Juliet Diekman is the daughter of a well-respected Marleyan scientist who works alongside the military.
In a new proposal, he is asked to go on an expedition to Paradis for research purposes before planning their big attack. He agrees, only if his b...
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JULIET'S SLEEP WAS PLAGUED by vivid nightmares. In her dreams, she wandered through the streets of Shiganshina. The homes and buildings she had crushed when they breached the wall looming around her like silent, accusing specters.
The devastation was all too familiar—the broken walls, the rubble, and the cries of the people she had doomed.
She walked through the ruins, her heart heavy with guilt, each step echoing the memories of her actions.
As she moved deeper into the dream, the scenes became more chaotic. The ruins blurred into a horrifying montage of collapsing structures and desperate faces, their voices a cacophony of pain and fear. Juliet's hands trembled as she reached out, trying to grasp the enormity of her guilt.
The weight of her actions was suffocating, pressing down on her chest like an iron vice.
She jolted awake, her body drenched in sweat, her heart racing. The familiar confines of her cell were a stark contrast to the nightmarish landscape of her dreams, but the horror lingered. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she tried to calm herself, her hands clutching the thin blanket beneath her.
But then she saw it—a vision of blood pooling in her palms, dark and viscous, spilling over the edges and dripping onto the cold, stone floor. The crimson liquid seemed to pulse with a life of its own, a reminder of the lives she had taken and the destruction she had wrought.
Juliet stared in horror, unable to tear her eyes away from the gruesome sight. Her hands felt cold and clammy, the phantom sensation of blood making her shudder.
The vision held her in its grip, each drop of blood a silent accusation, a testament to the irreversible damage she had caused. The blood continued to flow, a relentless reminder that no matter how much she tried to wash away her sins, they would always be there, staining her hands.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at her hands, the horror of the vision sinking deep into her bones.
Juliet's haunting vision of blood pooling in her hands was abruptly interrupted by the clanging of the door opening. She jerked her head up to see a military police officer entering the cell, Armin walking beside him. The officer carried a set of heavy, metallic cuffs in his hands, his expression stern and unyielding.
Armin stepped forward, beginning to speak, "Juliet, we need to move you to another location—" His words faltered as he noticed her trembling, her eyes wide with lingering fear.
He saw the pallor of her face, the sweat still clinging to her skin, and his heart ached with concern.
Juliet looked up at him, her eyes wide and filled with a raw vulnerability she struggled to mask. She quickly rubbed her eyes, trying to wipe away the remnants of her nightmare and the tears that had started to form. The motion was an attempt to compose herself, to hide the turmoil raging within her.
