"M-M-Marco?" I shutter under the pressure. "W-Wha--" No. It can't be. My best-friend died 2 months ago. I've seen his corpse rooting on the streets, half of it bitten off. I've helped the nurses colecting his corpse. I've seen his bones and flesh being burned down in the fireplaces. I swore to his bones that l would join the Survey Corps instead of going to the Military Police. I swore that I would help people and make his death not useless. I swore that I would move on. Marco Bodt is dead. What?
10 parts