I Joked About No One Wanting To Be Reincarnated In Attack on Titan And Well...

Chapter 7: How To Run Away From Losers

Author's Note: I hope I made you cry in misery or excitement on that last one. Or maybe both. I was hurt while writing it too. So this took me a long time to make. I hope they're all going to be okay by this chapter :( I seriously dont want them to be in pain ever again but it's fun hurting you all. No offense, but I feel like you guys like being hurt too. Not saying you guys have a giant 'M' or anything. Anyways, prepare for battle. Cause like, Idk, just in case? Enjoy my trash.

._.

God gave me a gift that allowed me to have a loud, beautiful, voice combined with my knowledge. One only I can do the moment I woke up in a world that's on it's way to kill me for a second time. What do I do with this gift? It may just surprise you.

I mean, if yelling "I Got The Power" and "Cant Touch This" on top of the main HQ building swarmed by Titans and proving in front of Jean's sorry ass that I was right when I said I could do anything I wanted, I dont know what is.

But that's not the issue right now.

It isn't long before Armin, Hanna, and I, meet along with the others. Thankfully we actually took our time because I thought it better than swinging at full speed with our gears considering all the emotional baggage we all just spilled. There were also lesser Titans than before this all began, which is another reason why we were able to walk our way. Just one problem:

Everyone gathering is either is ducking down, miserable or dying.

"Aye aye. . .Ave Maria. . ." I couldn't help but comment cause wow, "You guys look like my pet cat choked on my pet bird but both of them died." I added, I mean, I'm currently mad at the man right now but, "My God."

Everyone stares for a bit but stays in silent the majority of the time we wait. Armin sits down to the side for some alone time and Hanna walks to the other guys she seems closer to. Gram's here too.

"Hey." He calls out, a bitter snicker comes out of his lips, "Glad your not dead. Your loss would've broken my heart."

I choke on my own saliva after hearing that. I look at him, in shock and disgust at how he can say such scary things. I say a reference I from an old Netflix show called Sherlock that genuinely describes how I feel at that moment, "What the hell am I suposed to say to that?"

I'm proud of myself for saying that.

". . ." he pauses, his face, broken, "You hate it that much?"

"SO, Crackers." I say quickly, leaning close to a whisper as well as rocking my body forwards and backwards instinctively with hands behind my back, "You look more like dying than usual." I add, "Did something happen other than possibly witnessing the deaths of some of our comrades cause thats uh. . . . .yeah."

"Stop it. You suck at small talk." He blurts to my face, not even bothering to whisper it back. His eyes looks different from how cocky they usually look, it's actually hard to joke around knowing that. He breaks eye contact with me and turns his face away, "So, why were you crying?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Please."

"Please? Please, what? You're going to have to kneel if you want to ask me a favor cause if you don-"

"You're also quite terrible at lying."

"Yeah..." I confirm together with a sigh, "You are not wrong there." Although, I have a specialty in keeping secrets, I've never been quite skilled at lying cause honesty has always been one of the very cores of my beliefs. To combat this weakness of mine, I would usually ignore the question or just tell them flat out that it's none of their business. They've mostly worked.