Goodbye, Petra

~ 01 ~

Wind, ruffling through the air, carrying each member of the Survey Corpse with it as they flew over the rooftops of Trost: flinging themselves from building to building using their acquired gear, slicing through the countless amount o Titans, roaming the districts.

No one knew when it was going to stop; the piles of rotting corpses laying drenched in their own blood, most comrades were yet to join, each being torn apart, limb by limb as the Titans feasted on their organs. Pieces of the wall were still scattered over the towns, crushing the innocent, watching as they bled out from the weight, pinning them against the earth, suffocating them.

Along with the Survey Corpse, was Petra Ral, her ginger hair blowing as the wind gently caressed it. Her comrades flying either side of her as she jumped into the crimson battlefield to strike down those beasts. The beasts gnawing away on the people she loved and cared for, listening with horror, as each scream echoed the streets.

They were all helpless, done for, nothing could liberate them of their fate, their untimely, painful deaths. This was how it would stay, how they would live, how they would die. Whatever they tried to do to stop this fate would be pointless; it was already sealed.

Amongst the fallen and blood stained streets, walked Corporal Levi Ackerman, captain of the Survey Corpse, and one of humanity's last hopes. The man, unafraid of the Titans, of the blood, of the pain, of death itself, he was only pusillanimous of one thing; living without her. Living without Petra. If he could, he would die a thousand times, just so she could live. He'd give up each limb, just to hear her laugh. And every drop of blood in his body to feel her embrace, just as he did whenever a large mass of Titans were slaughtered. For her, he would give everything.

The shrieks grew more tumultuous, signalling the return of larger eighteen metre Titans, Titans who could suffocate ten humans with their smallest fingers, the ones who could deafen you with their thunderous roars. Nothing could compare with the pain anyone would feel if they were indeed unlucky enough to be caught in ones grasp. With the eighteen metre Titans, there seemed to be only 0.002% of hope, still left, deep inside each cadet.

With each blade, each strike, each scream, each earth-shaking fall, death was sure to follow. Trost, Shiganshina, the walls, all lost to them.

No one knew when it was going to stop.

No one knew when it was going to be alright again.

Until the last of the humans, we will never know...