their future intertwining with his plans for the present. He needed to ensure Aurora’s safety above all else. She couldn’t remain in the crosshairs of the military or Marley’s forces. Once the rumbling was unleashed, once the world trembled before his power, he would create a world where they could live in peace. A world where Aurora wouldn’t have to be afraid, where their child could grow up free from fear of titans, war, or death.

The thought of their child— their child—strengthened his resolve. Eren’s gaze hardened, his jaw clenched as the enormity of the responsibility sank in. This wasn’t just about vengeance for what Marley had done to his people, or even revenge for what they had done to Aurora’s family. This was about creating a future where his child wouldn’t be hunted like an animal. Where his child wouldn’t grow up with the same hatred and fear that had shaped his own life.

He couldn’t die. Not now. Not when there was so much at stake. His life was no longer just his own—it belonged to Aurora, to their unborn child. He wouldn’t leave them behind, wouldn’t let them fend for themselves in a world as cruel as this one. He had to survive. He had to ensure that the rumbling succeeded, that the world beyond Paradis was flattened, and that the island was free from threats forever.

His hand rested over his abdomen, where the power of the Founding, War Hammer  and Attack Titans pulsed within him. He had the power to change everything, to ensure that his family would never know the horrors he had faced. The memory of Lara Tybur’s crystallized form cracking beneath the Jaw Titan’s fangs flashed through his mind. The war hammer’s power was now his, and with it, he had even more strength to wield against the enemies of Paradis.

But even as the brutal plans solidified in his mind, his heart pulled him back to Aurora. He thought of the way her hair glowed in the moonlight, the way she’d laugh softly when he would hold her close, the way her eyes sparkled whenever they spoke of their future together. Soon, he promised himself. Soon, they would be together again, and nothing would stand in their way.

He couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms again, to whisper in her ear how much he loved her, how much he loved the life they were building together. For all the pain and suffering they had both endured, there was still hope. There was still a future worth fighting for.

Eren closed his eyes for a moment, picturing Aurora’s face, imagining the child she carried— their child. He smiled faintly, a rare glimmer of hope breaking through the steel resolve. He was going to be a father, and that changed everything.

He wasn’t just fighting for freedom anymore. He was fighting for them.

…

Historia returned to the farm later that day, the sun casting long shadows over the golden fields as she approached the modest farmhouse where Aurora had been staying. Aurora had been sitting on the porch, her hands resting gently on her stomach, deep in thought. The past few weeks had been overwhelming—Eren’s absence weighed heavily on her, and now, with the knowledge of her pregnancy, she was consumed by both excitement and anxiety. She wanted nothing more than for Eren to be by her side, especially now that they were starting a family together.

As Historia approached, Aurora stood up, her heart quickening as she read the serious expression on Historia’s face.

“Did you see him?” Aurora asked, her voice soft but laced with concern. “Is he okay?”

Historia nodded, her usual calm demeanor reassuring. “He’s fine, Aurora. I told him about the baby.”

Aurora’s breath hitched, her hand instinctively covering her stomach. “What… what did he say?”

A small smile crossed Historia’s lips as she walked up the steps and joined Aurora on the porch. “He was shocked, but… happy. I’ve never seen him so happy. He told me to tell you that he loves you and that he’s coming for you. He’s going to break out of jail soon, and he’s not going to let anything happen to you or the baby.”

Aurora exhaled a sigh of relief, tears welling up in her eyes. She had been so afraid that Eren wouldn’t return in time, that something terrible might happen to him before he even knew about their child. But hearing that he was as excited and determined as she was filled her with hope.

“Thank you, Historia,” Aurora whispered, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill. “I’m so glad he knows.”

Historia placed a comforting hand on Aurora’s shoulder. “You’re strong, Aurora. And you’re not alone in this. Eren will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. And so will I.”

Aurora nodded, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for Historia. She didn’t know what she would’ve done without her support during these trying times.

But Historia’s expression grew more serious as she turned to look out over the fields. “There’s something else. Eren told me the plan has to move forward faster now. Because of the pregnancy.”

Aurora’s heart skipped a beat. She had suspected that her condition would complicate things, but now it seemed like the stakes had been raised even higher.

“Faster? What does that mean?” Aurora asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Historia turned back to her, her eyes filled with resolve. “It means that we don’t have time to wait. Eren is going to break out of jail in just two weeks. He’s going to initiate the coup d’état with the Jaegerists.”

At that moment, Historia called for one of her aides, sending him off to retrieve Floch discreetly. Aurora watched as the aide ran toward the nearby building.

“What’s going to happen?” Aurora asked, worry creeping into her voice.

“Floch has been gathering supporters from all branches of the military,” Historia explained. “Jaegerists, they call themselves. They’re loyal to Eren and his vision for Paradis. We’re going to merge these supporters into a single, powerful branch of the military—one that will follow Eren’s orders, no matter what.”

Aurora felt a cold chill run down her spine. She understood why Eren was doing this—why he felt he had no choice but to take control of Paradis’s military. But the idea of a coup, of overthrowing the current regime, made her stomach twist in knots. This wasn’t just a political move—this was war, and her husband was at the center of it.

Just then, Floch arrived, a look of surprise on his face as he approached Historia and Aurora. He had been expecting orders, but nothing of this magnitude.

“You sent for me, Your Majesty?” Floch said, bowing his head slightly in respect.

Historia wasted no time. “Floch, the plan is moving faster than anticipated. Eren is breaking out of jail in the next two weeks. We need to round up all the Jaegerists from across the branches of the military. The coup d’état is happening soon.”

Floch’s eyes widened in shock. “Wait, what? Already? I thought we were waiting for the right moment—”

“There is no more time to wait,” Historia interrupted firmly. “Aurora is pregnant. Eren can’t afford to stay locked up any longer. We need to move now.”

Floch’s mouth opened in stunned silence, his eyes flickering between Aurora and Historia. He hadn’t expected this —a pregnancy, a child… This changed everything. If Aurora was pregnant, then Eren had even more reason to take control of Paradis. It wasn’t just about saving the island anymore. It was about ensuring the safety of his family.

“Pregnant…” Floch muttered, running a hand through his hair as he processed the information. “Okay. Okay, this changes things. We’ll need to accelerate everything. I’ll get in contact with the Jaegerists. We’ll be ready.”

Historia nodded, satisfied with Floch’s determination. “Good. When the time comes, Eren will lead the Jaegerists as the new Commander of this branch. Once he’s out of jail, we’ll make sure the people see him as their leader—their only hope for survival.”

Floch’s eyes gleamed with fierce loyalty. “I’ll make sure everything’s in place. The old military brass won’t know what hit them.”

As Floch turned to leave, Historia called after him. “Make sure to keep this discreet. We can’t afford any mistakes.”

Floch nodded before turning towards the exit, already planning how to mobilize the Jaegerists. Aurora watched him go, her heart pounding in her chest. The reality of the situation was sinking in—everything was happening so fast. Soon, Eren would be free, but the cost of that freedom weighed heavily on her mind.

Historia placed a reassuring hand on Aurora’s arm. “Eren will be back with you soon. And when he is, he’ll make sure that nothing happens to you or your child.”

Aurora nodded, her hand instinctively resting on her stomach. She hoped that Historia’s words would be enough to calm her nerves, but the storm brewing around them was impossible to ignore.

Floch hesitated at the door, turning back to face both women with a grim expression. His usual cocky confidence was replaced by a hard, calculating look—one that spoke to the seriousness of the situation. “You should know… the brass doesn’t trust me. Not me, not you, Your Majesty, and definitely not you, Mrs. Jaeger,” he said, looking at Aurora. “And they’re not just suspicious. They’re making plans, real ones. They want to make sure they have control over Eren.”

Historia’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, plans?”

Floch lowered his voice, glancing around even though they were already in the privacy of Historia’s quarters. “The premier and some of the top brass… they’re looking for someone they can trust to inherit Eren’s titan abilities. They want to feed Eren to someone else. Someone they think they can control.”

The room seemed to go completely silent, and Aurora felt the blood drain from her face. Her heart pounded, drowning out everything around her. “They want to… kill him?” she whispered, barely able to get the words out. The idea sent a shock of fear through her so powerful that her entire body felt paralyzed.

Historia clenched her fists, her jaw tightening as she considered the implications. “We knew they were wary of him, but… I didn’t think they’d go so far as to kill him,” she said, voice trembling with contained rage. “They’re truly afraid of him.”

Floch nodded, his gaze shifting between them. “They don’t trust Eren or his plans. They think he’s too dangerous, especially after what happened in Liberio. They’re already mobilizing forces—slowly, quietly—but the Premier isn’t going to wait around. He’s making moves.”

Aurora’s mind was a whirlwind of dread and desperation. She gripped her hands together, trembling as she tried to process the weight of what Floch had just said. “But… but Eren can handle himself, right? He’d never let them do that to him… he wouldn’t…”

Floch frowned, looking uncertain. “I don’t know. Eren is strong, but the brass has resources, and they’ll strike when he’s vulnerable. They’ll try to trap him, catch him off guard. They won’t make this easy.”

Aurora felt her heartbeat quicken, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as fear clawed at her throat. She could already see it in her mind—a horrible vision of Eren being overwhelmed, trapped, unable to fight back. Her worst nightmare . She couldn’t lose him; she’d rather die herself than see him taken away. And if they went through with this plan, if they actually killed him…

“We need to warn him,” Aurora said, her voice almost frantic. “We need to warn him now. We can’t just wait around while they plot against him. Please, Historia. He needs to know.”

Historia placed a hand on Aurora’s shoulder, trying to calm her down. “I understand, Aurora. But you need to stay calm. We can’t rush into this. The more suspicious we act, the more they’ll watch us. Going to his cell now isn’t an option; there are too many eyes on us.”

But Aurora was barely listening. Her mind was racing, filled with terrible images and the gnawing thought of Eren in danger, alone and unaware of what was happening. She shook her head, her hands balling into fists. “I don’t care about the risks,” she said, her voice rising as panic took hold. “I can’t lose him, Historia. I can’t. I’ll… I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him safe.”

The intensity of her words hung heavily in the air, and even Floch looked slightly taken aback by the fierce determination in her voice. But Historia didn’t flinch. She looked at Aurora with steady, understanding eyes.

“Listen, Aurora,” Historia said softly, her tone firm yet gentle. “I know you’d do anything to protect him. But we need to think carefully about this. If we act recklessly, we’ll only put Eren in more danger. If we’re going to help him, we need to do it the right way, with the right strategy.”

Floch nodded, his expression serious. “She’s right. If we try to act out of desperation, they’ll catch onto us. Right now, our best weapon is patience. Let them think they have control. When Eren breaks out, we’ll be ready.”

Aurora forced herself to take a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She knew they were right, that acting out of panic would only make things worse. But the fear of losing Eren, the love of her life, was overwhelming. She closed her eyes, focusing on his face, on the promise he’d made to her. He’d told her he would protect her and their child. He’d told her to trust him. She had to believe in that promise, as hard as it was in this moment.

“Alright,” Aurora whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’ll wait. But please… let’s make sure he knows, somehow. I don’t want him to be blindsided.”

Historia nodded, squeezing Aurora’s hand reassuringly. “We’ll make sure he knows. And when the time comes, he’ll be ready. We’ll all be ready.”

Floch stepped back, nodding with determination. “I’ll do my part. We’re rallying the Jaegerists across the branches as we speak. By the time Eren breaks out, we’ll have a force loyal to him, a force that won’t hesitate to defend him against anyone who tries to take him down.”

Aurora watched Floch leave, her heart still heavy with worry but tempered by a newfound sense of determination. She wasn’t powerless. She had Historia, she had Floch, and she had Eren’s promise. No matter what the military tried, no matter how desperate they became, she would stand by Eren’s side. They’d face whatever came together, and she’d protect their child with every ounce of strength she had.

As the door closed, Historia gently pulled Aurora into an embrace, offering a quiet comfort that words couldn’t convey. And though fear lingered, Aurora knew one thing for certain—she would fight with everything in her to protect the family she and Eren were building, no matter the cost.

…

Aurora barely slept through the night, her mind racing with thoughts of Eren in danger. Every time she closed her eyes, her imagination filled with scenarios of betrayal and despair. She couldn’t shake the image of her husband surrounded by soldiers, powerless to defend himself, taken away before he had the chance to protect her or their unborn child. She could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears as she lay in bed, gripping the sheets tightly, frustration and fear twisting her stomach into knots.

By dawn, she had made her decision.

Aurora dressed quickly, slipping her herbalism bag over her shoulder, and sought out Floch, who was meeting with some of the Jaegerists in a nearby room. She pulled him aside, her voice low but firm, a determination in her eyes that brooked no argument.

“Floch, I need you to take me to the Premier,” she said, clutching the strap of her bag. “Today. Right now.”

Floch looked at her in surprise, glancing around the room to make sure no one else could hear. “Aurora, that’s… risky. What are you planning on doing?”

“I need to speak with him,” she insisted, her tone unyielding. “He’s the one threatening Eren’s life, and I can’t just stand by and do nothing.”

Floch hesitated, glancing at her bag. He could tell there was something she wasn’t saying, something hidden in the depths of her eyes that made him wary. But he also knew the depths of her loyalty to Eren. If she’d made up her mind, there was little he could do to dissuade her.

After a long pause, he sighed. “Fine. I’ll take you. But be careful, Aurora. You know how sharp the premier is.”

Aurora nodded, a fierce light in her eyes. “I will. Thank you, Floch.”

They made their way through the headquarters, and Aurora steeled herself as they approached the premier’s office. She clutched her bag tighter, her heart racing not from fear but from the weight of her plan. She knew what she was about to do, and she accepted it with a cold resolve. If it meant Eren would be safe, she would do anything.

When they arrived, Floch nodded to the guards stationed outside, and they stepped aside, allowing her entry. She took a steadying breath as she walked into the premier’s office, her face composed, eyes soft and pleading.

Premier Dhalis Zachary looked up from his desk, his gaze sharpening as he noticed who had entered. “Mrs. Jaeger,” he said, his voice both surprised and curious. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Aurora lowered her eyes, carefully adopting an expression of vulnerability and quiet desperation. “Premier Zachary,” she began softly, her voice trembling just enough to convey her supposed worry. “I… I’ve come to beg for Eren’s life. Please . He may have acted recklessly, but he did it for the sake of Paradis. He just… he needs a chance to explain himself.”

The Premier regarded her coolly, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk as he considered her words. “Your husband’s actions have put us all at risk,” he said bluntly. “He disregarded the chain of command and brought the wrath of the world down upon us. Why should I trust his intentions? Or yours, for that matter?”

Aurora felt her pulse quicken, but she maintained her composure. “Eren is only trying to protect us. He may have been… misguided, but his heart is in the right place.” She took a step closer, glancing briefly at the cup of tea sitting on the desk beside him. “Please, sir. He’s not a threat to you, to Paradis. All he wants is to make sure we’re safe.”

The premier raised an eyebrow, his gaze narrowing as he studied her. “And you’re certain of this? That Eren isn’t planning something even more dangerous?”

Aurora nodded earnestly, keeping her tone soft and innocent. “Yes. He just… he wanted to make a difference, to protect us. And if you give him a chance, he can still help all of us.”

She watched as his gaze softened slightly, though the guarded look never left his eyes. Dhalis Zachary wasn’t a man who trusted easily, especially when it came to Eren and those close to him. But as he reached for his cup of tea, Aurora felt a spark of hope flicker in her chest.

Her hand slipped subtly into her bag, fingers brushing against the elixir she’d prepared. 

Similar to the one she created when she accidentally killed the bird at the cabin.

She waited, timing her movements carefully, and when his attention was briefly diverted, she slid her hand forward, letting a few drops of the liquid trickle into his tea.

It was a delicate maneuver, one she’d practiced in her mind for hours before daring to try it. The liquid disappeared instantly, mixing seamlessly with the tea, and she pulled her hand back into her bag, her face never betraying the darkness of her intent.

Premier Zachary took a sip of his tea, and Aurora forced herself to keep her gaze steady, even as she felt a surge of satisfaction. The poison would take three days, just enough time to throw off any suspicion. And once he was gone, the immediate threat to Eren would be lifted.

“Very well, Mrs. Jaeger,” he said finally, setting his cup down with a faint clink. “I will take your words into consideration. But understand this—Eren’s fate is still uncertain. His actions have put us all in jeopardy, and it may take more than words to restore trust.”

Aurora nodded, her expression grateful, though inside, her heart was pounding with triumph. “Thank you, sir. I only ask that you… give him a chance.”

With a final nod, she turned and left the room, her steps steady, her face calm. But inside, she felt a strange mixture of relief, guilt and exhilaration. She had done it. She had protected Eren in the only way she knew how, using the skills she’d honed in the shadows. This is the second time Aurora has taken a life, and both times have been to save Eren. But even as she felt the guilt of taking a human life, she couldn’t find herself regretting her choice. 

As she walked away from the Premier’s office, Floch fell in beside her, giving her a questioning look. “Well?”

“He listened,” Aurora replied, a faint, unreadable smile on her lips. “And that’s all I needed.”

For now, the fate of Paradis, and the safety of her family, lay in the hands of a slow, deadly poison. And for the first time in days, she felt a glimmer of hope.

As they walked back, Floch’s gaze flicked between Aurora’s face and the path ahead. Her expression held a kind of quiet satisfaction, a calm that seemed out of place considering the tense conversation they’d just left behind. He’d heard the Premier’s dismissive response, that Eren’s fate was uncertain, yet here she was, radiating an air of accomplishment.

After a few minutes of silence, Floch’s curiosity got the better of him. “What exactly did you and the Premier talk about?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual. He knew better than to press too directly, especially when dealing with someone who had Eren’s trust, but his suspicions lingered all the same.

Aurora turned to him, her expression softening into something innocuous. “I simply told him that Eren isn’t a threat to him or Paradis,” she replied, her voice steady and earnest. “I asked him to consider Eren’s actions from the perspective of someone who wants to protect this island.”

Floch arched a brow, skepticism evident in his gaze. “And you think that’s enough to sway someone like Zachary?” He studied her carefully, trying to gauge if there was more to her story. “He’s not the type to be easily convinced. He’s not even one to trust the scouts fully. Why would he trust Eren, after everything?”

Aurora gave a gentle shrug, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t expect him to trust Eren completely. But he is a reasonable man. I believe he’ll think about what I said.” Her tone was calm, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes that made Floch pause. She had a subtle confidence, one that suggested she was leaving out key details.

Floch’s gaze narrowed, and he stopped walking, turning to face her fully. “You seem awfully confident for someone who just pleaded for her husband’s life,” he observed, his voice edged with suspicion. “And I get the feeling you’re not telling me everything.”

Aurora met his gaze directly, unblinking. “What would you like to hear?” she asked, her tone soft yet unwavering. “That I begged him on my knees? That I pleaded until my voice broke?” She smiled slightly, though there was no warmth in it. “Eren is my husband, Floch. I’m going to do everything in my power to keep him safe, just as he would do for me. But I also know there’s only so much I can say without overstepping my place.”

Floch crossed his arms, frowning. Despite his loyalty to Eren, he felt an innate wariness toward this woman. He’d been careful around her since the moment he’d learned of her existence. Eren Jaeger was a man who walked the line between savior and monster, driven by a vision that many struggled to comprehend. And this woman… there had to be something darker in her to love a man like Eren.

“Eren’s… a certain kind of person,” Floch murmured, his gaze calculating as he searched her face. “He’s willing to do whatever it takes. The fact that you’re willing to stand by him… well, it says a lot about you.”

Aurora didn’t flinch, meeting his eyes with an unyielding stare. “I know exactly who my husband is,” she replied calmly. “I’m under no illusions about what he’s capable of. But I understand his intentions, and I trust him. If that makes me a devil too, then so be it.”

Floch’s expression shifted, his lips pressing into a thin line as he considered her words. He had his reservations, certainly, but there was something undeniably unsettling in the way she spoke—an unbreakable resolve that mirrored Eren’s own.

“Alright, Mrs. Jaeger,” he said finally, his tone guarded. “I’ll trust that you know what you’re doing. But remember, everyone’s watching. You, Historia, even myself. Levi and the brass… they’re not stupid.”

Aurora allowed a faint smile, as if she understood more than she let on. “I appreciate your concern, Floch. But Eren and I… we understand what we’re dealing with.” She looked back in the direction of the premier’s office, her gaze hardening slightly. “And if it comes down to it, I’ll do what’s necessary.”

Floch nodded, though his wariness hadn’t entirely dissipated. As they continued down the hall, he kept his guard up, unable to shake the feeling that Aurora Jaeger was far more than she appeared.

Chapter Text

Chapter 20

Three days later, Levi, Hange, Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Connie, and Sasha were preparing themselves in grim silence, each harboring an air of dread as they headed to meet the Premier. The impending meeting would discuss Eren’s fate, and though they all had mixed feelings, they knew the Premier would likely choose the drastic option: transferring Eren’s powers to someone else.

Mikasa was already steeling herself, jaw clenched tightly, as Armin adjusted his uniform with shaking hands. They both planned on pleading for Eren one last time, hoping to sway the Premier’s decision. But before they could even leave the room, a young scout came rushing in, his face pale as he stumbled into the meeting room.

“The Premier… he’s dead,” the scout announced, his voice barely more than a whisper. His words hit the room like a punch, sending a wave of disbelief through everyone.

“What?” Levi’s sharp voice cut through the stunned silence as he fixed the scout with an intense gaze. “What the hell are you talking about?”

The scout swallowed, his hands trembling. “He was… they found him dead. Just now, face down at his desk. They’re investigating, but the cause is unknown.”

A heavy silence settled over them, each face reflecting various shades of shock and suspicion. Levi clenched his fists, his brow furrowing deeply. “We need answers. Now.” His voice was a barely-contained growl.

As a unit, they quickly made their way to the Premier’s office. The normally busy hallways of headquarters felt eerily silent, as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting to understand what had just occurred. When they reached the Premier’s office, they found a cluster of MPs gathered outside, murmuring in confusion. A doctor was just pulling a white sheet over the Premier’s body, lying slumped across his desk.

The scouts gathered around, each one silent as they took in the scene. Beneath the sheet, the Premier’s hands lay in plain view, the skin mottled with an unnatural purple hue. Veins ran like dark rivers along his forearms, bulging and discolored. Hange knelt closer, inspecting the strange coloration with narrowed eyes.

“What could’ve done this?” Jean muttered, looking almost sickened by the sight.

The doctor shook his head, still examining the body with a troubled expression. “I’ve never seen anything like it. There are no visible wounds, no signs of poisoning that we’re familiar with. He looked perfectly fine yesterday,” the doctor replied, a hint of frustration lacing his tone. “We’re running tests, but I can’t say what caused this.”

“Perfectly fine yesterday…” Levi echoed, his eyes narrowing as his mind raced. “Who was in contact with him over the last few days?”

The doctor looked up, clearly uncomfortable with the line of questioning. “That’s… that’s still being determined. He had several meetings, including with some scout members and government officials, but we’ll need to go through the records.”

Levi’s eyes flickered with an intensity that made everyone tense. “I want a full report. Everyone he spoke with, every interaction he had,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Mikasa and Armin exchanged uneasy glances. It was too convenient, too sudden, especially with the timing. The death of the Premier, just as they were set to determine Eren’s fate… it felt too orchestrated.

Sasha whispered under her breath, “Do you think… someone did this to protect Eren?”

“Someone?” Connie echoed, casting a wary look around the room. “You think Eren’s got someone pulling strings in the government?”

“Who else would benefit from the Premier dying now?” Hange said, her brow furrowed as she studied the scene. “Whoever wanted Eren’s powers transferred would’ve needed the Premier’s authority. Now that he’s dead, any decisions about Eren are stalled.”

Jean crossed his arms, his voice thick with frustration. “So what does that mean? Do we just sit around while Eren goes rogue?”

“No,” Levi said sharply, his gaze fixed on the doctor and the MPs who were still at a loss. “We find out what happened here, and we don’t let our guard down.”

Armin stepped closer, his face pale but resolved. “If someone killed the Premier… they might go after anyone else who tries to control Eren. It means he’s got someone working with him.”

The words lingered uncomfortably in the air. Each of them could think of only a handful of people close enough to Eren who is capable of something like this. And each of them knew that whoever was behind it wouldn’t stop until Eren was free.

Mikasa’s face hardened, her voice almost pleading as she looked at Levi. “You know Eren wouldn’t have done this. He doesn’t kill people like this.”

Levi met her gaze, a complicated look passing over his features. “Mikasa, Eren’s changed. We don’t know how far he’s willing to go anymore.”

Jean scoffed, frustration boiling over. “This is insane. If Eren’s got people killing for him to keep his powers, then we’re dealing with something worse than we thought. How many more people are going to die before he’s stopped?”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Hange said, her tone calm but serious. “We don’t know who’s responsible, and until we do, we can’t assume it’s directly linked to Eren.”

“Then who?” Jean demanded. “Who else benefits from this?”

Levi’s gaze turned distant, as if he were piecing together a puzzle in his mind. “Someone with a vested interest in keeping Eren in power. Someone who believes in his vision, no matter the cost.”

Mikasa clenched her fists. “So you think it’s one of us? Someone in the Scouts?”

Levi shook his head. “Not just the Scouts. This could go deeper. And we need to find out just how deep.”

The room fell silent as Levi’s words settled over them, each of them realizing just how dangerous the situation had become. With the Premier dead, the military in chaos, and Eren potentially on the loose, they were facing a threat unlike anything they’d encountered before.

As Hange continued her careful examination of the Premier’s arms with the doctor, she pointed to the unnatural purple veins running along his skin. Her eyes narrowed as she leaned closer. “This discoloration… I think it could be the result of some kind of poison,” she murmured thoughtfully.

The doctor nodded slowly, studying the same marks with a deep frown. “If it is poison, it’s unlike any we’re familiar with. The reaction is too localized, and these veins… this isn’t a typical symptom.”

They began to scan the room, checking every object that the Premier might have touched or consumed in the last few hours. Levi, however, was barely paying attention. His mind was racing, and he couldn’t shake a suspicion that was beginning to settle heavily in his chest.

Poison . 

He had seen enough things in his life to know it was often a preferred weapon of those who didn’t want a direct confrontation — calculated, quiet, and effective. And when he thought of those traits, his mind inevitably circled back to someone specific: Aurora Jaeger . Only days before, she had apparently been on edge, insisting on a meeting with the Premier, supposedly to plead for her husband’s life.

He gritted his teeth. That meeting had seemed unusual from the start, and her full background was still shrouded in mystery. She was no soldier, but she knew her way around herbs and concoctions, and she’d stayed with Eren, hiding in a secluded cabin in Marley for seven months. Anything could’ve happened during that time — she could have easily learned skills no one knew about.

“Levi!” Hange’s voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back into the room. She held up a delicate porcelain cup, the remains of tea swirling in its base. “There are trace substances in here,” she said. “They’re faint, but with the right tools, I think we can identify them. It looks like he drank this right before he died.”

The doctor inspected the cup, nodding in agreement. “I’ll send it to the lab for a full analysis, but yes… this could very well be the source.”

Levi’s gaze darkened as he processed the information, and he clenched his fists tightly. Poison in the tea… it was all beginning to align. Just then, one of the MPs hurried into the room, a small stack of documents in hand.

“Captain Levi,” the MP addressed him. “These are the visitor records for the Premier’s office over the past week.”

Levi snatched the stack, flipping through it with a quick, practiced eye. He scanned over the familiar names of military officials and advisors, each entry further fueling his suspicions. And then, there it was — three days ago, Aurora Jaeger’s name was listed, accompanied by none other than Floch Forster.

“So she really did come here…” Levi muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing.

“What are you thinking, Levi?” Hange asked, catching the shift in his expression.

Levi set his jaw. “Aurora visited the Premier three days ago. She wasn’t here as a scout or a military officer, but as Eren’s wife, pleading for his life. Now, three days later, the Premier’s dead, likely poisoned by her.”

Hange’s eyes widened slightly. “You think Aurora poisoned him?”

Levi shook his head, his gaze sharp and unyielding. “I think it’s a strong possibility. She’s been living with Eren for months, learning god-knows-what while hiding out with him. She’s not just some innocent civilian.”

The doctor interjected cautiously, “Poisoned or not, we don’t have definitive proof of any specific culprit. It could be a coincidence—”

“Coincidence or not, it’s damn suspicious,” Levi snapped, not taking his eyes off the record. “She’s an expert in herbalism. If anyone could get their hands on something potent and undetectable, it’d be her. And Eren’s not stupid. He’d know exactly who to use to ensure this plan went through.”

Hange looked thoughtful, the wheels turning in her mind. “If Aurora did poison the Premier, it means she’s deeper into this plan with Eren than we thought. But we need more than just a hunch, Levi. We need solid evidence.”

Levi exhaled sharply, his mind already working on a plan. “Then we get the evidence. I want Aurora brought in for questioning,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for debate.

“But Captain,” Armin interjected, his voice pleading. “What if she’s innocent? If Eren loves her, maybe she just wanted to protect him… maybe she didn’t do it.”

Levi shot him a steely look. “And if she did? We’re dealing with a man who is willing to kill innocent civilians and children to get what he wants, Armin. If she’s involved, she’s a danger to all of us. We can’t ignore this.”

Mikasa looked down, torn between her loyalty to Eren and the growing suspicion that had begun gnawing at her since Aurora’s arrival. She didn’t want to believe it, but even she couldn’t ignore the strange feeling in her gut.

Jean crossed his arms, his expression grim. “We’re being naive if we assume she’s innocent just because Eren cares for her. We barely know this woman, and the timing… it’s too perfect. We can’t let personal feelings get in the way.”

Hange nodded reluctantly. “Let’s proceed with caution, but if there’s even a chance she’s involved, we need answers. I’ll keep analyzing the traces in the tea and see if I can identify the substance.”

Levi nodded, turning to the others. “Jean, Connie, Sasha — find Aurora and Floch. Bring them in. We’ll question them separately and see if their stories line up. No more playing nice.”

The scouts dispersed, grim determination in their expressions as they prepared to confront the web of secrets unraveling around them. Levi watched them go, his mind set. Whoever was responsible for the Premier’s death — whether Aurora or someone else — he’d find out the truth. No matter what it took.

…

Back at Historia’s farm, Floch’s face turned pale as he processed the news. His gaze flicked over to Historia, whose brow was furrowed in confusion and shock. “The Premier… murdered? It can’t be one of us, can it?” she whispered, her voice barely steady.

Floch’s mind raced, replaying every detail from three days ago. Aurora’s expression as they left the Premier’s office resurfaced in his memory — the brief, satisfied smile she hadn’t been able to conceal. He didn’t want to think much of it then, but now the pieces were coming together in a way he couldn’t ignore.

He clenched his fists, struggling to keep his tone level. “No, it… it wasn’t one of the Jaegerists. I think I know who might’ve done it.”

Historia’s eyes widened. “What are you saying, Floch?”

Floch took a steadying breath, glancing away as he gathered his thoughts. “Remember, when I took Aurora to see the Premier? She was insistent on meeting him, supposedly to ‘plead for Eren’s life.’ But what if that was just an excuse? What if she—?”

“No.” Historia shook her head, disbelief flashing across her face. “Aurora wouldn’t… She loves Eren, yes, but murder? Poison? Someone as gentle as her isn’t capable of that .”

Floch looked at her solemnly. “Are you so sure about that? Think about it. She’s carrying Eren’s child — a child she wants to protect . And she’s not naive, Historia. She’s lived in Marley, she survived as a slave… she’s not someone to underestimate. I think she did it, for Eren.”

Their conversation was interrupted as Historia looked up to see Aurora entering the room, her face drawn and tired. Her steps were heavy, her hand resting protectively on her abdomen. She looked between Floch and Historia, sensing the tension in the air.

“Aurora,” Historia started gently, but there was a firmness behind her gaze. “We just heard about the Premier’s death. It seems… they suspect it was murder.”

Aurora stiffened but quickly masked her reaction, her hand gripping the edge of her shawl. “I… I don’t know anything about that,” she said, voice steady but betraying a flicker of nervousness.

Floch stepped forward, narrowing his eyes. “Really? Because three days ago, you seemed pretty content after meeting with him.”

Aurora’s face flushed. “I was trying to secure Eren’s safety. I did what I had to do. But that doesn’t mean I… I didn’t kill him.”

“Didn’t you?” Floch’s tone was accusatory, and Historia’s gaze became slightly harder as she studied Aurora.

The tension built, and Aurora’s frustration began to spill over. “So, what if I did?” she snapped, her voice breaking slightly. “You don’t understand what it’s like… to be watched constantly, to know that they want Eren dead, to feel like any second, they’ll take him from me!”

The room was silent as her words hung in the air, each one heavier than the last.

Historia took a step forward, her voice soft but clear. “Aurora… you didn’t need to go to such extremes. If there was something you needed, you could have trusted me. You could’ve asked for help.”

Aurora’s eyes flashed, her hands curling into fists as she struggled to keep her composure. “I didn’t know what else to do. He’s all I have, and they want to kill him! What was I supposed to do? Just sit and wait for them to take him away?”

Floch exchanged a look with Historia, his suspicions confirmed but laced with an edge of reluctant understanding. They could see the desperation in her eyes, the fear that had driven her actions, and it stirred a mix of anger and sympathy.

Historia placed a gentle hand on Aurora’s shoulder. “Listen to me. Eren is going to break out soon. You don’t have to go through this alone. We’re on the same side here.”

Aurora bit her lip, her face softened by a glimmer of hope. She whispered, barely holding back tears, “I just want to see him. I need to see him.”

Floch shook his head slightly. “That’s not possible right now. There are too many eyes on us. You know that.”

Historia took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “We’ll get you to Eren when it’s safe. But until then, you need to keep calm, Aurora. We’re close to executing our plan, and if anything goes wrong now…”

Aurora took a shaky breath, nodding despite the turmoil raging inside her. “I understand… I’ll do whatever it takes. Just… please, let him know I’m here for him, that I love him.”

Historia gave her a sympathetic smile. “He knows. Believe me, he knows.”

…

In the dim solitude of his cell, Eren found himself lost in thoughts of Aurora and their unborn child. His mind wandered to daydreams, despite all that weighed on his shoulders. Would they have a boy or a girl? He imagined a child with his steel determination and Aurora’s gentle, warm eyes. He let himself drift further into the fantasy, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he pictured himself holding their child, teaching them, protecting them…

The sound of footsteps shattered his thoughts. Eren’s eyes snapped back to reality, hardening as he watched Mikasa and Armin approach the cell door, their expressions conflicted.

“Eren,” Mikasa started, her voice tinged with worry and frustration. She stepped closer, gripping the bars of his cell, her eyes pleading. “We need answers. Did you… did you order the Premier’s murder?”

Eren’s face froze, his confusion evident. “What? The Premier… murdered?”

“Yes,” Armin said, his gaze sharper and more critical than usual. “He was found dead, poisoned. And—” Armin hesitated, glancing at Mikasa before continuing, “They’re accusing Aurora, Eren. The military is looking for her, wanting to bring her in for questioning.”

Eren’s shock turned into a simmering anger that sparked in his eyes. Aurora? Accused of murder? His gentle, innocent Aurora, who had been through so much, was now being hunted down by the same military he’d given so much for? His mind reeled at the absurdity — but then, flashes of that day in Marley flickered in his memory. He recalled how Aurora had saved his life by taking that soldier’s life, plunging the poisoned syringe into his neck without a second’s hesitation.

Eren swallowed hard, his heart racing as he remembered the fire in her eyes that day. He had fallen even deeper in love with her in that moment, realizing the depth of her resolve and the intensity of her love. She would do anything for him. And maybe… just maybe… she’d done this too, for their future together.

Armin saw the change in Eren’s expression and took a step back. “Eren, listen to us! This can’t go on. The military is going to treat her as an enemy. If she runs, it only makes her look more guilty.”

But Eren wasn’t listening. He stood up, his face twisted with a fierce determination that sent chills down both Armin and Mikasa’s spines. “They’re after her ?” His voice was low, each word heavy with barely contained fury. “They’re after my wife? Because I’ll tell you this: I’ll destroy anyone who tries to hurt her.”

“Eren, please!” Mikasa’s voice wavered, her hand reaching out to him. “If you fight back, if you try to resist… they’ll never let her go. We need to handle this carefully. We’re here to help, just let us—”

But before she could finish, a blinding light filled the cell as Eren suddenly bit into his hand and his titan power surged within him. Mikasa and Armin stumbled back, shielding their eyes from the flash. The ground beneath them trembled as Eren transformed, his cell collapsing around him as his towering form took shape. Bones cracked and sinews stretched as his Titan solidified, and when their vision cleared, they saw Eren standing, his fury manifest in his sheer size and power.

Mikasa gasped, taking a step back. “Eren, stop! You’ll bring the entire building down on us!”

But Eren wasn’t hearing her. His determination had crystallized into one unbreakable goal: find Aurora, protect her, and get her out of harm’s way. The War Hammer Titan’s power activated within him, and with a surge of energy, Eren began to tunnel through the ground, tearing through stone and dirt, creating his escape route with ruthless efficiency.

Armin grabbed Mikasa’s arm, his face pale. “We need to get out of here — now!”

The two of them scrambled out of the collapsing structure, narrowly avoiding being crushed by debris as Eren burrowed deeper and deeper. All they could do was watch in stunned horror as Eren disappeared into the earth, unstoppable and driven by a singular purpose.

…

The ground shook violently, sending tremors up the walls of Historia’s farmhouse. Dust drifted down from the ceiling as books and trinkets rattled on their shelves. Floch tensed, one hand moving to his rifle, while Historia’s eyes widened, glancing nervously at Aurora. She knew Eren’s power; this must be him, there was no one else who could create this kind of upheaval. But Aurora had already gone pale, her eyes locked on the ground.

The rumbling grew louder, and then, with an earth-shattering crack, the ground just outside the farmhouse burst open. Eren’s massive Titan form emerged, dirt and stone sliding from his skin as he climbed out of the tunnel he'd created. The sight was both awe-inspiring and terrifying—a being of immense power, striding with purpose toward the farmhouse.

Floch moved forward, shouting, “Stay back, Aurora! It’s not safe until we know what he’s—”

But Aurora’s heart was pounding too fast, her emotions overwhelming her. She had been holding everything back for weeks, not knowing if he was safe, if he would be okay, and now he was right there in front of her. Without a second thought, she broke into a sprint, her breath hitching as tears blurred her vision. “Eren!” she cried, her voice breaking. Historia reached out as if to stop her, but Aurora was too quick, already running toward the Titan with all the strength she had.

From within his Titan, Eren saw her. His heart ached with the sight of her, desperate and running toward him. He quickly broke out of his Titan’s nape, leaping down and landing just in time to catch her in his arms. Aurora threw herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him as if she never wanted to let go. Her tears soaked into his shirt as she buried her face in his shoulder, her entire body trembling in his hold.

“Aurora…” Eren whispered, his voice raw with emotion. He tightened his arms around her, feeling her warmth against him, feeling the love they’d both been forced to bury while separated. He couldn’t believe he was holding her again .

Aurora pulled back just enough to look up at him, her tear-streaked face radiant with relief. “I was so scared, Eren,” she whispered, brushing a hand over his cheek as if confirming he was real. “I thought… I thought they would… that they would…”

Eren shook his head, gently pressing his forehead against hers. “It’s okay Aurora… I’m okay. We’re safe and no one will ever hurt you,” he said, his voice low but filled with fierce determination. “Not as long as I’m here.”

She nodded, a fresh wave of tears falling, and then, unable to hold back any longer, she leaned up and captured his lips in a kiss, pouring everything she had been holding onto into that one moment. Eren kissed her back with equal passion, his hands moving to cradle her face as he pulled her closer, wanting to feel her heartbeat against his own. For a few endless seconds, it was just them—the chaos and danger of their world fading away as they melted into each other.

Behind them, Floch and Historia exchanged glances. Floch looked slightly uncomfortable, while Historia watched with a mixture of relief and something close to pride. After everything Aurora and Eren had gone through, they deserved this moment, fleeting as it might be.

When they finally broke apart, Eren took her hands in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Are you okay? Is the baby…?” His voice softened, an uncharacteristic gentleness in his gaze as he looked down, resting a hand on her abdomen.

Aurora nodded, her eyes shining. “We’re fine, Eren. I’m fine.” She placed her hand over his. “But… they were looking for me. They suspect… they suspect me, Eren.”

Eren’s jaw clenched, and a fierce protectiveness flared in his eyes. “They won’t get near you. I’ll make sure of it.” He looked over his shoulder toward Floch and Historia, who had stepped closer.

Historia spoke up, her voice steady. “Eren, things are unraveling quickly. The military is closing in, and they won’t stop until they have control of the Founding Titan.” She paused, glancing at Aurora. “And now that they suspect Aurora… we need to move quickly.”

Floch nodded in agreement, his expression serious. “The Jaegerists are ready, Eren. Everyone’s prepared to act on your word.”

Eren looked at them both, then back at Aurora. The love and protectiveness he felt for her ignited his resolve. There was no more time for hiding, no more time for waiting. He couldn’t allow anyone to threaten the life he wanted to build with her and their child.

“Then we don’t wait any longer,” Eren said firmly, glancing at Floch. “Alert the Jaegerists. It’s time to take control.”

Aurora looked up at him, her worry still evident. “Are you sure, Eren? This… this is huge. There’s no going back.”

He met her gaze, his expression unyielding. “For you and our future, I’d burn down the world if I have to.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, the resolve in his voice unwavering. “No one will stand in our way. Not anymore.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 21

Eren led Aurora into the quiet room on Historia’s farm, closing the door behind them and casting a lingering glance to ensure their privacy. The soft glow of evening light spilled through the window, bathing the room in a warm, golden hue. It was a stark contrast to the tension that filled the air between them, tension born from nearly a month apart and the heavy burdens they each carried.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Aurora looked up at him, her expression strained with worry and remorse. She clutched her hands together, taking a shaky breath before speaking.

“Eren… I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I… I didn’t know what else to do. They wouldn’t let me see you, and I was terrified… I thought they were going to kill you. Historia and Floch, they kept saying to trust you, to trust the plan, but—” Her voice wavered, and she took a ragged breath, her eyes shining with tears. “But I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing, Eren. I couldn’t lose you.”

Eren’s expression softened as he took a step forward, reaching out to gently pull her into his arms. He held her close, feeling her heartbeat against his chest, and for a moment, he simply stood there, letting her tremble in his embrace. He knew the fear that had driven her, the desperation that had made her feel she needed to act. And he understood — he couldn’t fault her for it. She’d been through too much, seen too much loss, to simply wait without action.

“Aurora,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “You don’t have to apologize. You did what you thought you needed to do. I understand.”

“But… I killed him,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if speaking the words made them more real. “The Premier… he’s dead because of me. I never thought… I didn’t want to be that person, Eren. I didn’t want to become like this.”

Eren pulled back slightly, holding her face in his hands so that she could see the sincerity in his gaze. “Listen to me,” he said firmly. “What you did, you did out of love and fear. And I’ll never hold that against you. You did it for me, for us, and for our baby. You are not a monster, Aurora. I know what true monsters are.” His voice softened, his thumb gently brushing away the tear that slipped down her cheek. “You have a gentle heart, and that hasn’t changed. You were pushed to an extreme, and you did what you felt you had to do.”

Aurora let out a shaky breath, a mixture of relief and lingering guilt flooding her expression. “But… they’re looking for me now, aren’t they? Captain Levi, Hange… the others. They want to question me, maybe even…” She trailed off, fear darkening her eyes. “They’d arrest me, wouldn’t they?”

Eren’s eyes narrowed slightly, a hardened resolve flickering in their depths. “ Over my dead body ,” he said quietly, his voice laced with a steel determination. “I won’t let anyone lay a hand on you. Not Levi, not the military, no one.” He took a breath, his gaze intensifying as he held her hands tightly. “I have a plan, and you won’t go to prison. Trust me.”

She nodded, still trembling slightly, though his words comforted her. “I do trust you, Eren… I always have. But I… I just don’t want to be a burden to you. Not now, not with everything you’re dealing with.” She looked down, her hands instinctively moving to her abdomen, where their unborn child lay. “I should’ve been stronger for you.”

Eren’s gaze softened as he followed her movement, reaching down to place his hand over hers, feeling the warmth of her touch. “You are strong, Aurora,” he said softly. “You’ve been stronger than anyone I know. You survived things that would’ve broken most people. And now… you’re carrying our child. You’re giving me something worth fighting for.” His voice softened further, his thumb tracing gentle circles over her hand. “And I will fight. I’ll make a world where you and our child can be free… no matter what it takes.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with both love and fear. “But… can we really be free, Eren? With everything happening, with the whole world against us… sometimes I wonder if freedom is even possible.”

Eren’s jaw clenched, and a fierce glint appeared in his eyes. “Freedom is the only thing I’ve ever wanted,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of years of anger, pain, and determination. “And now, it’s not just for me. It’s for you. For our child. For every person on Paradis who’s ever been denied their right to live freely.” He took a breath, his gaze never leaving hers. “And if I have to tear down every wall, break every chain, and destroy every enemy to get it, then that’s what I’ll do. I’m not afraid of what I have to become.”

Aurora studied him, feeling both comforted and unsettled by the intensity of his words. She knew the darkness he carried, the resolve that had hardened his heart over the years. But she also knew the love he held for her, and she clung to that, hoping it would be enough to keep them both grounded.

She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his, their breaths mingling as they stood in the quiet space. “Just… promise me, Eren, that no matter what happens, we’ll do this together. I don’t want to be left in the dark. I don’t want to be kept waiting again.”

Eren nodded, a softness creeping into his gaze as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “I promise. Whatever happens next… we’ll face it together. And I won’t let anyone or anything keep us apart again.”

For a long moment, they stood there in silence, simply holding each other. The world outside was chaotic, filled with enemies and obstacles, but in this moment, in each other’s arms, they found a fleeting peace.

Finally, Eren pulled back, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Come on,” he said, leading her to sit down on the small bench by the window. “You need to rest. You’ve been through too much, and you’re not alone in this anymore.”

Aurora let out a quiet laugh, the sound mingling with a sigh of relief as she leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. “Thank you, Eren,” she murmured, her eyes growing heavy as the weight of her worry lifted just slightly. “For everything.”

Eren wrapped an arm around her, holding her close, his gaze focused on the horizon outside the window. His mind was racing with plans, with the steps he’d need to take to keep her safe, to ensure their future. He wouldn’t let anyone take her away from him. Not Levi, not the military — no one.

In the back of his mind, he was already mapping out the steps he’d need to take, the allies he’d need to rally, and the lines he’d be willing to cross. But for now, he held her, letting her drift into a much-needed rest. He had a plan, and as always, he’d make sure it went exactly the way he needed it to.

As he felt her breathing, Eren took a deep breath, steadying himself as he prepared to tell Aurora something that would change her understanding of herself forever. He watched her carefully, noting the gentleness in her expression, the love she held for him even in times of fear and uncertainty. She’d been through so much already, and yet she remained resilient. It was a resilience he cherished, one that had brought them closer through every trial.

“Aurora,” he began softly, his voice tinged with a rare vulnerability. “There’s something you need to know about who you are… something about your bloodline.” He paused, searching her eyes, which were already widening in concern.

“My… bloodline?” Aurora’s voice was filled with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. She had learned to brace herself for anything, but this felt different. Eren’s tone was serious, his gaze unwavering. She shifted closer to him, a hand reaching for his, seeking comfort in his touch.

Eren nodded. “Yes. I’ve known for a while now, but I couldn’t find the right moment to tell you. I wanted to protect you from the implications… but you deserve the truth, especially now.” He took a steadying breath, his fingers tightening around hers. “You… you have royal blood, Aurora. You’re related to the Fritz family.”

Aurora’s lips parted as she tried to process his words. Her heartbeat quickened, and her brows furrowed in confusion. “Royal blood? The Fritz family? Eren… I don’t understand. How can that be possible?”

“It goes back to your mother,” Eren explained gently. “In the memories I accessed, I saw glimpses of your mother’s past when she told your father about her connection to the royal family. Her elder cousin was Dina Fritz.” He paused, watching the shock spread across Aurora’s face. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? When you told me your mother mentioned her cousin who disappeared… that cousin was Dina.”

Aurora’s mind raced, her heart thudding against her chest. She remembered her mother mentioning a cousin, but Dina had been little more than a name to her, a distant memory mentioned in passing. She’d never thought that name held any significance, never imagined it linked her to the royal family. And now, to learn that she shared a bloodline with a name that carried so much weight, so much history — it was staggering.

“I… I didn’t know,” she whispered, her hand trembling slightly in his. “Dina… I barely even remember her name. My mother said they were close once, but after that raid by the Tyburs… I thought Dina was lost, that she was just gone.”

“Dina’s bloodline is the same as Zeke’s,” Eren continued, his voice low but firm. “My half-brother, the Beast Titan. That makes you and Zeke second cousins.” He watched her, his gaze softening with empathy as he took in her overwhelmed expression. “And you’re distantly related to Historia, too. That’s why the Tyburs wanted to control you and your mother — to keep you hidden, to use your bloodline as a tool, as a means of control.”

Aurora’s eyes filled with emotion as she processed the weight of his words. “All this time… I thought my mother and I were just… just victims of circumstance, taken for reasons I could never understand.” She swallowed hard, a mixture of anger and sadness welling within her. “And it was because of… of my blood.”

Eren’s grip on her hand tightened. “I know this is a lot, but listen to me. No one else can know about this, especially now.” His voice was filled with an urgency that brought her back to the present, her gaze locking onto his. “If anyone in the military found out you had royal blood, they’d see you as a threat. And with the baby…” His voice trailed off, a flicker of fear crossing his face. “They’d use you. They’d use our child. I can’t let that happen.”

Aurora’s hand instinctively moved to her abdomen, protectively cradling the life growing within her. Her gaze softened as she looked back at Eren. “I understand,” she whispered. “No one has to know. It’ll stay between us.” She paused, a faint tremble in her voice. “But Eren… does this change anything for us? For what you have planned?”

Eren’s expression softened, and he cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb gently over her skin. “No,” he said firmly. “This changes nothing between us. If anything, it makes me more determined to protect you, to protect what we have. I’ll keep you safe, no matter what it takes.”

She leaned into his touch, her eyes searching his. “Thank you, Eren. For telling me, for trusting me with this.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of her gratitude and love for him.

Eren pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her as he held her tightly. “We’ll get through this together. I promise,” he murmured against her hair, his words a quiet vow. In that moment, he felt the full weight of his responsibility to her, to their child, and to the future he was determined to carve out for them.

They stayed there for a while, wrapped in each other’s warmth, letting the comfort of their embrace ease the overwhelming reality of Aurora’s newfound identity. Eren knew he had to tread carefully now, keeping this secret buried and out of reach. For Aurora’s sake, and for their child, he’d keep fighting, willing to face anything the world threw at them.

And, silently, he vowed to himself that he would ensure her royal blood would remain their secret — a secret he would carry to his grave if necessary.

…

Across the sea in the dimly lit war room deep within the Marleyan headquarters, Generals Calvi and Magath sat around an imposing table with their most trusted advisors. Maps of Paradis Island and troop formations scattered the surface, the symbols marking titan positions and military intel. The atmosphere was tense, a tangible bitterness and urgency hanging in the air since the devastating raid on Liberio a month prior. Across from them sat Zeke, Porco, and Pieck, the Warriors assembled to strategize on how to strike back at Eren Jaeger.

“Jaeger… that son of a bitch has thrown the world into chaos,” General Calvi said, slamming his fist against the table. “In just one night, he’s shattered years of work and made Marley look weak.” His voice echoed off the walls, and his steely gaze swept over the assembled warriors.

Magath leaned forward, his fingers tracing lines on the map of Paradis. “And now, he holds the War Hammer Titan’s power. He could be amassing an arsenal of titans for all we know. The possibility of him initiating the Rumbling is our worst-case scenario.”

Zeke, sitting with a composed but calculating look, spoke up. “There’s still much we don’t know about Jaeger’s objectives. Releasing the wall titans to trample the world would be devastating, but we can’t be certain of the conditions he needs to activate such power.” His words seemed calm, but there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes.

Pieck nodded, her eyes narrow. “We’ve all seen what he’s capable of — he won’t hesitate to use whatever strength he has to protect Paradis. But his motivations… are more complex than they appear. This isn’t just about gaining power. There’s a personal vendetta in his actions, a grudge that runs deep.”

At that moment, a Marleyan officer entered the room, nodding respectfully before stepping forward. “Generals, we’ve brought in someone who claims to have pertinent information regarding Eren Jaeger. He says he witnessed something during the raid that may reveal more about Jaeger’s activities.”

The room fell silent as the officer ushered in an elderly clergyman. His face was weathered and lined with age, a look of disdain clear in his eyes as he observed the powerful figures seated around him. His fingers clutched the brim of his hat tightly, and he gave the generals a stiff bow.

Magath arched an eyebrow. “State your business, old man. You say you have information on Eren Jaeger?”

The clergyman’s mouth twisted into a bitter scowl. “Yes, General. I came forward because, in all my years of service, I never thought I’d be so deceived… I was deceived into marrying two spawns of the devil.”

The generals and warriors exchanged confused glances, a flicker of intrigue spreading through the room.

Calvi crossed his arms. “Explain yourself, clergyman. What do you mean by ‘marrying two spawns of the devil’?”

The old man’s eyes glinted with disgust, his voice lowering as if speaking of something foul. “During the raid, I was… injured,” he began, his voice cold. “A young woman tended to me, a kind soul, or so I thought. She nursed my wounds with herbs, even stayed by my side when everyone else fled in terror. She called herself ‘Mrs. Kruger,’ and her face, though innocent, held a strange sorrow.”

Calvi’s eyes narrowed. “And what does this have to do with Jaeger?”

The clergyman straightened, his gaze unwavering. “Because, as I lay there injured, I saw something that left me horrified. I saw the Attack Titan itself picking up that very same woman, cradling her with an unexpected tenderness and placing her on the escape airship. And then, a man emerged from that nape of that same titan … Eren Jaeger, and he boarded that airship with her. I knew then that I had been tricked — I had unwittingly married the devil himself and his bride.”

A stunned silence filled the room as the Marleyan generals and warriors tried to process what they had just heard.

Pieck looked over at Magath, her eyebrows raised. “Wait… are you saying Eren Jaeger got married while undercover in Marley?”

The clergyman nodded solemnly. “Yes. For seven months, that devil deceived us, hiding in plain sight… and he somehow found a partner, a woman who was as much a part of his deception as he was.”

General Calvi’s face was a mix of shock and anger. “How could he have pulled something like this off? Who is this woman?”

Zeke leaned forward, his eyes sharp with interest. “This is new information,” he murmured. “Jaeger went to Marley with a specific purpose… but he also found time to get close enough to someone to marry her?”

One of the Marleyan intelligence officers spoke up, holding a folder in his hands. “After the clergyman’s testimony, we conducted an investigation. We found records indicating that this woman was once a slave belonging to the Tybur family. Her name is… Aurora.”

Magath raised an eyebrow. “The Tybur family? What’s her connection to them?”

The officer continued, flipping through the documents. “Aurora was reported missing from the Tybur estate approximately eight months ago. She was a servant who vanished under mysterious circumstances. Her records indicate she was Eldian.”

One of the advisors scoffed, his arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair. “Figures. But why would Jaeger go out of his way to take her with him?”

General Calvi looked at the clergyman with a scowl. “You’re certain you saw Jaeger treating this woman… with affection?”

The clergyman nodded. “I swear it on my faith. It was clear in his actions, in the way he looked at her. I may not have realized their true nature at the time, but that woman was important to him.”

Magath’s jaw clenched as he mulled over the implications. “Jaeger… he was in Marley, undercover, for months. He could’ve gathered a wealth of intelligence, but he also had the time to develop… personal ties. This woman, Aurora… she’s more than just an accomplice. She’s a part of his life, of his mission.”

Pieck’s eyes glinted as she considered this new information. “A runaway slave, possibly with information from the Tyburs. She might know things about the War Hammer Titan that Jaeger now possesses.”

Zeke nodded, looking thoughtful. “If Eren has an attachment to her, it could be a potential weakness. He’s reckless, but love… love can make even the strongest foolhardy.”

The generals exchanged glances, nodding grimly as they began to see the potential advantage. If this woman truly meant as much to Eren as the clergyman claimed, she could be used to manipulate or even corner him.

General Calvi leaned back, his expression cold and calculating. “Then we must consider Aurora Jaeger, a primary target. She’s no innocent bystander — she’s as guilty as Jaeger himself. If we can capture her… it may force his hand.”

Porco smirked, a ruthless gleam in his eye. “Then let’s prepare. That devil and his bride won’t be able to hide for long. And once we have her, Jaeger’s days are numbered.”

…

In the following days, the Marleyan generals and warriors continued to lay out their strategy with grim determination, fueled by the newfound knowledge of Eren’s vulnerability. They knew that Eren Jaeger was unlike any opponent they had faced. Driven, cunning, and unafraid to cross boundaries, he had already wreaked havoc on their home soil and destabilized Marley’s political standing. But with this unexpected revelation about his wife — a young woman named Aurora Jaeger — they now had the key to exploiting what was perhaps his only true weakness.

General Magath tapped the map spread out across the table, indicating Paradis Island with a forceful jab of his finger. “We’ve seen the depths of Jaeger’s ruthlessness. He’s willing to slaughter civilians, destroy infrastructure, and now, with the War Hammer Titan’s power, he’s only become more dangerous. But he hasn’t used the Rumbling, and that tells us something important.”

General Calvi nodded in agreement, his face dark and resolute. “He doesn’t have full access to the Founding Titan’s power. Either he lacks the conditions necessary, or he’s holding back for some unknown reason. But if we can strike while he’s vulnerable, before he achieves that power, we can put an end to this threat once and for all.”

Zeke, seated beside Pieck and Porco, spoke up, his eyes thoughtful. “Eren’s dependence on certain conditions to activate the Founding Titan means he’s not invincible yet. And if he’s as attached to this woman as we’ve heard, she could be his Achilles’ heel.” Zeke’s tone was carefully neutral, but there was a glint in his eye as he looked down at the map.

Pieck glanced over at Zeke, her brow furrowed. “And with a personal connection like that, Eren’s likely more protective than we realize. He may be keeping her close, possibly even hidden.”

Porco let out a low chuckle, his eyes narrowing with predatory intent. “So, what’s the plan, then? We march in, grab the girl, and watch Jaeger fall apart?”

Magath shook his head. “It’s not that simple, Galliard. We’re up against a trained military force on Paradis, not to mention the Scouts and any support Eren’s managed to gather. Our best chance lies in an alliance — bringing together a global coalition. We’ll rally forces from every nation willing to join us and strike in unison.”

General Calvi added, “And to do that, we need to present Eren Jaeger as a threat to the world. The global alliance will join us if they realize that this man holds a power that could wipe them off the map if he chooses. We must make them understand the urgency. Once we secure their help, we’ll invade Paradis with overwhelming force, capture the Founding Titan, and ensure the island is destroyed. No more risks. No more potential for these devils to threaten the world.”

Magath’s gaze hardened as he leaned over the table. “But first, we need leverage. And that leverage is Aurora Jaeger. With her as our hostage, Eren will be forced to comply. He may be the devil, but even devils have something they care about.”

Zeke observed his colleagues’ fervor, his expression unreadable. “If we use Aurora as bait, it will give us a tactical advantage, but we need to be prepared for Eren’s retaliation. He won’t back down easily, especially if he’s aware of our plan.”

Pieck interjected, “We don’t need him to back down. All we need is his moment of hesitation, that brief second when his guard is lowered. A tactical team can infiltrate Paradis with Aurora as the target, creating enough of a distraction to draw Eren out.”

Calvi nodded, satisfied with the formation of the plan. “Our goal is twofold. First, to capture Aurora and destabilize Jaeger. Second, to work with the global alliance to overpower Paradis with sheer numbers and technology.”

The generals nodded, their determination palpable as the strategy took shape. They would mobilize the Marleyan forces and coordinate with the global alliance. As plans were laid out, intelligence networks were set in motion to track any intel on Aurora’s whereabouts. If she was with Eren, they would find her, and when they did, they’d make their move.

As the room began to clear, Zeke lingered a moment, deep in thought. He had learned enough about his brother to know that Eren’s focus was unbreakable, even in the face of overwhelming odds. But this love for Aurora — this attachment — was something unexpected. If the girl truly meant as much to Eren as the Marleyan generals were assuming, it would indeed be a powerful card to play.

Zeke’s thoughts drifted to his own mother, Dina Fritz, and the sacrifices she’d made, the lineage she bore that Eren was now using to his advantage. He understood what Eren sought, but he also knew the kind of drive it would take to stop him. If he were to help take down his half-brother, he would have to be prepared for the full weight of that choice.

With a final nod to the generals, Zeke rose, a faint smirk on his lips. He would play his part, but he would keep his own motives hidden — after all, he understood the bloodlines as well as anyone.

And so, the plan was set in motion. The Marleyan forces would soon make contact with the global alliance, each nation contributing its finest soldiers, weapons, and resources, all aimed at a single, remote island — Paradis. Their collective power would be enough to devastate Eren Jaeger’s homeland, and with Aurora in their possession, they would weaken him from the inside, slowly and systematically.

But as the Marleyans prepared for their strike, the weight of their plan became clear to every person in that room. They weren’t just fighting to reclaim the titans or assert Marley’s dominance; they were about to incite a full-scale assault on Paradis that would ripple through history, changing the world forever. And as they finalized their strategy, a sense of foreboding lingered. They knew they were dealing with a man who had crossed every boundary, someone who had defied Marley and walked away stronger, a man who saw the world through a prism of his own determination and would stop at nothing to protect what he held dear.

And now, they were about to confront the one thing that made him vulnerable — the one thing that just might be his undoing.

Chapter Text

Chapter 22

In the heart of a secluded stronghold hidden underneath Queen Historia’s farm, the Jaegerists had gathered in a vast assembly hall. The air was thick with anticipation, a mixture of tension and exhilaration as hundreds of loyal soldiers — members of the Survey Corps, the Garrison, and the Military Police — stood shoulder to shoulder, awaiting the appearance of the man they believed would bring them salvation.

It had been mere days since the Premier’s unexpected death and Eren’s dramatic escape from his cell. Word spread quickly about his impending takeover, and soon, the ranks of the Jaegerists swelled beyond anything anyone had anticipated. The room was filled with faces marked by resolve, their eyes burning with unwavering loyalty to Eren Jaeger, the man they believed was the last hope for their island.

Floch stood at the edge of the crowd, nodding in approval as he observed the assembled soldiers. He, more than anyone, understood the lengths to which these people would go to follow Eren. Every person here was ready to stand beside him, fight for him, and die for him if necessary. Behind Floch stood Historia, silent but poised, her expression unreadable as she waited for Eren to address his followers.

Finally, a ripple of movement went through the crowd as Eren emerged from the shadows. The hall fell into a tense silence as he stepped forward, his expression intense, his green eyes sharp as they surveyed his followers. Eren was dressed in his signature black hooded jacket, his posture tall and authoritative. He seemed both larger than life and deeply grounded, his aura commanding every eye in the room to remain fixated on him.

He raised a hand, and the crowd immediately straightened, their breaths held as they waited for his words. Eren’s voice was calm but carried an edge of steel, his words resonating throughout the room.

“Today marks the beginning of our true liberation,” he began, his tone low but forceful. “For too long, Paradis has been backed into a corner, left to fend for itself against a world that would sooner see us crushed than give us a chance to defend our own lives. But we are not defenseless. We have the power to fight, and we have the will to take control of our destiny.”

The room was silent, each Jaegerist leaning in to absorb his every word, their loyalty and conviction deepening with each sentence.

“I am committed to securing a future for us — for all of you, your families, for the future generations of Paradis,” Eren continued, his voice growing stronger, his presence becoming almost magnetic. “But this won’t come without sacrifices. We have one weapon strong enough to deter the entire world: the Rumbling . And I intend to use it to its full potential.”

A murmur went through the crowd, a mixture of awe and approval rippling among them. They knew that only Eren had the courage and determination to go to such lengths. Only he was willing to bear the weight of the Rumbling and ensure that Paradis could survive without fear of annihilation.

“But there is something else,” Eren said, his voice softening slightly as he glanced to his side, where Aurora stood, her face calm but her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions.

Eren extended a hand, motioning for Aurora to step forward. The crowd watched intently as she took her place beside him, her platinum hair gleaming under the dim lights, her delicate features exuding a quiet strength that, for those who looked closely, mirrored Eren’s own resolve. Her presence brought a new level of curiosity to the room, as whispers began to spread through the crowd.

Eren’s voice cut through the murmurs. “This is Aurora Jaeger. My wife.” His words were clear, direct, and resolute, and they left the Jaegerists stunned, their gazes shifting between Eren and Aurora.

“She has been with me, through everything,” Eren continued, his tone tinged with a fierce protectiveness. “She’s risked her life, sacrificed everything, just as I have. And just as you stand by my side, she has stood by mine.”

Aurora’s eyes softened as she looked up at Eren, a subtle smile on her lips. Though the eyes of hundreds of people were on her, she felt safe beside him, his presence a source of strength she could draw upon. She knew the importance of this moment, the symbolic weight of being introduced to Eren’s followers as his wife.

Eren’s gaze swept over the crowd, and his expression hardened. “Aurora is to be protected at all costs. Her safety is paramount. I expect each and every one of you to ensure she is never put in harm’s way. Consider it your highest priority — as important as the mission itself.”

The room held a charged silence, each Jaegerist processing the weight of his command. To protect Aurora was to honor Eren’s wishes, to solidify their loyalty to him in the most tangible way possible.

Historia, standing near the front, raised a fist, her face alight with fervor. “For Eren! For Aurora! For Paradis!” she called, her voice echoing through the hall.

The rest of the crowd echoed his cry, their voices swelling in unison, creating a wave of energy that filled the room. “For Eren! For Aurora! For Paradis!”

Eren watched them, a grim satisfaction settling in his chest as he saw the unwavering determination in the faces of his followers. He knew these people were ready to fight for the future he envisioned — a future he could only secure by unleashing the Rumbling and destroying any threat to Paradis.

Aurora glanced over at Eren, her eyes meeting his, her expression a mix of pride and trepidation. She had never seen him like this — standing as a leader, commanding hundreds of loyal soldiers who would do anything he asked of them. Yet despite her apprehension, she felt an unshakable pride in him, in the vision he was fighting to protect.

Eren placed a hand on her shoulder, grounding her with his touch. He leaned close, his voice low enough for only her to hear. “You’re safe here. They’ll protect you with their lives.”

Aurora nodded, her voice equally soft. “I trust you, Eren. I know you’ll do everything you can to keep us safe.”

Eren’s eyes softened, a rare vulnerability breaking through his fierce exterior as he looked at her. “I’ll do more than that. I’ll make sure no one ever touches a hair on your head.”

As the Jaegerists watched their leader with his wife by his side, they felt a renewed sense of purpose. This wasn’t just about securing the safety of Paradis — it was about preserving the lives of those they cared for, ensuring that they could finally live without fear of invasion or destruction. And with Eren at the helm, they believed they had a leader who would stop at nothing to make that dream a reality.

With one final look at his followers, Eren stepped back, his gaze sweeping across the room, and spoke in a voice that reverberated through every person present. “We are the Jaegerists. We are the shield and sword of Paradis. And together, we will build a future where we can finally live as free people. If we win, we live. If we lose, we die. If we don't fight, we can't win! We must fight!”

The Jaegerists erupted into a roar of approval, their voices united in loyalty and conviction. For Eren, for Aurora, and for the island they called home — they would lay down their lives, just as he would for them.

Aurora watched the crowd, her heart swelling with a mixture of hope and apprehension. She knew that the road ahead would be paved with bloodshed, with sacrifices beyond what she could yet comprehend. But standing beside Eren, feeling his strength and love for her, she knew she was ready to face whatever lay ahead.

…

The following day under the quiet shadows of Historia's farm, Eren sat with Floch and a few handpicked Jaegerists, discussing their next moves and the delicate matter of deflecting blame for the Premier’s death. Eren’s expression was stony, his jaw set with a grim resolve as he revealed the decision he had made.

“We need a fall guy,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of finality. “Someone loyal. Someone willing to take the blame for Zachary’s death.”

Floch’s eyes flickered, understanding the implications immediately. He leaned forward, nodding with a calculating look. “I think I know just the person. Young, dedicated, and a recent convert to our cause. He won’t question it.” Floch’s words were steady, but there was a certain unease hidden in his eyes.

Eren’s gaze bore into Floch. “Make it happen. I want this behind us by tomorrow.”

Floch’s lips tightened, and he nodded, fully understanding the burden placed on him. He would handle it. It was a necessary sacrifice, a step closer to the goal Eren had committed himself to, and by extension, one Floch had sworn to follow.

Once the others had dispersed to put Eren’s plan into motion, Aurora came forward quietly from the nearby doorway, her face pale but set with determination. She had overheard the conversation, and the reality of the sacrifice Eren was making weighed heavily on her. She bit her lip, her gaze drifting to the floor before meeting Eren’s.

“Eren… you’re really going to frame someone for this?” she asked softly, guilt gnawing at her. She knew it was her own hand, her own concoction, that had led to the Premier’s death, and the thought of someone else taking the blame made her heart ache with shame.

Eren placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his expression softening slightly. “Aurora,” he said, his voice firm yet tender, “this isn’t on you anymore. We’re too close to our goal to let this setback ruin everything. What happened was necessary, but we can’t afford for you to be implicated.”

She looked at him, uncertainty in her eyes, but she knew Eren wouldn’t be swayed. His love for her was absolute, and his willingness to protect her, even at the cost of another’s life, was unwavering. She managed a small nod, though the guilt still lingered heavily in her heart.

As they stood in silence, Floch approached again, his footsteps deliberate as he observed the pair. His expression was unreadable, but Aurora could feel his lingering gaze. She had noticed his scrutiny before — a watchfulness that unsettled her. Despite his outward respect for her and Eren’s relationship, there was something cold and cautious about the way he looked at her.

“Floch,” Eren said, breaking the silence, “we’re counting on you. Make sure this stays under control.”

Floch nodded curtly, his eyes drifting back to Aurora, and he hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Of course, Eren. I’ll make sure no one suspects anything. But…” He looked directly at Aurora, his tone carefully neutral. “You know, Mrs. Jaeger, I’ve come to understand that you’re not quite as… helpless as you might appear.”

Aurora’s expression stiffened, a hint of unease in her gaze. She didn’t respond immediately, and Eren’s own demeanor shifted, his protective instincts flaring as he stepped slightly in front of her.

“What are you getting at, Floch?” Eren asked, his voice a touch colder.

Floch held up his hands, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Nothing disrespectful, Eren. I’m just acknowledging that Aurora here is… quite resourceful. I mean, it takes a certain kind of person to concoct a poison as potent as the one that took down Zachary.”

Aurora’s jaw tightened, and she took a steadying breath, maintaining her composure. “You don’t know me, Floch,” she replied, her voice level but edged with a quiet intensity. “You might think you understand what I’m capable of, but you don’t.”

Floch’s smirk faded slightly, his gaze sharpening as he studied her, but he kept his silence, unwilling to push further. His doubts lingered, but he could sense that pressing this issue would not end well for him. If there was one thing he understood, it was that Eren’s loyalty to Aurora was unbreakable — a line he dared not cross .

“I’ll make sure everything goes according to plan,” Floch said finally, his tone respectful but cautious. “And I’ll leave you both to your business.”

As he turned and walked away, Aurora let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her tension visibly easing. She looked at Eren, a mixture of frustration and vulnerability in her eyes.

“He doesn’t trust me,” she murmured, her gaze dropping.

Eren reached for her hand, his grip firm and reassuring. “He doesn’t need to trust you,” he replied, his voice soft but resolute. “I trust you. And that’s all that matters.”

Aurora managed a small, grateful smile, her heart steadying as she held onto Eren’s words. In his presence, she felt protected and understood, even if the rest of the world looked at her with suspicion. Still, the lingering guilt remained, a weight she couldn’t easily shake.

“What if… what if this gets out of hand?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “What if they find out the truth?”

Eren’s gaze hardened, and he pulled her close, his hands resting on her shoulders. “They won’t. I’ll make sure of it. And even if they did… I would never let them hurt you.”

Aurora leaned into him, feeling the strength of his conviction, and she closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his embrace soothe her. In this moment, her fears faded, and she allowed herself to trust in Eren’s words, to believe that he would protect her, no matter the cost.

As night settled over the stronghold, Eren’s orders were quietly executed. The scout recruit — a young man loyal to the Jaegerists and utterly devoted to Eren’s cause — was positioned as the fall guy for the Premier’s murder. The plan was seamless, each detail meticulously orchestrated to ensure the blame would fall entirely on him. The next morning, rumors began to circulate, whispers of the supposed killer’s capture spreading throughout Paradis, satisfying the military police’s demand for justice and quelling any further investigation.

But even as the plan succeeded, Aurora’s heart remained troubled, the weight of the secret gnawing at her. She would stay by Eren’s side, no matter what, but she couldn’t help but wonder what the future held — for them, for their child, and for the people of Paradis.

…

The next day, Eren stood before the gathered Jaegerists, his sharp gaze sweeping across the ranks that had grown day by day. Floch stood at his side, while Historia, with her calm presence and quiet strength, observed from a step behind. Beside Eren, Aurora appeared composed, though a touch of apprehension flickered in her eyes. She knew what today meant—the Jaegerists’ movement was no longer just whispers in darkened hallways. Today, they would rally under Eren’s command in plain view, challenging the very foundation of Paradis’s current military leadership.

“We’re here to change the fate of this island,” Eren began, his voice low and deliberate. “To break free from the cycle that’s kept us caged, and to create a world where our children won’t grow up as prey for enemies who only want us dead. The old ways of trust and submission haven’t worked, and it’s up to us now to secure our future.”

The soldiers in the room, the Jaegerists, nodded in agreement, murmuring their assent. They looked to Eren with hope and fierce determination, but Eren’s mind was momentarily elsewhere. He couldn’t shake the image of his old friends—Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Connie, Sasha, and even Hange and Levi. They had seen the world outside the walls, lived with people who, while once considered their enemies, had shown them kindness. Eren knew they probably heard of his plans for the Rumbling by now since he revealed them to his followers and would question his decision to bring destruction to the world, but he didn’t care anymore if they knew. He had his army now. 

“Historia,” Eren continued, turning to her. “The people will listen to you. They trust you—they see you as their queen, the one who freed them from the chains of tyranny.” He met her gaze, a look of trust passing between them. “I need you to show them why this is the only way. Rally them to our side, so they’ll understand that this isn’t just about us—this is about the survival of every last person on Paradis.”

Historia nodded solemnly. She knew the weight of what he was asking. “I’ll do it, Eren,” she said quietly. “They deserve to know what’s at stake. But we have to be ready for resistance. Not everyone will understand… not at first.”

Floch, with his usual fervor, added, “Once the people are behind us, the military will have no choice but to stand down. Every day, more soldiers join our cause. They know Eren is the only one willing to take the necessary steps to secure our future.”

As they continued their discussion, Eren’s attention drifted again, the faces of his friends flashing before his eyes. He knew that once the Jaegerists had full control, his friends would be the ones left standing in opposition. They, unlike the others, had seen the beauty of the world beyond Paradis when they all went to Marley for the summit for the Subjects of Ymir. They had laughed and shared meals with people from other lands. He remembered that night in the refugee camp, when they’d met Ramzi, the pickpocket boy, and glimpsed lives just as fragile and oppressed as their own, and Ramzi’s grandfather had invited them all into their camp for a night of celebration.

But for Eren, those memories only hardened his resolve. He couldn’t be swayed by moments of kindness, not when he had seen what awaited them if they did nothing. He would not allow the beauty they saw to blind him from the horrors he knew lay beyond.

“Eren,” Aurora’s gentle voice pulled him from his thoughts, grounding him back in the present. She placed a hand on his arm, her gaze steady and supportive. She knew the burdens he carried, and she trusted him. “Are you ready?”

He nodded, squeezing her hand. “I am.”

Just then, a Jaegerist approached and saluted sharply. “Eren, Commander Hange, Captain Levi, and several scouts have arrived.”

Eren’s jaw tightened, his gaze sharpening as he looked at Historia, Floch, and Aurora. The confrontation he had anticipated was here.

“It’s time,” Eren said. “Let’s meet them.”

Eren, Aurora, Floch, and Historia stepped out of the farmhouse, moving toward the growing crowd of soldiers gathered in the clearing. The Jaegerists, loyal and unwavering, formed a protective line around their leaders, a united wall of defiance against anyone who dared challenge Eren’s authority. The sun had started to descend, casting a golden glow across the tense scene, yet the air was thick with an unspoken threat, the kind that left a prickling sensation crawling across everyone’s skin.

Standing opposite them, Levi, Hange, Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Connie, Sasha, and a handful of other scouts were frozen in shock, their faces pale as they took in the sheer number of Jaegerists surrounding Eren. The reality of what they were up against became painfully clear as they glanced over the rows of soldiers, realizing that the Jaegerists easily dwarfed any one military regiment. They were organized, prepared, and they were prepared to die for Eren Jaeger.

Levi’s sharp eyes darted over each Jaegerist, assessing their stances, gauging their commitment. He knew he could cut through a crowd, but he wasn’t reckless enough to think he could take on hundreds without sustaining serious damage. He clenched his fists, frustration rippling through him, though his face remained as composed as ever.

Hange took a step forward, trying to catch Eren’s eye. “Eren!” she called out, her voice echoing through the stillness. “What do you think you’re doing? You’ve formed an army under our noses!.”

Eren held her gaze, his face unreadable. He walked forward with Aurora at his side, her hand interwoven with his. He was calm, unperturbed by the accusing eyes trained on him, yet his presence held a weight that was impossible to ignore.

“We’re here to secure our future, Hange,” he replied steadily. “One where we’re not begging for scraps of freedom. I’m done waiting for the world to spare us out of kindness.”

Levi’s stare was colder than ice, his narrowed gaze zeroing in on Aurora. “And you, Mrs. Jaeger,” he said, his voice low and brimming with suspicion, “do you expect us to believe you’re innocent in all this? A mere ‘young recruit’ killing the Premier?” His tone dripped with doubt. “ We’re not fools .”

Aurora met his gaze, a flicker of guilt flashing across her features before she forced herself to stand tall. She’d prepared herself for this. Eren had assured her that whatever suspicions Levi and Hange had, they wouldn’t be able to pin anything on her without evidence. Still, she could feel the weight of their distrust, and it wasn’t easy to keep her composure under Levi’s cold scrutiny.

“Believe what you want, Captain Levi,” Aurora replied, her tone firm though her voice held a hint of quiet remorse. “But I would never do anything to harm Eren’s cause. My loyalty is to him, just as yours was to humanity.” Her hand clenched around Eren’s, her silent message clear—she was with him, whatever it took.

Hange looked back and forth between them, her expression hardening. “You’re aligning yourself with someone who’s tearing this island apart, Aurora. And you’re not just risking your life; you’re risking all of ours.”

Floch stepped forward, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he folded his arms, addressing the scouts with a smug confidence. “The world has betrayed us time and time again,” he declared. “Eren’s the only one willing to do what’s necessary, and you all know it. This isn’t about ideals or dreams anymore—this is survival.”

Armin looked at Eren, his expression torn. He’d never imagined this—his best friend, the person he’d looked up to and believed in, standing against them, commanding an army of his own. “Eren… this isn’t who you are,” Armin said, his voice barely a whisper. “We can find another way. We can end this without destroying everything we’ve fought for.”

Eren’s gaze softened briefly as he looked at Armin. He didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t want to see the anguish etched on his friend’s face. But he also knew that Armin didn’t fully grasp the depths of the threat they faced. “Armin,” he said quietly, “I’ve seen too much to sit by and hope for peace. The world won’t change on its own. If we don’t act, we’ll be crushed.”

Mikasa stepped forward, her expression a mix of betrayal and pain. “Eren,” she murmured, her voice cracking, “I don’t understand how you could do this… How you could turn on everything we’ve believed in, everything we were fighting for together.”

Eren’s face remained impassive, though a flicker of sorrow crossed his eyes as he looked at Mikasa. He wished things could be different, wished he could explain it in a way she’d understand. But he knew she’d never see things his way. “Mikasa… this was never about us against the world. This is about saving what we have left.”

Jean clenched his fists, his anger boiling over. “And how is leading a cult of Jaegerists going to help that? You’ve gone off the deep end, Eren. You’re not saving us—you’re dragging us all down with you!”

Floch’s smirk widened as he stepped between them, his voice dripping with mockery. “You all just don’t get it, do you? The old ways failed. Eren’s taking control, and you’re either with us or against us. There’s no room for half-measures.”

Levi’s hand drifted to his blade, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the growing crowd of Jaegerists, their glares now focused on the scouts. He could feel the tension rising, and he knew a single wrong move could spark an all-out conflict. Still, his focus remained on Eren. “Is this what you wanted, Eren?” he asked, his voice cold. “To divide us? To throw away every bond we’ve fought to protect?”

Eren’s eyes flickered, a glimmer of regret showing just briefly before he hardened his resolve. “All I wanted was freedom, Captain. I wanted a life where we didn’t have to live in fear. If that means I have to become the enemy to secure that future, then so be it.”

Historia, who had been standing quietly beside Eren, finally stepped forward, her voice soft but steady. “This isn’t about division, Captain Levi. It’s about making sure our people have a future. Eren may be leading this movement, but he’s not the only one who believes in this cause. I believe in it too.”

Her words sent a shock through the scouts, especially Armin, who stared at her in disbelief. “Historia… I never thought you’d stand behind this.”

She met his gaze, her expression unyielding. “I’m not blind to the consequences, Armin. But I refuse to stand by and watch as my people are led to slaughter. This is about survival.”

Connie, who had been silent until now, looked between Eren and Historia, his face a mixture of anger and confusion. “You’re talking about survival, but this… this feels like betrayal. You’re turning on the very people who’ve protected you.”

Eren let out a heavy sigh, his eyes dark with determination. “I didn’t turn on anyone. I chose the only path I could see to protect the people I love.”

Aurora looked up at Eren, her heart aching at the weight he bore. She reached out and took his hand, her grip reassuring. She understood his pain, even if she couldn’t fully grasp the enormity of his plans. He was willing to risk everything for her, for their future, and she would stand by him no matter what.

Hange took a step back, her gaze weary. “If this is truly the path you’re choosing, then I don’t know if we can follow you anymore, Eren.” Her voice cracked with sadness as she looked at him, a friend who had once been a beacon of hope, now standing as a force of fear.

Eren remained silent, the weight of her words settling on him. He knew he couldn’t turn back, couldn’t falter. Not now.

Levi’s eyes were cold and sharp as he looked from Eren to Aurora, then back to the Jaegerists gathered around them. “Then it seems we’re at an impasse.” He glanced at Hange and the others, his voice carrying an air of finality. “We’ll step back for now. But don’t think this is over.”

The scouts turned to leave, their steps heavy with the knowledge that a line had been drawn, and they were on opposing sides. As they walked away, Eren watched them go, a strange mixture of sorrow and resolve etched on his face.

Historia placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. “They’ll understand someday, Eren. Maybe not now, but someday.”

Eren nodded, though his gaze remained fixed on the retreating figures of his friends. He didn’t know if they’d ever understand, but he couldn’t allow himself to hope for that. He had made his choice, and he would carry it through—whatever the cost.

…

Levi stormed into the scout headquarters, his jaw clenched and his fists tight by his sides, every step radiating a barely controlled fury. The scouts followed behind him, silent and uneasy, acutely aware of the gravity of the situation they were facing. Levi had seen countless betrayals, unimaginable horrors, and lost comrades, but this—this betrayal by Eren and the Jaegerists—cut deep, almost like a wound too fresh to be acknowledged.

The moment they reached the briefing room, Levi turned sharply to face the scouts, his eyes flashing. “Half of the Survey Corps—gone,” he hissed, pacing in a tight circle. “Jaegerists. I’d expect a few defectors, maybe. But half of our damn regiment?”

Hange, who was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s the same with the other regiments. The Garrison, the Military Police... Even Commander Pyxis was watching everything unfold with a strange sense of resignation. Eren didn’t just start a rebellion; he’s practically built an empire from within.”

Mikasa and Armin, standing side by side, exchanged a worried look. Mikasa’s fists clenched at her sides, her knuckles turning white as she tried to make sense of everything. She didn’t want to believe that Eren could do this, could turn on everything they’d once stood for.

“Captain, there must be another way to reach him,” Armin pleaded, his voice soft but insistent. “If we can just talk to him, get him alone and away from… all of them.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Aurora… maybe she’s been influencing him, maybe even manipulating him.”

Levi shook his head, his expression hard and unyielding. “Armin, this isn’t just about who Eren’s listening to. He’s made his choice all on his own. He escaped from his cell, nearly killed the two of you, and he doesn’t give a damn about any of us anymore. His loyalty is to his own twisted version of freedom and to Aurora. Nothing more.”

Jean, who had been quiet up until now, cleared his throat. “Levi’s right, Armin. Look at what he did in Liberio. He didn’t just destroy their military; he purposely leveled civilian homes and slaughtered innocents. And Aurora…” He shook his head, unable to hide the disgust in his voice. “She killed Premier Zachary and walked away without a shred of guilt. They’re both two psychopaths who are too far gone.”

Hange pushed off from the wall, rubbing her temples. “The Premier’s murder… we can’t ignore that, either. I knew Eren could be ruthless, but this…?” Her voice trailed off, laden with sadness and betrayal.

Connie’s face twisted with frustration, the internal conflict evident in his expression. “Eren’s always been willing to go to extreme lengths, sure. But he was our friend. There has to be something worth saving in him.”

Levi’s gaze shifted to Connie, hard and unflinching. “We don’t have the luxury of clinging to that ‘something’ anymore. Eren has his own army now. Hundreds of Jaegerists, ready to follow him to the ends of the earth. He’s got Floch, Historia, and even his damned wife rallying people to his side.” He spat the words with a vehemence that underscored his deep resentment. “If we don’t act now, he’ll tear down everything we’ve fought to protect.”

Armin looked down, wrestling with the turmoil brewing inside him. “So… you’re saying we have to kill him?” The weight of the question seemed to crush him as he forced himself to meet Levi’s gaze.

Levi’s face was unreadable as he took a steadying breath. “I don’t want it to come to that, but if that’s what it takes to stop him from slaughtering the world, then yes. We have no choice.” His tone was cold and final. “We feed him to someone we can trust.”

Mikasa’s face turned pale, her eyes widening with shock. “Captain, you can’t… we can’t just kill Eren. He’s not a monster! He’s still our friend! If we just—”

“Mikasa.” Levi’s voice was sharp, cutting through her protests with a tone that demanded attention. “You saw what he did in Liberio, what he almost did to Armin and you when he broke out. This isn’t about friendship anymore. Eren is a threat. A threat to everyone on this island.”

Jean stepped forward, his voice bitter but resolute. “Eren’s only thinking of himself, Mikasa. Whatever he’s doing, it’s not for Paradis or for us, it’s for himself and Aurora. That’s it. If we don’t stop him, he’ll destroy everything we’ve worked to protect.”

Mikasa’s fists clenched tighter, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to hold back her frustration. She understood what they were saying, could see the truth in their words, but accepting it felt like betrayal. “But he’s still Eren… if we just had more time—”

“We’re out of time,” Levi snapped, his voice colder than ever. “Eren’s not invincible. He won’t have his Jaegerist army around him every second. If I have to cut off his head myself, I will. Then we’ll have someone else take his power, someone who isn’t hell-bent on genocide.”

Armin took a shaky breath, glancing at Mikasa, whose expression was etched with pain. “But who would we give it to?”

Levi’s face darkened, a hint of frustration flashing in his eyes. “Someone who isn’t planning to tear down the world, that’s all I care about. We’ll figure out the details later, but right now, we need to find an opportunity. One slip, one moment, and we take him down. If he wants to be the devil, then we’ll deal with him like one.”

Hange, arms crossed, looked away, her jaw clenched. She’d always believed in Eren’s potential, in his spirit to fight against injustice. But now… she wasn’t sure what remained of the boy she once knew. “Levi… I hate this. But if we don’t act, the blood that’s spilled will be on our hands too.”

Connie and Sasha exchanged troubled glances, the weight of Levi’s words pressing down on them, hardening their resolve. They couldn’t stand by and watch as their friend became something unrecognizable, someone willing to destroy the world for his own vision of freedom.

But in the back of the room, Armin and Mikasa stood in silence, grappling with the reality of what Levi had just proposed. For Mikasa, the idea of harming Eren felt like tearing out a part of herself, a betrayal that went beyond words. Yet the haunted look in her eyes betrayed her growing fear—that they might not have any other choice.

Levi surveyed them all, his gaze steely and unwavering. “We move forward with this plan. We’ll find a way to end this, whatever it takes. Eren’s made his choice. Now we have to make ours.”

…

Meanwhile back at Historia’s farm, Eren stood in the center of the dimly lit room, a mixture of urgency and frustration etched into his expression as he went over plans with Floch and Historia. They were painfully aware that the threat to their mission wasn’t just Marley or the outside world. Levi and the others, the very people he once fought beside, were now just as much a danger. And Levi… Levi was the most formidable threat of all.

“He’s not just another soldier,” Eren said, his voice low and laced with intensity. “Levi’s fought more Titans than anyone. I’ve seen him take down more Titans in minutes than most can manage in their lifetime. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone—if he comes after me, he’ll be a problem, especially if he knows about the War Hammer Titan’s weaknesses.”

Floch nodded grimly. “We can overwhelm him with numbers. If it’s all the Jaegerists against one, he’ll lose eventually. But at what cost?” He hesitated, his face clouding. “He’d take down dozens, maybe hundreds, before we even have a chance to stop him. It’d be bloody, a massacre.”

Historia frowned, her brows knitting together. “We need to think this through. Levi’s not the kind of person we can outsmart with brute force. It’ll require a strategy, something more than just throwing soldiers at him.”

They fell silent, each of them wrestling with the realization that they were preparing to go up against someone who, in a way, had become almost mythical within the ranks. Levi Ackerman wasn’t just another soldier; he was Humanity’s Strongest, an unstoppable force. Eren clenched his fists, his frustration mounting as the weight of the situation sank in.

That’s when Aurora, who had been quietly listening at the edge of the room, took a step forward. All eyes turned to her, surprise flashing across their faces. She’d been listening, calculating, assessing. Now, she spoke, her voice steady and firm.

“I can handle Captain Levi,” she said simply, her gaze unwavering as she looked directly at Eren.

The room fell into a stunned silence. Floch’s jaw dropped slightly, his eyes widening in disbelief. Historia’s mouth parted as though she wanted to respond, but words failed her. And Eren… Eren looked as if he’d just heard the most ludicrous, impossible statement.

“ Aurora …” Eren’s voice was low, almost a growl. “ No. Absolutely not. ”

Aurora didn’t back down. Her gaze was fierce, a fire in her eyes that none of them had seen before. “Listen to me, Eren. Levi’s a threat—a direct threat to you and everything we’re trying to accomplish. If we don’t neutralize him, he’ll come for you eventually. I know you don’t want to risk lives… but that’s exactly why I’m offering.”

Floch broke in, his voice laced with incredulity. “Aurora, I don’t mean any disrespect, but… we’re talking about Captain Levi here. Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. Do you really think you can—”

“Yes, I do,” she interrupted, her tone fierce and unyielding. “Levi might be stronger and faster than I am, but strength isn’t the only thing that matters. I know what I’m capable of. I’ve spent years under the worst conditions, forced to survive on wit alone. I have a plan. Levi might be the strongest, but he’s not infallible.”

Eren’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his frustration bubbling over. “Aurora, I am not letting you go after him. Levi isn’t someone who’ll hesitate. If he sees you as a threat, he won’t care if you’re pregnant. He’ll kill you.”

Aurora stepped closer to him, her voice softening but remaining resolute. “And I won’t let him take you from me. You’re everything to me, Eren. If I have to do this to keep you safe, then I will.”

Eren’s heart twisted at her words, at the intensity of her conviction. She’d already shown him how far she was willing to go, the lengths she’d go to protect him, but this—this was different. “Aurora… if he even suspects what you’re planning, he’ll strike before you get the chance.”

She placed a hand on his arm, looking up at him with a mix of determination and reassurance. “Trust me, Eren. I have thought this through. I wouldn’t risk it if I didn’t believe I could succeed. Levi’s a soldier, a warrior, but I… I know how to think in ways he might not expect. I can outwit him.”

Floch, still reeling, finally found his voice. “You’re serious about this. You’re really going to go up against Captain Levi?”

She turned her gaze to Floch, and for a moment, her expression was unreadable, a hint of something fierce and dangerous flickering in her eyes. “Yes. If it means protecting Eren and our future, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Historia, who had been watching quietly, finally spoke, her voice laced with a mix of admiration and concern. “Aurora… I understand your loyalty, but this is a tremendous risk. Are you absolutely sure?”

Aurora met Historia’s gaze, nodding. “Yes. I know what I’m doing.”

Eren took a deep breath, his voice tight with emotion. “Aurora, this isn’t just about Levi. This is about you, our baby and the life we’re building. I can’t… I won’t let you throw yourself into danger for my sake.”

Aurora’s expression softened as she reached up, cupping his face gently. “Eren, I made a vow when we married. I chose to be with you, to stand by you no matter the cost. This is my choice, and I’m not backing down.”

Eren’s heart thundered in his chest, torn between the fierce love he felt for her and the instinct to keep her safe at all costs. But he could see it in her eyes, the determination, the unbreakable resolve. She wasn’t asking for permission; she was making a decision .

Finally, he nodded, albeit reluctantly. “If this is what you’re set on… then I trust you. But please, Aurora, don’t take unnecessary risks. I need you safe.”

She smiled, her fingers brushing gently across his cheek. “I promise, Eren. I’ll do what needs to be done, but I won’t risk myself needlessly. I’ll be back for you.”

Floch’s gaze shifted between them, still shaken by what he’d just heard. But beneath his initial shock, there was a flicker of something else—an understanding that Eren and Aurora were more alike than he’d realized. Both were willing to cross unimaginable lines for each other, to do whatever it took to achieve their vision of freedom and protection.

As Aurora pulled away, a sense of calm settled over her, a quiet strength radiating from within. She was ready. Levi might be Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, but she was driven by something deeper, something Levi would never understand.

Eren watched her go, his chest tight with a mix of fear and pride. He knew Aurora was capable, knew she was determined, but he couldn’t shake the gnawing worry that this plan might cost them more than they anticipated.

But if there was one thing he knew, it was that Aurora, his wife, would do everything in her power to protect him, just as he would for her.

Chapter Text

Chapter 23

The tension was palpable in the makeshift planning room. Levi stood at the head of the table, his piercing gaze sweeping over the group of scouts gathered before him. Mikasa sat silently, her head down, her fingers nervously gripping the fabric of her scarf. Armin, visibly distressed, leaned forward on the table, his hands clasped tightly as if in silent prayer. Jean, Connie, Sasha, and Hange completed the group, their expressions a mix of grim determination and deep unease.

No one wanted to be here. No one wanted to do what they were about to do. But they all knew it was necessary.

Levi’s voice was calm but unyielding as he addressed them. “This is our only chance to stop him. Eren’s actions in Liberio made it clear that he’s willing to cross any line to achieve his goal. The rumbling isn’t just a demonstration—it’s genocide on a scale this world has never seen. If we don’t stop him now, millions will die. We cannot let that happen.”

Hange sighed deeply, their voice tinged with regret. “We’ve all seen the horrors Marley inflicted on Paradis. We know what the world thinks of us. But wiping out everyone beyond the walls? That’s not the answer. There’s good out there too. We’ve seen it.”

Armin nodded, his voice soft but firm. “I still remember Ramzi, that little boy in Marley. He was just a kid, trying to survive in a cruel world. He and his family were so welcoming to us even though they were refugees with little. If we let Eren go through with this, we’re no better than the people who oppressed us.”

Jean crossed his arms, his jaw tight. “I get it. I do. But this isn’t just about stopping Eren. We’re going up against the Jaegerists too. They’re everywhere now, and there are hundreds of them at the farm. It’s not going to be easy.”

Levi’s gaze narrowed. “It’s not supposed to be easy. None of this is. But that doesn’t change the fact that it needs to be done.” He turned his attention to Mikasa, who hadn’t spoken a word since the meeting began. “Mikasa. I know this is hard for you.”

Mikasa’s head jerked up, her wide eyes filled with anguish. “Hard doesn’t even begin to describe it,” she said, her voice trembling. “Eren isn’t just family to me. He’s… he’s everything. I can’t—” She stopped, her voice breaking. “I don’t think I can hurt him.”

Levi sighed, his expression softening just slightly. “I’m not asking you to kill him. You’ll be with the others. Your job is to deal with the Jaegerists. Leave Eren to me.”

Mikasa’s eyes widened. “You’re going after him alone?”

“I don’t have a choice,” Levi replied, his voice firm. “You won’t do it, and the rest of you don’t stand a chance against him. Eren isn’t stupid. He knows we’re coming. He’ll be above ground, ready to transform the second he senses trouble. If we try to take him head-on, he’ll wipe us out.”

Hange leaned forward, their brow furrowed. “So what’s the plan, exactly? How are we going to split up?”

Levi’s gaze hardened. “Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, and Hange, you’ll handle the Jaegerists. They’re the real barrier between us and Eren. I’ll take care of him.”

Jean frowned. “Levi, even if you take him by surprise, Eren can transform in an instant. Are you sure you can handle him alone?”

“I’ve faced worse,” Levi replied curtly. “Besides, I’ve known what Eren was from the moment I met him in that cell. A monster that can’t be controlled. He’ll never bow to anyone, and he’ll destroy everything in his path to get what he wants. That’s why I’m doing this.”

Armin shook his head, his face pale. “But he’s not a monster, Levi. He’s still Eren. I know he’s gone down a dark path, but there has to be another way.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed. “This isn’t the time for sentimentality, Armin. Eren made his choice. Now we have to make ours.”

The room fell into an uneasy silence, the weight of Levi’s words sinking in. Finally, Hange stood, their voice resolute. “If this is how it has to be, then we’ll do our part. But I hope you’re wrong about him, Levi.”

Levi didn’t respond. He turned and began gathering his gear, his movements deliberate and precise. The others followed suit, the room buzzing with quiet activity as they prepared for the mission.

…

The farmhouse loomed in the distance as the group approached under the cover of darkness. Levi signaled for the others to stop, crouching low as he surveyed the area. The farm was deceptively quiet, but Levi knew better than to assume they’d gone undetected. Eren was too smart for that.

“We’re splitting up here,” Levi whispered, his voice barely audible. “Stick to the plan. Deal with the Jaegerists quickly and quietly. The longer this drags on, the more time Eren has to react.”

The others nodded, their faces grim. Mikasa lingered for a moment, her gaze fixed on the farmhouse. “Captain… don’t kill him if you don’t have to.”

Levi didn’t respond, his eyes hard as steel. He adjusted his gear and disappeared into the shadows, leaving the rest of them to their task.

As they crept closer to the farmhouse, the tension in the air was suffocating. Mikasa’s heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing with memories of Eren—the boy she’d grown up with, the man she’d sworn to protect. She clenched her fists, steeling herself for what was to come.

The tension in the air was suffocating as Hange signaled her team to advance. Jean, Connie, Sasha, Armin, and Mikasa followed closely, their ODM gear primed for combat. The night was eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that sets every nerve on edge. The intelligence they had received pointed to a secret stronghold of the Jaegerists hidden beneath Queen Historia’s farm. If they could strike here, they would deal a devastating blow to Eren's faction by capturing not only his wife and Floch but even Queen Historia herself.

Hange’s voice was calm but firm as she whispered, “Remember the plan. Stay sharp. They won’t go down without a fight.”

Jean clenched his fists. “We’ve got this.”

Armin looked pale but resolute. Mikasa, however, was uncharacteristically tense, her hand gripping her blades tightly. Her thoughts were entirely on Eren. If Levi succeeded in dealing with him above ground, this fight would determine everything.

As they approached the large, steel-reinforced door embedded into the earth, Hange gestured for Sasha and Connie to place the charges. Moments later, the deafening sound of the blast shattered the silence, and thick smoke filled the air as a smoke bomb was thrown inside. The team flew in using their ODM gear, prepared for an intense battle.

But there was nothing.

The room was empty.

“What the hell?” Jean’s voice echoed through the cavernous space as his blades gleamed in the dim light.

Hange’s eyes darted around, scanning the area for signs of life. “Stay alert! This has to be a trap.”

Before anyone could respond, the ground trembled beneath them, and then it happened—a flash of blinding white light as a titan transformation erupted, illuminating the bunker like a miniature sun. The sheer force of it knocked several of them off balance, and a deafening roar reverberated through the air.

But Eren didn’t transform into his titan body. Instead, a massive structure of hardened crystal burst forth from the ground, encasing Hange, Jean, Connie, Sasha, and Armin in an instant. Their shocked faces were frozen behind the translucent barrier, their weapons useless against its impenetrable surface.

Mikasa, however, reacted instinctively, her Ackerman blood driving her reflexes. She fired her grappling hook upward, narrowly avoiding the crystallization as she swung to safety and anchored herself to the ceiling. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked down in horror at her comrades, now trapped and helpless.

“Eren!” Mikasa’s voice was filled with anguish as she spotted him standing calmly in the center of the bunker. His expression was cold, detached, as if the people he had just trapped were nothing more than obstacles in his path.

“Why are you doing this?!” she demanded, her voice breaking.

Eren’s gaze met hers, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something—regret, sorrow—but it vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. His voice was low and steady as he said, “This is the only way.”

Mikasa’s blood ran cold. What did he mean? And why was he here, underground, instead of above ground where Levi was supposed to confront him?

Panic gripped her. If Eren was down here, then who the hell was Levi fighting above ground ?

…

Levi moved silently through the farmhouse above, his blades ready. The place was deserted, eerily so. Every room he checked was empty, but he refused to let his guard down. This was Eren he was dealing with. If anyone could pull off a misdirection like this, it was him.

As he approached the last door at the end of the hallway, he paused. There was movement inside. His hand hovered over the doorknob for a moment as he listened carefully. The faint sound of a rocking chair creaking reached his ears.

Levi placed his hand around the doorknob and pushed the door open cautiously, his grip firm on his blades. What met his eyes wasn’t what he expected.

Sitting calmly in a wooden rocking chair, her hands resting lightly on her lap, was Aurora Jaeger. She looked at him with an expression of serene defiance, her platinum blonde hair glinting in the dim light. The juxtaposition of her calm demeanor against the chaos Levi knew was happening above ground only unsettled him further.

“What the hell is this supposed to be?” Levi growled, his eyes narrowing. His instincts screamed at him not to underestimate her, no matter how unassuming she appeared.

Aurora didn’t flinch. She tilted her head slightly, her blue eyes locking with his. “Captain Levi,” she said softly, her voice carrying an unsettling calm. “I assume you’re looking for my husband.”

“Don’t play coy,” Levi snapped, his blades rising slightly. “Where is Eren?”

Aurora didn’t answer, her gaze steady but unreadable. Her silence only fueled Levi’s frustration. He took a step closer, pointing one of his blades directly at her.

“I’m not in the mood for games,” Levi warned. “If you don’t start talking, I’ll end this right here.”

For the first time, Aurora’s calm exterior faltered, but not out of fear. Her lips pressed together in a look that could almost be described as remorseful. “Eren is fighting for Paradis,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Like you should be.”

Levi’s jaw tightened, his grip on his blades firming. “Don’t give me that bullshit,” he spat. “Committing genocide isn’t ‘fighting for Paradis.’ It’s cowardice. It’s monstrous. And you? You’re just as much of a monster as your husband.”

Aurora flinched slightly at the word “monster,” but she held her ground. Her voice was steady as she responded, “You don’t understand. You couldn’t possibly. Do you know what it’s like to live as a slave in Marley? To be treated as less than human? The world wants to slaughter us all, Captain Levi. We don’t have a choice.”

Levi let out a derisive scoff, his eyes cold and unyielding. “Don’t talk to me about hard lives,” he snapped. “We’ve all suffered. We’ve all lost people. But that doesn’t make mass murder okay. There’s always a choice, Aurora. And you chose this path. Don’t try to paint it as anything else.”

Aurora’s eyes flickered with a mix of defiance and sadness. “The world has never given me a choice,” she said quietly. “The only person who has ever cared about me—truly cared—is Eren. He’s the only one who’s ever seen me as more than a tool or a burden. Even if the world sees him as a devil, I still love him.”

Levi sneered. “That’s pathetic,” he spat, taking another step closer. “ You’re pathetic . Hiding behind your excuses, clinging to him like he’s your lifeline. You know what I see when I look at you? A killer. A cold-blooded killer who murdered the premier and framed some poor idiot kid for your crimes. At least have the guts to own it.”

Aurora stiffened, her hands clenching in her lap. For a moment, Levi thought he saw a flicker of guilt in her eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. “I did what I had to do,” she said, her voice firm. “For Eren. For our family. And I don’t regret it.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed as he closed the distance between them, his blades mere inches from her now. He didn’t like how calm she was, how unshaken she seemed. His instincts screamed at him that she was up to something.

Aurora’s lips curled into a faint, bittersweet smile. “You’re a meticulous man, Captain,” she said suddenly, her tone shifting. “I noticed it from the day we met on the airship. You double-check everything, don’t you? Every detail, every movement. It’s admirable.”

Levi’s brow furrowed. “You want a medal for your observation skills?”

Aurora let out a soft, humorless chuckle. “No,” she said, her smile fading. “I just wanted to point out that your meticulous nature is what brought about your defeat today.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed further. “What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded.

Then he felt it. A strange tingling sensation began to spread through his body, starting at his fingers and toes. His muscles started to stiffen, locking up despite his efforts to fight it. The blade in his hand slipped from his grip, clattering to the floor as his legs buckled beneath him.

“What…” Levi’s voice was strained, his breathing labored as he fought against the paralysis overtaking him.

Aurora rose slowly from the rocking chair, her movements deliberate and composed. She walked toward Levi, her hands still resting lightly on her abdomen.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” she said softly, crouching in front of him as he struggled to stay upright. “I didn’t want it to come to this. But I have to protect my family.”

Levi’s eyes burned with fury as he glared up at her. “What… did you do?” he hissed through gritted teeth.

Aurora’s gaze was steady, almost apologetic. “Aconite… or you might know it better as Wolfsbane ,” she admitted quietly. “A paralytic. I coated it on all the doorknobs you’ve been touching since you entered the farmhouse. It’s not lethal,” she added, as if that made it better. “But still, this is the end for you.”

Levi’s head spun as his body grew heavier with every passing second. He cursed himself bitterly, anger and frustration boiling beneath his frozen exterior. His instincts had screamed at him not to trust Aurora, yet he had hesitated. Now here he was, paralyzed on the ground and at her mercy.

His vision swam as Aurora knelt beside him, her face calm yet tinged with regret. Her fingers were deft and steady as she pulled out a syringe from her herbalist's bag. Levi’s heart sank when he saw the viscous liquid inside.

“This is my special elixir,” Aurora said softly, almost apologetically, holding the syringe up for Levi to see. “I developed it on accident you know. But it has been quite useful to Eren and I. I modified it for you though, I don’t want you to suffer. It’ll quick and painless, but effective. I’m sorry, Captain, truly. But this is a cruel world, and I can’t let you kill Eren.”

Levi’s teeth clenched as he fought against the paralysis. He tried to will his body to move, to grab the blade lying uselessly on the floor beside him, but nothing responded. The humiliation of being rendered powerless, the anger at himself for underestimating her—it all burned within him.

“I should’ve… killed you… the second I walked in,” Levi forced out through gritted teeth, his voice rasping and weak.

Aurora paused, her hand trembling slightly as she held the syringe. “Maybe you should have,” she admitted, her voice thick with emotion. “But even though I don’t want to, I have to do this. You’re not just some enemy, Captain. Eren respects you. He used to look up to you. I didn’t want it to end like this.”

Levi glared at her, his eyes blazing with fury even as his body betrayed him. “Don’t you dare… justify this…”

Aurora’s expression hardened. “This is about survival,” she said quietly, pressing the syringe to his arm. “I have to protect my family.”

Just as she began to push the plunger, the door burst open with a deafening crash. Aurora barely had time to turn her head before a blur of black and red stormed into the room.

“Mikasa,” Levi rasped, his voice barely audible as relief and dread warred within him.

Mikasa Ackerman moved with lightning speed, her blade already drawn and pointed at Aurora. She kicked the syringe from Aurora’s hand, sending it skidding across the floor, then slammed Aurora back into the wall with a single, powerful strike. Aurora cried out in pain, crumpling to the floor as she clutched her abdomen protectively.

Mikasa didn’t give Aurora time to recover. Her blade hovered inches from Aurora’s throat as she snarled, “You’re done.”

Aurora coughed, her breath shallow as she looked up at Mikasa with a defiant glare. But before Mikasa could do anything else,, a deafening rumble shook the farmhouse. The floor trembled beneath their feet as a familiar white light illuminated the room.

“Eren…” Mikasa whispered, her blood running cold. She knew he had followed her up here .

The wall beside them crumbled as Eren Jaeger stepped into the room, his expression cold and unreadable. His partial titan transformation dissipated as he walked forward, his piercing green eyes locking onto Mikasa and Aurora.

Behind him, Floch and a group of Jaegerists stormed in, their rifles drawn and their expressions fierce. The air was thick with tension as Eren’s gaze shifted to Mikasa, then to Levi’s prone form on the floor.

“Mikasa,” Eren said, his voice low and laced with warning. “Let her go.”

Mikasa didn’t move, her blade still poised above Aurora. Her heart ached as she looked at Eren, the man she had known since childhood, now a stranger to her.

“Eren, stop this,” Mikasa pleaded, her voice trembling. “You don’t have to do this. We can find another way.”

“There is no other way,” Eren said flatly, his eyes hardening. “Let her go, Mikasa.”

Mikasa’s hands shook as she glanced down at Aurora, who was still crumpled on the floor, her breathing ragged. Mikasa’s instincts screamed at her to act, to end this here and now, but the overwhelming presence of Eren and his Jaegerists left her with no options.

Eren’s expression darkened when Mikasa didn’t lower her blade. “I won’t ask again.”

Tears stung Mikasa’s eyes as she realized there was no reasoning with him. With a sharp inhale, she made her decision. In one swift motion, she sheathed her blade, scooped Levi’s limp body into her arms, and darted toward the nearest window.

“Mikasa!” Floch shouted, raising his rifle, but Eren raised a hand to stop him.

“Let her go,” Eren said, his voice devoid of emotion. “She won’t get far.”

Mikasa smashed through the window with her ODM gear, the wind rushing past her as she soared into the night. She clutched Levi tightly, her heart pounding as she landed on the roof and darted toward the treeline where her horse was waiting.

Aurora sat up slowly, wincing as she cradled her abdomen. Eren was at her side in an instant, his hands gentle as he checked her for injuries.

“Are you okay?” Eren asked, his voice soft but filled with urgency.

Aurora nodded weakly. “I’m fine. The baby’s fine,” she assured him, though her voice wavered.

Eren exhaled deeply, his hands trembling slightly as he helped her to her feet. He turned to Floch, his eyes blazing with fury. “Find them,” he ordered. “But don’t engage. Just track them.”

Floch nodded and signaled to his men, who immediately set off into the forest.

Eren’s attention returned to Aurora, his gaze softening as he gently cupped her face. “I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he promised, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not Levi, not Mikasa. No one.”

Aurora leaned into his touch, her own hand resting on his chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I almost…”

Eren silenced her with a kiss, his lips pressing firmly against hers as if to reassure her that everything would be okay. When he pulled back, his eyes were fierce with determination.

“We’re in this together,” Eren said firmly.

Eren cradled Aurora in his arms, his steps steady but urgent as he carried her toward the farmhouse’s small medical room. She leaned against his chest, her breath shallow but steady, her arms weakly wrapped around his neck. His jaw was tight, his emerald eyes flickering with unspoken emotions. He didn’t want things to go this far—Aurora almost killing Levi, Mikasa turning her blade on Aurora, and his former comrades actively opposing him. But deep down, he knew it was inevitable.

His friends would never understand. They couldn’t see what he saw.

Aurora opened her eyes slightly, her fingers brushing against his chest. “Eren…” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry… I didn’t want it to come to this.”

Eren’s grip on her tightened as he shook his head. “Don’t apologize,” he said firmly, his voice low but filled with conviction. “You did what you had to do to protect us. I just… I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

Aurora’s lips trembled, but she nodded. “I love you, Eren,” she whispered, her voice cracking with exhaustion and emotion.

Eren leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I love you too,” he replied, his voice barely audible. “I’ll protect you and our baby, no matter what it takes.”

When they reached the medical room, one of the Jaegerist medics hurried over, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of Aurora in Eren’s arms. Eren laid Aurora down gently on the cot, his hands lingering for a moment as if reluctant to let her go.

“Make sure she and the baby are okay,” Eren said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The medic nodded quickly, already beginning her examination.

…

Meanwhile, Historia Finds Eren

Outside the farmhouse, Historia paced anxiously. She had heard what happened—how Mikasa had intervened and how Levi had barely escaped. The events were spiraling further out of control, and even she was beginning to feel the weight of Eren’s plan. When Eren emerged from the medical room, his face was a mask of stoicism, but Historia knew him well enough to see the tension in his clenched jaw and burning gaze.

“Eren,” she called, stepping forward. “We need to talk.”

Eren stopped, his sharp eyes locking onto hers. “What is it?”

Historia crossed her arms, her voice steady but edged with concern. “What are we going to do about Hange, Armin, Jean, Connie, and Sasha? They’re still crystallized underground, aren’t they?”

Eren’s expression darkened slightly, his eyes narrowing. “They’re alive, but they can’t interfere. I made sure of that.”

“You know they’re conscious in there, don’t you?” Historia pressed. “They’re aware of everything.”

“I know,” Eren replied coldly. “But if they had their way, they’d try to stop me. I can’t allow that.”

Historia frowned, her blue eyes searching his face. “They’re our friends, Eren. Do you really want this?”

Eren’s voice was calm but firm. “What I want doesn’t matter. What matters is protecting Paradis. They don’t understand what’s at stake. I’ve already seen the future, Historia. If we don’t act, we all die. Every last one of us.”

Historia bit her lip, conflicted. She had always trusted Eren, especially after everything they had endured together, but even she felt the weight of his decisions pressing down on her. “And Aurora?” she asked softly. “Is she okay?”

Eren’s gaze softened slightly, the hardness in his eyes momentarily fading. “She’ll be fine. Right now, I just need her safe.”

Historia sighed, shaking her head. “Fine. But what about phase two? If you want this to work, I need to address the public. The citizens already see you as their savior, but we need to cement their support.”

Eren nodded. “Do it. Announce that the Jaegerists have officially taken over the Scout Regiment. The Garrison and Military Police are next. Once we have the people on our side, there’s nothing the remaining military can do to stop us.”

Historia hesitated for a moment before nodding. “I’ll prepare the announcement.”

As Historia walked away, Eren leaned against the wooden railing of the farmhouse porch, staring out at the fields surrounding them. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The events of the past few hours replayed in his head—Mikasa’s blade pointed at Aurora, Levi’s narrowed eyes full of suspicion, and the knowledge that his former friends would never stand by his side.

They didn’t understand. They couldn’t. He had seen the future. He had seen the destruction that awaited Paradis if he didn’t act. The world wouldn’t stop until every last one of them was wiped out. He had no choice but to move forward, even if it meant crushing those he once cared about.

His thoughts drifted to Aurora. The guilt she carried was palpable, and he hated that she had to bear it. He knew she had killed the Premier to protect him, but he also knew the burden of that act weighed heavily on her conscience. She wasn’t like him. She wasn’t hardened by years of fighting and loss. But she was strong in her own way—strong enough to stand by him, to protect their family, even when the world was against them.

Eren’s fists clenched at his sides. He wouldn’t let anyone take her away from him. Not Levi, not Mikasa, not the military. Aurora and their unborn child were his entire world now, and he would burn the rest of it to the ground to keep them safe.

…

The next morning, Historia stood on a makeshift stage in the center of Capital Mitras. A crowd had gathered, their murmurs of curiosity and anticipation filling the air. Behind her stood Floch and several Jaegerists, their presence a clear show of strength and solidarity.

Historia took a deep breath, her hands steady as she gripped the edges of the podium. “Citizens of Paradis,” she began, her voice carrying across the square. “We stand at a crossroads in our history. For too long, we have been oppressed, threatened, and treated as monsters by the rest of the world. But no more. Today, I stand before you as your Queen to declare a new path forward—a path led by the man who has proven himself to be our savior, Eren Jaeger.”

The crowd erupted into cheers, their voices rising in a chorus of support. Historia waited for the noise to die down before continuing. “The Jaegerists have officially taken control of the Scout Regiment, and we are working to unite the remaining military branches under one cause. Together, we will secure the future of Paradis and ensure our survival.”

As the crowd cheered once more, Eren watched from the sidelines, his expression unreadable. Aurora stood beside him as she listened to Historia’s speech. She felt a mix of pride and apprehension—pride in Eren’s determination but fear for what lay ahead.

Eren leaned down, his voice low as he whispered in her ear, “This is just the beginning.”

Aurora nodded, her grip tightening on his arm. “I know,” she said softly. “I trust you, Eren.”

As the crowd’s cheers grew louder, Eren’s resolve hardened. There was no turning back now.

Chapter Text

Chapter 24

Mikasa's horse galloped into the dense woods, the rhythmic pounding of its hooves muffled by the thick underbrush. The sun was beginning to set, casting an orange glow over the trees. Mikasa clutched Levi tightly to keep him from slipping off. His body was limp, his usually sharp gaze dulled, and his breathing was shallow. She dared not stop for too long. The Jaegerists might still be pursuing her, and Eren… No, she couldn’t think about him right now. Her priority was Levi.

As the woods thickened, Mikasa spotted a small clearing near a shallow river. She dismounted and carefully lowered Levi onto the soft ground. His body was eerily still. The veins on his neck and hands were an unnatural purple, and his fingers curled inward as if paralyzed. His chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, and his once sharp, calculating eyes were bloodshot.

"Captain…" Mikasa knelt beside him, her voice trembling. "Stay with me. You’re going to be okay."

Levi let out a faint groan, his head lolling to the side. His lips were dry, and a faint sheen of sweat covered his forehead. Mikasa grabbed her water canteen, unscrewing the lid with shaking hands, and gently tipped it to his mouth. He sipped weakly, some of the water spilling down his chin.

“Drink,” she urged, brushing his sweat-soaked hair back from his forehead. “You need to hydrate.”

Levi coughed faintly but managed to swallow a bit more. His voice, raspy and weak, broke through the quiet. "Mikasa… You need… to run…"

"Don’t talk!" Mikasa said sharply, her tone betraying her panic. "You’re poisoned. You need to rest."

Levi’s lips twitched into the faintest shadow of a smirk. "Still… not listening to my orders, huh?"

Mikasa’s heart clenched. Levi was strong—too strong to be reduced to this state. The image of Aurora injecting him flashed through her mind, and her hand clenched the canteen so tightly she thought it might crack.

The riverbank provided little solace. Mikasa scanned her surroundings, ensuring they weren’t being followed, then wet her scarf in the cool water and pressed it against Levi’s forehead. His skin was clammy and pale, a sharp contrast to the angry purple veins that spread like cracks in a fragile surface.

Her mind raced as she worked. Aurora. The name burned in her thoughts like a hot iron. That woman—she was the one behind this. Levi had been right. Aurora was dangerous, more dangerous than any of them had realized. Mikasa couldn’t stop replaying the image of Aurora, so calm, so methodical, as she injected Levi. It was infuriating.

Mikasa’s grip on the scarf tightened, and her teeth clenched. “This is all her fault,” she muttered under her breath.

Levi stirred faintly, his voice barely audible. “Focus, Mikasa…”

Mikasa forced herself to take a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to let her emotions get the better of her. She needed a plan. But the truth was, she was overwhelmed. Eren had crystallized her friends—Armin, Hange, Jean, Connie, Sasha. They were alive, but trapped in that hardened crystal cocoon. She had no way to free them. She had barely escaped herself, and now Levi was on the brink of death.

Her thoughts spiraled as she stared at the river, her reflection trembling in the water. For so long, she had believed in Eren. Even as he grew more distant, even as he made decisions she couldn’t understand, she had believed in him. But now… How had it come to this?

“I should have stopped him,” she whispered to herself, her voice breaking. “I should have—”

Her thoughts were interrupted by Levi’s hoarse voice. “Don’t… blame yourself…”

Mikasa blinked, surprised that Levi had heard her. He opened his bloodshot eyes slightly, the sharpness in them dimmed but still present. “Eren… made his choice. This… isn’t your fault.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Mikasa’s eyes. “But why, Captain? Why is he doing this? He’s not the Eren I know. He’s not—”

Levi grunted weakly. “Eren… has always been like this. You just… didn’t want to see it.”

Mikasa fell silent, her chest tightening. Levi’s words cut deep because they were true. Eren had always been stubborn, single-minded, and willing to go to any lengths to achieve his goals. But she had always believed that deep down, he was still the same boy who had fought to protect his friends, who had dreamed of freedom.

Her fists clenched. “It’s her,” she said bitterly. “Aurora. She’s manipulating him. I know it.”

Levi’s lips twitched into a faint, humorless smile. “You think… Eren can be manipulated? Mikasa… don’t be stupid.”

Mikasa’s breath caught in her throat. She wanted to argue, to insist that Aurora was the reason Eren had changed, but Levi’s words stopped her. Deep down, she knew he was right. Eren was acting on his own will. Aurora hadn’t forced him into anything. But that didn’t make it any easier to accept.

As Levi’s breathing grew shallower, Mikasa’s panic returned. She pressed her hand against his forehead. He was burning up. His body was fighting the poison, but it wasn’t enough. He needed help, and there was only one person who had the antidote.

Aurora.

Mikasa’s jaw tightened. The thought of going back, of begging that woman for help, made her stomach churn. But she couldn’t let Levi die. No matter how much she hated Aurora, she couldn’t let her emotions cloud her judgment. She had to do what was best for her comrades.

Levi’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Mikasa…”

“I’m here,” she said quickly, leaning closer to him.

His bloodshot eyes locked onto hers. “Don’t… make it personal. Focus… on the mission…”

Mikasa nodded, though her heart was heavy. Levi was right. She couldn’t let her emotions dictate her actions. She had to think clearly, to strategize. But as she stared at Levi’s weakened form, her resolve hardened.

She would save Levi. And she would make Aurora pay for what she had done.

The night deepened around them, the sounds of the forest mingling with the rush of the river. Mikasa knew they couldn’t stay here for long. The Jaegerists would come looking for them, and she needed to get Levi to a safe place. But as she mounted her horse once more, cradling Levi’s limp body in her arms, she couldn’t shake the burning anger in her chest.

Eren. Aurora. The Jaegerists. They had taken everything from her. But she wouldn’t let them win. Not this time.

…

Meanwhile, the atmosphere at Historia’s farm was charged with tension as the Jaegerists stood in formation, armed and ready. The once peaceful farmland had transformed into a heavily guarded compound, brimming with soldiers loyal to Eren Jaeger. The three remaining commanders—Pyxis, Shadis, and Nile—stood bound and at gunpoint, their faces a mixture of disappointment, rage, and resignation.

Floch stood at the forefront, his posture radiating confidence and arrogance. Behind him, Eren loomed, his expression cold and unreadable. The sight of the three commanders bound and defenseless was met with an eerie silence from the surrounding soldiers. Even the Jaegerists knew this was a pivotal moment in their rebellion.

Commander Pyxis’s voice was the first to break the silence. His calm, almost fatherly tone carried a weight that silenced the murmurs among the soldiers. "Eren, I never thought I’d live to see this day. To see the young boy I trusted with so much potential turn into the man who would point a gun at the very people who guided him."

Eren’s face remained impassive. He crossed his arms, his green eyes sharp and unyielding. "This isn’t about the past, Commander. This is about the future. A future where Eldians are no longer hunted like animals."

Pyxis raised an eyebrow, his disappointment evident. "At what cost, Eren? You call this liberation? Forcing others to bend to your will, betraying your comrades, and holding your own people hostage? This isn’t freedom—it’s tyranny."

Shadis, standing to Pyxis’s left, glared at Eren with pure disdain. "You’re a disgrace," he spat. "I trained you. I thought I was shaping a soldier who would defend humanity, not destroy it. You’re no better than the monsters in Marley."

Floch stepped forward, his voice dripping with disdain. "You old fools just don’t get it, do you? This isn’t the same world you were fighting for. Eren is the only one who understands what’s at stake. He’s the only one willing to do what needs to be done!"

Commander Nile’s lips pressed into a thin line as he surveyed the scene. Unlike Pyxis and Shadis, his focus was on the soldiers around them. Many of these young recruits, cadets barely out of training, looked unsure and fearful. Nile knew the tides had turned—most of the Garrison and the MPs had already defected to the Jaegerists. Resistance was futile.

"Eren," Nile said, his voice steady despite the situation. "Do you really believe this is the only way? That you have to dismantle everything we’ve built to secure Paradis’s future?"

Eren’s gaze flicked to Nile, but his expression didn’t waver. "What we’ve built is a house of cards. It was never going to last. The world will come for us, and when they do, I’ll make sure they regret it."

Pyxis sighed heavily. "And what of your humanity, Eren? Are you so blinded by your vision that you’re willing to destroy everything that makes you human?"

Eren’s jaw tightened, but before he could respond, Floch raised his voice to address the gathered soldiers. His tone was full of fervor, bordering on fanaticism. "Enough of this nonsense! Today, we stand on the brink of a new era. The old ways are dead, and we will not let relics like Pyxis, Shadis, and Nile hold us back! Eren Jaeger is the savior of Eldia, and we will dedicate our hearts to him and the liberation of our people!"

A resounding cheer erupted from the Jaegerists, their fists pounding against their chests in the salute of the Survey Corps. " Shinzou wo Sasageyo! " they shouted in unison, their voices echoing across the compound.

Floch turned to the bound commanders, his grin sharp and unrelenting. "You have two choices: join us or die. The Garrison and the MPs are already ours. Your resistance means nothing."

Pyxis met Floch’s gaze with a weary but unwavering stare. "You’re a fool if you think this will end well, young man. Tyrants never last."

Floch’s smirk only widened. "Good thing we’re not tyrants. We’re revolutionaries."

The cadets under Shadis’s command looked visibly shaken. Many of them exchanged nervous glances, unsure of what to do. One young soldier stepped forward hesitantly, his voice trembling. "Commander Shadis… what should we do?"

Shadis’s eyes softened as he looked at the cadet, his expression filled with regret. "Do what you believe is right," he said simply. "But know that following Eren Jaeger down this path will only lead to bloodshed and despair."

The cadet hesitated, glancing between Shadis and the Jaegerists. Floch’s sharp voice cut through the tension. "The time for hesitation is over. If you’re not with us, you’re against us!"

Eren finally spoke, his voice low but commanding. "Enough. They’ve made their decision." His gaze swept over the commanders, his tone devoid of emotion. "Bind them and take them to the holding cells. We don’t have time to waste."

Floch nodded and barked orders to the Jaegerists. Soldiers stepped forward, guns trained on the commanders as they were led away. Pyxis, Shadis, and Nile remained stoic, their expressions a mixture of resignation and defiance.

As the commanders were escorted away, Eren turned to Floch. "Tell Historia to prepare the announcement. The people need to know that the Jaegerists are now in control. This is only the beginning."

Floch nodded, he looked invigorated, as if this moment had solidified his purpose.

Eren’s gaze lingered on the Jaegerists, his expression unreadable. "This isn’t about power," he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. "It’s about survival. And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my people."

Floch turned to the cadets, his voice booming once again. "Today, you join the ranks of the Jaegerists! Together, we will fight for the liberation of the New Eldian Empire! Dedicate your hearts to Eren Jaeger and the salvation of our people!"

The cadets hesitated for only a moment before reluctantly raising their fists in salute. " Shinzou wo Sasageyo! " they shouted, their voices lacking the fervor of the seasoned Jaegerists.

Eren’s green eyes darkened as he watched the scene unfold. He had no illusions about the path he had chosen. It was paved with blood and sacrifice. But as far as he was concerned, there was no other way.

…

Upstairs Aurora sat by the large window in Historia’s farmhouse, her fingers delicately mixing ingredients into vials as she worked on perfecting her elixirs. The sun filtered through the glass, casting a soft glow over the small table cluttered with dried herbs, powders, and tools. She felt Historia’s eyes on her but said nothing, her focus entirely on her work. A soft breeze carried the distant sounds of the Jaegerists’ cheers outside, but to Aurora, it felt as though the room was insulated from the world beyond.

Historia shifted in her chair, her concern evident as she watched Aurora work in silence. “You’ve been quiet,” Historia finally said, her voice gentle but probing. “What’s on your mind?”

Aurora paused, her hand hovering over a small vial. She bit her lip, debating whether to speak her truth. "It's nothing," she said quickly, but the tremble in her voice betrayed her.

Historia frowned, not convinced. “Aurora,” she said firmly, leaning forward. “You can talk to me. Whatever it is, you’ve been carrying it for days now.”

Aurora let out a shaky sigh and placed the vial down. She leaned back in her chair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “It’s Captain Levi,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “And the Premier.”

Historia’s brow furrowed. “You mean…?”

Aurora nodded, her gaze fixed on the floor. “I nearly killed Captain Levi,” she said, her voice cracking. “And I did kill the Premier. I didn’t want to, Historia. I didn’t want to do any of it.”

Historia's expression softened, and she reached out to place a comforting hand on Aurora's shoulder. “You did what you thought you had to,” she said. “This is war. None of us want to make these choices, but sometimes we don’t have a choice.”

Aurora shook her head, her hands trembling. “But that’s just it. I don’t want to be this person. I don’t want to be someone who takes lives. But every time I think about Eren…about our child…” She swallowed hard, tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stop. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect them. Even if it means becoming someone I hate.”

Historia’s grip tightened slightly, her own expression grim. “You’re not alone in feeling that way. Do you think I don’t lie awake at night thinking about the people I’ve had to betray just to survive? To keep this island safe?” She sighed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “But if you’re doing it for the people you love…for the future you believe in…doesn’t that make it worth it?”

Aurora looked up at her, her expression conflicted. “Does it?” she whispered. “Levi called me pathetic. And maybe he’s right. Maybe I am pathetic for justifying all of this. But the world outside…they want to kill us, Historia. They’ll slaughter us if we don’t fight back.”

Historia sat back in her chair, her gaze thoughtful. “Levi’s a soldier, Aurora. He’s seen more death and destruction than most of us can imagine. He doesn’t see the world the same way you or I do. And he certainly doesn’t understand what it means to have a family to protect.”

Aurora’s hand instinctively went to her stomach, her expression softening. “I didn’t want to kill him,” she murmured. “I didn’t want to kill anyone . But if it comes down to Eren’s life…or mine…or our baby’s…” Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. “I’ll do what I have to. Every time.”

Historia gave her a sad smile. “You’re stronger than you think, Aurora. Stronger than most people I’ve met.”

Aurora let out a humorless laugh. “It doesn’t feel like strength. It feels like survival.”

Before Historia could respond, a loud cheer erupted from outside, breaking the somber mood in the room. Both women turned to look out the window, where they could see the Jaegerists rallying in the courtyard below. Floch was addressing the soldiers, his voice carrying even through the closed window.

Aurora turned back to her work, her resolve hardening. She picked up a new vial and began carefully measuring ingredients. “I need to finish these elixirs,” she said, her tone more determined now. “If I can make them more potent, they’ll give the Jaegerists an edge when Marley comes for us.”

Historia watched her quietly for a moment before nodding. “Do what you need to do. But, Aurora…don’t lose yourself in this.”

Aurora didn’t respond, her focus entirely on her work. But Historia’s words lingered in her mind, a quiet echo in the growing storm of her thoughts.

As the hours passed, Aurora worked tirelessly, refining her elixirs and documenting her findings in her notebook. She used some of the indigenous plants she had discovered on Paradis, experimenting with combinations to enhance stamina and recovery. Her hands moved with practiced precision, but her mind was a whirlwind of emotions.

The memory of Levi’s glare haunted her. The way he had called her pathetic, the disdain in his voice—it cut deeper than she cared to admit. But she pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. She had no room for doubt, not now. Not when everything was at stake.

By the time she finished, the table was covered in neatly arranged vials, each labeled and ready for distribution. Aurora leaned back in her chair, exhausted but satisfied. For now, she had done everything she could.

She glanced out the window at the courtyard below, where Eren was speaking to a group of Jaegerists. His voice was steady, his presence commanding. Aurora felt a pang of longing as she watched him, wishing she could be by his side. But she knew her place was here, ensuring their soldiers were as prepared as possible.

Taking a deep breath, Aurora stood and began gathering her things. The weight of her actions and their consequences still hung heavy on her, but she couldn’t afford to falter. Not now. She had a family to protect, and she would do whatever it took to keep them safe—even if it meant continuing down this dark and treacherous path.

…

The night had settled over the farmhouse, cloaking the world outside in a deep, restless quiet. Inside, Aurora was seated at her workbench, her brow furrowed in concentration. Her hands moved almost mechanically, grinding herbs into powders and mixing liquids with precision. The room was dimly lit by a single lantern, the flickering flame casting long, restless shadows across the walls.

Aurora’s mind was anything but quiet. The guilt she had been suppressing all day gnawed at her, making her chest tight and her hands tremble. She didn’t want to stop working, didn’t want to sit still for even a moment, because she knew the second she did, her thoughts would catch up to her.

Her hands stilled for a brief moment as the memory of Levi’s frozen expression flashed in her mind. The sound of the syringe snapping when Mikasa intervened. The venom in Levi’s voice when he called her pathetic. And then there was the Premier… She had killed him without hesitation, her instincts overridden by the desperate need to protect Eren.

Her thoughts spiraled until a familiar voice broke through. “Aurora,” Eren called softly from the doorway, his tone gentle but firm. She flinched, startled, and turned to see him leaning against the frame, his arms crossed and his expression heavy with concern.

“You’re still at it,” he said, stepping into the room. His presence seemed to fill the space, grounding her even as her heart raced. “You’ve been at this all day. You need to rest.”

Aurora shook her head, turning back to her work. “I can’t rest,” she murmured, her voice low and strained. “I need to finish this. If I stop—”

Eren walked up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, cutting her off. His grip was firm but comforting, his warmth seeping through the fabric of her dress. “If you stop, you’ll spiral,” he finished for her. “I know. But you need to stop anyway, for your sake and for the baby’s.”

Aurora stiffened at his words, guilt creeping in again. “I can’t,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “If I rest, all I’ll think about is what I’ve done. The Premier, Levi… everything.”

Eren sighed deeply, his hands sliding down to gently take hers. He turned her around to face him, and her eyes met his, brimming with unshed tears. “Aurora,” he said softly, his voice filled with an almost unbearable tenderness. “You’ve done what you had to do. What we’ve had to do. I told you I’d carry the weight of this, didn’t I?”

She nodded, but the tears spilled over anyway. “But it’s not just your weight, Eren. It’s mine too. I made those choices. I took those lives.”

He reached up, brushing a tear away with his thumb. “And you did it for me. For us. For our future.” His voice hardened slightly, though not unkindly. “Don’t let their judgments make you doubt yourself. The world won’t forgive us, Aurora. But we don’t need it to.”

Aurora closed her eyes, leaning into his touch as her resolve faltered. She was exhausted, body and soul, and he could see it. Gently, Eren tugged her to her feet. “Come to bed,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “You need sleep. I can see it in your eyes.”

At first, Aurora hesitated, her gaze flickering to the unfinished elixirs on the table. But Eren’s steady presence was too much to resist, and she finally nodded, letting him guide her out of the room.

The bedroom was dim and quiet, the only sound the soft rustling of the sheets as they settled into bed. Eren lay behind Aurora, his arm draped protectively over her waist, pulling her close. She could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing against her back, and for a moment, it almost felt like the weight of the world didn’t exist.

But her mind wouldn’t stop. “Eren,” she whispered into the dark, her voice tentative.

“Hmm?” he responded, his hand gently stroking her arm.

“What about your friends?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly. “Armin, Hange, Jean, Connie, Sasha… They’re still trapped in that crystal. They’re conscious in there, right? It must be torture.”

Eren didn’t respond immediately. His silence was heavy, and Aurora felt her chest tighten.

“They’ll stay there,” he said finally, his tone quiet but resolute. “I can’t risk them getting in the way of our plans.”

“But…” Aurora’s voice broke, and she turned her head slightly to glance at him over her shoulder. “What about Mikasa and Levi? I didn’t finish the job with Levi, and you let Mikasa escape. Why?”

Eren’s jaw clenched at the mention of Mikasa, his expression hardening. “I let her go because…” He hesitated, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable. “Because part of me still hopes she’ll understand. That they’ll all understand. If they don’t, though…” His voice trailed off, his meaning clear.

Aurora turned fully to face him, her eyes searching his. “Do you think they ever will?”

Eren looked at her for a long moment, his gaze filled with a mixture of determination and sorrow. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I know we’re out of time. If I don’t move forward, we all die. You, me, our baby… everyone on this island. I can’t let that happen.”

Aurora reached up, cupping his face with her hand. “I trust you,” she said softly, her voice filled with emotion. “I just… I hope you don’t lose yourself in this.”

Eren’s eyes softened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “As long as I have you,” he murmured, “I’ll always know who I am.”

Aurora closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her as she finally allowed herself to relax in his arms. Despite everything, despite the chaos and the bloodshed, in this moment, she felt safe. And for now, that was enough.

…

Night had fallen on Queen Historia’s farm, now a fortified stronghold for the Jaegerists. The farmhouse was alive with the soft murmurs of soldiers, their voices low but brimming with the tension of the plans yet to come. In one of the larger rooms, Queen Historia sat at a modest desk, her quill scratching against parchment as she finalized her speech for the next day.

Her words were critical. Tomorrow, she would stand before the citizens of Paradis and declare the dissolution of the current military branches into one unified force: the Jaegerists . Eren’s movement was no longer a faction; it was becoming the foundation of the new Eldian empire. Historia knew her announcement would mark a turning point, solidifying their control and leaving any resistance with no room to maneuver.

She set down her quill and leaned back in her chair, her thoughts lingering on what had brought them to this point. Her gaze shifted out the window to the distant stars, and for a fleeting moment, she thought of her former comrades: Hange, Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Levi, and Mikasa. Most of them were now trapped underground, crystallized by Eren’s War Hammer powers. Mikasa and Levi were out there, fugitives on the run.

But Historia had no regrets. She had long come to terms with who she was: a selfish person, just like Eren. Someone willing to do whatever it took to achieve her goals. She understood Eren better than anyone, and while she once questioned the depths of his resolve, now she could see that he would go as far as he needed to—and she was willing to follow.

Standing, Historia rolled up the parchment and handed it to one of her attendants, instructing them to ensure its safe delivery. She offered a curt nod to Floch, who stood nearby with a small group of loyal Jaegerists, before excusing herself for the night.

“Floch,” she said as she passed him, her tone sharp yet dismissive, “make sure everything is in order for tomorrow.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Floch replied, saluting her with a sense of pride. He watched her leave the room, her presence commanding even in its simplicity, before turning his attention to the men gathered around him.

Floch leaned against the desk, his arms crossed as his sharp eyes scanned the room. “Listen up,” he began, his voice low but filled with authority. “We’ve done well so far. All the Military branches are now under our control. Tomorrow, the Queen’s announcement will ensure we’re officially recognized as the new military force of Eldia. But…” His gaze darkened. “We still have loose ends.”

One of the Jaegerists, a young soldier with reddish-brown hair, furrowed his brow. “You’re talking about Captain Levi and Mikasa Ackerman?”

Floch nodded. “Exactly. Eren might have let Mikasa go, but that doesn’t mean we should. She and Levi are the last real threats to what we’re building here. The Ackermans are dangerous—especially Levi. We all know what he’s capable of.”

Another Jaegerist chimed in, his tone laced with frustration. “Why didn’t Eren kill Mikasa when he had the chance? And Aurora didn’t finish Levi either. They’re going to come back stronger, and if they regroup, it could be a problem.”

Floch’s jaw tightened, his frustration evident. “Eren is… complicated,” he said carefully. “He still has some sentimental attachments. But that’s why we’re here. It’s our job to handle the things he can’t—or won’t.”

The group exchanged glances, some nodding in agreement. Floch pushed off the desk and began pacing, his mind working through the possibilities. “Levi is injured. Aurora’s poison might have done some serious damage, but we can’t assume he’s out of the fight. Ackermans are resilient. He’ll recover, and when he does, he’ll come straight for, Eren.”

A younger recruit hesitated before speaking. “Do you think he’ll bring Mikasa with him? I mean, she’s strong, but it seems like she’s not on board with Eren’s plans either.”

Floch smirked, his eyes narrowing. “Mikasa’s loyalty is a weakness. She won’t betray Eren unless she has no other choice. But Levi?” He slammed his fist onto the desk for emphasis. “Levi will do whatever it takes to stop Eren. That’s why we can’t wait for them to come to us. We need to take the fight to them.”

“What do you propose?” one of the Jaegerists asked, leaning forward with interest.

Floch paused, his expression calculating. “We need to find them first. If Levi’s as injured as we think, they can’t have gone far. We’ll send out scouts to track their movements. Once we have their location, we move in with a strike team. No chances, no mercy.”

There was a murmur of agreement among the men, but one raised a concern. “What about Aurora? She’s Eren’s wife. Do you think she’ll have an issue with this?”

Floch’s expression hardened, his wariness for Aurora briefly flashing across his face. “Aurora doesn’t need to know,” he said sharply. “She’s already proven that she’ll do whatever it takes to protect Eren. But we don’t need her approval to handle this.”

The room fell silent, the weight of Floch’s words settling over the group. Finally, he straightened, his posture exuding confidence. “This is for the future of Eldia. The Ackermans are relics of the past. If we don’t deal with them now, they’ll become a thorn in our side forever.”

One by one, the Jaegerists nodded, their resolve firm. Floch’s confidence was infectious, and under his leadership, they felt unstoppable.

As the group dispersed to prepare for the operation, Floch lingered in the room, his thoughts briefly drifting to Eren and Aurora. He couldn’t deny the strange dynamic between them. Aurora’s calm demeanor masked a ruthlessness he hadn’t expected, and Eren’s devotion to her was both admirable and concerning. Together, they were formidable, but Floch couldn’t shake the feeling that Aurora’s influence over Eren ran deeper than anyone realized.

With a final glance toward the window, where the lights of the farmhouse flickered in the distance, Floch clenched his fists. Tomorrow, they would take the next step toward securing Eldia’s future—and he would ensure nothing stood in their way.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty Five

One Month Later

A month had passed, and the Jaegerists had grown stronger, their numbers swelling as Paradis Island fully transitioned into a military state under Eren’s command. Eren's vision of unity through domination was materializing faster than anyone anticipated, thanks to his alliance with Historia and the relentless work of Floch.

Far away from the Jaegerists' compound, in the dense forests of Paradis, Floch Forster was leading a relentless pursuit. His goal: eliminate Levi and Mikasa Ackerman once and for all. Over the past month, he had launched countless tracking missions with a select group of loyal Jaegerists, but the Ackermans proved elusive.

Floch crouched near the remnants of a campfire. The faint embers suggested it had been extinguished only hours ago. His sharp eyes scanned the area, searching for any trace of Mikasa and Levi.

“They were here,” he muttered, signaling to the Jaegerists behind him. “They’re close.”

One of his men frowned. “How do they keep slipping away? Every time we corner them, she bolts. And she’s impossible to catch with her gear.”

Floch’s jaw clenched. “Because she’s an Ackerman. She’s not like us. Mikasa’s instincts are unnatural.” He stood, his frustration barely contained. “But she can’t keep running forever. She’s dragging around an injured Levi. He’s dead weight, and eventually, they’ll slip.”

Another Jaegerist stepped forward, glancing at Floch warily. “Do you think Eren knows about this?”

Floch’s eyes darkened. “Eren doesn’t need to know. Mikasa is his blind spot. He’s too sentimental to deal with them properly. That’s why we’re here—to do what needs to be done.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances but didn’t question him further. Floch’s determination was unshakable, and his hatred for the Ackermans burned brighter with every failed attempt to capture them.

Back at the compound, Aurora was bustling around her workspace, surrounded by vials, herbs, and notes. Over the past month, her elixirs had become an integral part of the Jaegerists' regimen. Soldiers reported noticeable improvements in stamina and endurance after weeks of consuming her mixtures, and their loyalty to Aurora grew alongside their respect for her work.

Eren entered the room quietly, leaning against the doorframe as he watched his wife. She was utterly absorbed in her task, her focus unwavering as she carefully measured out a glowing liquid into a small vial.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” he said, his voice breaking the silence.

Aurora looked up, a smile spreading across her face when she saw him. “Eren! You’re back early.”

He approached her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. “I couldn’t stay away,” he murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You’re amazing, you know that? The soldiers swear by your elixirs.”

Her cheeks flushed with pride. “I just want to help. This is my way of contributing.”

Eren placed a gentle kiss on her temple. “You’re doing more than enough. And,” he added, placing a hand over her stomach, “you’re already giving me the most important contribution.”

Aurora’s eyes softened as she placed her hand over his. She was now two and a half months pregnant, and though her bump hadn’t appeared yet, the anticipation of seeing it every day filled her with joy. “I can’t wait for us to meet them,” she whispered.

Eren nodded, his expression softening in a way it rarely did. “Me too.”

…

Later that evening, Eren descended into the basement of the compound. The air was cold and heavy, and the dim lighting cast long shadows across the walls. In the center of the room, a large crystalline cocoon stood like a statue encasing five figures—Hange, Armin, Jean, Connie, and Sasha.

Eren approached Armin, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He placed a hand on the smooth surface, his expression unreadable.

“Why can’t you see it, Armin?” he whispered. “Why can’t any of you see it? This is the only way.”

His voice wavered, the flicker of guilt he refused to acknowledge threatening to break through. “You always believed in me, didn’t you? You thought I could save everyone. But I can’t. Not without this.”

His eyes flickered to Jean, then Hange, then Sasha, and Connie, his jaw tightening as he looked at their frozen form. “I’m sorry. I had no choice.”

Eren’s thoughts turned to Mikasa, and a pang of regret pierced his chest. He knew she was still out there, running and fighting. He had let her go because, deep down, he still cared for her. But he couldn’t let her or Levi interfere.

Finally, he stepped back, his gaze sweeping over the room. “When this is over,” he said quietly, “I’ll set you free. I promise.”

Upstairs, Floch gathered a few trusted Jaegerists to discuss their ongoing mission. Despite his public confidence, the hunt for Levi and Mikasa was wearing on him.

“They’re out there, regrouping,” he said, his voice laced with frustration. “Levi’s injured, but he’s not dead. And Mikasa…” He shook his head. “She’s a problem.”

One of the soldiers hesitated. “Do you think we should inform Eren?”

“No,” Floch snapped. “Eren has enough to deal with. This is our responsibility.”

As the meeting ended, Floch glanced out the window, his resolve hardening. The Ackermans were a threat he couldn’t ignore, and he wouldn’t rest until they were eliminated.

The stage was set, and the pieces were in motion. The Jaegerists were stronger than ever, but danger loomed on the horizon—from Marley, from Mikasa and Levi, and from the cracks of doubt forming within Eren himself.

…

Night had fallen over Historia’s farm, and the Jaegerists' compound was quiet. The distant sound of crickets filled the air, but inside a dimly lit bedroom, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken thoughts. Aurora sat cross-legged on the bed, her gaze fixed on Eren, who stood by the window, his silhouette framed against the moonlight. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his jaw tense.

“Eren,” Aurora said softly, her voice breaking the silence. “You’re doing it again.”

He didn’t turn to look at her, but she could see his fingers twitch slightly. “Doing what?” he replied curtly.

Aurora sighed. “Getting lost in your head. I can see it, you know. The way your shoulders stiffen, the way you avoid looking at me. You’re carrying too much.”

Eren’s gaze remained fixed on the darkness outside. “I’m fine.”

Aurora wasn’t convinced. She scooted closer to the edge of the bed, her feet brushing against the cold floor as she stood and walked toward him. Placing a hand gently on his arm, she coaxed him to face her. “You don’t have to lie to me, Eren. I can feel it—your guilt. You think you’ve hidden it well, but you haven’t.”

For a moment, Eren stayed silent, his green eyes flickering with emotions he didn’t want to acknowledge. Then, he exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging ever so slightly. “I trapped them, Aurora. Armin, Hange, Jean, Connie, Sasha... even Mikasa.” His voice wavered, the weight of his confession thickening the air. “They were my friends. And I betrayed them.”

Aurora’s heart ached at the pain etched into his features. She reached up to cup his face, forcing him to look at her. “You didn’t betray them, Eren. You’re trying to protect them. You’re trying to protect all of us.”

“They don’t see it that way,” he muttered bitterly. “They think I’ve lost my mind. They think I’m the enemy now.”

“They’ll understand one day,” Aurora said, her voice firm but soothing. “When they see what you’re fighting for, when they see the world you’re trying to create, they’ll understand.”

Eren closed his eyes briefly, leaning into her touch. “They experienced the world beyond Paradis,” he said after a pause. “They saw the beauty—the laughter, the kindness in people like Ramzi and the others in that refugee camp. And now, they’re blinded by it. They can’t see the truth. They can’t see how cruel the world really is.”

Aurora stroked his cheek gently, her mind racing for the right words. “You’re not wrong, Eren. The world is cruel. I’ve lived through that cruelty just like you. But you’ve always known that there’s no place for sentimentality in a fight for survival. I wish they could see that too.”

“They won’t,” Eren said flatly. “Especially Mikasa. She’s too tied to the idea of who she thinks I am. She doesn’t see me for who I’ve become. She never could.”

Aurora hesitated before speaking, her voice tinged with concern. “Maybe you could try reasoning with her again. Mikasa isn’t like the others. She loves you, Eren. I think if anyone could understand you, it’s her.”

Eren shook his head, pulling away from her touch and pacing the room. “I’ve tried. She won’t listen. She’s too blinded by her own feelings, by her loyalty to me. And besides...” He stopped and turned to face Aurora, his expression hardening. “She’s with Captain Levi.”

Aurora tensed slightly at the mention of Levi. Her gaze dropped to her hands, fingers fidgeting with the edge of her dress. “Captain Levi,” she murmured. “I didn’t finish him, did I?”

Eren’s eyes softened slightly as he noticed her shift in demeanor. “No,” he said. “But it wasn’t your fault.”

“I know,” Aurora said quickly. “But still, if he’s alive, then he’s probably their biggest hope. Mikasa is likely taking care of him somewhere, waiting for a chance to strike back.”

Eren walked back to her, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders. “Levi is dangerous, but he’s not invincible. I’ve planned for this, Aurora. I’ve planned for everything.”

Aurora looked up at him, her wide eyes filled with both trust and fear. “I just... I wish there was more I could do, Eren. For you, for us. I hate feeling helpless.”

“You’re not helpless,” Eren said firmly, his grip tightening slightly. “You’ve done more for me than anyone else ever could. Without you, none of this would’ve been possible.”

Aurora felt a lump in her throat as his words sank in. “I just want to protect you, Eren. You and our baby. That’s all I care about.”

Eren’s eyes softened further as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “And that’s why I need you to rest. You’re doing enough, Aurora. More than enough.”

She nodded reluctantly, allowing him to guide her back to the bed. As they lay down together, Eren wrapped his arms protectively around her, holding her close. The warmth of his body against hers was comforting, and for a brief moment, the weight of their world seemed to fade.

“Do you think Mikasa will ever forgive me?” Eren asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Aurora hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I think she will. But it’ll take time. Right now, she’s hurting. Just like you.”

Eren closed his eyes, his mind replaying the memories of his friends’ faces, now frozen in crystal. “I never wanted it to be this way,” he murmured. “But I had no choice.”

Aurora nestled closer to him, her hand resting over his heart. “You’re doing what you have to, Eren. And I’ll be right here with you, every step of the way.”

As Eren held her tighter, he silently vowed to himself that no matter what happened, he wouldn’t let anything or anyone harm his family again. The world was cruel, but he would be crueler if that’s what it took to keep them safe.

…

The next morning, the sun had barely risen over the farm when Eren prepared to leave for the Reiss Chapel. He is determined to unlock more of his father’s memories through physical contact with Historia. It had worked for him before at the funeral for the fallen scouts years ago, and he figures the Reiss Chapel is the best place to possibly unlock more memories.

 His expression was stoic as always, but Aurora could see the determination in his eyes as he kissed her goodbye. “Stay safe,” he whispered, his hands lingering on her stomach for a moment before stepping away.

“I always am,” Aurora replied softly, watching as he joined Historia and a small group of Jaegerists. They mounted their horses, and within minutes, they were gone, leaving the compound under heavy guard.

Aurora sighed and turned back toward the farmhouse. Her work on the elixirs awaited her, and with every passing day, she felt more pressure to make them as effective as possible. She knew Marley would retaliate soon, and the Jaegerists would need every advantage they could get.

Inside the farmhouse, Aurora was tending to a minor wound on one of the newer recruits. The young man winced as she applied a salve, but Aurora worked with practiced efficiency, her hands steady.

“Hold still,” she said, her tone calm but firm. “This will sting for a moment, but it’ll keep the wound from getting infected.”

The recruit nodded, biting his lip as she tied the bandage snugly around his arm. “Thank you, Mrs. Jaeger.”

Aurora managed a small smile, though the title still felt strange to her. “Be more careful next time,” she advised, standing and gathering her supplies.

As she walked toward the kitchen to clean her hands, she overheard hushed voices coming from a nearby room. Her sharp ears caught snippets of the conversation, and she froze in place when she heard a name that sent a chill down her spine.

“Floch’s orders... He’s still tracking Mikasa and Levi,” a voice whispered.

Aurora froze mid-motion, her hands hovering over her supplies. Her sharp ears caught every word.

“He says if Eren won’t handle them, he will,” another voice added. “Levi’s in bad shape, and Mikasa’s just running. It’s only a matter of time.”

Aurora’s chest tightened. She took a deep breath, her mind racing. Floch was hunting them? Without Eren’s knowledge? She wiped her hands on a towel, excused herself from the recruit she was helping, and walked briskly toward the barracks where Floch was stationed.

He stood outside, surrounded by a group of Jaegerists. He barked orders, his posture commanding as the recruits practiced their drills. Aurora didn’t wait for him to finish; she approached with purpose, her expression calm but determined.

“Floch,” Aurora called out.

Floch turned, his eyebrows raising slightly at the tone in her voice. “Aurora,” he greeted, though his tone lacked warmth. “What can I do for you?”

Aurora didn’t mince words. “What’s this I hear about you hunting Mikasa and Levi?”

Floch’s eyes flickered with surprise, but he quickly composed himself. “I don’t see why that concerns you.”

Aurora’s expression didn’t waver. “It concerns me because Eren doesn’t know about it, and you’re acting without his orders.”

Floch crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. “Eren is too soft when it comes to them. He let Mikasa escape, and Levi is still out there. We both know how dangerous they are. If they regroup, they’ll come for us.”

Aurora shook her head, her voice calm but firm. “Eren doesn’t want them, especially Mikasa dead unless there’s no other choice. You’re overstepping.”

Floch stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Overstepping? Aurora, Eren is blinded by sentiment. Mikasa and Levi are threats. If he won’t deal with them, then it’s my responsibility to do what needs to be done.”

Aurora frowned, her tone softening but not losing its resolve. “Floch, this isn’t about responsibility. This is about trust. Eren trusts you to follow his orders, not to act on your own.”

Floch scoffed. “And what about you? You think you’re the voice of reason here? You’ve only been here a few weeks and already you think you can call shots around here?”

Aurora’s gaze didn’t falter. “This isn’t about me. It’s about the mission. If we start fighting amongst ourselves, we’ll lose focus on the real enemy. Marley is out there, preparing to destroy us. We don’t have the luxury of personal vendettas.”

Floch hesitated, her words hitting a nerve. The recruits nearby had stopped their drills, their attention subtly drifting toward the heated conversation. Aurora noticed but kept her voice steady.

“Call off the hunt,” she said, softer now but still resolute. “If Eren wants to handle them, he will. But it has to be his decision, not yours.”

Floch’s jaw tightened, his pride wounded, but he could see he was outmatched. “Fine,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “But don’t come crying to me when they show up and ruin everything.”

Aurora nodded, relieved but wary. “Thank you, Floch. Let’s focus on what matters.”

As she walked back to the farmhouse, she let out a shaky breath. Confronting Floch had been nerve-wracking, but she couldn’t let his recklessness jeopardize everything. She returned to her lab and sat down, her hands trembling slightly.

She didn’t want to be at odds with anyone, but she couldn’t stand by and let Floch undermine Eren’s authority. They were all fighting for the same goal—survival. Personal vendettas had no place here.

Aurora picked up her tools and went back to work, though her mind lingered on Floch’s words. “Eren is blinded by sentiment.” Was that true? Or was it simply that Eren still had hope for his friends, even after everything?

She didn’t know the answer, but one thing was certain: she would do everything in her power to protect her family, even if it meant stepping into the line of fire.

…

As the sun began to set, the tension hung heavy in the farmhouse, even after Floch reluctantly agreed to Aurora’s demand. She had watched him walk away, his shoulders stiff with frustration, but her instincts told her the conversation wasn’t over. Floch was a fanatic, and fanatics didn’t abandon their missions easily. Aurora leaned against the wooden wall, gripping the edge of her table tightly. Her pulse raced as she considered her next move.

Floch had lied to her . She could feel it.

Her hands trembled as she packed her herbalist bag with vials of elixirs and antidotes. She needed to be ready for anything. Time was running out, and she couldn’t afford to be unprepared. The image of Eren’s devastated face if something happened to Mikasa haunted her. Despite everything, Mikasa was still family to Eren—someone he loved deeply in his own way. Aurora couldn’t bear the thought of adding more pain to his already heavy burden.

She burst into the central hall, her boots clicking against the wooden floor. A group of Jaegerists, about half a dozen, stood around the table discussing their latest assignments. They turned as she entered, their expressions wary but curious.

“We’re leaving,” Aurora announced, her voice steady and commanding.

One of the men, a broad-shouldered recruit with a scruffy beard, frowned. “Leaving? Under whose orders?”

“Mine,” Aurora replied, her gaze unwavering. “Floch, he’s gone after Mikasa and Levi, and we’re going to stop him.”

The Jaegerists exchanged uneasy glances. “With all due respect, Mrs. Jaeger,” another soldier spoke up, “Floch is our commanding officer. We can’t disobey him.”

Aurora squared her shoulders, her voice sharpening. “Floch doesn’t have the authority to act without Eren’s orders. And as your Commander’s wife, I am ordering you to listen to me.”

Her words silenced the group, but hesitation lingered in their eyes. Aurora stepped closer, lowering her voice but making sure each word carried weight. “If Floch succeeds, do you think Eren will thank him? Do you think he’ll celebrate the death of Mikasa? No. He’ll see it as betrayal—and you’ll all pay the price.”

The Jaegerists exchanged looks again, this time with less certainty. The scruffy-bearded soldier finally nodded. “Alright. We’ll follow you.”

Relief washed over Aurora, but she didn’t let it show. “Good. Saddle your horses. We leave immediately.”

..

The group rode hard through the forest, Aurora leading the charge. The cold wind stung her face, and the rhythmic pounding of hooves filled the air. She clutched the reins tightly, her thoughts racing as fast as her horse. What exactly was she going to do when she caught up to Floch? She hadn’t thought that far ahead.

All she knew was that she couldn’t let him succeed.

The forest grew denser as they rode, the sunlight barely breaking through the thick canopy of leaves. Aurora’s heart pounded in her chest as she scanned the trail for signs of Floch’s passage. Broken branches, hoofprints in the mud—they were fresh. He wasn’t far ahead.

One of the Jaegerists riding beside her leaned over. “We’re gaining on them,” he said. “But what’s the plan when we catch up?”

Aurora’s grip on the reins tightened. “Leave Floch to me,” she said firmly. “You focus on stopping the others. No one gets near Mikasa or Levi.”

The soldier nodded, though his expression was skeptical. Aurora knew they doubted her, but she didn’t care. She had to do this.

As they crested a hill, Aurora spotted Floch and his squad in a clearing below. They had dismounted, their horses tied to trees, and were spreading out as they prepared to advance. Aurora’s stomach twisted as she saw the determination on their faces. They were ready to kill.

She raised a hand, signaling her group to halt. They dismounted quietly, tying their horses to the nearest trees. Aurora motioned for the Jaegerists to spread out and surround Floch’s group, ensuring they couldn’t retreat.

Taking a deep breath, Aurora stepped forward, her boots crunching against the leaves. “Floch!” she called, her voice cutting through the tension.

Floch turned, his expression darkening as he saw her. “Aurora,” he said, his tone dripping with irritation. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Aurora shot back. “You lied to me. You said you’d call off the hunt.”

Floch smirked, spreading his hands. “You didn’t really believe that, did you? Mikasa and Levi are threats, and if Eren won’t deal with them, I will.”

Aurora stepped closer, her jaw tightening. “This isn’t your decision to make, Floch. Eren doesn’t want them dead unless absolutely necessary.”

Floch’s smirk faded, replaced by a sneer. “Eren is blinded by his feelings. He’s too attached to the past to see what needs to be done. If you can’t see that, maybe you’re as blind as he is.”

Aurora’s fists clenched at her sides. “Don’t pretend this is about loyalty to Eren. This is about your own delusions of grandeur.”

The tension crackled like a live wire as the two faced off. The other Jaegerists shifted uncomfortably, unsure of where their loyalties lay. Aurora’s group stood behind her, their hands on their weapons, ready for her signal.

“You’re making a mistake,” Aurora said, her voice low but steady. “If you kill Mikasa and Levi, you’ll lose Eren’s trust forever. Do you really think he’ll forgive you?”

Floch hesitated for a fraction of a second, but his resolve hardened. “I’m not waiting for his forgiveness,” he said. “I’m doing what needs to be done.”

Aurora’s mind raced. She could see the determination in Floch’s eyes. He wasn’t going to back down. But she couldn’t let him move forward, not without risking everything.

“Stand down, Floch,” she said, her voice firm. “This is your last warning.”

Floch’s hand moved to his weapon, but before he could draw it, Aurora raised her hand, signaling her Jaegerists to step forward. The clearing erupted into chaos as the two groups faced off, weapons drawn but no one willing to make the first move.

Aurora’s heart pounded as she locked eyes with Floch. She didn’t know how this would end, but she knew one thing for sure: she wouldn’t let him succeed. Not today.

…

Meanwhile, far on the edge of Paradis. Unbeknownst to Aurora and Floch, an even bigger problem was approaching…

A Marleyan ship glided silently through the fog toward Paradis’ abandoned shoreline. Onboard, Reiner Braun sat hunched, his hands gripping his knees tightly, his face a mask of exhaustion and grim determination. Beside him, Pieck Finger leaned casually against a crate, her sharp eyes scanning the dim horizon. The small team of Marleyan officers with them spoke in hushed tones, their unease palpable. This was not a standard mission—this was their chance to salvage what little control Marley had left after Eren Jaeger’s devastating raid on Liberio.

Reiner’s jaw clenched. Motivation had eluded him for so long. His spiraling failures haunted him: the Founding Titan slipping through his grasp four years ago, the catastrophic loss at Shiganshina, Bertholdt’s death, and then their devastating defeat in Liberio. Every loss weighed on his shoulders, every failure etched deeper into his mind. He was nothing more than a tool for Marley, one that had dulled over time.

“You have one last chance, Braun,” Magath had said coldly during their briefing. “Bring back Aurora Jaeger, or you’ll be deemed a liability.”

The unspoken threat had been clear: failure meant Reiner’s Armored Titan powers would be transferred to a new warrior candidate. And Reiner knew exactly who that candidate would be—his cousin, Gabi. The thought of Gabi enduring the curse of the Titans made his stomach churn. He couldn’t let that happen.

“You okay, Reiner?” Pieck’s voice broke through his spiraling thoughts.

He looked up at her, her ever-calm demeanor offering little comfort. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered, though he wasn’t sure if he believed it.

Pieck studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. “You better be. This mission isn’t just about you.”

Reiner’s fists tightened. He knew what she meant. Eren Jaeger had completely turned the tides of their war. The Marleyan forces needed Aurora Jaeger as leverage—if the rumors were true, she was not just Eren’s wife but his greatest vulnerability. The intelligence they’d gathered on her suggested she had a unique role in his plans, though the specifics were unclear.

The ship slowed as it approached the shore, its engines nearly silent to avoid detection. The officers disembarked first, scanning the beach for any signs of scouts or Jaegerists. Pieck and Reiner followed, the faint crunch of sand under their boots sounding deafening in the tense silence.

“This place looks abandoned,” Pieck murmured. “But we should still be cautious. If the scouts find us here, we won’t have the element of surprise.”

Reiner nodded, his gaze sweeping the darkened landscape. The towering silhouette of Wall Maria loomed in the distance, a haunting reminder of the years he’d spent infiltrating Paradis. He knew this land better than anyone else on the mission, but that knowledge didn’t bring him comfort. Instead, it brought a sense of dread—he was back on the island where everything had gone wrong.

As they moved cautiously along the beach, Reiner’s mind drifted to the briefing when he first learned of Aurora Jaeger’s existence. He’d been half-conscious in the infirmary for weeks. He wasn't able to be present at the military briefing weeks ago when the Marleyan brass had discovered the existence of Aurora Jaeger. His mental health had deteriorated to a pitiful state and he had lost the will to live, therefore his Titan powers were not healing his body as it should’ve.

Reiner was lying in a cot in a hospital and wallowing in his despair, when Pieck had burst into his room.

“Eren Jaeger has a wife,” she’d said bluntly, shaking him awake. “Married her while undercover in Marley.”

Reiner had stared at her, uncomprehending at first. The idea of Eren, the enemy he’d fought tooth and nail, living a double life in Marley for seven months, was unfathomable. The thought of him finding someone to marry during that time felt like a cruel joke.

“Why are you telling me this?” he’d asked flatly.

“Because we’re being sent to capture her,” Pieck had replied. “And you’re coming with me.”

Reiner shook off the memory as they approached the treeline. The beach gave way to dense forest, and the group slowed their pace, mindful of potential ambushes. Reiner led the way, his familiarity with the terrain guiding them.

“We need to move quickly,” Pieck said, her tone clipped. “If the Jaegerists catch wind of us, we’ll lose any advantage we have.”

One of the officers spoke up. “Do we even know where to find her?”

“We know she’s likely wherever Eren is,” Reiner replied. “Eren would most likely be in his hometown, Shiganshina. Let’s start there.”

“And what if we don’t find her?” the officer asked nervously.

“We will,” Reiner said, his voice firm. He couldn’t afford to fail. Not this time. Gabi’s life was on the line.

The group pressed on, the towering trees casting long shadows under the moonlight. The air was heavy with tension, each crack of a twig beneath their boots making their nerves jolt. Pieck stayed alert, her Cart Titan abilities ready to activate at a moment’s notice.

Reiner’s thoughts churned as they moved deeper into Paradis. The weight of the mission bore down on him, but he couldn’t shake the lingering doubts. What kind of person was Aurora Jaeger? The reports painted her as a runaway slave from Marley, someone who had endured unimaginable cruelty. Yet she had fallen in love with Eren, the very man Reiner had spent years trying to destroy.

The irony wasn’t lost on him.

“Focus, Reiner,” Pieck said quietly, sensing his distraction.

“I am,” he muttered, though the truth was far more complicated.

As they neared the edge of the forest, Wall Maria loomed closer, its massive structure casting an imposing shadow. Reiner slowed his pace, raising a hand to signal the group to stop.

“This is where it gets tricky,” he said, his voice low. “Eren will have patrols near the wall. We’ll need to avoid detection if we want to get close.”

“Leave that to me,” Pieck said with a small smirk. “I can scout ahead in my Cart Titan form. You just focus on keeping up.”

Reiner nodded, his jaw tightening. This mission wasn’t just about capturing Aurora Jaeger—it was about proving to himself and to Marley that he could still succeed. And if he failed, the consequences would be devastating.

As Pieck transformed and scouted ahead, Reiner steeled himself for what lay ahead. The fate of his cousin, his country, and perhaps even the war rested on his ability to find and capture the woman who had somehow become the heart of Eren Jaeger’s plans.

With a deep breath, Reiner stepped forward, leading the group closer to Wall Maria and whatever awaited them beyond its shadow.

Chapter Text

Chapter 26

The underground cavern beneath the Reiss Chapel was as eerie and ancient as ever. The dim light from the glowing crystals reflected off the walls, casting soft luminescence around Eren and Historia as they stood in the center of the cavern. The silence was oppressive, broken only by their occasional breaths and the faint hum of the crystalline structures.

Eren paced the floor, his hands clenched into fists, his frustration palpable. His sharp breaths echoed in the cavern, a stark contrast to Historia’s calm, steady presence. She stood nearby, watching him, her hands clasped in front of her. The crown of Paradis might as well have been invisible; here, she wasn’t a queen—just Historia.

“Nothing’s happening,” Eren muttered, his voice low and strained. “I thought... maybe, if we came back here... I thought I could see more. I need to see more.”

“Eren—” Historia began softly, but he cut her off.

“I can’t stop here, Historia,” he said, turning to her, his emerald eyes fierce with determination. “I need to know if there’s another way. I need to see if... if I’m missing something.”

She walked over to him, her movements deliberate and gentle, as though approaching a wounded animal. She reached out, her small hand resting on his shoulder. Her grip was firm, but there was kindness in it. “Let’s try again.”

Eren sighed and nodded. They moved closer to the center of the chamber, where the concentration of crystals was densest. They sat down together on the cool stone floor. Historia adjusted her posture, sitting upright and extending her hand toward Eren.

Eren hesitated for a moment, then took her hand in his own. It felt cold to the touch, and for a brief second, he closed his eyes and concentrated, willing something—anything—to happen. He thought about the past, the memories he’d unlocked when he kissed Historia’s hand before. He thought about the future, the unknown stretching before him like a dark chasm.

But there was nothing. No flashes of light, no sudden torrents of memories. Only the heavy silence of the cavern and the faint sound of their breathing.

Eren growled under his breath, pulling his hand away in frustration. “Damn it. Why isn’t it working?”

Historia watched him carefully. She could see the lines of tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders were hunched as if carrying the weight of the world—because he was. Eren Jaeger, the boy she’d met years ago, was no longer just a boy. He was a man at war with himself.

“You’re pushing too hard,” Historia said gently. “This doesn’t work like that.”

Eren ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I don’t have time, Historia. I need answers now. There has to be another way.”

She stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm. “You’re not going to find answers if you burn yourself out like this.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the crystalline wall ahead. Finally, she decided to change the subject. “How’s Aurora been lately? Things have been so lately, she and I haven’t had time to talk in a few days.”

At the mention of her name, Eren’s expression softened just a fraction. He glanced down at the floor, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “She’s... good,” he said quietly. “She’s been working on her elixirs. She’s already helping the Jaegerists. She’s... incredible.”

“And the baby?” Historia pressed, a small smile of her own forming. “How do you feel about being a dad?”

Eren’s smile faltered, and he looked away. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m nervous. Terrified, really.”

“Terrified?” Historia tilted her head, surprised.

“I’ve done terrible things,” Eren said, his voice heavy with guilt. “I’m about to do even worse things. I’ll probably go down in history as a monster... so what kind of father does that make me? What if I screw it all up? What if—”

“Stop,” Historia interrupted firmly, cutting through his self-doubt. She turned to face him fully, her eyes shining with determination. “Eren, you’re doing all of this for your child. For Aurora. For all of us. That doesn’t make you a bad father—it makes you a good one.”

He shook his head, unconvinced. “Does it? Or am I just dragging them into hell with me?”

Historia placed a hand on his shoulder. “Listen to me,” she said. “You’re trying to protect them. That’s all that matters. And trust me, when that baby is born, you’re going to love them more than anything. You already do, don’t you?”

Eren swallowed hard, his eyes glistening with emotion. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I do.”

The silence stretched between them for a moment, heavy but not uncomfortable. Finally, Eren looked at her and said, “What about you? You’ve been quiet.”

Historia stiffened slightly, her composed mask cracking for a split second. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been... brooding,” Eren said, studying her carefully. “Is it Ymir?”

Historia’s breath hitched. She opened her mouth to deny it but closed it again, knowing it was pointless. She sighed deeply and nodded. “I think about her all the time,” she admitted. “I miss her.”

Eren didn’t say anything, letting her continue.

“I know I don’t have the right to be angry at her,” Historia said, her voice trembling slightly. “She made her choice. She went with Reiner and Bertholdt to return the Jaw Titan to Marley. She thought it was the best thing for me, for everyone... but I still—” Her voice cracked, and she looked away, her hands curling into fists.

“You still wish she’d stayed,” Eren finished softly.

She nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. “I just wish we’d had more time.”

Eren reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “She loved you,” he said simply. “You know that, right?”

Historia wiped at her eyes quickly, nodding. “Yeah. I know.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, two friends bound by the weight of the world and their shared struggles. The glow of the crystals bathed them in soft light, a stark contrast to the darkness of their burdens. Finally, Eren stood and extended a hand to Historia.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Historia took his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. As they made their way out of the cavern, the unspoken bond between them felt stronger than ever. They were in this together, for better or worse, until the very end.

As they stepped out into the fading light. The weight of their earlier conversation lingered, but their attention snapped to the two frantic Jaegerist recruits galloping toward them on horseback. Dust swirled as the horses skidded to a halt, their riders wide-eyed and breathing heavily.

“Commander Jaeger!” one of the recruits called, his voice cracking from urgency.

Eren’s muscles tensed immediately, his piercing green eyes narrowing. “What is it?” he demanded sharply.

The recruits exchanged uneasy glances before the taller of the two stepped forward. “Sir, it’s about Mrs. Jaeger.”

Eren’s heart skipped a beat, and his expression darkened. “What about Aurora?”

The recruit swallowed hard, his nervousness almost palpable. “She... she left the compound on horseback, sir. She took a group of Jaegerists with her, and they were heading after Floch.”

“What?” Eren barked, his voice echoing into the quiet woods. Historia’s eyes widened in shock, and she instinctively stepped closer to Eren, her hand brushing his arm in concern.

The shorter recruit stepped forward now, his face pale. “We didn’t know what was happening at first, but some of the others said Floch left with a squad earlier in the day. He’s been secretly hunting the Ackermans for weeks.”

“Floch’s been doing what?” Historia exclaimed, her usual composure cracking.

Eren’s jaw clenched so tightly it ached. His mind raced as he pieced the information together. Floch’s insubordination had been a thorn in his side for months, but this? Secretly hunting Mikasa and Levi without his authorization? And Aurora had gone after him?

“Which direction?” Eren demanded, his voice cold and sharp.

The recruits scrambled to answer, pointing toward the dense forest to the northeast. “They were last seen heading that way, Commander,” one of them stammered.

Eren wasted no time. He turned to Historia, his expression grim. “Go back to the compound with them,” he ordered. “Stay there and don’t leave until I return.”

“Eren—” Historia began, her tone conflicted.

“Go,” he said more firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll handle this.”

Historia nodded reluctantly, signaling the recruits to accompany her. Eren didn’t wait to see them off. He sprinted into the open field, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and fury.

He bit his hand hard, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. Within moments, a blinding flash of light erupted, followed by the deafening roar of his Titan transformation. His massive form towered over the forest, and without hesitation, he started running.

Eren’s mind raced as fast as his Titan legs carried him. Trees blurred beneath him, the ground shaking with each thunderous step. What the hell was Floch thinking? Eren’s fury burned hotter with every second. He had specifically ordered that Mikasa and Levi not be harmed unless absolutely necessary. And Aurora was out there chasing Floch, putting herself and their unborn child at risk.

His chest tightened at the thought. The image of Aurora hurt, bleeding, or worse, flashed in his mind, and his teeth ground together. If anything happened to her, Floch wouldn’t live to see another sunrise.

As he pushed forward, his Titan form plowing through the forest with raw determination, a memory surfaced—Aurora’s gentle laughter as she teased him about their future child. Her bright eyes, full of warmth and trust. She had put her faith in him, believed in him despite everything. And now she was out there risking her life because of Floch’s recklessness.

You’d better be okay, Aurora. The thought fueled his steps, each one faster and more determined than the last.

Ahead, the forest began to thin, revealing the open plains leading toward Wall Maria. Eren’s sharp gaze scanned the horizon, searching for any sign of Aurora or Floch. His heart pounded harder, a mix of rage and desperation propelling him forward. If even a single hair on Aurora’s head was out of place, Floch was a dead man.

Back in the forest, the recruits and Historia rode quickly toward the compound. Historia’s hands gripped the reins tightly, her face pale and tense. She couldn’t shake the unease clawing at her chest. Aurora chasing after Floch? Floch hunting the Ackermans? It was all spiraling out of control.

“You think Mrs. Jaeger will be okay?” one of the recruits asked nervously, glancing back at the faint glow of Eren’s Titan form disappearing into the distance.

“She has to be,” Historia said firmly, though her hands trembled slightly. She wouldn’t allow herself to think otherwise. Aurora was strong, stronger than most gave her credit for. But still, Historia couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation pressing down on her. Aurora was more than a friend now—she was family. And she had to come back safe.

…

Meanwhile on the western side of Paradis, the cold evening air bit at the faces of Pieck, Reiner, and the small group of Marleyan officers as they reached the edge of Wall Maria. The towering structure loomed before them, its presence a grim reminder of Marley’s failures in the past. The silence of the wilderness surrounding them was broken only by the soft crunch of boots on frostbitten grass and the occasional murmur among the soldiers.

Reiner, walking just behind Pieck, slowed his steps until he finally stopped, his breathing uneven. His broad shoulders trembled slightly, and his hand instinctively clutched his chest. The memories flooded back with brutal clarity: the screams of the people in Shiganshina, the faces of the friends he betrayed, the countless lives lost. It was as if the wall itself bore the weight of his sins, staring down at him as a reminder of everything he had done—and failed to do.

“Reiner,” Pieck called softly, her sharp eyes glancing back at him.

But Reiner didn’t respond. He stumbled a few paces to the side and fell to his knees, dry heaving before bile finally escaped his mouth. His trembling fingers dug into the frozen earth as he retched, his whole body wracked with the weight of his guilt and trauma.

“Shit,” Pieck muttered under her breath, motioning to the soldiers. “Keep a perimeter. Reiner and I will catch up.”

One of the Marleyan officers hesitated but nodded, signaling the group to continue moving a short distance ahead to scout the area. Pieck crouched down beside Reiner, placing a steadying hand on his back.

“Reiner,” she said again, this time more firmly. “You need to breathe.”

Reiner choked back another heave, trying to take deep breaths but failing miserably. He shook his head, unable to meet Pieck’s gaze. “I... I can’t. I can’t do this,” he muttered hoarsely, his voice cracking under the weight of his despair.

Pieck’s expression softened as she crouched beside him, her usual calm demeanor taking on a rare note of sympathy. “Yes, you can,” she said firmly. “You’ve done this before, Reiner. You’ve faced worse than this. You’ve survived every time.”

Reiner finally turned his haunted eyes to her, his face pale and slick with sweat. “But at what cost? Do you know what it’s like to wake up every day and hate yourself for what you’ve done? For what you’ve failed to do?” He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. “I can still see their faces. Eren, Mikasa, Armin... all of them. I was supposed to be their friend. I lied to them. I killed their families. And for what? For this?” He gestured weakly to the wall, his voice growing bitter. “To come back here and do it all over again?”

Pieck sighed, resting her hand on his shoulder. She had seen this spiral in him before, and it was always painful to watch. “Reiner,” she said gently, “I’m not going to pretend I understand exactly what you’re going through. But you’ve always done what you thought was right. For Marley, for the Warrior program, for your family. And now, for Gabi.”

At the mention of his cousin’s name, Reiner’s eyes flickered with a faint spark of determination. Pieck noticed and pressed on.

“You don’t want Gabi to inherit your Titan,” she continued. “You want her to live a full life, free from this hell. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

Reiner nodded weakly, his breathing finally evening out. “Yeah,” he whispered. “For Gabi.”

Pieck offered a small smile, standing and brushing dirt from her knees. “Good. Then let’s get through this. For her.”

She turned to signal the group to return, but before she walked away, she glanced back at him. “You need to pull yourself together, Reiner. We can’t afford to have you falling apart now. Not when we’re this close. Aurora Jaeger is out there, and she’s our key to destabilizing Eren. We need you for this mission. Gabi needs you to succeed.”

Reiner nodded again, slowly rising to his feet. Though his legs wobbled, he steadied himself and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ll be fine,” he said, his voice more resolute now.

Pieck gave him a long look, ensuring he wasn’t about to collapse again, then nodded in approval. “We’ll set up camp for the night. You’ll need your strength.”

The group regrouped not far from the wall, finding a small clearing hidden by the dense forest. The soldiers worked quickly to erect small tents and set up a fire, the light flickering against the dark silhouettes of the trees.

Pieck sat on a fallen log near the fire, her expression pensive as she sipped from her canteen. Reiner sat across from her, staring into the flames. The other soldiers remained quiet, sensing the tension in the air.

Reiner broke the silence first. “Do you think we’ll find her?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire.

Pieck didn’t look at him but nodded. “If the intel is accurate, she’s with the Jaegerists. And if we know anything about Eren, it’s that he’ll do anything to protect what’s his.”

Reiner’s jaw tightened. “You really think kidnapping her will be enough to stop him?”

Pieck finally met his gaze, her eyes sharp and calculating. “No,” she admitted. “But it’ll make him vulnerable. And in this war, any advantage counts.”

Reiner didn’t respond, his gaze returning to the fire. The weight of their mission pressed heavily on his shoulders, but Pieck’s words echoed in his mind. For Gabi. For her future. He would see this through.

As the night deepened, the camp fell into uneasy silence. The shadows of the wall loomed over them, a constant reminder of the battle that awaited.

…

The forest was eerily quiet, the only sound being the faint rustling of leaves in the cold breeze. Mikasa perched high in the trees, hidden in the dense canopy, her breath shallow as she glanced down at Levi. He lay slumped against the trunk of the tree, his skin pale and his breaths shallow. His once sharp, calculating eyes were now dull, barely able to focus. The purple veins snaking up his neck and across his hands were a grim reminder of how potent Aurora's poison had been.

Mikasa had done everything she could to keep him alive—cleaning his wounds, forcing water down his throat, and using every herb and salve she could find in the forest—but it wasn’t enough. Levi’s condition was deteriorating rapidly, and her Ackerman instincts screamed at her to protect him at all costs.

Then she heard it: the faint sound of footsteps and murmuring voices cutting through the stillness.

Her heart sank. Floch.

Mikasa’s grip tightened on her blades as she crouched lower, her sharp eyes scanning the forest floor. Sure enough, there he was, leading a squad of Jaegerists armed to the teeth, their ODM gear glinting in the faint moonlight. Floch’s fiery red hair was unmistakable, even from her vantage point.

Mikasa gritted her teeth. She was cornered. Running wasn’t an option this time. Levi couldn’t handle being jostled any more, and she wouldn’t leave him to die alone. If this was the end, she would make sure to take as many of them down with her as she could.

As she adjusted her position and prepared to leap into the fray, she paused, her sharp ears picking up something unexpected. Another set of footsteps approached, lighter and slower. Then she saw her— Aurora Jaeger.

Mikasa’s eyes narrowed in confusion as she crouched lower for a better view. Aurora’s platinum blonde hair and flowing cloak over her dress made her stand out among the Jaegerists, and her commanding voice cut through the tense air.

“ Floch, I told you to stand down. ” Aurora’s voice was firm, brooking no argument. She strode forward, her eyes blazing with determination as she confronted Floch.

Floch’s jaw tightened, his hands twitching dangerously close to the blades at his sides. “Aurora, with all due respect, this is none of your concern,” he said, his tone laced with irritation. “Eren might be too soft to deal with the Ackermans, but I’m not. They’re a threat, and you know it.”

Aurora took another step closer, her dark eyes locking onto his. “I said, stand down. Eren didn’t sanction this, and you have no authority to act without his orders.”

Floch let out a bitter laugh, his expression twisting with disdain. “You think you can tell me what to do just because you’re Eren’s wife? Newsflash, Aurora—you wouldn’t dare stand up to me if it wasn’t for him.”

Aurora didn’t flinch. “Lucky for me, Eren is my husband,” she shot back, her tone biting. “And you’re not stupid enough to test him.”

Floch’s eyes flickered with frustration, but he didn’t move. The Jaegerists behind him exchanged uneasy glances, clearly unsure of whether to follow his lead or heed Aurora’s command.

“Go back to the compound,” Aurora ordered, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “All of you. Now.”

Floch’s fists clenched at his sides, and for a moment, Mikasa thought he might draw his weapons. But then he exhaled sharply through his nose and stepped back. “ Fine ,” he bit out, his voice dripping with bitterness. He turned to his squad and barked, “Fall back. We’re leaving.”

The Jaegerists hesitated for only a second before following his orders, their ODM gear clicking into place as they prepared to retreat. As Floch passed Aurora, he deliberately brushed against her shoulder, leaning in close enough to hiss, “You’re lucky Eren’s soft spot for you keeps you alive. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so bold.”

Aurora didn’t miss a beat. “And you’re lucky I haven’t told him about your little insubordination problem,” she retorted coolly, her chin held high. “Trust me, Floch—there’s a limit to how far you can push him.”

Floch glared at her for a moment longer before turning on his heel and stalking away, the rest of the Jaegerists following him into the trees.

Mikasa stayed perfectly still her mind racing, piecing together what she had just heard. Eren didn’t know Floch was hunting them? The revelation left her stunned.

She glanced down at Levi, whose shallow breaths were growing weaker by the minute. They couldn’t stay here any longer. As much as she hated to admit it, Aurora had just saved them—at least for now. But Mikasa’s anger flared anew as she thought of Aurora’s role in everything that had happened. Levi’s condition, her friends trapped in the hardened crystal... it all led back to Eren and Aurora.

Still, for now, she had to focus on survival. Floch’s squad was gone, but Mikasa knew it was only a matter of time before they returned. She would have to find another place to hide—somewhere safe enough for Levi to recover, if he ever could.

Aurora let out a quiet sigh of relief, watching as Floch and his squad disappeared into the distance. She turned to the Jaegerists who had accompanied her, giving them a simple order to stay back and guard the perimeter. With that settled, she turned her head sharply upward and looked directly into the dense canopy of trees where Mikasa and Levi were hiding.

Mikasa stiffened in shock, her grip tightening on the handle of her blades. How did she know?

Aurora's voice broke the silence. "You’re using Artemisia annua , aren’t you? A common herb for treating sickness and fever. I can smell it lingering in the air."

Mikasa’s heart raced. She had been using the herb in desperation, crushing its leaves to create a salve for Levi’s wounds. Aurora continued, her tone calm but pointed.

"It won’t work for the poison Captain Levi has. It’s too potent. That plant can’t even begin to counteract it." Aurora reached into her satchel, her movements slow and deliberate, and pulled out a small glass vial filled with a pale blue liquid. She held it up, letting the moonlight catch its surface. "But this will."

Mikasa’s mind swirled with confusion and anger. Her instincts screamed at her to stay cautious, but Levi’s condition was worsening. What game was Aurora playing now? Without thinking, Mikasa shot down from the trees in a blur of movement, landing directly in front of Aurora and pinning her to the nearest trunk with a blade pressed firmly against her throat.

"Do you really expect me to believe you?" Mikasa growled, her voice low and venomous. "You poisoned him in the first place, and now you’re here to save him? For all I know, that’s not an antidote. It’s more poison to finish the job."

Aurora’s eyes met Mikasa’s with steady calm. "It’s the antidote," she said softly. "I swear it."

Mikasa’s blade pressed harder against Aurora’s neck. "You’re a liar. A cold-blooded killer."

Aurora didn’t flinch. Instead, her voice took on a steel edge as she retorted, "So are you. So is Levi. So are all the scouts."

Mikasa froze at the words, her eyes narrowing. Aurora continued, her voice quiet but firm. "I watched you all during the raid on Liberio. You killed people you didn’t know—men, women, children. It wasn’t personal. It was war. You killed to protect your home, your people. That’s the same reason I tried to kill Levi."

Mikasa’s grip on her blade faltered slightly. She’s lying. Isn’t she? But deep down, Mikasa knew there was a painful truth to Aurora’s words. She hated it, but she couldn’t deny it. They were all killers, doing what they thought was necessary to survive.

Aurora leaned slightly forward, her dark eyes filled with something unexpected: remorse. "I’m sorry," she said, her voice cracking just enough to be sincere. "I’m sorry for poisoning him. I’m sorry you’ve had to run like this. I’m sorry for everything."

Mikasa’s heart clenched at the next words.

"And I’m sorry you feel like I stole Eren from you."

Mikasa’s lips parted slightly, and her grip on her blade loosened even more. Aurora kept her gaze locked on hers, genuine regret etched into her features. "I didn’t mean to take him away from you. I didn’t plan any of this. We just… fell in love."

Mikasa felt her chest tighten, a pang of anguish cutting through her like a blade. "You don’t understand," she said through gritted teeth, though her voice trembled. "You don’t know what it’s like to love someone for almost your entire life, only to lose them."

Aurora nodded, her tone soft but unwavering. "You’re right. I don’t know what that feels like. But I know what it’s like to love someone so much that you’d do anything to protect them. Anything. And I think you know that feeling too. That’s why I did what I did. To protect Eren."

Mikasa stared at her, her emotions warring inside her. She wanted to hate Aurora, to blame her for everything that had gone wrong. But deep down, she couldn’t deny the raw honesty in her words.

Aurora took a deep breath, lowering her voice. "Mikasa, I didn’t want to kill Levi, or the Premier, or anyone. But they came after Eren. They made him a target. And I couldn’t just stand by and let them take him from me."

Tears stung at Mikasa’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She hated this. She hated how much Aurora’s words made sense. "Eren is wrong," she whispered, her voice shaky but resolute. "What he’s doing—it’s wrong."

Aurora’s expression softened. "You’re right. It is wrong. But it’s necessary. Mikasa, I’ve lived in Marley for most of my life. I’ve seen their hatred for us up close. It’s not just political or strategic—it’s personal. They don’t see us as human. They want every single person on this island dead. There’s no reasoning with them. There’s no compromise. They want us wiped out."

Mikasa’s blade lowered completely as she took a step back, her mind spinning. Aurora’s voice grew quieter, almost pleading. "I know there are innocent people in the world. I know there are good people. But those good people aren’t coming to save us. No one is. It’s us or them, Mikasa. That’s the reality we’re facing."

The two women stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, the tension in the air thick and suffocating. Mikasa’s gaze flickered to the vial still in Aurora’s hand, the liquid inside catching the faint moonlight. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she weighed her options.

Every instinct screamed at her not to trust Aurora, to believe this was some sort of ploy. Her gaze darted between Aurora’s calm expression and the small syringe in her bag.

Aurora’s voice broke the silence, soft yet steady. "I can see you don’t trust me, Mikasa. I don’t blame you." Slowly, deliberately, Aurora reached into her bag, her movements measured and unthreatening. "But Levi doesn’t have time for us to keep circling each other like this."

Mikasa stiffened, her fingers tightening around her blade as Aurora pulled out a clean syringe. Aurora’s ice-blue eyes met hers, unwavering. "I’ll prove it to you."

She uncorked the vial of antidote and filled the syringe, carefully flicking away the air bubbles. "I’m not going to poison myself, Mikasa. That wouldn’t help anyone. Just watch."

Without hesitation, Aurora pushed the needle into her arm, injecting herself with a full dose of the antidote. Mikasa’s breath hitched, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized Aurora’s every movement, every expression. The seconds ticked by, each one dragging on endlessly as Mikasa remained poised to attack at the slightest hint of foul play.

Five minutes passed. Aurora was still standing, calm and unharmed. Her face betrayed no signs of discomfort, no signs of deceit. "Satisfied?" she asked quietly, lowering her arm and returning the empty syringe to her bag.

Mikasa’s blade lowered just slightly, the tension in her shoulders easing, though the distrust lingered in her eyes. Aurora took a cautious step closer. "Levi doesn’t have much time," she said firmly. "Despite everything that’s happened, I don’t want him to die. It was never personal. It’s survival. And honestly…" She hesitated, glancing briefly toward the canopy where Mikasa had descended. "With what’s coming, we’re going to need him. We’re going to need you. All of us."

Mikasa clenched her jaw, her mind still spinning, but Levi’s strained breathing above them brought her focus back. She couldn’t afford to take the risk of doing nothing. Reluctantly, she grabbed Aurora by the arm and propelled them both upward with her ODM gear, landing softly on the branch where Levi lay slumped against the trunk. His skin was pale, almost gray, with deep purple veins spidering along his neck and arms. His eyes were bloodshot and unfocused, his breaths shallow and labored.

Aurora immediately knelt by his side, her expression grim as she assessed his condition. "It’s bad," she murmured, carefully pulling on a pair of gloves from her bag. "Another night or two like this, and he wouldn’t make it. But he can still be saved."

Mikasa crouched opposite her, watching Aurora’s every move with hawk-like intensity. Aurora worked quickly and efficiently, sterilizing a clean syringe before filling it with the antidote. She gently took Levi’s arm, finding a vein with practiced ease. "I’m giving him two doses to speed up the process," she explained. "It’ll counteract the poison faster."

The needle pierced Levi’s skin, and he winced faintly. Mikasa’s muscles tensed instinctively, but she stayed her hand. Aurora slowly administered the first dose, then the second, her movements steady and precise. She discarded the syringe, pulling a clean cloth from her bag to dab at the injection site.

For a moment, nothing happened. Mikasa’s heart pounded as she watched Levi’s chest rise and fall weakly, her grip tightening around her blade once more. But then, slowly, the faintest hint of color returned to his cheeks. The deep purple veins along his neck and arms began to fade, shrinking and retreating as though the poison were being drawn out of his body. His breathing grew steadier, less ragged.

"It’s working," Aurora said softly, sitting back on her heels. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand, visibly relieved. "The antidote is counteracting the poison. It’ll take about a week for him to fully recover, but he’ll be okay now."

Mikasa exhaled shakily, her fingers trembling as she brushed a strand of hair from Levi’s face. "A week…" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. Relief warred with the lingering distrust in her heart. She turned her gaze back to Aurora, who was carefully packing her bag, her platinum blonde hair catching the faint moonlight filtering through the trees.

"Why are you doing this?" Mikasa asked, her voice tight. "After everything you’ve done, why save him now?"

Aurora looked up, meeting Mikasa’s gaze with a calm but somber expression. "Because it’s not just about Eren. It’s about survival—for all of us. We can’t afford to keep fighting each other while the rest of the world plots to wipe us out. Levi is too important to lose. So are you."

Mikasa’s lips pressed into a thin line, her emotions roiling. She wanted to lash out, to scream, but she couldn’t deny the truth in Aurora’s words. For now, she would have to trust her. For now.

…

Meanwhile on the eastern side of Paradis, yet another mission was unfolding…

Porco Galliard stood at the bow of the small Marleyan vessel, the wind whipping his short blonde hair. The ship rocked lightly against the waves as it approached the shores of Paradis. Unlike the coordinated mission of Pieck and Reiner, his mission was solitary, covert, and one that carried the weight of Zeke Yeager's master plan. Porco's jaw tightened at the thought. Zeke's goals often felt lofty and riddled with contradictions, but this mission? It was direct, and Porco was good at direct.

The goal was simple: assassinate Historia Reiss , the Queen of the Walls.

The Marleyans believed Historia was the key to Eren’s potential to activate the Founder's power. Without her, Eren would be unable to access the rumbling. Zeke's notes from his predecessor, Tom Ksaver, had confirmed this— the Founder's power required contact with a titan of royal blood . If Historia died, Paradis's last royal descendent was Zeke himself, and he could steer the Founder's power toward his ultimate plan of sterilizing all Eldians.

Porco wasn't entirely sold on Zeke's vision. He found it unsettling. But orders were orders. More than that, failure wasn’t an option. If he succeeded, Marley would be one step closer to eliminating the threat of Eren Jaeger. If he failed, the consequences would be unimaginable—not just for him, but for the world.

The ship anchored a short distance from the abandoned coastline of Paradis. The crew silently lowered a small boat into the water. Porco hopped in, carrying only his gear and a grim resolve. The shoreline loomed closer, and for a moment, memories of his predecessors, Ymir and his brother Marcel, washed over him. Marcel had died on this cursed island. And now here he was, risking the same fate.

“Keep the ship hidden and be ready to pick me up,” Porco ordered the crew before stepping onto the sandy shore.

The forests of Paradis stretched before him, dense and shadowy. Porco adjusted the straps of his gear and began his trek. The Queen's location had been pinpointed to Wall Rose, where she resided in a rural stronghold. Porco knew that reaching her would require stealth and precision. The forests were alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant wildlife. He moved quickly, his senses alert.

As he pressed deeper into the woods, his mind drifted back to Zeke’s words during their briefing.

Flashback: The Briefing

"You understand the stakes of this mission, don’t you?" Zeke’s voice had been calm but firm. "Eren's entire plan hinges on his ability to access the Founder's power. If we eliminate Queen Historia, he loses his most viable link to royal blood."

Porco had frowned. "Why not just send Pieck for this? She's better at sneaking around."

Zeke’s eyes had narrowed. "Because Peick has to keep Reiner in check. You wouldn’t be any help paired up with him.  Besides, Pieck and Reiner have their own mission. You will do this alone."

"And if I fail?" Porco had asked, his tone challenging.

"You won’t," Zeke replied. " You can’t. ”

Present: In the Forest

The memory of Zeke’s words lingered as Porco navigated the uneven terrain. The forest thickened, and the trees grew taller, their branches creating a canopy that blocked out most of the light. He paused for a moment, pulling out a map. According to his intel, Wall Maria was another few hours' journey from his current location.

As he folded the map, a rustling sound caught his attention. Porco froze, his hand instinctively moving to the rifle strapped on his back. The sound grew louder, accompanied by faint whispers. He crouched low, his sharp eyes scanning the area. A group of Jaegerists? Scouts?

He waited, his muscles tense, until a small herd of deer emerged from the underbrush. Porco exhaled sharply, shaking his head. His nerves were on edge.

“This damned island,” he muttered.

He pressed on, his mind racing. The plan was straightforward: infiltrate the stronghold, locate Historia, and eliminate her. But as simple as it sounded on paper, Porco knew it would be anything but. The Jaegerists were formidable, and Eren was undoubtedly keeping a close watch on the Queen. 

As night began to fall, Porco found a small clearing and decided to set up camp. He couldn’t risk traveling in the dark. The forest came alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, their cries echoing through the trees. Porco lit a small, controlled fire, just enough to keep warm without drawing attention.

As he sat by the flames, his mind wandered to Eren Jaeger. The man had become a specter, a legend. Porco hated him for what he represented—defiance against Marley, chaos, and destruction. But more than that, he hated the way Eren always seemed to win. He had bested them at Liberio, stolen the War Hammer Titan, and now had an entire army of fanatics willing to die for him.

And then there was Aurora Jaeger, the woman who had somehow managed to marry Eren while he was undercover in Marley. Porco still couldn’t wrap his head around it. What kind of woman would marry someone like Eren? And what kind of man could fall in love in the middle of all this chaos? The whole thing felt surreal.

“I’ll figure it out,” Porco muttered to himself, his eyes narrowing. “After I finish this mission.”

He lay down, his back against the trunk of a tree, and closed his eyes. The fire crackled softly, its light dancing on the surrounding foliage. Tomorrow, he would reach Wall Maria. Tomorrow, he would complete his mission—or die trying .

…

The next day, the sun dipped lower on the horizon as Porco adjusted the hood of his Jaegerist uniform he had stolen this morning, concealing his features while he rode through the dense forest. He had made it through Wall Maria and was now making his way through Wall Rose where the Jaegerist compound should be according to the intel he acquired.  His stolen horse trudged forward, its hooves crunching softly against the undergrowth. The mission Zeke had given him echoed in his mind.

It should have been simple—find her, eliminate her, and cripple Eren Jaeger's access to the Founding Titan. But as the hours passed, an inexplicable unease began to settle over him, tugging at his chest like a phantom ache.

Reining in his horse, Porco scanned the surroundings, his sharp eyes catching movement through the trees. Three horses were approaching—a group of Jaegerists, by the look of their uniforms. His grip on the reins tightened as he noticed the figure riding between them: a petite woman with blonde hair that shimmered faintly in the fading light. Something about her struck him, a feeling he couldn’t quite place, and his heartbeat quickened.

As the distance closed between them, Porco tried to keep his gaze averted, but when their paths converged, his hood slipped slightly, and his eyes locked with hers.

And everything stopped .

A rush of memories—foreign yet vividly familiar—flooded his mind. He saw flashes of the woman’s face, her bright blue eyes glistening with determination and vulnerability. A soft smile, a gentle laugh, the sensation of warmth in his chest. These weren’t his memories. No, they belonged to someone else— Ymir.

Porco’s breath hitched, and his horse stumbled slightly as he dismounted, struggling to make sense of what he was seeing. The intensity of the emotions nearly brought him to his knees. Love. Fierce, overwhelming, unyielding love.

Meanwhile, Historia froze in place on her horse, her eyes wide with shock. For a moment, she didn’t see Porco’s cloaked figure before her—she saw Ymir. The same piercing eyes, the rugged features, the presence that seemed to tug at her very soul. Her heart constricted painfully as her mind screamed at her that it couldn’t be true, yet the feeling in her chest told her otherwise.

“ Ymir ?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Porco stiffened, her voice breaking through the haze of memories. He tried to look away, to focus on the mission, but he couldn’t. Ymir’s emotions were still there, clawing at him, urging him to move, to speak, to do something.

Historia dismounted her horse in a rush, the two Jaegerist guards calling after her in confusion. Before Porco could react, she ran to him, tears streaming down her face.

“Ymir!” she cried, throwing her arms around him and burying her face against his chest.

Porco froze, his entire body going rigid. He felt her warmth, her tears soaking into his uniform, and it only made the emotions stronger, sharper. He wanted to push her away, to yell at her that she had the wrong person, but his hands refused to move.

The Jaegerist guards exchanged baffled glances, their hands inching toward their weapons.

“Your Majesty!” one of them called out. “What are you doing? Who is this?”

But Historia didn’t respond, her sobs muffled against Porco’s chest.

Porco’s jaw clenched as he finally forced himself to speak. “Stop,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “I’m not—”

But the words died on his lips. How could he explain this? How could he tell her that the memories weren’t his, that the love she felt wasn’t meant for him? He wasn’t Ymir. He wasn’t the one she wanted.

Historia pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “How?” she whispered. “How are you here? Why did you leave me?”

Porco looked away, unable to meet her gaze. The weight of Ymir’s emotions was unbearable, and for a fleeting moment, he hated her for leaving this behind, for forcing him to carry it.

“I’m not Ymir,” he finally managed, his voice shaking. “I’m—”

But Historia didn’t seem to hear him, her hands gripping his uniform as if afraid he would vanish. “I thought you were gone,” she whispered. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Porco’s hands hovered awkwardly at his sides, unsure of what to do. His mission, his purpose—it all felt so far away now, drowned out by the flood of emotions that weren’t even his. The love Ymir had for this woman was all-consuming, and Porco could feel it as if it were his own.

The Jaegerist guards stepped closer, their confusion growing. “Your Majesty, we need to keep moving,” one of them urged. “It isn’t safe here.”

Porco snapped out of his daze, his gaze hardening. He had to finish the mission. He had to kill her. But as he looked down at the fragile, tearful woman before him, the knife in his heart twisted.

He couldn’t do it.

“I—” Porco stammered, taking a step back. “You’re making a mistake. I’m not—”

But Historia didn’t let go, her tears flowing freely. For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to feel, to grieve, to hope. The pain of losing Ymir, the burden of ruling a crumbling kingdom—it all poured out in her sobs.

Porco stood there, paralyzed, as her emotions washed over him. The guards moved closer, their suspicion evident, but Historia’s grip didn’t falter.

In that moment, Porco Galliard, the Jaw Titan, wasn’t a warrior of Marley. He wasn’t an assassin sent to kill the Queen. He was just a man caught in the remnants of someone else’s love, and he had no idea what to do.

Chapter Text

Chapter 27

The weight of Historia’s arms around Porco began to ease as she stepped back, her brows furrowing in confusion. Her tear-streaked face turned pale as the realization dawned—this wasn’t Ymir. She had felt Ymir’s spirit, her presence so vividly, but now, staring at the man before her, it was clear.

“You’re not Ymir,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Porco’s jaw clenched as he looked away, cursing under his breath. He couldn’t meet her eyes. Her realization sent a pang of guilt through him that wasn’t even his own. It was Ymir’s love, her regret, and it was suffocating.

The two Jaegerist guards shifted nervously, their rifles at the ready as their suspicion mounted. One of them stepped forward, his voice sharp. “Identify yourself. Who are you? What are you doing here?”

Porco’s eyes darted between the guards, their weapons raised, and Historia, who still looked torn, her hands trembling at her sides. His mind raced. What the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn’t fight them here without drawing more attention. He couldn’t kill Historia, not now, not after—

“Answer the question!” one of the guards barked, stepping closer with his rifle aimed at Porco’s chest.

Porco snarled under his breath, his fingers twitching at his side. “Shit,” he muttered. This wasn’t going as planned, and now he was trapped. He could feel Ymir’s memories flooding his mind, memories of Historia’s laughter, her strength, her kindness. He gritted his teeth, cursing himself for hesitating.

“Stand back,” Historia said suddenly, her voice regaining its strength.

The guards turned to her in shock. “Your Majesty—”

“I said, stand down!” she commanded, her voice sharp and unwavering. “This man is a Titan shifter. I know it.”

The guards froze, their rifles still raised. “A Titan shifter? Then why—”

“Because he’s the one who inherited Ymir’s power,” Historia said quietly, her gaze locked on Porco.

Porco’s breath caught in his throat. She knew. She saw right through him.

The guards hesitated, exchanging glances. One of them shook his head. “Your Majesty, this is dangerous. We can’t—”

“Stand down!” Historia snapped, stepping in front of Porco.

The guards were flabbergasted, their weapons still aimed but now wavering. “Your Majesty, please get back,” one of them pleaded, reaching out to pull her away.

Porco moved on instinct, his body acting before his mind could catch up. He stepped in front of Historia, shielding her from the guards, his eyes blazing with warning. “Don’t touch her,” he growled.

The guards stiffened, their rifles snapping back into position. “Get out of the way!” one shouted.

Porco’s hands balled into fists, his teeth grinding as his mind spiraled. He couldn’t fight them all here. He couldn’t stay. But he couldn’t let her get hurt, either. His head pounded with Ymir’s feelings, her love screaming at him to protect Historia at all costs.

“Stop this,” Historia said firmly, placing a hand on Porco’s arm. “Both of you, lower your weapons. Now.”

But the guards didn’t listen. “We can’t, Your Majesty!” one barked. “This man is dangerous. He’s—”

Porco’s patience snapped. With a snarl, he bit into his hand, the blood flowing freely. “I don’t have time for this,” he muttered, his voice dripping with frustration.

The guards’ eyes widened in horror as light engulfed Porco’s body, the deafening roar of transformation ripping through the forest. Trees splintered and cracked as the Jaw Titan emerged, its sleek, powerful form towering over the guards.

“Run!” one of them shouted, diving out of the way as Porco’s massive claw swiped down, scattering them like leaves.

Historia gasped as Porco’s Titan eyes locked onto her. Before she could react, his claw scooped her up gently, and she was lifted into the air.

“Wait—what are you—” she started, but her words were muffled as his massive jaws opened just enough to cradle her safely between his teeth.

The guards scrambled to their feet, shouting in panic. “The Queen’s been taken! Sound the alarm!” one of them yelled, fumbling for a signal flare.

Porco didn’t wait to see if they succeeded. With a powerful leap, he disappeared into the dense forest, his Titan legs carrying him swiftly and silently through the trees. The sound of the guards’ frantic shouts faded behind him as he pressed on, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and emotion.

What the hell am I doing? he thought, his Titan form bounding through the forest. He should have killed her. That was the mission. That was the plan. But instead, he had taken her, shielded her. He could still feel Ymir’s love clawing at him, overwhelming and relentless.

Historia, cradled in his Titan jaws, was silent, her mind racing. She didn’t know what to think. Why hadn’t he killed her? What was he planning? She looked down at the ground rushing past beneath them, the trees blurring together, and she couldn’t suppress the fear creeping into her chest.

But she also couldn’t ignore the strange sense of familiarity that lingered, the ghost of Ymir’s presence still hanging over her.

Porco pushed forward, deeper into the forest, his mind clouded with questions and conflict. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

…

The forest was a blur as Eren’s Attack Titan thundered through the trees, his massive form sending tremors through the ground with every step. The anger burning inside him was a raging inferno, each pulse of his heart fueling his determination to find Aurora. The thought of her hurt—or worse—because of Floch’s recklessness made his blood boil. Where the hell was she?

Finally, he spotted movement ahead. A cluster of Jaegerists was riding toward him, their horses rearing in panic as they noticed his looming form. Eren’s emerald eyes locked on the one at the center—Floch Forster. The sight of him made Eren’s rage erupt.

The Attack Titan roared, a deafening sound that rattled the treetops. The Jaegerists froze, terror etched on their faces. Even Floch, usually composed and self-assured, felt his blood run cold as Eren’s Titan closed the distance with horrifying speed.

In one fluid motion, Eren’s Titan arm shot out, his massive hand engulfing Floch and lifting him off his horse as if he weighed nothing. The rest of the Jaegerists scattered, shouting in alarm as Floch dangled helplessly in the Titan’s grip.

Eren emerged from the nape of his Titan, his human form drenched in steam as his furious gaze bore into Floch. The Jaegerists watched from below, petrified, unsure if they should flee or stay put.

“ Where is my wife? ” Eren growled, his voice dripping with venom.

Floch’s breath hitched as Eren’s grip tightened slightly, the pressure making it hard to breathe. He tried to calm his racing heart, but the pure, unfiltered rage in Eren’s eyes made him realize just how precarious his situation was.

“Aurora is fine!” Floch managed to croak out, his voice strained. “She stayed back—with Mikasa and Levi.”

Eren’s expression changed, his eyes widening. “She stayed back?” he repeated, the anger momentarily giving way to confusion. His mind raced. What the hell is she planning?

But the confusion didn’t last long. Eren’s grip tightened again, eliciting a strangled gasp from Floch. “You went after Mikasa and Levi without my orders,” Eren hissed, his voice low and dangerous. 

Floch winced but tried to defend himself. “They’re a threat, Eren! They could ruin everything we’ve built. I was doing what needed to be done.”

“ What needed to be done?! ” Eren roared, his voice echoing through the forest. The Titan’s hand clenched tighter, and Floch yelped in pain. “Your recklessness could have gotten Aurora hurt! Do you understand that? If anything had happened to her because of you, I’d have torn you apart with my bare hands! ”

Floch’s face turned red, both from anger and lack of air. “Aurora knew what she was doing!” he shot back, his voice cracking. “She’s as much a part of this fight as any of us. She’s the one who nearly killed Levi in the first place! Don’t pin this all on me!”

Eren’s jaw clenched, his emerald eyes blazing with fury. “You’re not listening, Floch. I am the Commander. I give the orders, not you. You will act when I tell you to act. Do you understand?”

Floch’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded reluctantly. “I understand.”

“Good.” Eren’s glare didn’t waver. “Because if you ever defy me like this again, you won’t get the chance to apologize.”

Floch didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. The fear in his eyes told Eren that the message had been received loud and clear.

Without another word, Eren’s Titan hand opened, releasing Floch. He fell unceremoniously to the ground, coughing and gasping for air. The other Jaegerists rushed to help him, but Eren ignored them. His mind was already elsewhere—on Aurora.

Climbing back into the nape of his Titan, Eren took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside him. But it was no use. Aurora was out there, possibly in danger. Mikasa was unpredictable in her current state, and Levi was incapacitated but still a threat. Eren couldn’t let them harm her.

His Titan roared once more, a terrifying sound that sent birds scattering from the treetops. Then, without another word, the massive figure turned and resumed its thunderous charge through the forest, heading straight for Aurora.

The Jaegerists watched in stunned silence as Eren’s Titan disappeared into the distance. Floch slowly got to his feet, brushing off the hands of those trying to help him. His teeth clenched in frustration as he watched Eren go. This wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

But for now, all Floch could do was lick his wounds and prepare for whatever came next.

…

Meanwhile, the dense canopy of trees shaded Aurora, Mikasa, and Levi as they remained hidden, their breaths synchronized with the gentle rustle of leaves above. It had been over an hour since Aurora administered the antidote to Levi. She glanced down at his arms, now mostly free of the purple veins that had marked his near-death state. The color was returning to normal, though his skin was still pale, and his breathing ragged.

"He's strong," Aurora murmured, almost to herself, as she gently dabbed at his forehead with a cool cloth. "To have held on for so long against that... It must’ve been agonizing."

Mikasa, perched nearby with her arms crossed and her eyes scanning the area below for any signs of Jaegerist pursuit, said nothing. She had heard Aurora’s words, but her focus remained elsewhere. Still, her peripheral vision caught the way Aurora’s hands trembled slightly as she worked.

Aurora let out a soft, shaky sigh and put her head in her hands. Her mind was replaying Levi’s words from that fateful day. “You’re pathetic.” The harshness of his tone lingered, cutting deeper than she liked to admit.

Mikasa glanced at her again, her stoic expression softening just slightly. Mikasa had been wrestling with her own conflicting emotions for hours now. As much as she wanted to hate Aurora, as much as she wanted to brand her a monster, Mikasa couldn’t ignore the truth she had seen in Aurora’s eyes. The woman clearly hadn’t wanted to hurt Levi. But like all of them, she had been forced to make impossible choices.

And Mikasa understood better than anyone how desperation could drive you to extreme lengths for the person you love.

Levi suddenly groaned, breaking the silence. His eyes fluttered open, the sharpness in his gaze locking onto Aurora immediately.

Aurora tensed, her guilt momentarily overshadowed by her instinct to protect herself. Levi’s eyes narrowed as he tried to sit up, his muscles straining as he reached for where his blades would’ve been. He was still too weak to move much, but his intent was clear.

“ What the hell is she doing here? ” Levi rasped, his voice hoarse but unmistakably hostile. His eyes darted to Mikasa, his brows furrowing. “And why the hell aren’t you doing anything?”

“Captain, stop.” Mikasa gently pushed him back down, her hands firm yet careful. “She’s the one who saved your life.”

Levi’s jaw clenched, his eyes snapping back to Aurora. “That’s bullshit.” His voice was sharper now, despite his weakened state. “She’s the reason I’m in this mess to begin with. You expect me to believe she suddenly decided to save me?”

Aurora winced at his words, but she held her ground. She met his glare, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. "It's the truth, Captain," she said quietly but firmly. "I didn’t want to kill you. I told you that before I even tried to inject the poison. You gave me no choice. Was I supposed to just sit back and let you kill my husband?"

Levi’s eyes narrowed further, his mistrust deepening. “Your husband is a threat to all of us,” he spat. “And don’t try to act like some innocent bystander. You’re as dangerous as he is.”

Aurora’s fists clenched, her knuckles whitening as she tried to keep her composure. “I’m dangerous because I had to be,” she shot back. 

Levi scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. “What are you talking about?”

Aurora hesitated for a moment, then drew in a deep breath. Her hands instinctively went to her abdomen, a small yet unmistakable gesture. “I’m pregnant,” she admitted softly. “Almost two months now.”

The confession landed like a thunderclap. Both Levi and Mikasa froze, their eyes widening in unison. For a moment, the tension in the air seemed to evaporate, replaced by sheer shock.

Mikasa’s lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Levi, on the other hand, gritted his teeth, his gaze flickering between Aurora’s hands and her face.

“You’re lying,” Levi finally said, though his voice lacked conviction.

“I’m not,” Aurora said, her tone unwavering. “I’d have no reason to lie about this.”

Mikasa’s hands curled into fists as the reality of Aurora’s words settled over her. Eren was going to be a father. The thought made her chest tighten in a way she didn’t fully understand—or maybe didn’t want to understand. She forced herself to focus on the situation at hand, pushing those emotions aside.

Levi, however, was seething. “So what?” he growled. “You think being pregnant gives you the right to poison me? To kill the Premier? To—”

“I’m not excusing what I did,” Aurora interrupted, her voice trembling slightly but resolute. “I know what I’ve done, and I know I’ll carry that guilt with me for the rest of my life. But everything I’ve done—everything—has been for my family. For Eren. For this child.” Her hand pressed more firmly against her abdomen. “I won’t apologize for protecting them.”

Levi’s glare softened by a fraction, though his expression remained stormy. “You’re no different from him,” he muttered. “Justifying all the blood on your hands because you think it’s for some greater good.”

Aurora flinched but held his gaze. “Maybe I am like him. But if you think you wouldn’t do the same for the people you care about, then you’re lying to yourself.”

Levi didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as he looked away. Mikasa, still processing the revelation, finally spoke.

“If you really feel guilty,” she said, her voice quiet but firm, “then stop this. Stop the killing. Stop enabling him.”

Aurora’s expression hardened. “If there were another way, don’t you think I’d have taken it? You don’t understand, Mikasa. You’ve never lived in Marley. You’ve never seen the hatred they have for us. There’s no reasoning with them. They want us dead—every single one of us. I wish it didn’t have to be this way, but it’s kill or be killed.”

Mikasa’s eyes burned with a mix of anger and sadness. “There’s always a choice,” she said. “Eren doesn’t have to do this. And neither do you.”

Aurora shook her head, her voice breaking slightly. “I hope one day you’ll understand. I really do. But until then, I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my family.”

The three of them fell into silence, the weight of their choices and the paths they had taken hanging heavily in the air. Aurora turned back to Levi, her expression softening.

“For what it’s worth,” she said quietly, “I’m sorry. Truly. I never wanted any of this.”

Levi didn’t reply, but for the first time since waking up, the fire in his eyes seemed to dim ever so slightly.

His face was a mixture of disdain and irritation as he leaned back against the thick branch of the tree they’d taken refuge in. His body still felt sluggish, his strength not yet fully returned, and it irked him to no end. He hated feeling weak. He hated even more that the person who’d brought him to this state—a pregnant civilian—was sitting just a few feet away, calmly speaking about the horrors of the world like she wasn’t partially responsible for the chaos around them.

His hand instinctively clenched into a fist, though it lacked the force it would usually have. Pathetic. That was how he felt. Pathetic for being blindsided by Aurora Jaeger of all people. And even more pathetic for feeling the smallest shred of understanding for her.

Mikasa was silent, perched on a nearby branch, her dark eyes focused on Aurora as though trying to discern her every intention. She hadn’t said a word since the bombshell of Aurora’s pregnancy, but Levi could sense her inner turmoil. It was written all over her face.

Aurora glanced between the two of them. She could feel the weight of their judgment, but she didn’t let it deter her. Instead, she took a deep breath, her ice-blue eyes settling on Levi.

“Captain,” she began softly, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. “I need you to understand something. Floch went after you and Mikasa on his own. Eren never sanctioned it.”

Levi’s lip curled, a mix of disbelief and frustration. “Convenient,” he muttered. “Blame it all on Floch and expect us to believe Eren had no idea.”

“It’s the truth,” Aurora insisted, her gaze unwavering. “Eren didn’t want this. He doesn’t want to fight you. He doesn’t want to work against his comrades. He wants you all to be on the same side.”

Levi let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You’re delusional if you think we’re all going to sit around a campfire singing songs after everything he’s done.”

Aurora flinched but pressed on. “I know it’s hard to believe, but he doesn’t want this division. He needs your strength. Both of you. The Ackermans are the strongest warriors Paradis has, and right now, we have way too many enemies to be fighting each other.”

Levi narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re talking about Marley.”

“Not just Marley,” Aurora said, her voice growing firmer. “It’s the entire world.”

That gave Levi pause, though his expression didn’t soften. Mikasa tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in thought. Aurora saw the flicker of understanding in their eyes, and she continued.

“I know you both went to the Subjects of Ymir Protection Group summit when you were in Marley,” Aurora said, her voice quieter now, tinged with sadness. “I know you heard it firsthand—what the world thinks of us. They don’t see us as people. To them, we’re devils. Monsters who deserve to be wiped off the map.”

She let her words hang in the air, her gaze steady. “You’re going against Eren because you think what he’s planning is wrong, and I’m not saying genocide isn’t wrong. But tell me—what’s your solution? Should we roll over and let the world bomb us out of existence?”

Mikasa stiffened, her lips pressing into a thin line. Levi’s jaw worked, his teeth grinding together as he processed her words. Neither of them answered.

Aurora leaned forward slightly, her tone softening. “I know how hard it is to face this truth. I lived in Marley for most of my life. I’ve seen their hatred firsthand. I’ve heard them talk about how Paradis doesn’t deserve to exist. You can’t reason with people who see you as less than human.”

Levi’s hand twitched, his knuckles brushing against the bark of the tree. “You’re justifying mass murder,” he said coldly.

Aurora shook her head. “No. I’m saying it’s survival. Eren and I aren’t doing this because we want to. We’re doing it because we have no other choice.”

“Bullshit,” Levi snapped, his voice sharp. “There’s always a choice.”

Aurora’s eyes flickered with emotion—frustration, pain, desperation. “Do you think Eren would be doing this if there were another way? Do you think he wants to hurt his friends? He’s seen the future, Captain. He knows what’s coming. He knows what will happen if we don’t act.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“ It does! ” Aurora interrupted, her voice rising slightly before she caught herself. She took a deep breath, calming her tone. “It does mean that. Because if we don’t fight, we die. And not just us. Everyone we care about. Everyone on this island. Eren and I are willing to do whatever it takes to protect each other, to protect Paradis, and to make sure our child has a future.”

Her hand rested on her abdomen, a protective gesture that didn’t go unnoticed. Levi’s eyes flicked to her hand, his expression unreadable. Mikasa’s fists clenched at her sides, her conflicted emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

Aurora looked directly at Levi, her voice softening. “I know you think I’m a monster. Maybe I am. But I’m not asking you to forgive me. I’m asking you to think about what’s at stake. You’ve seen what Marley is capable of. You’ve seen how the world hates us. You know what’s coming.”

Levi didn’t respond immediately. He leaned his head back against the tree, closing his eyes briefly as if trying to block out her words. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost weary. “You’re asking us to sacrifice everything we believe in.”

“I’m asking you to survive,” Aurora said quietly. “To give us a chance.”

Silence settled over the group once more, heavy and oppressive. The weight of their decisions hung in the air, unspoken but palpable. Aurora’s eyes darted between Levi and Mikasa, searching for some glimmer of understanding.

She could only hope they’d see the truth before it was too late.

But suddenly, the dense foliage of the forest rustled with the voices of intruders. It must be Floch and the Jaegrists returning . Aurora froze, her heart pounding as the unfamiliar tones drifted up toward the canopy. Levi, still weak and leaning against a tree trunk, instinctively tried to move, his fingers twitching toward his gear, but Aurora placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"You can’t move right now," she whispered urgently, her ice-blue eyes locking on his. "You have to rest, Captain. Let Mikasa and me handle this."

Levi scowled, hating his helplessness, but he didn’t argue. His body was still far from cooperating, and he knew any attempt to engage now would only end in disaster.

Mikasa crouched on a branch above them, her sharp eyes narrowing as she scanned the forest floor. She leaned forward, gripping her gear tightly, but what she saw made her blood run cold.

Beneath the trees, standing amongst the shadows, was Reiner Braun. His towering frame was unmistakable, and the golden hair only confirmed his identity. Beside him stood a woman with wavy, black hair and tired but calculating eyes—a face Mikasa didn’t recognize. Flanking them were two men clad in Marleyan tactical gear, weapons glinting under the sparse sunlight filtering through the canopy.

Mikasa’s heart sank. This was bad. What were they even doing here? How did the get here?

Reiner’s eyes flicked upward, and for a brief moment, their gazes met. Mikasa cussed under her breath, her instincts screaming at her to move. Without hesitation, she darted back to the others, her expression grim and voice tense.

"Enemies," she hissed. "Reiner and a group of Marleyans. We need to move. Now."

Levi’s tired eyes sharpened with urgency, but his weakened state held him back. "Damn it," he growled, frustration bubbling beneath his rasping tone. "Go, Mikasa. Take Aurora and get the hell out of here."

Aurora’s heart sank at his words. "No," she protested. "You can’t stay here. Not like this. Mikasa, take Levi and run—I can hide. They won’t find me!"

Mikasa gritted her teeth, her hands tightening around her blades as she glanced between the two of them. Time was slipping away, and the tension in the air was suffocating. Aurora’s plea cut through her thoughts, but Levi was already shaking his head.

"Take her," Levi ordered, his voice steel despite his condition. "I’ll stay behind and hold them off."

Aurora’s chest tightened, her resolve hardening. "Absolutely not," she snapped. "Captain, you can’t even stand. They’ll kill you. I can stay behind and—"

"This isn’t a debate!" Levi barked, glaring at her with what strength he could muster. "You’re pregnant, for crying out loud."

Aurora faltered, the weight of his words sinking in, but her determination didn’t waver. "And if we leave you here they’ll kill you."

The irony of the situation hit Mikasa like a ton of bricks. They were both trying to save each other, their voices rising in whispered arguments while danger loomed just beyond the trees.

"Enough!" Mikasa’s voice cut through the tension, her calm demeanor breaking under the pressure. She unsheathed her blades with a metallic hiss, stepping away from Levi and Aurora. "If you won’t leave, then I’ll go deal with them myself."

"Don’t be an idiot," Levi snapped, trying and failing to push himself upright. "You don’t know what tricks they have up their sleeves. They’ll kill you if you go in alone and without any thunderspears!"

Mikasa didn’t respond, her focus locked on the direction of the approaching enemies. Reiner’s deep voice echoed faintly through the trees, barking orders as the distinct sound of a titan transformation shook the forest floor.

Pieck Finger, in her Cart Titan form, had arrived.

Aurora reached for Mikasa’s arm, her grip firm but desperate. "Mikasa, please—don’t do this alone. I can—"

"You’ve done enough," Mikasa interrupted, her voice cold and precise. "Stay here. Protect him." Her eyes flicked to Levi briefly before narrowing on Aurora. "And if they find you, run."

Before Aurora could respond, Mikasa launched herself into the air, her ODM gear hissing as she propelled herself toward the enemy. Aurora’s heart pounded as she watched Mikasa disappear into the trees, her figure swallowed by the dense canopy.

Levi clenched his jaw, his frustration evident. "She’s going to get herself killed," he muttered.

Aurora knelt beside him, her hands trembling as she checked the straps securing his weakened body to the tree. "No," she said softly, almost to herself. "She won’t. She’s too strong for that."

But even as she spoke, doubt gnawed at her mind. The sound of Pieck’s Titan roared through the forest, and the ground trembled beneath her feet. Aurora swallowed hard, her gaze darting toward the direction Mikasa had gone.

If Reiner and the Marleyans wanted her, they were going to have to go through Mikasa first. But Aurora wasn’t sure if even Mikasa alone could stand against the full might of two titan shifters without her usual arsenal of weapons.

Mikasa zipped through the trees, her blades a blur as she clashed with both the Armored and Cart Titans. Reiner, relentless as always, charged forward with his hardened fists, while Pieck’s Cart Titan form maneuvered with terrifying speed. Mikasa was putting her all into the fight, but she was clearly struggling against the two Titans with just her blades. Alone, even she could only hold her ground for so long.

Meanwhile, back in the trees, Aurora crouched beside Levi, gripping Mikasa’s abandoned rifle. Her hands trembled as she tried to steady it, the weight unfamiliar and overwhelming. Her heart pounded so loudly she could barely hear the chaos below.

Levi, leaning weakly against the trunk of the tree, glanced at her and raised a brow. "You’ve never held a gun before, have you?"

Aurora shot him a sarcastic look, muttering under her breath, "What gave it away? The shaking hands or the fact that I almost dropped it twice?"

Levi let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Just don’t shoot me. You already tried to kill me once." His voice carried a wry edge, but there was an almost imperceptible flicker of humor in his steely eyes.

Aurora rolled her eyes, gripping the rifle tighter as her nerves tightened. "I can only promise that I’ll try my best not to."

Their tense banter was cut short by the crunch of branches below. Aurora’s breath hitched as two figures emerged from the underbrush, climbing toward them with swift precision. The Marleyan soldiers were coming to investigate where Mikasa had emerged from.

Aurora glanced at Levi, who was clearly too weak to move, let alone fight. This is bad.

The soldiers reached the branch where Aurora and Levi were perched, their eyes widening in surprise at the sight of the two. One of them, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, sneered. "Well, well. Look who we have here. Captain Levi Ackerman, looking half-dead. And…" His gaze flicked to Aurora, eyes scanning her distinct platinum-blonde hair and ice-blue eyes. "You must be Aurora Jaeger. What luck. Marley’s looking for you."

Aurora's grip on the rifle tightened, though it felt clumsy in her hands. She raised it with shaking arms, her aim wildly off as she pointed it in their direction. "Don’t come any closer!" she shouted, her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her.

The other soldier, a leaner man with sharp features, burst out laughing. "Look at her. She doesn’t even know how to hold it properly. What’s she going to do, accidentally shoot herself?"

Aurora’s heart pounded as her finger trembled on the trigger. She couldn’t let them kill Levi. She couldn’t let them take her. But her hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and she knew she’d miss.

Just as the soldier’s finger moved toward his trigger, a firm hand gripped her shoulder from behind.

"Move over," Levi rasped.

Aurora blinked in surprise as Levi’s arms reached around her, steadying the rifle in her hands. His touch was firm despite his weakness, and his sharp eyes locked onto the target.

"Hold it steady," he instructed, his voice low and commanding. "And don’t flinch."

Aurora nodded, her breathing ragged as she leaned into his support. Together, they aligned the rifle’s sights with the soldier’s head.

"Now," Levi whispered.

They pulled the trigger together, the rifle exploding with a deafening roar. The recoil was immense, and Aurora stumbled backward, crashing into Levi’s chest. He grunted, absorbing the impact as they both steadied themselves.

Below them, the burly soldier crumpled to the ground, blood pooling around his head.

The second soldier, stunned by the sudden attack, scrambled for his weapon, but Levi was already reloading the rifle with practiced speed. His movements, though slower than usual, were precise and efficient. He raised the gun again, his sharp eyes narrowing.

"Captain—" Aurora started to say, but before she could finish, the rifle fired again. This time, the bullet struck the second soldier in the shoulder, causing him to drop his weapon and cry out in pain.

Levi didn’t hesitate. He reloaded one more time, aimed, and fired. The second soldier fell lifelessly to the ground.

The forest fell eerily silent, save for the distant sounds of Mikasa’s fight against the Titans.

Aurora turned to look at Levi, her chest heaving. "How… How did you even manage that in your condition?"

Levi, pale and visibly exhausted, handed the rifle back to her. "I don’t miss," he muttered simply, his voice hoarse. "And don’t act so surprised. You helped."

Aurora stared at him for a moment, a mix of awe and guilt swirling in her chest. "I—thank you," she said softly, gripping the rifle tightly. "For saving me."

Levi gave her a tired but sharp look. "Just make sure you don’t need saving next time." His tone was biting, but the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

Aurora couldn’t help but let out a shaky laugh. "I’ll try."

Their brief moment of levity was interrupted by another roar in the distance. The ground shook slightly, signaling the continued battle between Mikasa, Reiner, and Pieck.

Aurora’s expression hardened. "We need to move. Mikasa can’t handle them alone."

Levi nodded, his exhaustion clear but his resolve unshaken. "Help me up," he ordered. "We’re not done yet."

Aurora struggled under Levi’s weight, her knees wobbling slightly as she braced herself to carry him on her back. She had seen Mikasa do it with ease earlier and figured she could manage—Levi wasn’t that much bigger than her.

"I can do this," she muttered, wrapping her arms around his legs and securing his weight.

She was wrong. So very wrong.

Levi might have been small in stature, but his body was pure muscle. The weight was far more than she had anticipated, and within seconds, her legs wobbled dangerously, threatening to topple over.

Levi's sharp voice cut through her struggle. "Put me down before you hurt yourself, you idiot!"

Aurora, gritting her teeth, tried to adjust her stance but nearly lost her balance entirely. She let out a startled gasp as she teetered, narrowly avoiding sending them both crashing down the tree.

"Okay, okay!" Aurora gasped, carefully lowering him back onto the branch. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she muttered, "You’re heavier than you look."

Levi scowled, his sharp gaze narrowing. "And you’re weaker than you look."

Aurora shot him a glare before letting out an exasperated huff. "Well, sorry for not having Ackerman-level strength!"

"Leave me here," Levi grunted, his voice filled with irritation. "You’re pregnant. The last thing we need is for you to hurt yourself—or worse."

"Not happening," Aurora snapped, already maneuvering around him. "I’m not leaving you here to die. So stop talking and let me try again."

Levi sighed, but there was a faint flicker of amusement in his otherwise hardened expression. "Your stubbornness rivals your husband’s."

With more caution this time, Aurora wrapped Levi’s arms around her neck and braced her legs properly. She wasn’t carrying him outright, but rather supporting him enough so that he could lean on her as they carefully descended. His weight was still considerable, but she managed to handle it better this time.

Levi, however, was grumbling the entire way. "The irony isn’t lost on me. The woman who almost killed me is now saving me."

"Yeah, well, let’s hope I don’t drop you again," Aurora muttered under her breath.

The moment the words left her lips, her footing slipped on the branch, and Levi’s weight shifted unexpectedly. With a yelp, she lost her grip entirely, and Levi fell backward, landing hard on the ground below with a loud thud.

" Captain! " Aurora cried, scrambling down after him, her hands covering her mouth in horror. "Oh my God, I’m so sorry!"

Levi groaned, lying flat on his back as he glared up at her. "You’re worse than Eren."

"I’m so sorry!" Aurora repeated, kneeling beside him. "I’ll give you one of my elixirs for the pain after this!"

"If I survive this circus act, that is," Levi muttered dryly, wincing as he tried to sit up.

Before Aurora could respond, a deafening sound ripped through the air. The ground shook violently as a large shadow loomed over them.

Reiner.

His Armored Titan emerged from the tree line, his imposing form dominating the landscape. His glowing eyes zeroed in on the platinum blonde woman and the weakened figure beside her. That hair—it matched the description perfectly. Aurora Jaeger.

Levi instinctively tried to move, but his body refused to cooperate. Aurora froze in place, her heart pounding in terror as the massive titan stomped toward them. She clutched the rifle tightly, but it felt useless against such a monstrosity.

Before either of them could react, Reiner lunged forward, his massive hand scooping Aurora up with terrifying ease. She screamed as his fingers curled tightly around her, trapping her in his grasp.

"Let her go!" Levi shouted, his voice hoarse as he struggled to stand. But his body betrayed him, leaving him helpless.

Aurora thrashed against Reiner’s grip, her screams muffled as his armored fist enclosed her completely. Her fear was palpable as she stared into the glowing eyes of the Armored Titan.

Suddenly, the ground trembled again, this time from rapid, thunderous footsteps approaching at alarming speed. A familiar roar echoed through the forest, shaking the very trees.

Aurora’s heart leapt. Eren.

The Attack Titan burst through the foliage, his emerald eyes blazing with fury. His gaze locked onto Reiner, and when he saw Aurora trapped in his rival’s grip, a murderous roar tore from his throat.

Reiner. 

Eren’s Titan wasted no time, charging forward with terrifying speed. Reiner, sensing the threat, tightened his grip on Aurora, enclosing her entirely within his armored fist.

Eren skidded to a halt, his fists hardening as he assessed the situation. He wanted nothing more than to rip Reiner’s head clean off, but Aurora’s life was at stake. He couldn’t risk harming her in the process.

Instead, Eren lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Reiner’s neck, forcing him into a brutal headlock. The two Titans grappled violently, their roars echoing through the forest. Eren’s foot came down hard on Reiner’s arm, pinning it to the ground.

With Aurora’s muffled screams urging him on, Eren shifted his focus. He began to mercilessly pry Reiner’s fingers off one by one, each snap reverberating with sickening intensity. The armored plating resisted, but Eren’s relentless strength eventually broke through.

Aurora tumbled free as the final finger was torn away. Eren’s massive hand reached down and carefully scooped her up, holding her protectively against his chest. His glowing eyes softened slightly as he ensured she was safe.

Reiner, furious and desperate, tried to retaliate, but Eren slammed him back into the ground with a deafening roar. His protective instincts had taken over completely. No one—no one—threatens Aurora and gets away with it.

For now, Aurora was safe. But the battle was far from over.

Chapter Text

Chapter 28

Porco, still in his Jaw Titan form, sprinted deep into the forest, his powerful claws digging into the earth as he covered as much distance as possible. The adrenaline from his encounter with Historia and her guards surged through his veins. He wasn’t even sure why he’d taken her. His mission was clear—kill Queen Historia Reiss, the only remaining royal-blooded individual on Paradis.

And yet here he was, defying orders. His Titan reached a towering tree, and with incredible speed, he climbed high into its canopy. Reaching a sturdy branch that could hold his weight, he leaned forward and gently spit Historia out onto it. She tumbled slightly, coughing and gasping for air, but otherwise unharmed.

Historia pushed herself up, clutching the bark of the massive tree as she glared at him. Her breathing was labored, but her voice was steady when she demanded, "What are you doing?"

Porco ignored her at first, coming out of his Titan’s nape in a burst of steam. He stumbled slightly as he emerged, his body drenched in sweat and his face pale from exhaustion. His hand raked through his blonde hair as his conflicted emotions tore at him. He avoided looking at Historia, his jaw tightening as he fought the storm of feelings inside him.

His mission was right in front of him. One quick movement, and it would be done. He would return to Marley, victorious, deserving of praise in the eyes of his superiors. But the moment he met Historia’s eyes—those large, piercing blue eyes—he felt something stir deep within him. Memories flooded his mind, but they weren’t his. They belonged to Ymir. Her love, her guilt, her longing for this woman standing in front of him overwhelmed him.

"Why can’t I do it?!" Porco shouted in frustration, slamming his fist into the trunk of the tree. The bark splintered under the force, sending loose leaves fluttering down around them.

Historia flinched at his outburst but didn’t move from her spot. She could see the war raging within him, the way he clenched his fists, trembling with rage—or perhaps something else entirely. 

“You’re struggling,” she said softly, her voice calm despite the situation. “I can see it. I can feel it.”

Porco glared at her, his golden eyes burning with conflicting emotions. “ Stay back ,” he growled, jerking away when she took a cautious step toward him. "Don't come near me."

But Historia didn’t listen. She continued forward, her movements slow and deliberate. “You’re not going to hurt me,” she said, her voice filled with quiet certainty. “I know that.”

"Shut up!" Porco barked, his voice cracking slightly. He took a step back, his back pressing against the massive trunk of the tree. “You don’t know anything!”

“I know that Ymir’s spirit is in you,” Historia said, her tone unwavering. "I know you have her memories. That’s why you’re hesitating.”

Porco froze, his body going rigid at her words. His breath hitched, and his heart pounded painfully in his chest as he looked at her. 

Historia smiled faintly, her expression a mixture of sadness and understanding. “I loved her,” she admitted, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “And she loved me. I can feel her in you. Her memories, her feelings—they’re a part of you now. You might not want to admit it, but if memories make up who we are, then a piece of Ymir lives on in you.”

Porco’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his hands clenching at his sides. “I’m not her,” he said firmly, his voice trembling. “I’m not Ymir.”

“I know you’re not,” Historia said gently. She stopped just a foot away from him, her hands trembling slightly as she raised one to cup his face. Porco flinched at the contact, his eyes widening in shock as her palm rested against his cheek. His skin burned under her touch, his heart racing uncontrollably.

“But you’re still carrying her,” Historia continued, her voice soft. “I can feel her through you.”

Porco stared at her, completely at a loss for words. The weight of her touch, her gaze, and her words pinned him in place. For the first time, he felt something crack within him—something raw and vulnerable that he didn’t know how to handle. His mission was right here, but how could he fulfill it when Ymir’s love for this woman coursed through him, intertwining with his own growing sense of conflict?

“Tell me your name,” Historia whispered, her voice breaking the silence.

Porco hesitated, his throat tightening. His instincts screamed at him to shut her out, to complete his mission and leave this all behind. But he couldn’t resist her gaze, the pull of her presence. “Porco,” he finally whispered, his voice barely audible. “Porco Galliard.”

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at Historia’s lips. “Porco,” she repeated softly. “I’m Historia.”

“I know,” Porco said hoarsely. “I know who you are.” He swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he clenched them into fists. “You’re the woman I’m supposed to… The woman Ymir…” His voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Instead, he slammed his fist into the tree again, his frustration boiling over. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing!”

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Historia said firmly, her hand still resting on his cheek. “You don’t have it in you.”

Porco’s golden eyes locked with hers, and for a moment, everything else fell away—the mission, Marley, Paradis, everything. All he could see was the woman in front of him and the weight of the memories he carried. He hated how conflicted he felt, how Ymir’s emotions tangled with his own, making it impossible for him to act.

"I can’t," Porco finally admitted, his voice breaking. "I can’t hurt you."

And for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to feel the full weight of his humanity.

He sat on the branch, his head in his hands as the weight of his mission crashed down on him. Historia’s words echoed in his ears, her soft yet unrelenting voice cutting through the chaos in his mind. He looked at her, the woman he was sent to kill, and for a moment, he was paralyzed. Her piercing blue eyes, filled with both strength and sorrow, bore into him, challenging everything he’d ever believed.

“I don’t know what you’re planning,” Historia said carefully, her voice steady, “but it’s clear you’re struggling with it. Why are you here, Porco? Is this mission for you? Or for Marley?”

Porco’s jaw tightened as her words struck a nerve. He hesitated, unable to look at her. “I’m here because I have to be,” he muttered, his voice low and defensive. “Eren Jaeger is a threat to the entire world. Marley can’t risk letting him live.”

Historia frowned, stepping closer to him despite the danger he presented. “And you think killing me will stop him?” she asked, her tone sharp. “Because that’s what you’re here to do, isn’t it? Kill me.”

Porco’s breath hitched. He didn’t answer, but his silence spoke volumes. Historia’s eyes softened, though the tension between them remained palpable.

“You’re doing this for Marley,” she said, more a statement than a question. “But is this what you want?”

Porco finally looked up at her, anger and frustration flashing in his golden eyes. “What I want doesn’t matter!” he snapped. “Do you think any of us get to choose? Marley made us warriors to carry out their orders. We don’t get a say in this!”

“That’s not true,” Historia replied, her voice unwavering. “You’re standing here, right now, with a choice. You’ve had one all along.”

Porco clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. “You don’t understand,” he growled. “Eren Jaeger is going to destroy the world if he’s not stopped. And as far as Marley knows, you are the key to him unlocking the Founding Titan’s true power. If you die, his plans fall apart.”

Historia’s expression shifted, a mixture of sadness and understanding crossing her face. “So that’s what this is about,” she said softly. “You’re here to kill me to stop Eren.”

Porco’s throat tightened, but he didn’t deny it. He leaned back against the trunk of the tree, trying to steady his racing heart. “This isn’t personal,” he muttered, though the words felt hollow. “You’re just a piece in this war.”

“Is that what Marley told you?” Historia asked, stepping closer. “That I’m just a ‘piece’? That we’re all just ‘island devils’ who deserve to die?”

Porco’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You are devils,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “Your people have caused nothing but problems.”

“And you think Marley hasn’t?” Historia shot back, her voice rising. “Do you even realize what you did to us? Your people invaded our home, tore down our walls, and turned our lives into hell! You didn’t even give us a reason. We didn’t even know why we were being eaten alive.”

Porco’s eyes flickered with guilt, but he forced himself to hold her gaze. “That’s war,” he said grimly. “It’s always hell for someone.”

“It’s hell for everyone ,” Historia countered, her voice breaking slightly. “You think we wanted this? You think we asked for Eren to become the monster he is now? Marley made him. Marley made us . You and I—we’re both Eldians. We’re the same, no matter what propaganda Marley feeds you.”

“Don’t,” Porco said, shaking his head as if to block out her words. “Don’t act like we’re the same.”

“But we are ,” Historia said firmly. “You and I, and every Eldian in Marley’s internment zones, and every person on this island—we’re all the same. We’re people who just want to live. And Marley has turned us against each other. They’ve divided us so they can control us.”