A Thousand and One Lifetimes

14. Control The Fight

The evening air grows heavier as the sun dips below the horizon, painting the woods in shades of deepening blue. Armin walks through the clusters of students milling around the campgrounds, their chatter and, laughter mixing with the distant sound of Hange's voice booming through a megaphone, rallying participants for the night's games. His eyes stay locked on Eren's figure and he pulls his own hood up, the fabric brushing against his ears as he tries to remain inconspicuous. The deeper they move into the woods, the thinner the crowd becomes, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot. Armin slows his pace, his heart thudding as the gap between them widens. He has to be careful—not too close, not too far.

The Eren Yeager who woke up after the accident two years ago wasn't the same Eren he grew up with. If Armin is going to find out the truth, if he's going to understand who or what this person is, he's going to have to become a shadow.

Ahead, Eren pauses and glances around. Armin ducks behind a thick trunk, holding his breath. After a tense moment, Eren steps off the path and disappears into the darker expanse of the forest. Armin hesitates and his mind races. Where is he going? Why would he leave the campgrounds like this? And then he sees another figure waiting further in—a tall man. Principal Erwin.

Armin's brow furrows. Principal Erwin? What could Eren possibly have to discuss with him out here, away from everyone else? His first instinct is to follow them but if he gets caught...

He turns around and heads back to their shared tent. He's not sure how long Eren will be gone but maybe he'll find something if he goes through his things.

Back in the tent, Armin sits on the floor with a flashlight by his side as he rifles through Eren's belongings. His hands tremble slightly. His mind races with questions, his chest tight with unease. Who is this person? What has he done? What is he hiding?

After minutes of searching, he finds something—a small, leather-bound notebook tucked beneath a pile of spare clothes. His fingers hesitate, hovering over its surface. The leather is worn, the edges frayed, as though it's been handled countless times. He opens it carefully, the pages crackling faintly in protest.

The first page is blank, save for a scrawled date at the top: In Year 854, I died.

Armin's heart skips a beat. What?

The next page begins abruptly, the handwriting jagged and uneven, as if written in haste:

"In World 31, the Titans broke down the walls. Eren Yeager: deceased. Carriage accident."

Armin frowns. What is this? Titans? Walls? He flips to the next page, searching for context, but the entries grow stranger.

"World 164. Titans exist, but humanity thrives outside the Walls. Technology advanced. Met Armin, Mikasa. They're soldiers in a global army. I—he—am a farmer. Happy. Unmarried. 

I didn't stay long. Too peaceful. Too alien. They didn't know me."

The flashlight trembles in Armin's hand. He scans the page again, trying to piece together the disjointed sentences. 

"World 361. Armin dead. Executed as a rebel leader. Mikasa missing, presumed dead. Titans are controlled weapons, not enemies. The Reiss family are military officials. I'm a puppet. No control. No freedom."

Armin's breath catches, his throat tightening. He was executed? His pulse quickens as he turns the page. He glances behind him and then back at the book.

"What the hell is this?" he mutters.

"World 491. I'm an orphan. Mikasa is married. She didn't want to talk to me.