Originally, Eren couldn't decide who to resent. Erwin, for living. Levi, for refusing to listen to the choice Eren wanted him to make. Armin, for fucking dying on him. Himself, for not realising. Reiner and Bertolt — well, fine, he does resent them, and that Beast titan, and Annie, and all of Marley, the "country" (whatever that is) across the sea that wants to kill them all.
Maybe all of the above. There's enough room inside Eren's heart to resent the entire world.
And then he'd had the veil lifted. Something sparked by Historia, the truth of the world and its (lack of) future.
It could never have been Armin. He wasn't there in the bizarre twisted mess of memory, the end of the war they hadn't known they were fighting, the end of the world itself. It was always Erwin.
Years from now, Eren will look through years and memory and tell his younger self to save Armin. If he could save Armin, maybe the future would somehow change. Maybe there would be another path. Maybe someone would have another answer.
There are so, so many things he still can't see. But he knows with a certainty that makes him sick that it has to be Erwin.
Maybe this is the last catalyst, the thing that breaks him. He couldn't save his mom. He couldn't save his best friend. He couldn't save Levi's squad.
He won't lose the rest of them, not now. If every other living thing on this nightmare planet has to die so they can live, then that's just how it has to be. He'll take Reiner's advice and keep moving forward no matter what. He'll take Levi's advice and rely on his own power.
He's surprised by Erwin's invitation. It could be an order, he guesses, but it doesn't feel like one. Anyway, they're all fooling themselves now if they think Eren will ever blindly follow orders again.
They walk a little.
Eren shrugs.
"I'm just a soldier," he says, "and you're the commander. I don’t expect you to come talk to me personally most of the time."
Eren is nothing if not unfair.
Erwin's gratitude and the people inside the walls' wrath and a hole in his heart, a chasm that has only grown since the day his mother died. Is that what he has?
He shrugs again, showing the lingering bits of moody teenager still left in him in these months — years? weeks? — before he crushes them into bland aloofness.
"I don’t know," he says. "I wanted to save humanity. But humanity...doesn't really deserve it. There's a world out there that wants to watch us all die. How am I supposed to feel?"
That's largely rhetorical. Two weeks ago he wouldn't have mouthed off even this much to Erwin. Then the whole world got turned on its head and who the hell cares about hierarchy and the chain of command?
Eren — and Erwin, now — faces a death sentence they cannot escape. People like them all die in thirteen years. What do you do with that?
If you're Eren, you begin to self-destruct.
"Are we gonna fight them?" he asks, changing the subject.
YESSS also pls excuse this entire novel orz
Maybe all of the above. There's enough room inside Eren's heart to resent the entire world.
And then he'd had the veil lifted. Something sparked by Historia, the truth of the world and its (lack of) future.
It could never have been Armin. He wasn't there in the bizarre twisted mess of memory, the end of the war they hadn't known they were fighting, the end of the world itself. It was always Erwin.
Years from now, Eren will look through years and memory and tell his younger self to save Armin. If he could save Armin, maybe the future would somehow change. Maybe there would be another path. Maybe someone would have another answer.
There are so, so many things he still can't see. But he knows with a certainty that makes him sick that it has to be Erwin.
Maybe this is the last catalyst, the thing that breaks him. He couldn't save his mom. He couldn't save his best friend. He couldn't save Levi's squad.
He won't lose the rest of them, not now. If every other living thing on this nightmare planet has to die so they can live, then that's just how it has to be. He'll take Reiner's advice and keep moving forward no matter what. He'll take Levi's advice and rely on his own power.
He's surprised by Erwin's invitation. It could be an order, he guesses, but it doesn't feel like one. Anyway, they're all fooling themselves now if they think Eren will ever blindly follow orders again.
They walk a little.
Eren shrugs.
"I'm just a soldier," he says, "and you're the commander. I don’t expect you to come talk to me personally most of the time."
Eren is nothing if not unfair.
Erwin's gratitude and the people inside the walls' wrath and a hole in his heart, a chasm that has only grown since the day his mother died. Is that what he has?
He shrugs again, showing the lingering bits of moody teenager still left in him in these months — years? weeks? — before he crushes them into bland aloofness.
"I don’t know," he says. "I wanted to save humanity. But humanity...doesn't really deserve it. There's a world out there that wants to watch us all die. How am I supposed to feel?"
That's largely rhetorical. Two weeks ago he wouldn't have mouthed off even this much to Erwin. Then the whole world got turned on its head and who the hell cares about hierarchy and the chain of command?
Eren — and Erwin, now — faces a death sentence they cannot escape. People like them all die in thirteen years. What do you do with that?
If you're Eren, you begin to self-destruct.
"Are we gonna fight them?" he asks, changing the subject.