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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ARMIN KNEELS, STARING DOWN at the unsettling sight of his own body lying motionless beneath him, every detail painted in a chilling clarity. His own face looks alien to him—eyes darkened, hollow, and sunk deep as if all light has been drained from them, mouth slightly open in a silent, lifeless gasp. He's surrounded by an endless void of dark water that stretches as far as he can see, making his own form seem small, fragile, and unbearably vulnerable.
Frustration boils within him, and his fists clench as he fights to control the tremor in his voice. "You're my body," he hisses, voice raw and breaking, "And I'm telling you to move. So why won't you do it?" Each word wrenches itself from his throat, a plea almost indistinguishable from a command. His voice catches, betraying the helpless fury that gnaws at him, a desperation pulsing louder than the stillness around him.
Armin's voice shatters the silence, echoing through the empty void as he leans over the lifeless shell of his own body. His fists tremble, knuckles white as he pounds against the ground, desperation pouring out in hoarse cries. "You have to move! I'm begging you!" His voice breaks, unsteady with raw emotion, "If you don't, they'll all be killed!"
One by one, he calls out their names, each word like a knife tearing through him, "Reiner, Pieck, Jean, Connie, Mikasa, Annie, Juliet." Each name trembles, his voice cracking further until only hollow breaths escape him.
Hot, angry tears slip down his face, blurring his vision as he stares down at his own lifeless form. The helplessness consumes him, his heart twisted into knots.
"Every last one of them is gonna die!" he chokes out, "Get up! You waste of space!" He barely recognizes his own voice, broken and scornful. "Human garbage!" he spits, fists clenched tight, "Worthless piece of shit!"
As he cries out, hot tears slip from his eyes and fall, splattering onto the cold, empty face of his body below. His chest heaves with sobs that he cannot hold back, each tear that lands only a reminder of his own bitter helplessness.
Armin's fists crash down again and again as his voice rises in a crescendo of pain and fury. "I hate you," he screams, each word venomous, raw, "I hate you. And I always have!" His chest heaves as he glares down at his lifeless body, eyes wild, the fury in him igniting like a storm.
"Because you've never done anything but betray me!" The accusation tears from him, hoarse and guttural, his voice breaking as it echoes around the void. The weight of everything—of every shattered hope and agonizing sacrifice—piles onto his shoulders. "The hopes pinned on us... the responsibilities we accepted, the second life we were given," he chokes out, voice thick with anguish, "You haven't done a thing with any of it!"
His voice cracks as he raises it once more, fierce desperation spilling out, "So get up! How dare you lie here, dead!" His fists beat against the ground, each impact echoing with the intensity of his pain, "Get up! Get your worthless ass off the ground!"
