Titan and Queen In Konosuba Fanfic Volume 2

Eren stood by the Guild window, sunlight warming his back, and let himself feel it—the weight of this world, not as a cage, but as something lived in. Friends. Purpose. A future not written in blood.

That night, the dream came.

Not the Rumbling itself—but its echo: Armin’s voice, Ymir’s warning. The suffocating dread of inevitability.

[—“Why did you want to see the outside world, Eren?”—]

He woke gasping, sweat cooling on his skin. The house slept around him—steady breaths from adjacent rooms, the creak of old wood. Safe. For now.

He rose, washed his face, and watched the stars. No more Colossals. Not here. He’d sworn it. But Ymir’s words clung: “They’re beneath this world too.”

A fresh dread, cold and sharp.

Then—morning.

He was stirring porridge in the kitchen when Historia appeared in the doorway, sleep-soft, hair loose, eyes still heavy. The morning light caught the gold in her hair, the quiet strength in her stance.

He didn’t look away. Didn’t need to.

Historia (smiling faintly): “What is it, Eren?”

Eren (clearing his throat): “Just… thinking.”

She blushed. He didn’t apologize.

Then—the gurgle.

Aqua burst into laughter.

Aqua: “Finally! I thought you’d become a statue!”

Historia (flustered): “It wasn’t me!”

Eren (dryly): “I skipped dinner. Titans burn calories.”

They ate in the sunlit dining room—quiet, comfortable.

Until the front door burst open.

Dust, smoke, and Megumin.

Darkness trailed behind, armor scuffed, eyes gleaming.

Megumin (grinning, soot on her nose): “Another successful detonation!”

Darkness (leaning toward Eren, voice dropping): “You look exhausted… Did you overexert yourself last night? With Historia?”

Eren’s spoon clinked against his bowl.

[Dina’s smile. Carla’s hand, slipping from his. The crunch of bone.]

He stood. Smooth. Silent.

Historia (soft, firm): “Eren.”

Her hand closed around his wrist.

Not demanding. Anchoring.

He didn’t pull away.

Just met her eyes—green to blue—and nodded.

Eren: “I’ll be back soon.”

He stepped outside.

The city hummed—bakers setting up, children chasing chickens, the blacksmith’s first hammer strike.

Normal.

Fragile.

His.

He walked—not to escape.

To remember how to carry the weight without breaking.

And behind him, in the doorway, Historia waited.
Eren stepped out into the morning air, the city’s familiar sounds washing over him—market calls, hammer strikes, distant laughter. His thoughts circled the same names: Armin. Mikasa. The weight of what he’d done, what he’d failed to stop, pressed down—not with fury now, but with a quiet, hollow ache.

A hand on his shoulder.

He turned.

Sasha—alive, grinning, here—grabbed his arm and yelled straight into his ear.

Sasha: “EARTH TO ERAN! Anyone home?!”

He blinked. Exhaled. A faint, tired smile touched his lips.

Eren: “You’re loud.”

Sasha (grinning): “And you look like you wrestled a bear and lost. Bad dream? About Historia, maybe?”

Eren (dryly): “I haven’t held her hand for memories in a while.”

Sasha (patting his cheek): “Good. Keep it that way. Some things are better left dreamt.”

She winked and sauntered off.

He watched her go—alive, hungry, unbroken—and for the first time, the memory didn’t twist into guilt. Just… gratitude.

Then—movement in an alley.

Dust and Keith, huddled, whispering.

Eren approached. Yawned.

They screamed.

Dust: “GUARDS! CAVALRY! SOMETHING!”

Keith: “DUST BETRAYED US!”

Eren waited, unimpressed, until Dust recognized him.

Dust (sly): “Ever heard of Succubi?”

Eren: “No.”

Dust (leaning in): “Dream-fulfillment. For a small fee. Energy. Coin. You know…”

Eren (flat): “Stupid.”

Dust (mock-offended): “That hurts, Yeager.”

Keith, though—met Eren’s gaze. Serious. Then—both broke into laughter. Not forced. Real. Dust sighed, defeated.

Dust: “Fine. One condition.”

—

The Succubus den was… exactly as advertised.

Incense. Velvet. Women with impossible curves and knowing smiles.

Dust and Keith gaped, slack-jawed.

Eren stood rigid, scanning the room like a battlefield—until one Succubus took his arm.

Succubus (softly): “Your form, sir. What dream do you seek?”

He hesitated.

Then—Carla’s laugh. Sunlight on the porch. Safety.

He wrote: “Be a child again. With my mother.”

The Succubus glanced at the paper—blinked—then smirked at her colleague.

Succubus 2 (whispering): “Oh, this one’s got ideas.”

Eren, oblivious, paid, pocketed the receipt, and left—just as Dust got dragged, grinning, behind a curtain.

---

Back at the mansion, night had fallen.

Laughter. Roasted crab. Aqua clutching a bottle like a sacred relic.

And Sasha—elbow-deep in shellfish, challenging Aqua to a “consumption duel.”

Historia pulled him in, hand warm in his.

Historia (smiling): “Darkness’s father sent this. As thanks.”

Eren (watching Sasha steal Aqua’s cup): “She fits right in.”

Historia beamed.

He didn’t stay.

Just watched them—alive, together—before slipping away to his room.

Lying back, ceiling dim in the lamplight, he let the truth settle:

[I love her.]
[I won’t lose her.]
[And if this world cracks open beneath us—I’ll hold it together with my bare hands.]

No rage.

Just resolve.

Outside, the feast continued.

Inside, Eren closed his eyes—not to sleep.

To prepare.
Eren—still buzzing from the feast’s stolen ale—forgot the Succubus form entirely.

He slept.

Hard.

At midnight, Aqua jolted awake—nose twitching.

Demon.

She roused the house. They found her on the roof: a petite, winged girl, trembling, oversized ears drooping.

Aqua (pointing, voice shrill): “There! The life-sucker!”

Eren stumbled in, hair disheveled, eyes bleary.

Eren (groggy): “What—?”

Aqua (whirling on him): “Your demon! I’ll purify it now!”

Eren (blinking): “…Wait. Don’t.”

Aqua: “WHAT?!”

Eren (rubbing his temples): “I hired her.”

Silence.

Then—explosion.

Aqua (screaming): “YOU HIRED A LIFE-SUCKING DEMON?!”

Eren frowned—not at her rage, but at the word.

Demon.

In his world, it had been a weapon. A label thrown at Eldians before they were caged, shot, erased.

Eren (low, cold): “Don’t use that word so lightly.”

Aqua (sputtering): “It’s literal! She has wings!”

Eren (gesturing to the cowering girl): “In my world, my people were called demons for existing. Used as an excuse to slaughter us.”
He met Aqua’s eyes—no anger. Just warning.
“I won’t let you do that to someone else.”

Aqua gaped.

Megumin whispered: “He just compared a Succubus to… genocide?”

Darkness: “But she’s… technically a demon?”

Aqua (shrieking): “SHE SUCKS ENERGY!”

Eren (frustrated): “I just wanted to sleep! Without the nightmares! I asked for a quiet dream—being a child again. Playing with my mother.”

The room went dead silent.

Then—

Darkness (horrified whisper): “…Mother?”

Megumin (covering her mouth): “Oh no.”

Aqua (tearing up): “Pervert demons! All of you!”

Eren (desperate, as the Succubus scrambled for the window): “Stop scaring her!”

Historia stepped in—calm, grounding.

Historia (gentle, to Eren): “A Succubus… what is it, exactly?”

Aqua crossed her arms.

Aqua: “An erotic demon.”

Eren (blank): “…What?”

Megumin groaned.

Megumin: “How do you not know this?”

Historia sighed—long, weary—and took Eren’s hand.

Historia: “Doesn’t matter. I trust you.”

Eren exhaled—finally—shoulders loosening.

The Succubus vanished into the night.

Aqua muttered about “moral decay.”

Darkness made a mental note: “Ask Eren about childhood trauma. Later.”

And upstairs, Eren crawled back into bed—not to dream of Carla.

But to rest.

For the first time in two lifetimes—unafraid.
The next morning, Eren and Historia walked to Wiz’s shop—quiet, side by side, the air between them still tender from the night’s chaos.

Wiz greeted them with a rare, thoughtful smile.

Wiz: “I have something… unusual.”
She placed a small, silver button on the counter—etched with faint, spiraling runes.
“It’s a one-time portal. Twenty-four hours. Takes you to another world—your world, I suspect.”
A pause.
“But beware: when you return, your memories of that time will be gone. Clean. Like waking from a dream you can’t quite grasp—only the feeling remains.”

Eren picked it up. Cold. Familiar.

Historia (softly): “Our world… as it is now?”

Wiz nodded.

Eren (to Historia): “If it’s peace… we’ll see it. If it’s war—we’ll know.”

She met his gaze.

No hesitation.

Historia: “Press it.”

—

Light swallowed them.

Then—sound.

Not birds. Not wind.

Explosions.

Eren hit the ground—instinct—rolling behind shattered concrete. Historia was already moving, blade drawn, eyes scanning.

The sky was choked with smoke.

Aerial gunships—sleek, angular, bearing a jagged sun emblem—swept low over ruined cities. Buildings lay in skeletal heaps. Craters pockmarked the earth where Wall Rose once stood.

No Titans.

Just war.

A refugee staggered past, coughing blood.

Refugee (rasping): “Hiiragi… they came from the east. No mercy. Said Paradis started it.”

Hiiragi. A name like a blade to the ribs.

They found a field hospital—makeshift, overrun.

A medic, exhausted, pointed to a mural on a crumbling wall: a young woman, crown askew, face stern but weary.

Medic: “Queen Historia’s daughter. She holds Paradis neutral. Refuses to retaliate. Says vengeance is what broke the world the first time.”
A bitter laugh.
“But Hizuru’s falling. Marley’s a ghost. Hiiragi wants everything.”

Eren’s hands curled into fists.

No Titans. And still—they burn.

Historia’s voice was barely there.

Historia: “My daughter… is she safe?”

Medic: “She lives. Leads. But… she never smiles.”

No sign of Mikasa. No Armin. Just absence.

They walked the ruins—silent.

The world they’d fought for—the one they’d bled to protect—was fracturing again. Not from monsters.

From people.

At the edge of a crater—where Shiganshina once stood—Historia knelt. Touched the ash.

Historia (whispering): “We thought… stopping the Rumbling would be enough.”

Eren didn’t answer.

He just stood—watching the smoke rise.

Freedom.
Peace.
Lie.

The button grew warm in his palm.

—

They woke on Wiz’s floor.

Sunlight. Quiet.

A hollow ache in their chests—deep, nameless.

Eren touched his temple.

Eren: “I… don’t remember.”

Historia (voice tight): “Neither do I. But… it wasn’t good.”

No details. No images.

Just the weight of disappointment—cold, heavy, final.

They walked back to the mansion in silence.

Not broken.

But changed.

The fantasy world—flawed, strange, alive—felt different now.

Not an escape.

A choice.

Inside, Aqua was arguing with Megumin over the last dumpling.

Darkness waved, breathless.

Darkness: “Eren! I dreamed you finally—”

Eren (cutting in, quiet but firm): “Not today.”

He sat at the table.

Historia beside him.

And for the first time—they didn’t look back.

They looked forward.

A knock at the door.

Megumin opened it—Luna stood there, pale, urgent.

Luna: “Eren—please. The Destroyer approaches.”

Eren didn’t flinch. Just nodded.

He’d heard the rumors from Dust’s team—whispers of a war machine, invulnerable, remorseless.

Eren (calm, to Historia): “We’ll handle it. No more innocents die. Right?”

Her breath hitched.

That voice—low, certain, his—sent heat flooding her cheeks.

Aqua cackled.

Aqua: “After this? Kiss. Everything. Got it?”

Eren/Historia (in unison): “What?!”

Luna cleared her throat.

Luna: “Seriousness, please.”

Eren (already moving): “Evacuations?”

Luna: “Done.”

At the Guild, veteran adventurers steeled themselves. Rookies trembled.

Then—Eren entered.

A murmur rippled through the hall.

“The Titan.”  
“The one who broke Verdia.”  
“If anyone can stop it…”

On the scrying orb, the Destroyer loomed—towering, skeletal, its barrier shimmering like heat haze.

Luna (to Aqua, desperate): “You can break it, right?”

Aqua froze.

Eren stepped beside her—quiet, steady.

Eren (softly): “You told me. Trust yourself.”

She exhaled—shook herself—and raised her hagoromo.

Aqua (voice ringing, defiant): “I’m Aqua, Goddess of Water! Eren—Geography—let’s end this! And yes—drinks after!”

A collective sweat-drop.

Eren just smiled—genuine—and turned to Darkness at the front line.

Eren: “Why do you fight? Beneath the… enthusiasm… you’re loyal. Strong.”

Darkness flushed.

Darkness: “Duty. To the weak. To my house—I’m Lalatina Dustiness Ford. I won’t abandon anyone.”

He nodded—then drew his knife.

Slashed his palm.

Darkness gasped.

Eren (watching the blood fall): “Cover me when Aqua breaks the barrier. I’ll finish it.”

Darkness (breathless, thrilled): “Yes.”

Above, the flare shot skyward.

The Destroyer advanced.

Aqua struck first—a bolt of divine light. It hit—rippled against the barrier—held.

Too strong.

Eren’s eyes narrowed.

[Autodestruct protocol. Predictable.]

Aqua gritted her teeth—and pushed.

Light flared—stones levitated—the barrier cracked.

Aqua (triumphant): “Done!”

Eren (already stepping forward): “My turn.”

Lightning split the sky.

Steam erupted.

The Colossal Titan rose—silent, immense—facing the machine.

Then—

BOOM.

Megumin’s Explosion tore the Destroyer’s leg clean off.

The machine staggered.

Megumin collapsed.

Megumin (grinning, spent): “Heh… participated.”

Historia snatched her up—ran—just as the Titan lunged.

No roar.

No rage.

Just work.

The Destroyer fell.

And in the smoke, ash, and ringing silence—

Eren stood.

The Destroyer’s optic sensors flared—lasers seared through the air, scorching the walls. The Colossal Titan charged, earth trembling, hands hardened just in time to shield its nape.

The machine halted its fire—advanced.

Eren’s Titan seized it—Annie’s move, clean, brutal—locking its limbs, pinning it in place.

Aqua trembled.

Aqua (near tears): “We’re not dying again—I just got used to this world!”

Historia watched—Eren, high above, fighting alone.

[Again. Always again.]

Her grip tightened on her dagger.

Historia (to herself, fierce): “I promised Ymir. No more obedience. No more fear.”

She leapt—darted—disabled secondary thrusters along the Destroyer’s back.

Historia (yelling over the din): “I won’t let you carry this alone!”

Inside the Titan, Eren’s pulse spiked—fear, sharp and cold. Not for himself.

For her.

He raised his hand—ready to call the War Hammer Titan—

Then—movement.

A flash of gold.

A smaller Titan—sleek, armored, jaws massive—slammed into the Destroyer.

Porco.

His Titan tore through limbs, crushed joints—efficient, vicious.

Porco (from the nape, voice rough): “Move, Yeager!”

Eren hesitated—Liberio. Shiganshina. Betrayal.—but there was no time.

He bit his hand.

The War Hammer Titan rose beside the Attack form.

Hardened spikes erupted—impaled the machine, lifting it, trapping it.

The War Hammer’s crystalline maul swung—once.

The Destroyer’s head shattered.

Silence.

Then—a whine.

Heat bloomed. Steam hissed.

Eren (instantly): “It’s overloading.”

Wiz appeared—calm, but eyes wide.

Wiz: “Core’s unstable. Coronatite’s about to detonate.”

They ran—inside the wreck.

Found it: a pulsing, violet crystal.

Eren (reaching): “If I—”

Aqua (grabbing his wrist): “Touch it, you die.”

Historia (to Wiz, steady): “Can you teleport it?”

Wiz (grim): “Random destination. Could land in a city.”

Historia (quiet, resolute): “Then I’ll bear the weight of that choice. Do it.”

Wiz nodded.

A flash of light.

The crystal vanished.

The machine powered down.

Alive.

All of them.

—

At the Guild, dusk painted the sky gold.

Aqua swayed, tankard in hand.

Historia leaned against the bar, cheeks flushed, laughing at something Sasha said.

Porco approached Eren—arms crossed, jaw tight.

Porco: “I helped you. Not because I trust you. But because she asked.”  
He jerked his chin toward Historia.  
“You died before the Rumbling. Falco devoured me after.”

Eren met his gaze—no defiance. No rage.

Just understanding.

Eren: “Then you saw what came after. The real enemy wasn’t Titans.”

Porco exhaled—sharp.

Porco: “Still… don’t think this makes us friends, demon.”

Eren (almost smiling): “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He turned—walked to Historia’s side.

She didn’t look up.

Just slid her hand into his.

No words.

Just presence.

Outside, Axel breathed—free, unbroken.

And for the first time in two lifetimes—

Eren Jaeger let himself believe: this was worth fighting for.

A laugh—low, warm, real—broke the tension.

Porco tensed, fist raised—until he saw Eren’s face.

Not mockery.

Relief.

Eren (quiet): “Falco, Gabi, Reiner—they’re safe. I can’t undo what I did… but at least that.”

The fight left Porco’s shoulders.

He looked at Historia—really looked.

The queen. The symbol. The woman whose memories lived in his bones.

Porco (gruff): “I’ll stay. For now.”  
A pause.  
“That one—she’s…?”

Eren: “Historia. Ymir’s oldest friend.”

Porco’s jaw tightened.

Porco: “I’m not apologizing for eating her.”

Eren: “We’re not soldiers here.”

Porco: “Or weapons.”

A beat.

Porco: “…Truce.”

They shook hands.

Eren gestured—come—to Historia.

Then walked away, leaving them alone.

Porco stood frozen—heart hammering, palms slick.

Ymir’s eyes. Ymir’s voice.

Historia (soft, smiling): “Porco Galliard? It’s a lovely name.”

Porco (snapping): “Don’t laugh, demon—!”

Historia (gentle): “I carry demon blood. But I won’t let it steal my humanity.”

He flinched.

Historia (voice cracking): “It’s been so hard for you… hasn’t it? You wanted to protect me. To marry me.”  
A tear fell.  
“Ymir… I’ve missed you.”

Porco staggered back—no, no, don’t—

But she stepped forward.

Arms open.

And pulled him into a hug.

Warm. Solid. Forgiving.

He didn’t resist.

Just stood—trembling—until his own tears fell.

Historia (whispering): “I’m sorry, Ymir. I never wanted to leave you.”

Porco (hoarse, returning the embrace): “…I’m sorry too, Historia.”

Not a warrior.

Not a weapon.

Just a man—and the ghost of a girl—finally letting go.

—

Later, at the mansion, Sasha arrived—nose first—to a mountain of food.

Sasha (eyes wide): “This world has everything.”

She spotted Aqua.

Paused.

Sasha (bowing deeply): “Lady Aqua! Thank you for the second chance!”

Aqua (beaming): “Third, if you count the trial run!”

Historia laughed—bright, unburdened.

Eren sat, bewildered, as the girls fussed over him.

Aqua (proudly): “Eat up! A friend needs fuel!”

Eren (blinking): “…Friend?”

Megumin (shoving a dumpling at him): “Eat.”

He did.

Not like a soldier.

Like a man—home.

Sasha demolished three roast chickens.

Historia gently pulled a drumstick from her grip.

Historia (smiling): “Pace yourself. The roast is infinite.”

Outside, the stars shone.

Inside, a table—full, loud, alive.

Historia (grabbing Sasha’s wrist): “Sasha—act like a lady!”

Sasha (grinning, mouth full): “Historiaaa—I can taste your continents!”

Historia (blinking): “…What?”

Laughter erupted—warm, unguarded.

Eren ducked his head, cheeks burning. Aqua fanned herself, equally flushed. Even Darkness looked away, biting her lip.

Aqua (elbowing him): “Say it, coward.”

Eren (quiet, raw): “I… care about you. All of you. I was selfish. I thought sacrifice was strength. But losing you—any of you—I won’t survive that. If someone has to die… let it be me.”

A beat.

Historia (soft): “We love you too.”

Sasha (mouth full): “Ten-kilo steak!”

Eren (laughing): “Fine.”

They ate—lived—in the glow of that truth.

Later, the alcohol hit.

Eren—never a drinker—succumbed to Aqua’s relentless bets.

They swayed, hands linked, voices slurring.

Aqua (leaning in, earnest): “Why so sad, Eren?”

Eren (staring at his cup): “The Founder’s power… seeing everything. Past, present, future. Like a noose tightening.”  
He swallowed.  
“Sasha died. And I knew—some things can’t be stopped. I’m the destroyer. It’s in my bones.”

Aqua’s teasing fell away.

Aqua (quiet): “That’s… heavy.”

Then—her cup was empty.

Her gaze dropped to his lips—still wet with beer.

Impulse.

She kissed him.

Not seduction.

Connection.

He didn’t pull away.

Just—existed, for a heartbeat, in the warmth of someone who knew the weight he carried.

They stumbled toward a room—his room—movements clumsy, intentions blurred.

Clothes tangled. Breath mingled.

No grand passion.

Just two broken people, seeking proof they were still alive.

And in the quiet dark—Aqua’s whispered “Eren…” wasn’t protest.

It was relief.

—

Morning.

Eren woke.

Warmth. Skin.

He lifted the sheet.

Aqua—naked, curled against him—stirred.

Her eyes opened.

Saw.

SCREAM.

Aqua (shrill): “EREN! PERVERT! YOU RUINED ME!”

Eren (horrified, scrambling back): “It was mutual! And silent! No one knows!”

Aqua (clutching sheets, suddenly sly): “…Unless I’m pregnant.”

Eren (deadpan): “That’s biologically impossible. And morally unacceptable.”

She vanished, red-faced, into her room.

At breakfast, silence hung thick.

Aqua stabbed her eggs with lethal focus.

Historia watched—then gently nudged her glass.

Historia (softly): “Aqua…?”

Aqua (not looking up): “NOT. A. WORD.”

Sasha winked.

Megumin pretended to study her toast.

Darkness excused herself—urgently.

Eren sipped his tea.

Didn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

But when Aqua’s foot brushed his under the table—he didn’t move away.

Just exhaled.

One more thing to protect.

 

Darkness leaned in, grin sharp.

Darkness: “So… how’d you sleep, kids?”

Eren choked on his tea.

Aqua dove headfirst into her cup.

Megumin (innocent): “What did you do last night?”

Eren (strangled): “Talked.”

Historia (gentle but firm): “Last night doesn’t matter. We move forward. Together.”

—

Later, Eren wandered—baby rattle in hand, guilt gnawing.

What if Aqua’s pregnant?

He found her in the plaza, tankard raised.

Aqua (grinning over the rim): “Still thinking about it?”

Eren (grim): “If we’re parents—”

Aqua (cackling): “Gods can’t get pregnant from mortals! My body purifies everything. Your… contribution… never stood a chance!”

Eren (relieved): “Good. I’d hate tiny versions of you.”

Aqua (mock-offended): “Rude!”

They laughed—sunlight, ease, a moment of lightness.

Then—Aqua stood.

Aqua: “Drinks?”

Eren (sighing): “You just had three.”

Aqua (batting lashes): “Is my company that unbearable?”

He tossed the rattle into the fountain—plink—and followed.

—

Days blurred.

Missions. Rewards. Tavern nights.

Aqua and Sasha, slung over Eren and Historia’s shoulders, giggling nonsense into the dawn.

From the shadows, Porco watched.

[Her laugh—Ymir’s laugh. Her hands—steady, kind. Not a demon. A girl who loved her friend.]

His chest ached.

Then—the capital’s knights arrived.

Sena, cold-eyed, spoke.

Sena: “Historia Reiss—you’re under arrest. The teleported coronatite destroyed Lord Alderp’s estate.”

Eren’s hand bled—just a nick—sparks gathering.

Eren (low, dangerous): “Touch her, and I’ll break you.”

The knights drew steel.

One lunged—pierced Eren’s shoulder.

Steam hissed.

The wound sealed.

Eren ripped the sword free—tossed it aside.

Eren: “I won’t let this stand.”

Pikes of crystal erupted—impaling knights, lifting them like grotesque trophies.

Sena (pale): “You’ll hang for this!”

A fireball flared—Eren turned—

And stopped.

Historia, Darkness, Megumin—holding him.

Historia (firm, quiet): “I’m responsible. Let me go.”

Aqua stepped forward—hands glowing.

Wounds knit. Breath returned.

Aqua (soft, to Eren): “What would Carla say?”

The rage bled out.

Eren sagged.

Eren (hoarse): “…Alright.”

They cuffed him.

Led them away.

Sena’s final words: “Assault. Murder. Insurrection.”

Eren didn’t flinch.

Just looked back—at his team.

Megumin’s tears. Darkness’s clenched fists. Aqua’s blazing eyes.

Aqua (voice ringing, thumb up): “We’re getting her out. And kicking that noble’s ass after.”

No grand vows.

Just fact.

Eren exhaled.

Trust.  

It felt like coming home.

 A week passed. Eren lay in his cell, moonlight slicing through the bars, cool on his skin. Peaceful. But his mind churned—Armin. Mikasa. What if they’re here? What if I see them, and they look at me like I’m a ghost?

He exhaled, sharp.

[No. Not yet. Not strong enough.]

Next door, Historia heard the explosion.

Thump-crack. Distant. Familiar.

Megumin.

She rushed to the barred window—and froze.

Aqua’s blue hair, grinning up at her.

Aqua (whispering): “Surprise~!”

Historia (tense): “Aqua—what are you doing?”

Aqua: “Rescuing you, obviously!”

Historia (shaking her head): “No. Don’t. Just… go. I’ll handle this.”

Aqua’s smile faltered—then she winked, thumb up.

Aqua: “Your call, friend.”

She vanished.

Eren watched her sprint off, shoulders slumping.

She’s playing the long game.

At dawn, Historia stood before Sena—the truth-detector bell in hand.

Sena: “Three questions. Tell me: why does your friend transform?”

Historia (calm): “He holds the power of Ymir Fritz, the Founder.”

Silence. No chime.

Sena blinked.

Sena: “Why destroy Lord Alderp’s estate?”

Historia: “To save Axel. You know that.”

Again—no sound.

Sena (softly): “Are you aligned with the Demon King?”

Historia: “We killed General Verdia.”

The bell stayed mute.

Sena’s stern mask cracked.

Sena (flustered): “I—I apologize. You’re… truthful.”

---

Trial day.

The hall buzzed—veterans, citizens, Marleyan re-entrants—all gathered.

Alexei Alderp, bloated and smug, sneered from the noble’s bench.

Eren watched, arms crossed.

[That’s the man who wanted her dead? Pathetic.]

Aqua leaned forward, whispering fiercely.

Aqua: “EMADH Plan! Execute!”

Historia (laughing softly): “What is that?”

Aqua: “You’ll see. That fat slug’s about to sweat.”

The judge droned—“Guilty of property damage… innocent of treason…”

Then—Alderp stood.

Alderp (sneering): “A fine? She deserves execution!”

Aqua leapt up.

Aqua (mocking): “Oh? How do you know she wanted you dead? Did you pay the jury to say so?”

Alderp scoffed.

Alderp: “Ridiculous! I’d never—”

CHIME.

The truth-bell rang—loud, sharp, undeniable.

The hall gasped.

Alderp paled.

Aqua grinned.

Aqua (sweetly): “Oops~”

Historia stepped forward—steady, clear.

Historia: “I swear—I conspired with no one. I serve no king but peace.”

Silence.

Then—Aqua struck again.

Aqua (beaming): “And I’m Aqua! Divine figure of the Axis Order! Two million believers!”

CHIME.

The bell rang—a high, mocking ding.

A collective facepalm.

Eren rubbed his temples—exhausted, amused, relieved.

Historia turned.

Met his eyes.

Smiled.

And in that smile—light. Hope.

Aqua, for all her chaos, had won.

Eren’s chest tightened.

Eren watched Darkness step forward—medallion gleaming, voice steady—and felt a rare, quiet pride.

[She’s one of them. And she stood for Historia.]

Alexei’s leer made his jaw tighten.

Eren (low, to Darkness): “Watch him. He wants more than a favor.”

Darkness (grinning, breathless): “Let him try.”

They laughed—light, unguarded—as the sun dipped below the rooftops.

Later, at the mansion, supper was chaos.

Aqua, already three jugs deep, reenacted Alexei’s sputtering meltdown.

Aqua (slurring): “Chuleta con patas! Oh, the face he made—!”

Eren (smiling): “You were… sharp today.”

Aqua beamed—then froze.

Eyes widened.

Aqua (suddenly sober, terrified whisper): “…She’s here.”

Sena stepped into the doorway.

Sena (dry): “Giant toads. Woke early. Suspiciously explosive timing.”

Megumin perked up.

Megumin: “My Explosion was very localized—!”

Eren (sighing): “Community service it is.”

---

The snowfield was chaos.

Aqua sprinted—screaming, flailing—hot breath of the toad at her heels.

Aqua (wailing): “Continentsss!”

Eren (pinching bridge of nose): “…Some things never change.”

Historia drew her blades—surged—

Eren caught her wrist.

Too low.

His hand hovered—inches from her chest.

She froze.

Blushed.

Deep.

Historia (squeaking): “Kyaaa! Pervert!”

Eren (blinking): “You’re feverish?”

Historia (shoving him, flustered): “Explain that!”

He stared—genuinely baffled.

[Pervert?]  
[Me?]

In his world, he’d been called demon, butcher, messiah—never this.

He opened his mouth—

Then—thump.

The toad lunged.

No time.

Eren moved—pulled Historia back, shoved her behind him, and bit his palm.

Steam roared.

The Jaw Titan rose—not to kill.

To shield.

Aqua tumbled into its grip, gasping.

Aqua (teary, grinning): “Erencio! You do care!”

Eren (from the nape, voice flat): “Shut up and breathe.”

Historia watched—heart hammering—not from fear.

From warmth.

He hadn’t touched her on purpose.

But he’d protected her.

And in this world—that was enough.

A shriek tore through the cold air.

Behind them—a glistening, bloated toad, teeth slick, tongue coiled.

And in its maw—Megumin, half-swallowed, eyes wide.

Eren: “Megumin?!”

Megumin (muffled, indignant): “While you two flirted, I fought! Kindly rescue me, Ereh!”

Then—another cry.

Aqua, waist-deep in a second toad’s throat, blue hair matted with slime.

Eren didn’t hesitate.

Eren (to Historia, sharp): “Watch Megumin’s toad.”

Historia (nodding): “Go.”

He grinned—wild, familiar—and bit his hand.

The Female Titan rose—graceful, lethal.

But the cold bit back.

Frost crept up its limbs, slowing it.

Then—light.

A crimson flash.

A girl—dark hair, scarlet eyes, pink skirt flaring—leapt forward.

Hands outstretched.

“Light Saber!”

Two beams—thin, searing—lanced out.

Pop. Pop.

The toads burst—neat, clinical.

Silence.

Eren emerged from the Titan’s nape, sprinting to Megumin.

She blinked up at him—same eyes. Same fire.

Then—the girl approached.

Yunyun (bright, trembling): “Hello, Megumin! My eternal rival!”

Megumin (flat, from Eren’s back): “Ah. You.”

Megumin (louder): “Yunyun—the Crimson Demon with zero friends. A disgrace to the clan.”

Eren (frowning): “Stop.”

He turned to Yunyun—gentle, firm.

Eren: “Thank you. Truly. What was that magic?”

Yunyun (flushing): “A-advanced… I’m not in any group…”

Megumin (snorting): “Told you. Pariah.”

Yunyun flinched—and ran.

Eren shot Megumin a look.

Eren: “Cruel.”

Megumin (smug): “Protective.”

Historia arrived—Aqua slung over her shoulder, dripping.

Aqua (grinning): “Oho~ Someone’s got a type.”

Historia (blushing): “Achu! Don’t be silly!”

—

The next day, Eren found her.

Yunyun—frozen mid-step.

He didn’t sneak. Just… was there.

Eren: “A restaurant. Ten minutes. I’d like to talk.”

She stammered—agreed.

Inside, elegance unnerved her.

Eren (direct): “Join us. Help defeat the Demon King.”

Yunyun (quiet): “I… wouldn’t be useful.”

Eren: “Ignore Megumin. Trial period. Please.”

Her eyes flickered—hope, fragile.

Eren (softening, smiling): “You’re strong. And… you’re beautiful. Don’t hide that face.”

Yunyun squeaked—flailed—laughed.

Eren laughed back—real, unguarded.

For the first time, her loneliness didn’t feel like a cage.

Yunyun (breathless): “I’ll… join. If I get to duel Megumin!”

Eren (chuckling): “Deal.”

As they walked, she hesitated.

Yunyun: “They’ll… reject me.”

Eren (shrugging, warm): “We’re all disasters. Aqua drinks. Darkness… Darkness. Megumin explodes. Historia… Historia.”  
A pause.  
“We fit. You will too.”

She looked up—at his green eyes, steady, kind.

Not pity.

Promise.

Yunyun (smiling, small but sure): “You’re… a good person.”

Eren’s smile faltered.

[Armin. Mikasa. Carla.]

[I wasn’t. I’m trying to be.]

He exhaled.

Eren: “Let’s go meet them.”

And for the first time in two lifetimes—

he wasn’t afraid of what came next.

After the toad fiasco, the group gathered at the Guild—ledgers open, coins counted.

Historia (noticing Sasha): “Sasha! Where are you staying?”

Sasha (grinning): “A drafty inn. Warm enough. Barely.”

Eren and Yunyun joined them. Introductions flowed—light, easy.

Then—Historia’s gaze softened.

Historia: “The mansion’s big. Too big. Stay. All winter.”

Sasha’s eyes lit up.

Sasha: “Free food? Absolutely.”

Yunyun (blushing, hopeful): “I… I’d be honored.”

Eren (nodding): “More hands. Safer nights.”

—

Midnight.

Eren jolted awake—sweat, pulse racing.

The room wasn’t empty.

Historia. Aqua. Megumin. Yunyun.

All watching.

Eren (hoarse): “…Why are you staring?”

Megumin: “You were screaming.”

Aqua (tearing up): “We were worried, idiot!”

Historia (soft, stern): “No more nightmares. Or… no more hugs.”

Eren (mock-dramatic): “Kokoro! Too cruel!”

Aqua (grabbing his shoulders, frantic): “WORSE! Alderp wants Darkness to marry his son!”

Eren stilled.

Then—calm.

He cupped Aqua’s face, thumbs brushing her cheeks.

Eren (quiet, firm): “While I breathe? No one takes her from us. Understood?”

Aqua melted.

Aqua: “Knew you’d fix it!”

He smiled—bright, practiced—but his eyes stayed shadowed.

[Armin. Mikasa. The cost of “fixing” things.]

Then—Darkness’s voice.

Darkness (breathless, from the doorway): “Excite me again, old man~”

Eren flinched.

[No Titan ever made me blush. She does it with words.]

She explained—fast, furious.

The forced engagement. Her father’s pressure.

Eren studied the sketch of Walter Alderp—soft jaw, weak eyes.

Eren (dry): “Let me guess. You want the wedding ruined.”

Darkness (grinning): “Smashed.”

Eren (smiling, real this time): “I’ll kick Alderp’s fat ass myself.”

Darkness: “You’ll help?”

Eren: “We’re a team. Always.”

Aqua shoved his back.

Aqua: “Move! Sena needs you now.”

Eren (commanding): “Historia. Aqua. With me. Yunyun, Sasha—you’re with Megumin.”

Megumin (groaning): “Yunyun?!”

Yunyun (hurt): “Cruel!”

Megumin (muttering): “In my world, they’d exile you for that outfit…”

Eren (ignoring her, to both): “Trust each other. That’s the mission.”

They split.

Eren walked—Historia close beside him, Aqua humming off-key.

No grand speech.

Just work.

Because in this world?

Family wasn’t blood.

It was choice.

And he’d fight for every last one of them.

The Dustiness manor loomed—stone, ivy, quiet power.

Servants bowed as they entered, leading them to the guest hall.

There—Ignis Dustiness Ford.

Older. Stern. Eyes sharp, but warm when they landed on Darkness.

She grinned—not the usual thrill-seeker’s smirk. Something softer.

Ignis (to Eren, extending a hand): “My daughter speaks highly of you. Eren Jaeger—I’m honored.”

Eren (taking it, firm): “The honor’s mine, sir.”

[A father who loves her. Not like Grisha. Not like… me.]

Darkness stepped in—smooth, deceptive.

Darkness (sweetly): “Father—these are my staff. Historia, my majordomo. Eren and Aqua—my loyal servants.”  
A pause. Malice glinted.  
“I’ll attend the engagement talks… if you insist.”

Aqua winced.

Aqua: “She’s… spirited.”

Historia (gentle): “She’s kind. And deeply loved.”

Ignis’s eyes shone—tears, comically large—as he clasped Historia’s hands.

Ignis: “Such wonderful companions!”

Eren (stepping between them, dry): “Sir. Hands.”

Historia (teasing): “Jealous?”

Ignis recovered—posture rigid, voice measured.

Ignis (quiet, to Eren): “My daughter is… creative in her chaos.”  
A beat.  
“Help me ensure this ends peacefully. No explosions. No shattered chandeliers.”  
His gaze held Eren’s—assessing, not demanding.  
“Reward will follow. Fairly.”

Eren: “I’m not here for coin.”

Ignis: “Then why are you here?”

Eren didn’t look away.

Eren: “Because I’ve seen what happens when someone’s future is stolen before they choose it.”

Ignis studied him—truly—then nodded.

Ignis: “My daughter chose well.”

They dressed.

Aqua—blue-and-white maid’s dress, hair like a summer sky.

Historia—crisp black-and-white majordomo coat, gold braid at her waist, ponytail gleaming.

Eren—black tuxedo, white shirt, hair brushed back. Sharp. Calm.

He rolled his shoulders.

Eren: “Surprisingly comfortable.”

Aqua (snorting): “Only because you usually dress like a wreck.”

—

Walter Alderp waited—polished, poised, nervous.

Darkness glided forward.

Darkness (smile razor-thin): “You’re Walter. My intended.”

Walter (bowing): “An honor, Lady Dustiness.”

Darkness: “Disappoint me. Please.”

He blinked.

Walter (honest): “I sought a suitable noble. You… are unexpected.”

Darkness (leaning in): “Good or bad?”

Walter (a flicker of intrigue): “Undecided.”

She turned—swept her hand toward the trio behind her.

Darkness: “My staff. Historia. Eren. Aqua.”

Walter’s eyes locked on Eren.

Walter (respectful, sincere): “The Titan of Axel. Defender against Verdia. Against the Destroyer.”  
A pause.  
“I’m honored, Eren Jaeger.”

Eren (nodding): “Likewise, Walter. A man who chooses honesty over ceremony—I respect that.”

The air eased.

No chaos. No forced vows.

Just… possibility.

Then—a voice cut through.

Sharp. Accusing.

A finger pointed at Walter.

Eren’s hand drifted toward his knife. 

Walter’s honesty struck Eren—not as a rival, but as a man trapped in the same gilded cage Darkness wore.

[He doesn’t want this either.]

Walter (smiling faintly): “Lalatina-sama’s friends seem… unconventional.”

Eren (sweating): “Hungry? Anyone? Tea?”

Historia (patting his arm): “Forgive him. He’s a disaster in a tuxedo.”

Eren (muttering): “You’re calling me—”

Then—Darkness spoke.

Not flirtation. Confession.

Darkness (to Walter, voice low, raw): “You want a noble ornament. I’m a paladin. I bleed. I break. And I’d rather face a hundred goblins than sit through one court session.”

Silence.

Walter didn’t recoil.

He leaned in.

Walter: “You reject the role entirely?”

Darkness: “I choose my battles.”

Ignis cleared his throat—too loudly.

Ignis: “The garden. Air. Now.”

They walked.

Walter, persistent, asked: “What do you love?”

Darkness (instant, fierce): “Hunting goblins.”

Walter (nodding): “Requires trust. In your team.”

She jerked her chin toward Eren.

Darkness (bitter laugh): “Him? Drunk. Rude. A pervert—”

Eren (flinching): “Darkness—”

Aqua (panicked, cutting in): “She exaggerates when stressed! Totally normal!”

Then—disaster.

Aqua (voice cracking): “Tatakae! You almost got me pregnant!”

The world froze.

Eren’s face burned.

The alcohol. The kiss. The sheets.

Eren (quiet, strained): “…It was mutual. And private.”

Aqua clapped a hand over her mouth.

Historia stepped forward.

Not anger.

Not tears.

Just… stillness.

Her eyes—blue, clear—met Eren’s.

Historia (soft, taking his hand): “I’m glad. If you found someone… you did right.”  
A pause. Weighted.  
“Because I chose too—once. And this…”  
Her thumb brushed his knuckles.  
“…is what happens when you wait too long.”

Eren’s breath caught.

[She knows. She forgives. She releases me.]

Walter coughed—diplomatically.

Walter: “Perhaps… we’ve shared enough.”

Darkness stood rigid—hurting.

Darkness (voice trembling, raw): “So… with me, never.”  
She turned away.  
“With her, drunk… yes.”

Then—resolution.

If lies wouldn’t work… truth would.

Darkness (to Walter, no more games): “I won’t marry you. Not today. Not ever. Disinherit me. I don’t care.”  
Her smile returned—sharp, defiant.  
“My life is mine.”

Walter studied her—truly—for the first time.

Walter: “You’re… fascinating.”

And in that moment—

Eren understood.

Darkness ripped her dress—not seduction. Defiance.

Darkness (voice raw): “A wooden sword duel, Walter! Prove your worth—or admit you’re just another gilded cage!”

Eren watched—the raw need in her, the echo of his own old fury.

[She doesn’t want a husband. She wants a war.]

Walter hesitated—then, surprisingly, nodded.

The training hall.

Darkness fought—beautifully, badly. Every lunge wide. Every parry clumsy.

Walter disarmed her—gently.

Darkness (panting, grinning): “Again!”

He disarmed her again.

And again.

Each time, his respect deepened.

Walter (finally lowering his sword): “Your skill lacks… but your spirit? Unbreakable.”

Then—the pivot.

Darkness (to Eren, eyes blazing): “You. Show him what real chaos looks like.”

Eren sighed—resigned—and drew his ODM blades.

Walter’s eyes widened.

Walter: “You trust him with those?”

Historia (quietly): “With his life.”

No rules.

Eren moved—Annie’s drill. Fast. Brutal.

Darkness blocked—barely.

A feint.

A twist.

His blade tapped her wrist—disarming.

She gasped—not pain. Pleasure.

Darkness (voice thick): “Yes. Like that.”

Walter stared—fascinated, flustered.

Then—Darkness dropped to her knees.

Darkness (to Walter, fierce): “He’s a drunk. A bastard. A monster. And I’d choose him over your perfect life in a heartbeat.”

Eren froze—offended, bewildered.

Eren: “What?!”

Darkness (standing, challenging): “Bare hands. Now. Prove you’re more than a shadow of a man.”

He dropped the blades.

Assumed stance.

She lunged—wild, powerful.

He countered—Annie’s throw. Arm barred. Leg swept.

She hit the floor—hard.

Eren (calm): “Quit. Or I break it.”

Darkness (grinning, breathless): “Do it.”

He twisted.

Crack.

Aqua winced.

Aqua (muttering): “Consensual. Definitely consensual.”

Then—Ignis entered.

Saw his daughter—disarmed, disheveled, ecstatic—Eren looming over her.

Ignis (roaring): “EXECUTE THEM!”

Chaos.

Eren/Walter (in unison): “Misunderstanding!”

Aqua rushed forward—hands glowing.

Darkness’s arm healed—no bruise, no break.

Ignis (stammering): “You… planned this?”

Darkness (smiling, serene): “I chose my path, Father. Not yours.”

Walter looked at her—really looked.

Not at the noble.

At the warrior.

Walter (softly): “She’s… magnificent.”

Eren exhaled—relief, exhaustion.

Ignis stared at the scene—his daughter, healed, grinning like a cat with cream; Eren, weary but unbowed; Walter, flushed and intrigued.

He exhaled—long, slow—and uncorked the wine.

Ignis (pouring, voice rough): “When she was young… she’d pray to Eris: ‘Send me friends.’”  
A pause.  
“Then she came running home—‘Father! A thief!’—and her eyes… shone.”

Historia (softly): “She’s extraordinary.”

Ignis (to Eren, hand outstretched): “Swear you’ll keep her safe. Not from monsters. From… herself.”

Eren took it—firm.

Eren: “I swear it.”

Darkness stirred—blinking, disoriented—then locked eyes with Eren.

Darkness (pointing, fierce): “Next time—”

Eren (not looking at her): “You’re free, Ignis. Let her live.”

Ignis’s throat worked.

Ignis (to Darkness): “I only wanted to protect you… after your mother…”

Darkness (stepping forward, gentle): “Let me protect myself. With them.”

Aqua snorted—tearful, joyful.

Aqua: “Eris! You’re tolerable today!”

Then—the door burst open.

Sena stood there—guards behind her, hands on swords.

No smiles.

No wine.

Just business.

Walter turned to Darkness—quiet, resolute.

Walter: “I came to refuse you. Now… I ask for time. To court you. Properly.”

Darkness didn’t flinch.

Darkness: “Then earn me.”

He smiled—real, relieved.

The moment hung—fragile, hopeful.

Then Sena cleared her throat.

Sena (cold, to Eren): “The problem has arrived. And it’s… familiar.”

Eren’s blood ran cold.

[Not here. Not yet.]

But the past didn’t ask permission.

It just came.

 

Eren (dry, to Sena): “Need my help? Funny—I thought your knights were better than the Military Police back home.”

Sena’s eyes glistened.

Sena (voice tight): “A new Demon General. Children… civilians… please, Jaeger.”

Eren didn’t hesitate.

[Carla’s hand. Mikasa’s scream. The weight of 2,000 years of fear.]

Eren: “I’m in. Got a sentence to serve, anyway.”

Historia (taking Sena’s hands, warm): “We’ll protect them. All of them.”

Sena blinked—surprised, touched.

Eren almost smiled.

Almost.

—

At the Kele Dungeon—dark, damp, heavy with old magic.

Historia (soft, to Eren): “No choice but to fight. But… I don’t mind standing beside you.”

He looked at her—really looked.

Eren (quiet, smiling): “When it’s over… I want to see you smile. Just for me.”

Historia (blushing, flustered): “A parade of smiles. How’s that?”

He laughed—real, light.

Then—Aqua nudged him.

Aqua (quiet, uncharacteristically solemn): “Protect her. Please.”

Eren (meeting her eyes): “Always. And… drinks after. Friends do that.”

Aqua’s breath hitched—tears welling.

Then Megumin cut in.

Megumin (sharp, no mockery): “What exactly happened?”

Silence.

Eren (flat): “A mistake. Both of us.”

Megumin (nodding, grave): “Alcohol doesn’t cause mistakes. It just removes the brakes.”

Sasha stepped forward—shaking.

Sasha (voice breaking): “I… prayed to Aqua. Every night. To bring me home. To keep my friends safe.”  
A bitter smile.  
“And she’s just… a drunk who slept with my friend.”

No anger.

Just grief.

Yunyun, wide-eyed:

Yunyun: “Is this… normal?”

Megumin (deadpan): “No.”

Historia (firm, redirecting): “Mission. Now.”

—

Inside the dungeon—shuffling, clicking.

Masks. Tiny figures.

Aqua, curious, touched one.

BOOM.

Eren was there—instant—pulling her from the smoke.

Eren (exhaling, relieved): “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Aqua (dusty, grinning): “Blame your weak bladder, old man.”

He rolled his eyes.

Eren: “Stay safe. I’ll hold the rear. If he flees—I stop him.”

Aqua (soft, sincere): “Count on me. And… good luck, Erencio.”

Sena’s warning echoed:

“Marionettes. The General controls them. He won’t be easy.”

Eren scanned the dark—no ODM gear here. No Explosions. Just shadows, traps, and a puppeteer who’d watched them fail before.

He tightened his grip on his sword.

[No Titans. No shortcuts.]

Just them.

And for the first time—

that felt like enough.

Eren (firm, to the trio): “Historia, Aqua, Darkness—you go first. Your night sight and resilience give you the edge down there.”

Aqua (thumbs up, grinning): “On it! Try not to get blown up, old man!”

Eren (dry): “Help us win this, and I’ll get you something real you love.”

Darkness (breathless, already flushed): “Ooh, a climax battle… how thrilling…”

Historia (soft, to Eren): “It’s… charming, how you worry.”

Eren (blushing, ducking his head): “Majesty… save me a smile after.”

They split.

Below, Darkness took the blasts—unflinching.

Historia (impressed): “Your muscles are steel! Reminds me of Mikasa.”

Darkness (flustered): “Blame the armor!”

Above, Yunyun approached Eren.

Yunyun (gentle): “Why do you always look angry?”

He paused—really thought.

Eren: “I… don’t know. Happiness feels… distant.”

Yunyun (smiling): “You’re kinder when you smile. And we’re free, Eren. Both of us.”

He didn’t argue.

Just… let it sit.

—

Deep in the dungeon—

Footsteps.

A figure rose—blue suit, mask, smile.

Vanir (cheerful): “Ah! Adventurers! Perfect timing. I was hoping for a glorious death!”

Aqua struck first—Exorcismus Sacrum.

Vanir staggered—laughing.

Vanir: “Oof! Nasty. But you’re no match for an Archduke.”

Historia (blade ready): “Surrender. We won’t let you hurt anyone.”

Vanir (tilting his head): “You… feel familiar.”  
A pause. Too knowing.  
“Met a freckled woman in Arcanretia. She spoke of a Historia Reiss… a friend she lost.”

Historia froze.

Ymir.

Tears welled—not grief. Hope.

Vanir (quiet, cruel): “What’s it like… hoping someone you loved came back… in a world where you don’t even know who you are anymore?”

She lowered her sword.

Historia (voice breaking): “…Shut up.”

Darkness stepped closer—protective.

Aqua (fists clenched, furious): “Enough! You don’t get to poke at them!”

Vanir turned—eyes sharp.

Vanir (to Aqua, soft, venomous): “You broke the Law, didn’t you?”  
A beat.  
“A goddess… tempted by mortal pleasure. Does your body still ache when you think of it? Or did the alcohol numb even that?”

Aqua paled.

Silence.

Then—

Eren’s voice, cold, from the doorway: “Touch her again. I dare you.”

Aqua went rigid—blood draining from her face.

Vanir’s words hung—not accusation. Revelation.

Vanir (soft, lethal): “You broke it. The Law. A goddess… touched.”

She couldn’t speak. 

The terrifying, beautiful weight of what it meant—what it cost.]

Vanir: “Alcohol doesn’t cause sin. It just… removes the veil.”

Historia and Darkness exchanged glances—confused, sensing the gravity.

Then—Darkness moved.

Blade flashing—wild, desperate.

The potion Eren bought from Wiz flared in her veins—precision, not chaos.

Her final strike—clean, brutal—split Vanir apart.

Historia’s fire engulfed him.

Aqua’s water—cool, pure—quenched the blaze.

Dust.

Mask.

Victory.

Or so they thought.

The mask leapt—slithering onto Darkness’s face.

Her scream—raw, violated.

Historia (grabbing Aqua’s wrist, firm): “Wait. She can fight this. We save her. Together.”

Aqua trembled—not from fear of the demon.

From the echo of Vanir’s truth.

[He knows.]  
[And if he knows… who else might?]

Above, Eren stood ready—Sasha and Yunyun downed, Historia bleeding.

Vanir, in Darkness’s body, smiled.

Vanir (to Eren, honeyed poison): “The boy who loved his sister… how sweet. Don’t worry—I’ll keep your secrets.”

Eren flinched—exposed.

But Historia just… beamed.

Historia (bright, sincere): “You loved Mikasa? That’s wonderful! If she’s here, you can finally tell her!”

No jealousy.

Just relief.

Vanir’s smirk faltered.

[This one… she doesn’t play by the rules.]

He turned on Yunyun.

Vanir: “The girl who almost befriended a devil!”

Yunyun gasped—hurt, defensive.

Then—Vanir’s gaze locked on Eren.

[There. The real wound.]

Vanir (quiet, cruel): “And Armin? Mikasa? They’re here. Can you face them? Knowing what you did?”  
A pause. Knife twist.  
“And Historia… she looks at you. But you hold back. Guilt is such a heavy chain, Eren Jaeger.”

Silence.

Eren didn’t look away.

He met Vanir’s eyes—not with rage.

With certainty.

Eren (calm, low): “You think secrets break us?”  
He stepped forward.  
“They just make the truth stronger when we finally speak it.”

Aqua watched him—heart aching, proud.

[He doesn’t know what I did.  
And if he ever does…]

She touched her chest—where the Law lived, and broke.

[…I’ll tell him myself.]

Eren’s jaw tightened—Vanir’s words like shards in his ribs.

[Mikasa. Carla. Aqua.]  
All laid bare.

Vanir (smirking): “The Titan boy… haunted by a masochist, touched by a goddess—”

Eren (low, dangerous): “Enough.”

He moved—not Titan speed. Human precision.

A fist—cracked Vanir’s jaw.

The Archduke flew, skidding hard.

Eren (to Historia, Darkness): “Now.”

Darkness (grinning, ecstatic): “Hit me harder!”

Vanir screamed—not in pain. In despair.

Vanir: “SILENCE! How are you still—?!”

Darkness (breathless, thrilled): “My body is yours to ruin… but my heart? Never.”

Vanir sagged—defeated.

Vanir (muttering): “…Fine. Take her back.”

Eren exhaled—half-relief, half-pity.

[Even Hell has its limits.]

Historia sketched the plan—fast, desperate.

Aqua’s divine light flared—Exorcismus Sacrum.

Vanir shrieked as his mask cracked.

Eren ripped.

Megumin’s voice—clear, fierce:

Megumin: “EXPLOSION!”

The blast consumed him—mask, flesh, pride.

Ash.

Darkness collapsed—free.

Aqua knelt—hands glowing, voice uncharacteristically soft.

Aqua: “Shh. Let me fix you.”

Darkness—smiling, weary—leaned in.

Darkness: “Your magic… feels like home.”

Aqua’s smile wavered.

[If only you knew what I broke to stand here beside you.]

Later, at the Guild—testimonies given, debts cleared, freedom granted.

Darkness stood with Walter—not as a bride. As a negotiator.

Darkness (to Alexei, cool): “I’ll consider him. On my terms.”

Historia watched—content, quiet.

Then—she turned away.

[Arcanretia.]  
[Freckles. Laughter. “Queen.”]

Eren caught her arm.

Eren (soft): “You’re hiding something.”

She didn’t deny it.

Just smiled—sad, hopeful.

Historia: “Let’s get paid. Then… maybe a vacation?”

He nodded.

Didn’t push.

But as they walked, he glanced back—once—at Aqua.

She stood apart, staring at her hands

 The morning after Vanir’s defeat, calm settled over the mansion.

Darkness rested—bandages wrapped, but eyes bright.

Darkness (softly, to Aqua): “You saved me again. I owe you.”

Aqua (smiling, tired): “What are goddesses for?”

Outside, plans unfolded.

Darkness’s “engagement” to Walter became a negotiation—dates, not vows. A delay. A chance.

Historia’s name was cleared—not by luck, but by proof: witness after witness stepping forward, voices united.

“They stopped the Destroyer.”  
“They purged the lich.”  
“They broke Vanir’s hold.”

Heroes.

Not criminals.

Then—goodbyes.

Yunyun and Sasha stood at the gate—bags packed, smiles bittersweet.

Yunyun (quiet): “I… shine brighter alone. But thank you—for the light you gave me here.”

Eren (nodding): “Then go. And know—this door stays open.”

Historia (soft, sure): “Find Porco. He’ll see your strength before you do.”

Aqua watched them go—then turned, eyes sharp.

Aqua (innocent, too bright): “So… about that reward, Eren~”

He sighed.

[Here we go.]

—

The caravan creaked down the road.

Inside, Aqua cooed over a tiny dragon hatchling napping in a seat.

Conductor (apologetic): “One of you’ll need the back bench.”

Eren (already moving): “I’ll take it.”

Aqua (sweetly): “Obviously. A goddess rides in comfort.”

He rolled his eyes.

Then—movement.

High-jump hawks—feathers glinting, talons bared—swooped.

Eren didn’t hesitate.

Cut.  
Lightning.  
Steam.

The Beast Titan rose—17 meters of coiled muscle, fur rippling.

Not rage.

Precision.

Rocks gathered—thrown—cracked—downed.

Silence.

Eren emerged—marks fading, breath steady.

That night, campfire crackling, merchants thanked him with stew and stories.

Then—the undead came.

Not for flesh.

For Aqua.

They swarmed her—drawn to the divine light humming beneath her skin.

She stood—no fear.

Aqua (voice ringing, pure power): “Exorcismus Sacrum!”

Light erupted.

Ash fell.

Peace returned.

—

Dawn broke over Arcanretia.

Marble. Fountains. Statues of a blue-haired goddess, water spilling from her outstretched hands.

Historia gasped—not at the city.

At the hot springs steaming in the distance.

Historia (grinning): “Eren—we have to explore!”

Megumin (immediately): “Bath first.”

Then—Aqua thrust something into Eren’s hands.

A plush soldier.

Bald. Serious. Scout Regiment insignia stitched lopsided.

Aqua (forced cheer): “Handmade! Thought you’d… like having one who doesn’t die.”

Silence.

Heavy.

Megumin’s smile vanished.

Megumin (flat): “Not funny, Aqua.”

Aqua looked away.

Eren didn’t flinch.

Just tucked the plush into his coat—over his heart.

Then—Darkness nudged Megumin.

Darkness (teasing, soft): “Still think you’re just thirteen?”

Megumin (smirking, tension broken): “Chronologically? Absolutely.”

Eren laughed—real, warm.

Not the laugh of a boy who burned the world.

But of a man who’d finally found home.

Even if it came with dragon hatchlings, masochist nobles, and a goddess who mended plush soldiers—and broke celestial laws—just to stay beside him.

Historia (bright, hopeful): “Eren—we should find an inn, don’t you think?”

Aqua (beaming, arms wide): “See?! Arcanretia’s perfect! Hot springs, devoted followers, zero responsibilities!”

Darkness (deadpan): “Eris… this feels like the longest day.”

Eren watched them—really watched.

[No Titans. No Rumbling. Just… this.]

He grinned—boyish, unguarded.

Eren (mock-commanding): “Soldiers! Attention! Ready…?”

Aqua (rolling her eyes): “Ugh. Not again.”

Historia (teasing): “Military training broke something in him.”

Aqua (suddenly earnest): “I’ll nurse him back on my lap!”

He laughed—deep, free.

[This is enough. This is—]

Then—the crowd surged.

“WELCOME TO ARCANRETTIA!”

Devotees of the Axis Order—blue sashes, fervent eyes—surrounded them.

Eren froze.

[Not pilgrims. Hunters.]

They weren’t staring at Aqua.

They were staring through her—at the divine spark beneath.

Devotee (ecstatic): “She walks among us! The true Aqua!”

Eren tried to step between them—useless.

Eren (muttering): “…Should’ve known. She picked this place.”

Historia (soft, urgent): “What do we do?”

Then—a laugh.

Familiar. Warm. Anchoring.

Eren turned.

Armin stood there—taller, steadier, alive.

Mikasa beside him—short hair, quiet intensity. No anger. Just… presence.

Armin (smiling, gentle): “Even in another world… you still find trouble, Eren.”

Eren’s breath caught.

Eren (hoarse): “…Armin.”

Mikasa (quiet, firm): “You’re alive. That’s enough. For now.”

No forgiveness.

No condemnation.

Just truth.

Aqua stepped in—nervous, protective.

Aqua (forcing cheer): “Hey! How about… lunch?!”

Silence.

Then—

Armin (soft, heavy): “Do you even know what happened after the Rumbling? The children. The cities. The silence where eighty percent of the world used to breathe?”

Eren didn’t flinch.

Eren: “I know. Every scream. Every broken thing. I chose it. To end 2,000 years of chains.”

Armin (nodding, not arguing): “And now? In this world—where chains look softer, but still bind?”

Eren (meeting his eyes): “We go outside. Together. No more left behind.”

Mikasa (a flicker of the old loyalty): “Then I’ll keep you alive. Again.”

Behind them—Historia stood frozen.

Tears glistened—not falling.

Then—a touch.

She turned.

Ymir.

Young. Freckled. Smiling.

Ymir (soft, teasing): “Ara ara… still getting into trouble, Your Majesty?”

Historia couldn’t speak.

Ymir (gentle, no demands): “I’m not here to reclaim you. Just… to ask: this time—will you choose yourself?”

Historia’s voice cracked.

Historia: “I chose for others… until there was nothing left to choose.”

Ymir didn’t reach out.

Just waited.

And in that space—not forgiveness, not absolution—

Possibility.

Eren glanced back—at Historia, at Ymir, at his oldest friends.

Then—he smiled.

Not the smile of the Demon of Paradis.

The smile of a man, finally, home. 

Eren stood apart—Armin and Mikasa beside him, the stone Aqua gazing down, serene and distant.

No grand speeches.

Just presence.

Armin watched Ymir and Historia—tense, quiet—and nudged Eren.

Armin (soft, to Eren): “Give them space. We’ll… distract the others.”

Mikasa didn’t speak.

Just looked at Eren—alive, whole—and the tears she’d held back since Shiganshina finally fell.

Eren (gesturing, voice rough): “Aqua. Megumin. Darkness. My team… here.”

Megumin (cheerfully): “Warning: we’re not normal.”

Eren (dry): “Or mentally stable.”

Armin (laughing, real): “Fits you perfectly, Eren.”

The words landed—not as insult.

As truth.

Aqua froze, drink halfway to her lips.

Armin. Mikasa. Ymir.

Ymir (smiling, sharp): “Aqua. The ‘goddess’ who offered me rebirth… and the Jaw Titan’s power.”  
A pause. Quiet.  
“I remembered you. Even when I thought the gods were lies.”

Aqua blinked—genuinely confused.

Aqua: “I… don’t remember you.”

Ymir (shrugging): “Doesn’t matter. You gave me a second chance. Even if you don’t recall handing it out.”

Armin studied her—not with reverence.

With clarity.

[The goddess of the Walls… reduced to hiding in hot springs.]

Mikasa said nothing.

Just watched Aqua—too close to Eren—and filed her away: unknown. Potential threat.

Then—Eren cracked.

Eren (voice breaking): “I’m… repulsive. I knew the Rumbling was coming. I chose it. I thought… maybe the future would change. But I was never free. I was always the monster.”  
He looked at Armin—raw, shattered.  
“If you hate me… end it.”

Aqua stepped forward—furious.

Armin blocked her.

Armin (quiet, firm): “I did hate you. For hurting Mikasa. For lying.”  
He met Eren’s eyes—no judgment. Just sorrow.  
“But I see it now. You weren’t saving yourself. You were trying to save us.”  
A shaky breath.  
“You were always the strongest. The one who carried everything… like a Titan holding up the sky.”

Eren stared.

Eren (whispering): “…Brother?”

Armin (tearing up, smiling): “You promised we’d see the ocean. Together. And I… I want to be strong like you. Even if it’s just… trying.”

Carla’s voice echoed—not in memory. In bone.

[“Protect them, my boy.”]

Eren took Armin’s hand.

Not as the Demon of Paradis.

As Eren.

Armin (squeezing tight): “You’re not alone. Never again.”

Eren (hoarse, smiling through tears): “Then… let’s keep our promise. The ocean. The world outside. All of it.”

Around them—Aqua wiped her eyes, Megumin snorted (“Sentimental fools”), Darkness sighed dreamily (“Such passion…”), and Ymir watched Historia—waiting.

No grand redemption.

Just a choice.

To try.

And for the first time in two lifetimes—

it felt like enough.

Eren (grinning, clapping his hands): “Alright, team—time to unwind! Hot springs, snacks, no demon generals!”

Ymir (dry): “Wait—weren’t you having an existential crisis five minutes ago?”

Aqua (coughing into her fist): “Correction—a Hitler crisis.”

Megumin (blunt): “Are we splitting up just because he found old friends?”

Armin stepped in—gentle but firm.

Armin (to Eren, low): “We need to talk. Now.”

Mikasa’s jaw tightened—but she stepped back.

Soon, only Eren, Armin, and Aqua remained on a quiet bridge overlooking Arcanretia’s canals.

Armin (quiet, heavy): “Eren… the world after you. It didn’t heal. It burned.”  
He exhaled—old, weary.  
“Hiiragi rose. Reverse-engineered Titan science—light crystals, aerial fleets, even genetic experiments. Marley’s old labs? They finished what Marley abandoned.”  
A pause. Pain.  
“I died as Eldia’s ambassador. Watching Hiiragi turn our survivors into weapons.”  
His eyes held Eren’s—no blame. Just grief.  
“Marley’s gone. Hiiragi’s crumbling. And Eldia… it’s a fortress, not a home.”  
He touched his wedding band—simple, worn.  
“I married Annie. We have children. And Historia’s daughter—Historia, Daughter—rules Eldia as a neutral state. She refused to retaliate. Said vengeance was what broke us the first time.”  
A faint, sad smile.  
“You’re still nineteen. I’m… not. Time moves differently here.”  
He met Eren’s eyes—steady, final.  
“There’s no world to return to, Eren. Not the one we knew.”

Eren didn’t flinch.

Just looked at the water—clear, unbroken.

Eren (soft, certain): “Then we build a new one. Here.”

No rage.

No despair.

Just choice.

Aqua watched them—quiet, thoughtful—and for the first time, didn’t joke.

Some truths were too heavy for laughter.

They demanded action.

And Eren Jaeger—finally—was ready to act.

Eren’s smile was quiet—not defensive. Just real.

Eren: “We’re not fighting Titans here. We’re… living. Helping. It’s different. Better.”

Mikasa stepped forward—not demanding. Offering.

Mikasa (soft, fierce): “If you’re hurt… I’m here. Always.”

He didn’t pull away.

Eren (gentle, certain): “I’m not broken, Mikasa. Just… full. Of them.”

—

By the fountain, Ymir and Historia stood—no titles. No thrones.

Just two women, centuries of silence between them.

Ymir touched Historia’s hair—sunlight on gold.

Ymir (smiling, tender): “Time to talk, Your Majesty.”

Historia’s breath hitched—tears held back, but not hidden.

Historia (voice trembling): “You left me. I was alone. You were the only one who saw me—not Christa. Not the queen. Me.”  
A sob escaped—raw, unguarded.  
“I wanted to marry you. To keep you.”

Slap.

Ymir didn’t flinch.

Just looked at her—no anger. Just sorrow.

Ymir: “I swore—if there’s life after death, I’d keep my promise. ‘I’ll protect you.’”  
Her hands closed around Historia’s—warm, unyielding.  
“But don’t look back, idiota. No more masks. No more lies. Be yourself. And if anyone tries to cage you again—I’ll break their hands.”

Historia didn’t pull away.

Historia (whispering): “I loved you. I love you.”

Ymir (quiet, absolute): “Then let me love you now. Not as a duty. Not as a memory. Just… us.”

A long silence.

Then—

Historia (soft, exhausted honesty): “I had a daughter. In my past life.”  
A pause. Grief, not regret.  
“I died giving birth to her. I never held her. But… she lived. Grew. Ruled. She’s free.”  
She met Ymir’s eyes—no shame. Just truth.  
“Here? I get to choose. Really choose.”

Ymir nodded—no grand vows. Just presence.

Ymir: “Then choose me. Or don’t. But don’t lie about it.”

From the bridge, Aqua watched—laughter dying in her throat.

[Not a conquest. A reckoning.  
Not a rival. A home.]

She glanced at Eren—waiting, patient, not jealous.

And for the first time—

she understood.

Some loves weren’t battles.

They were sanctuaries.

And this one?

It had survived hell to find its way back.

That was worth more than any divine law.

More than any secret she carried.

More than silence.

Aqua (grinning, sly): “In that moment, Eren felt true terror~”

Eren (rolling his eyes): “You’re ridiculous. And wrong.”

Aqua (quiet, no smile): “When a human looks like that… they’ve already sentenced themselves.”  
A beat. Unflinching.  
“I recognize the ones who think they’ve burned through all their lifetimes.”

Eren didn’t argue.

Just watched as Ymir drew Historia close—hands in her hair, forehead resting against hers.

Then—the kiss.

Not hesitant.

Certain.

Five breathless minutes—no world beyond them.

When they parted, both flushed, breathless, alive.

Historia (whispering): “…Ymir.”

Ymir (laughing, soft): “Took you long enough to lead.”

The group scattered—awkward, respectful.

Eren lingered—not jealous. Contemplative.

Aqua sat apart—uncharacteristically still.

Eren (calling softly): “Aqua?”

No answer.

Armin (nudging him, gentle): “You’ve still got Mikasa.”

Eren (dry, not unkind): “I just want Historia to keep smiling. That’s enough.”

Darkness (fluttering eyelashes): “I’m available! Walter’s just a… trial run.”

Mikasa (deadpan): “She flirts with gravity.”

Eren (muttering): “I should’ve asked to be a pigeon…”

Ymir passed him—voice low, edged.

Ymir: “I won’t compete with you, Jaeger.”

Eren (flat): “Then stop poking the wound.”

She paused.

Ymir (quiet, sharp): “I don’t poke. I refuse to let you wear your guilt like armor. It doesn’t make you special. It just makes you alone.”

Armin stepped in—firm, final.

Armin: “Enough. We’re not re-fighting Paradis here.”

Eren exhaled—not anger. Relief.

Because for the first time—

his pain wasn’t a weapon.

Just a scar.

And scars, he was learning—

could be healed.

Ten minutes later—peace, at last.

The inn’s courtyard: sun-dappled, quiet.

Armin and Mikasa sipped tea, serene.

Eren, however—not.

Eren (rubbing his temples): “You knew they’d swarm us. And you brought us here? God, just—shoot me.”

Ymir (cheerfully): “I’ll load the shotgun!”

Historia (hand over Ymir’s mouth): “Enough.”

Eren stood—sharp, tense—and walked out.

Historia’s smile faltered.

Megumin and Mikasa followed—not to scold. To anchor.

Aqua shot Ymir a look—venomous, protective.

Aqua (low, furious): “You went too far. Fix it. Or I’ll let Darkness ‘train’ you.”

Ymir (shrugging, unrepentant): “Fine. But no hugs.”

Darkness (dreamy): “Historia… Mikasa’s got claim on the fighter~”

Historia (flustered): “N-no! It’s not like—!”

Megumin (deadpan): “Everything was fine until you showed up.”

Ymir’s gaze—flat, lethal—silenced her.

Aqua beamed—suddenly radiant.

Aqua (spreading her arms, divine light shimmering): “While you sort out your love triangle… I have a city to guide!”

Darkness slipped away—after Eren.

Historia stared at her teacup—steam curling, heart heavier.

[Christa’s cage. Ymir’s vow. Eren’s quiet devotion.]

[How do you choose when all three saved you?]

—

At the park, Eren sat—calm, sun-warmed.

Megumin dragged them toward the hot springs.

Then—the trap.

A girl. Basket of apples. Tripped.

Eren (instinctive, helping): “Are you alright?”

Mikasa (grabbing his arm, fierce): “No one touches Eren on my watch!”

Girl (blushing, radiant): “Join the Axis Cult? It’s free!”

Eren’s blood ran cold.

[Not again. Not pilgrims.]

Eren (backing away): “No.”

She lunged—hand gripping his wrist.

Girl (bright, desperate): “I can read your future! Avoid disaster!”

Eren (pleading): “Saints, just let go—!”

Darkness stepped in—medallion gleaming.

Darkness (sweet, deadly): “I serve Eris, dear. Care to… convert?”

The girl recoiled—spat—vanished.

Eren exhaled—shaken.

Eren (dry, to Mikasa): “Religious fanatics. Just like the Wall Cult.”

Darkness (sighing, dreamy): “Her eyes were perfect… ahhh…”

Mikasa (nodding, grim): “We should leave. Before they try to baptize us.”

Eren (grinning, weary): “Can’t. Aqua would haunt us. Her routine’s sacred: eat, drink, sleep, repeat.”

They laughed—Mikasa’s rare, bright sound.

Then—

Mikasa (soft, hopeful): “Need comfort? My lap’s free.”

Eren (flat, retreating): “Hard pass. Where’s Jean when I need him?”

[widower. Happy. Free.]

He didn’t say it.

Just watched the steam rise from the springs—hazy, fragile.

Like second chances.

Like love, waiting to be chosen.

The group rounded a corner—and froze.

Two Axis devotees: a tall, broad-shouldered man and a sharp-eyed woman—eyed them with zealous fervor.

Armin stepped forward—always the diplomat.

Armin (smiling): “Of course, I’d be happy to—”

Eren (grabbing his collar): “No. You’re not signing anything. I’ll castrate you.”

Armin (startled): “It’s not like that! Mikasa and I joined Axis months ago!”

Megumin (gasping, betrayed): “Traitors!”

Eren groaned—fond, exasperated.

[Some things never change.]

The man lunged—accusing.

Man: “Heretic! You serve Eris!”

Eren (deadpan, already moving): “I’m not a baby in diapers.”

He blurred—fist cracked—the man dropped.

The woman shrieked—vanished.

Megumin (horrified): “You punched them?!”

Armin (pinching bridge of nose): “Must you always solve things with violence?”

Eren (shrugging): “At least I don’t negotiate with fanatics.”

Armin (muttering): “Alcornoque.”

Eren (grinning): “Who even says that? Let’s go—cathedral. Time to talk to the queen bee.”

—

Inside the grand temple—marble, mosaics, madness—Eren entered alone.

A nun approached—too eager.

Nun: “Come to confess? To convert? Or… to me?”

Eren (cold, eyes sharp): “Keep talking. I’ll break your jaw.”

She paled—fled.

He pushed into the confessional.

And there—Aqua, in pristine blue-and-white vestments, halo of sunlight framing her.

Aqua (serene, divine): “Welcome, lost lamb. Confess your sins. The goddess forgives.”

Eren (flat): “It’s me. Get out before I drag you out.”

Aqua (sweet, mocking): “Ah! The ‘It’s me’ confession! How humble. Come, rest your weary soul upon my—”

Eren (cutting in): “Racist. You crossed a line.”

She blinked.

Aqua (leaning forward, curious): “Confess more.”

He sighed—then smirked.

Eren (deadpan): “I have a drunk, brain-dead priestess. I punched an Axis deer. I’m in love with a woman who loves someone else. And… I want to Rumble this world.”  
A pause. Grin sharpens.  
“Oh—and I’ll murder my priestess in her sleep. She’s useless against toads.”

Aqua’s divine composure shattered.

Aqua (leaping up, shaking him): “TRAITOR! YOU MONSTER!”

—

Later—calmer, quieter.

Eren rubbed his sore shoulders.

Eren (sheepish): “Joke. All of it. Except the you’re annoying part.”

Aqua (sniffling, wary): “…Really?”

Eren (soft, sincere): “I swear it. As an Eldian.”

Megumin slipped into the confessional—hollow-eyed, trembling.

Eren didn’t hesitate. Just pulled her into a rough, brotherly side-hug.

Eren (gentle, for him): “Alright. Let’s go.”

Megumin (whispering, traumatized): “They offered soap. Formularies. Their eyes… Eren, their eyes…”

Aqua (defensive): “My followers are saints.”

Eren (dry): “Tell that to the deer.”

Then—Mikasa burst in—hair disheveled, breathless.

Mikasa: “Darkness was stoned.”

Darkness (dreamy, from the doorway): “Almost climaxed…”

Armin (urgent): “Ymir’s fighting Axis devotees!”

Chaos.

Thirty minutes of shouting, shoving, and Ymir’s Titan-enhanced resilience later—they dragged her, bruised but grinning, back to the inn.

Eren crossed his arms—cold, unimpressed.

Eren: “Well? Defend yourself.”

Ymir (smirking): “They deserved it. Though… you and Mikasa—problems?”

Historia (firm, stepping between them): “Enough.”

Eren/Ymir (in unison): “He/She started it!”

Aqua’s fist glowed—God Blow primed.

Aqua (furious): “No one mocks my friend!”

Ymir (laughing, unflinching): “Oh, please—”

THWACK.

Historia’s slap stunned them all.

Historia (voice sharp, eyes blazing): “Stop. Or I walk away. Permanently.”

Silence.

Aqua crumpled—teary, wounded.

Aqua (muffled): “No one cares…”

Eren (kneeling beside her, soft but sure): “I do. Always.”

Her tears slowed.

Megumin (hugging Chomusuke close): “And I! Ignore the cretin!”

Aqua (sniffling, a real smile breaking through): “Best. Goddess. Ever.”

Eren stood—smile fading—and walked out.

Armin watched him go—that old, hollow look in his eyes—and felt the chill of Shiganshina rise again.

—

Outside, Historia found him on the inn’s back steps.

He didn’t turn.

Historia (sitting beside him, quiet): “…I’m sorry.”

Eren (staring at the stars): “For what? Choosing you? Or choosing her?”

She didn’t answer.

Just opened her lap.

He rested his head there—exhausted, safe.

Inside, Megumin held up Chomusuke—a fluffy, suspicious ball of fur.

Megumin (solemn): “His name is Chomusuke.”

Eren (chuckling, muffled against Historia’s knee): “Chomusuke? Does it even have a gender, or is it just… chaos?”

Megumin (pouting, adorably fierce): “He’s perfect!”

Aqua (squinting at the cat): “That thing’s evil.”

Historia (petting Chomusuke’s head, smiling): “He’s just… ours.”

And for a moment—no Titans, no Rumbling, no cults—

just a girl, her cat, and a broken man finally learning how to rest.

The entrance to the baths glowed under blue lanterns, steam hissing gently from the vents.

The attendant took their coins without comment—just another Tuesday.

Ymir led the way, voice crisp.

Ymir: “Rules: no clothes, wash first, no splashing, no politics.”

Armin (nodding): “And if someone passes out from the heat—pull them out. Happens weekly.”

Megumin (frowning): “That’s it? Last time was way more complicated.”

Darkness just smiled—already untying her sash.

Inside the women’s changing room, Ymir guided Historia—gentle, firm.

Ymir: “Here, skin isn’t sin. It’s just… skin.”

Historia swallowed—not shame. Habit.

Historia (quiet): “I was watched as queen. Never seen.”

Ymir (soft, sure): “No crowns here. Just you.”

Megumin was already stripping—casual, unselfconscious.

Megumin: “My whole family squeezed into one tub! Chomusuke takes up more space!”

Darkness (calm): “We’re all just… bodies. Warm. Tired. Human.”

Historia lingered—then sighed.

Historia: “Where I’m from… baths were for the rich. Most just stank for days.”  
A pause. Honest.  
“We called it surviving.”

Megumin (eyes wide): “…Douches?”

Ymir (from the doorway, smiling): “We use manatites. Heat the water with mana. Efficient.”

—

The men’s side.

Eren stood rigid—not fear. Reflex.

Armin adjusted his glasses—knowing.

Armin: “You don’t owe the world your attention here, Eren. Just… be.”

Mikasa (arms crossed, blunt): “If anyone’s uncomfortable—it’s you who leaves.”

Eren (quiet): “It’s not that.”

Mikasa (soft, sharp): “I know. It’s the silence where orders used to be.”

Aqua popped up behind them—grinning, towel draped.

Aqua: “Relax! If things get weird, I’ll just faint dramatically.”

Eren exhaled.

Steam curled in soft ribbons over the mixed bath—warm, thick, quiet.

Eren sat rigid on the edge, back to the group, arms crossed—not defiance. Defense.

Mikasa submerged, serene, giving him space.

Armin floated nearby, eyes closed.

Armin (quiet, to Aqua): “Doesn’t it bother you? A goddess, seen like this?”

Aqua (shrugging, unbothered): “Only if they stare. Then I break their kneecaps. Politely.”  
A pause. Earnest.  
“I’m not a nudist. This is ritual. Sacred. Like… communion. Just with less wine.”

Eren sank deeper—heat seeping into bone-tired muscle.

Then—sleep.

Not rest.

The dream came.

[Armin’s hand, reaching. The crunch of bone. Carla’s last breath. The endless, hollow roar of the Colossal.]

His fingers twitched—steam gathering at his knuckles.

Mikasa’s eyes opened.

She moved—silent, sure—and placed her hand over his.

Not restraint.

Anchor.

Mikasa (soft, just for him): “You’re here, Eren. Not there. Breathe.”

He did.

Steam dissipated.

Ymir (soft, final): “The true end of Paradis is yours to choose now, Eren. Save them. Or burn them again. Or… speak to her—the one who truly shaped your tragedy.”  
A pause. Warm, certain.  
“My children… live freely. Laugh. Love. Don’t repeat my mistakes. I’ll pray for your safety.”  
Then—the ground gave way.

Eren jolted awake—steam on his skin, Arcanretia’s lanterns glowing through the haze.

Armin (waving a hand): “Eren! Earth to Jaeger!”

Eren (rubbing his eyes): “Huh? Sorry. Zoned out.”

Armin (mock-dramatic): “Crueler than Shadis!”

Eren stiffened—memories surging.

[Shadis. The 104th. Hannes’ last shout.]

He nearly shouted—“I can use the Founding Titan here!”—but caught himself.

Eren (forcing lightness): “Forget it. Just… babbling.”

Armin studied him—not pushing.

Armin (gentle): “How about a party? You’ve been wound tighter than a spring.”

Eren’s smile was thin—but real.

Eren: “Aqua’ll explode.”

Armin (grinning): “Mikasa’s in a swimsuit!”

Eren (dry): “You’re fifteen again. I don’t fall for that.”

Armin (laughing): “She is, though. Nudist policy’s waived for non-locals.”

Eren exhaled—not disappointment. Relief.

Then—quietly:

Eren: “You and Mikasa… you’re my family. More than blood.”  
A beat. Raw.  
“I’d trade every second of my life to give you a long one. You’re the hero, Armin.”

Armin (firm, no room for argument): “We saved each other. Together. And we’ll do it again. No more carrying the world alone.”

Eren didn’t argue.

Just watched the steam rise—light catching gold in the water.

[No more Rumbling. No more cages.]

[Just this: warm water, stubborn friends, and a future waiting to be chosen.]

—

Elsewhere, in the women’s bath:

Ymir slid into the water beside Darkness and Megumin—no armor. Just truth.

Ymir (direct): “I loved Historia. In our world… I never knew if she felt the same.”  
A wry smile.  
“Now? I get to ask.”

Darkness sighed—not bitter. Weary.

Darkness: “I like a man who’d rather drown than touch me. And the only one who sees me? He’s… too kind.”

Megumin patted her hand—sudden, fierce.

Megumin: “Chomusuke likes you. That counts.”

Ymir laughed—real, unguarded.

And in that steam-filled quiet—no crowns, no Titans, no past—

just women, learning how to hope.

Megumin (quiet, sincere): “Knowing who you are—and what you feel—that’s bravery, Ymir.”

Ymir smiled—not her usual smirk. Grateful.

Ymir: “Thanks. Guess I needed to say it out loud.”

From the men’s bath, Eren heard it all—steam curling, voices drifting like smoke.

Aqua drifted closer—elbow on the stone, voice low.

Aqua: “You’re quiet. That means trouble.”

Eren (eyes closed): “Or peace. Try it sometime.”

She grinned—too sharp, too knowing.

Aqua: “It’s Historia, isn’t it? Watching her choose Ymir…”

He didn’t flinch.

Eren (calm, certain): “If she’s happy—if she smiles—that’s enough. Let her be free. Live long. That’s all I want.”

Aqua studied him—not mocking. Assessing.

Aqua: “Huh. You’re weird. Good weird.”  
A pause. Closer.  
“But don’t forget me.”

Eren (one eye open, dry): “Back up.”

Aqua (teasing, dangerous): “Nervous? After that drunken night?”

Eren (flat): “You’re a goddess with the brain of a goldfish.”

Aqua (laughing, bright): “Admit it—you’re enchanted by my beauty, my silky hair, my—”

Eren (deadpan): “—Your exhausting personality? Absolutely.”

She splashed him.

He didn’t move.

—

The women’s bath.

Mikasa entered—naked, unflinching—steam parting around her.

Silence.

Historia (softly): “You switched sides.”

Mikasa (firm, no apology): “I’m where I’m needed.”

Ymir watched—not jealousy. Recognition.

Ymir (murmuring): “Ah. That kind of loyalty.”

Darkness tilted her head.

Darkness: “Historia draws people in. Not by command—by trust.”

Megumin (nodding): “She listens. Even when we’re… a lot.”

Ymir’s smile deepened—quiet victory.

Then—Historia’s voice, clear across the steam:

Historia: “We never finished talking about Darkness’s engagement.”

Darkness (grinning, relaxed): “Walter’s dating me. Alderp’s bribed into silence. But a wedding?”  
She stretched, languid.  
“Let him wait.”

No tension.

Just truth—floating in warm water, safe, unbroken. 

Historia (projecting, sweetly): “So—Eren, Aqua—what exactly happened that night?”

Ymir’s head snapped toward her.

Eren’s cheeks flushed—not shame. Mortification.

Eren (muttering): “Nothing. A mistake.”

Aqua (grinning, wicked): “We made babies~”

Darkness winced.

Darkness: “Must we air Jaeger’s poor life choices like laundry?”

Megumin (squirming): “This is not bath talk!”

But Historia pressed—gentle, relentless.

Historia (eyes wide, hopeful): “So… you kissed? And… the rest? For babies?”

Eren: “…”

Ymir’s knuckles whitened.

Mikasa’s gaze turned glacial.

Mikasa (cold, sharp): “Why do you care? His private life isn’t your business.”

Historia (ignoring her, beaming): “The soldier plushie! Is it for your baby? You’ll be such a wonderful mother, Aqua!”

Aqua paled—trapped.

Aqua (whisper-hissing to Eren): “You tell her.”

Eren (deadpan): “Your mess. Your divine honor.”

Aqua: “You do it!”

Eren: “Servant’s work. Not mine.”

Aqua: “Fine! I’ll—wait.”

He’d won.

Eren (smirking): “One month. No favors. Deal.”

Aqua (grumbling): “…Fine.”

[He’s never asked me for a single thing…]

She slipped into the women’s bath—steam parting—and leaned close to Historia.

Aqua (low, urgent, lacing truth with fiction): “Shh. Listen. We drank. A lot. One kiss—just one—and then… poof! Magic! My body’s divine purity rejected, uh… anything permanent. So no babies. Just… regrets. And a very embarrassed goddess.”

Historia’s face fell—not disappointment. Relief.

Historia (softly): “Oh. So… no baby?”

Aqua (patting her hand, solemn): “Just the plushie. A memorial.”

Ymir watched—no anger. Quiet understanding.

[She doesn’t want him broken. She wants him free.]

Mikasa turned away—not rejection. Resignation.

The steam hung thick as Aqua slipped back into the men’s bath, leaving Historia’s hopeful gaze lingering in the air.

Historia (innocent, loud): “So—when’s the wedding?”

Eren choked—steam, shame, shock.

Aqua froze.

Eren (recovering, dry): “A bit exaggerated.”

Historia (smiling, serene): “Ah. A secret wedding, then.”

Mikasa’s jaw tightened—not rage. Resignation.

Then—disaster.

Eren stumbled—rock, slick tile—pitching forward.

Armin caught him—steady, concerned.

Aqua dropped to her knees beside him—hands on his thighs, voice low.

Aqua: “So… we’re doing this?”

Eren (grudging, extending his hand): “If I must.”

She seized it—fingers lacing, grip firm.

Aqua (teasing, but earnest): “Swear it. Titan’s honor.”

He didn’t pull away.

Eren (quiet): “…Fine.”

She leaned in—too close, too bright.

Aqua: “You’re a good leader. Darkness’s aim? Sharp now.”

Eren (shrugging, practical): “Wiz’s potions. Not my teaching.”

Aqua (hands on his shoulders, playful): “Admit it. You’re charming.”

He stayed still—no blush. No flinch.

Just waiting.

Then—she straddled his lap.

Aqua (breath warm on his ear): “This make you nervous?”

His expression didn’t change—not discomfort. Calculation.

She hugged him—soft, deliberate—pressing close.

Heat rose.

Armin (clearing throat, pointed): “Ahem. Policy violation.”

—

A splash.

Sharp. Violent.

Darkness (shouting): “EREN! Mikasa shoved Historia!”

Eren was moving before the echo faded.

He burst into the women’s bath—steam, panic—to find Mikasa pale, Ymir gripping her arm, Historia coughing, hair soaked, forehead bleeding.

Eren (voice low, dangerous): “‘A pigeon pushed her’?”

Mikasa looked away—guilt, not defiance.

Ymir stepped forward—smile sharp.

Ymir: “I’ll give her mouth-to-mouth. Gladly.”

Eren (flat, exhausted): “Don’t.”

He knelt—gently lifted Historia—towel wrapped, pulse checked.

[Not broken. Just… hurt.]

Aqua appeared beside him—hands glowing.

Aqua (soft, no joke): “Let me fix her.”

Eren didn’t argue.

Just held Historia—steady, silent—as the light knit skin.

Mikasa laid Historia gently on the bench—water dripping, hair clinging to her pale cheeks.

Eren hesitated—not fear. Doubt.

[Do I deserve this? To be the one who wakes her?]

Ymir (sharp, impatient): “Move, Jaeger! Or do you want her drowned?”

Eren (flustered): “I’m trying!”

He knelt.

She looked… peaceful. Like a storybook princess—waiting.

[An angel. A queen. And I’m just… Eren.]

His breath caught.

Then—he leaned in.

Soft. Certain.

His lips met hers—warm, yielding—breath flowing, life returning.

[Not a rescue. A promise.]

She stirred—eyelids fluttering—but didn’t pull away.

[Let me pretend. Just a little longer.]

Mikasa’s voice cut through the haze.

Mikasa (icy, furious): “Stop. She’s awake. Has been.”

Eren jerked back—face burning, pulse wild.

Historia opened her eyes—wide, guilty, radiant.

Historia (flustered): “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t—!”

Ymir (grinning, triumphant): “Knew it. The emo’s got her.”

Aqua (cackling): “Don’t forget Hitler!”

They laughed—tense, relieved—the moment dissolving into steam.

—

Later, on a quiet bench overlooking the springs, Eren sat alone—calm, hollow.

Then—footsteps.

Historia (breathless, earnest): “You didn’t wait.”

Eren (not looking at her): “Shouldn’t you be with Ymir?”

She caught his wrist—firm, trembling.

Historia (voice breaking): “Don’t go. Please. I can’t lose the man who saved me.”

He turned.

Met her eyes—blue, bright, honest—and the last of his walls crumbled.

Eren (soft, sure): “You’re free to choose. Ymir. A farmer. Anyone.”  
A pause. Unshakable.  
“But I’ll always be there. To guard your smile. To fight for your happiness.”

Her breath hitched.

Historia (whispering): “You’re… so much more than a friend.”

He stood—soldier’s grace—and bowed, hand over his heart.

Eren (solemn, radiant): “Historia Reiss—if you choose me—I vow to honor you. Protect you. Love you. Until death, and beyond.”

Tears spilled.

Historia (laughing through them): “You’re asking this of the woman who spent her life lying?”

Eren (smiling, real): “Christa hid. Historia fights. And she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever known.”

She stepped forward—no shame. No fear.

And in the golden light of Arcanretia—

they embraced.

Not as savior and saved.

But as equals. 

They held each other—eight minutes, suspended—warmth, breath, the quiet thrum of two hearts finally in sync.

Then—voices.

Devotee 1 (overeager): “Join Axis! Free!”

Devotee 2 (thrusting detergent): “Newlyweds? Take this soap!”

They sprang apart—flushed, startled.

Eren (grabbing Historia’s hand): “Run.”

Historia (whispering): “Megumin was right. They’re terrifying.”

The devotees pressed closer—smiles too wide, eyes too bright.

Devotee 1: “Just join! One signature! Please!”

Eren (low, dangerous): “No.”

Devotee 2 (leaning in): “Pleeease—”

Crack.

Eren moved—not rage. Efficiency.

One punch. Two. Three.

Bodies dropped—piled, unconscious.

Historia reached for him—too late.

His knuckles gleamed—red, raw.

Eren (voice flat, final): “I am Eren Jaeger. Demon of Paradis. I will never kneel to your cult. Or to Aqua’s.”

Historia’s breath caught.

Historia: “…Eren?”

Ymir (dry, beside her): “Fanatics’ll do that to you.”

—

Thirty minutes later—the plaza.

A mob.

“EXILE THE DEMON!”  
“BURN HIM!”

Aqua stood between them—desperate, divine.

Aqua (pleading): “He’s not what he says! I swear it—goddess’s honor!”

Crowd (sneering): “Liar! Burn her too!”

Eren didn’t flinch.

Just stared—void in his eyes—and the crowd shrank back.

Aqua (voice cracking): “Eren… please. Say you’re sorry.”

Eren (quiet, lethal): “Why lie? I am the enemy of humanity. I am the Demon of the Earth.”  
A pause. Ice.  
“Let them come.”

Aqua’s fist glowed—God Blow.

It flew.

Eren caught it—twisted her wrist, shoved her down.

Aqua (teary, stunned): “Why?!”

Eren (turning away): “Stay out of my way.”

Aqua (whispering, broken): “…Then go. And never come back.”

Historia lunged—Megumin held her back.

Megumin (soft, firm): “Let him breathe.”

Historia watched him vanish—tears silent.

[If only I’d held on tighter. If only I’d kissed him longer.]

—

Eren fled to the baths—steam, silence, solitude.

Stripped. Stepped in.

Heat soothed the ache in his hands.

The ache in his chest?

That would take longer.

Because some wounds—

weren’t meant to heal in hot water.

They needed time.

Truth.

And maybe—just maybe—

the quiet, stubborn love of a queen who refused to let him drown. 

Eren sank deeper into the water—heat, quiet, temporary peace.

Then—voices.

A man—Hans—sat rigid on the stone ledge, jaw tight.

Beside him—Wolbach—reclined, crimson hair spilling over her shoulders, radiating calm like a predator at rest.

Wolbach (soft, amused): “You’re wound tighter than a spring, Hans.”

Hans (gritted, seething): “Axis fanatics shoved detergent in my face. I want this city ash.”

Wolbach’s gaze drifted—not casual. Calculating—and landed on Eren.

Wolbach (murmuring): “That one. The one pretending to sleep.”

Eren didn’t move.

But he felt it—a pull. Recognition. Like steel calling to steel.

Hans followed her stare.

Hans (suspicious): “Him?”

Wolbach (smiling, slow, dangerous): “He’s… interesting.”

She called him.

Wolbach: “You.”

Eren rose—water sluicing off his shoulders—and approached.

No fear.

Just assessment.

Wolbach (studying him, unblinking): “Not from here. Not a devotee.”

Eren (flat): “No.”

Hans (sharp): “What do you do?”

Eren (meeting Wolbach’s eyes): “Fight. When needed.”

A beat.

Something in her smile deepened—not warmth. Recognition.

Wolbach: “I’m… Selina.”

The name hung—false, flimsy.

Eren didn’t call her on it.

Just smiled—easy, edged.

Eren: “Honor to meet you, Selina. A woman as beautiful as you must have suitors lined up.”

Wolbach (a flicker—pleasure? amusement?—): “None. And none should.”

Hans saw it—the shift. The understanding passing between them.

[He heard us. He knows.]

Wolbach stood—smooth, sudden.

Wolbach (too bright): “Time to go. Hans.”

She left.

And the calm shattered.

Eren’s blood hummed—not with rage.

With anticipation.

—

Outside the city gates—wind, dust, silence.

No more masks.

Eren (voice low, final): “You want to burn Arcanretia? I’ll send you to hell first.”

Hans (grinning, no surprise): “Figured you’d catch on. Smart boy.”

Eren’s stance shifted—weight forward, hands loose.

Eren (cold, absolute): “This city means everything to her. I won’t let you burn it.”

Hans (grinning): “Ah—love. How noble.”

Eren’s hand bled—silent, ready.

Hans laughed—not mocking. Intrigued.

Hans: “Still. Sentiment won’t save you.”

Eren (voice like steel): “I’ll erase you. Atom by atom.”

Hans (shrugging, calm): “You first. And know this—I’m not some grunt.”  
A pause. Smile sharpens.  
“I’m a General of the Demon King.”

The ground rippled.

Hans melted—spreading, oozing, a colossal slime consuming stone, grass, air—acidic, amorphous, immune.

Eren didn’t hesitate.

Cut.

Lightning.

Steam.

The Armored Titan rose—15 meters of hardened fury—but Eren stood outside, astride its shoulder, eyes locked on the quivering mass.

Eren: “Back to hell.”

Hans (voice echoing, distorted): “Come on, Golem. Let’s play.”

—

Meanwhile, at the inn—

Aqua sat curled on the floor, untouched bottle beside her.

[Four months. Shattered in five words.]

Historia held her—gentle, firm.

Ymir stared at her hands—guilt, heavy.

Darkness (uneasy): “Where is he?”

Armin (forcing calm): “Training. Or… walking it off.”

Megumin (petting Chomusuke on her head): “…Mikasa’s gone too.”

Armin: “What?! Since when?!”

Silence.

Then—the innkeeper burst in—face pale, voice shaking.

Innkeeper: “You need to see—outside—”

Aqua (not looking up): “Don’t care.”

Mikasa (slamming through the door, breathless): “Eren. It’s Eren.”

Aqua (flat): “Let him rot.”

Mikasa (desperate, trembling): “He fought. Outside the city. I saw it—he walked out, and—”

Guards entered—carrying a stretcher.

Eren lay pale, skin blistered, muscles still sizzling with corrosive residue. Breathing—shallow, ragged—but alive.

Innkeeper (whispering): “We couldn’t face it. Whatever that thing was… he lost.”

Lost.

The word hung.

Eren Jaeger.

The Demon of Paradis.

Defeated.

Historia’s hands clenched—knuckles white.

Historia (voice low, lethal): “Who.”

Mikasa met her eyes—no fear. Resolve.

Mikasa: “A General. One of the Demon King’s Commanders.”

Silence.

Then—

Historia moved.

Not to cry.

To plan.

Because in that moment—

peace wasn’t enough.

Justice wasn’t enough.

They needed fire.

And Eren Jaeger—

was still breathing.

Eren jolted awake—skin burning, throat thick with the taste of blood and acid.

The room was clean. Sterile. Wrong.

[Hell? Did I finally earn it?]

Then—warmth. A hand in his.

Sparks flickered at his fingertips—pain, memory.

[Fool. Solo against a General. For her.]

He sat up—wincing—and saw Historia asleep beside him, drool glistening on her chin.

Adorable.

He tucked the blanket around her—gentle—and turned to the window.

His reflection stared back—haunted.

[Ymir’s voice. The blood. The promise: “You’ll be free.”]

Then—arms.

Historia crashed into him, sobbing.

Historia (muffled, fierce): “Idiot! Don’t do that again!”

Eren (soft, teasing): “A compliment wouldn’t kill you.”

Ymir (from the doorway, sharp): “Tontolandia awaits!”

Eren (mock-wounded): “My flea-sized heart!”

Ymir’s laughter cut off—abrupt, sincere.

Ymir (quiet, no smirk): “Thanks.”

Eren (confused): “For what?”

Ymir (meeting his eyes, unflinching): “For fighting her war. For her city. For her.”  
A pause. Not a threat. A vow.  
“I’ll be watching, Jaeger. But… good.”

Eren blinked—stunned.

Then—Armin and Mikasa.

He smiled—real, relieved.

Eren: “Glad you’re here.”

Armin (grumbling): “Next time? Warn us. Mikasa nearly died.”

Mikasa (teary, defensive): “Lies! I—”

Eren didn’t hesitate.

Forehead kiss.

Soft. Brotherly.

Mikasa froze—blushing, breathless.

Mikasa (whispering): “…He kissed me.”

Eren (deadpan): “Head. Not lips. Chorlito.”

Then—Aqua.

She didn’t yell.

Just collapsed against him—sobbing, fists clutching his shirt.

Aqua (broken): “Idiot! I thought—I lost you—”

Eren (holding her, voice rough): “My fault. I forgot… you care.”

She pulled back—tears glistening.

Aqua (sniffling): “Am I… too much?”

Eren (firm, gentle): “You’re Aqua. Loud, messy, alive. Anyone who can’t handle that? Their loss.”

Her smile wobbled—then broke into something real.

Aqua: “Your loss if I sit on you harder next time.”

He groaned—but didn’t push her away.

Around them—laughter.

Light.

Then—Ymir’s quiet words echoed in his mind.

[“For her.”]

He looked at Historia—smiling, watching him.

And for the first time—

the dream’s weight didn’t crush him.

It anchored him.

Eren (to the room, calm, certain): “Tell me everything. We’re ending this.”

Eren (voice tight, urgent): “Hans plans to burn Arcanretia to ash. Turn it into a slaughterhouse.”

Armin (practical, weary): “If you couldn’t stop him alone, we need strategy—not suicide.”

Eren (fist clenching): “I promised her. Her city. Her freedom.”  
A pause. Carla’s voice, distant.  
“I won’t break that.”

Aqua tilted her head—genuine curiosity.

Aqua: “How exactly did this Hans look?”

Eren shuddered.

Eren: “A slime. Acidic. Consuming. Not like Titans. Worse.”

Darkness (nodding grimly): “A Poison Limo. Nearly invincible to physical strikes.”

Megumin (frowning): “Why target baths? Our economy’s built on them.”

Aqua (suddenly serious—no jokes): “The springs… they’ve been poisoned. I purified them, but the damage—”

Eren (cutting in, cold fury): “They’re targeting her. The city. Everything she loves.”  
He met Historia’s eyes—not pleading. Promising.  
“I won’t lose anyone else. Not this time.”

Silence.

Then—Armin’s dry chuckle.

Armin: “Huh. So you do care about Aqua’s hot springs.”

Eren (flustered): “Alcornoque!”

Laughter erupted—Aqua, Darkness, even Megumin.

Aqua (grinning, playful): “Marry me, Tatakae! Just buy me a nice ring~”

Eren (voice cracking, raw): “Stop. You deserve better than… me.”

The room stilled.

Aqua’s smile vanished.

Aqua (soft, fierce): “You’re not trash, Eren. You’re the friend who saw me—really saw me—when I was drowning in wine and regret.”  
A pause. Tears glistening.  
“That night… you didn’t judge my drunken mess. You just… stayed.”

Eren looked away—swallowing hard.

[The Succubus. The kiss. The lie.]

[The weight of a Law broken.]

Then—resolve.

Eren (standing, voice steady): “Hans left me alive to mock me. To prove I’m weak.”  
He scanned the room—his team. His family.  
“We change that. Now. Aqua—can your purification contain poison long-term? Megumin—what explosives disrupt slimes? Darkness—your armor. Can it resist acid?”  
A beat. Leader, not soldier.  
“Ymir—your Titan eyes. Armin—tactics. Mikasa—flank. Historia—”  
He met her gaze—no masks.  
“You keep us human.”

Eren (sharp, focused): “Forget the jokes. Hans. Arcanretia.”

Then—a pause. He tugged at his tunic—soggy, charred at the edges.

Eren: “Why’s it… wet?”

Aqua (instantly indignant): “Pervert!”

Eren (flustered): “Idiot! I meant the acid—!”

Mikasa stepped forward—no-nonsense.

Mikasa: “You vanished after the baths. I found you outside the city. The ground… melted.”

Armin (calm, analytical): “Acid. Your regeneration was barely keeping up.”

Ymir snorted—but her eyes were sharp.

Ymir: “Showing off? ‘Look, I heal in slime’?”

Eren (shaking his head): “No. It wasn’t just Titan power. Something… stopped the acid.”

All eyes turned to Aqua.

Aqua (blinking): “I just… poured water. Lots.”

Eren (insistent): “It cooled the burn. Healed it. Not like Titan regeneration. Different.”

Armin froze—realization dawning.

Armin (quiet, intense): “Aqua—when you touch liquid… it becomes pure water. Right?”

Aqua (shrugging): “Duh. It’s purification.”

Armin (leaning in): “But if that slime was acid… you neutralized it. On contact. And that water… it accelerated his healing. Created a buffer.”

Aqua’s mouth fell open.

Aqua: “…I did?”

Ymir (grudging, impressed): “Huh. Guess you’re not just a drunk.”

Eren sank back—exhausted, thoughtful.

Eren (muttering): “Clueless goddess saves the day… figures.”

Aqua (defensive): “I knew it made hot water! Not holy water!”

Armin (cutting in, urgent): “The river. If he poisons the source…”

Silence.

Aqua went pale.

Aqua (whispering): “The baths… the faith… everything…”

Historia (soft, firm): “You’re not just a goddess now. You’re responsible.”

Aqua didn’t argue.

Just nodded—jaw set.

Aqua: “Then we stop him. Now.”

Eren (standing, wincing but resolute): “I fight. Warhammer Titan. Ranged. No close quarters.”

Mikasa (already at his shoulder): “I flank.”

Megumin (báculo raised): “Long-range Explosion.”

Darkness (smiling, badge gleaming): “I’ll ‘persuade’ the guards. Noble privilege.”

Historia (meeting Ymir’s gaze): “We warn the city. Eren can’t explain. I’ll be the voice.”

Ymir (a rare, genuine smile): “And I’ll be the fang at your back.”

Aqua took a breath—deep, steady.

Aqua: “Then move.”

No hesitation.

Just purpose.

They gathered weapons, resolve hardening like tempered steel.

Eren’s wounds still burned.

But for the first time—

the fire felt useful.

Directed.

They moved as one—toward the river, toward the threat, toward a future they’d fight to keep.

They found him at the river’s source—steaming, acidic, grinning.

Hans (mocking disbelief): “You? I left you dissolving, Jaeger. Persistent little pest.”

Eren (calm, lethal): “I owe your head to a friend. Lucky for me—you’re terrible at hiding.”

Hans’s smirk faltered.

Hans: “A friend? How… sentimental.”

Aqua (stepping forward, divine light flaring): “Enough chatter, slime. Try me.”

Hans laughed—dismissive, cruel.

Hans: “A goddess? You’re the party escort, surely.”

Aqua’s glow burned brighter.

Aqua: “Wrong.”

Megumin (báculo raised, voice cracking with fury): “Insult her again.”

Weapons drawn. Stances set.

Hans stretched—bones cracking, skin rippling.

Hans (delighted, monstrous): “HONOR to fight you! Though futile—the springs are already poisoned. You’re too late.”

Eren didn’t flinch.

Just met Hans’s gaze—no rage. Resolve.

Eren (quiet, absolute): “I know what it’s like to burn the world. To think it’s the only way.”  
A beat. Truth, not threat.  
“But freedom isn’t taken in blood. It’s built. And I’ll break you to protect it.”

He didn’t roar.

Just moved.

Cut.

Lightning.

Steam.

The War Hammer Titan rose—15 meters of hardened defiance.

Spikes erupted—piercing, pinning—the slime’s core impaled, writhing.

Hans (gurgling, shocked): “Impossible!”

Eren (from the nape, voice steady): “Armin was right. Distance.”

Mikasa struck—blades flashing—but the acid hissed, steel melting.

Mikasa (gritted): “Useless.”

Darkness (yelling over the chaos): “Keep him pinned, Eren!”

Megumin (fierce, hopeful): “He’s got this!”

Aqua sprinted toward the poisoned river—hands outstretched, light blazing.

Aqua (muttering, divine focus): “Not today.”

No grand spectacle.

Just work.

Eren, anchoring chaos.

Aqua, mending poison.

Aqua sprinted—not strategy. Instinct—toward the dissolving Titan.

Aqua (voice breaking, desperate): “EREN! Don’t you dare quit! You asked me—if I’d be a mother! Answer me! FIGHT!”

Hans sneered—acid bubbling, victory certain.

Hans: “He’s mine now.”

Inside the slime—Eren’s eyes fluttered.

[A child’s voice. Carla’s hand. Historia’s smile.]

[“Live for yourself.”]

He moved.

Not enough.

Hans squeezed.

Then—chaos.

Rocks. Pitchforks. Sacks of grain.

The people of Arcanretia—led by Armin, Historia, Ymir—swarmed the bank, furious, fearless.

Citizen (roaring): “Hey, slime! Pick on someone my size!”

Another (teary, defiant): “We fight for our home!”

Aqua’s breath hitched—relief, terror, pride.

Mikasa lunged—snatched Eren’s limp form from the muck.

His body—shattered, bleeding—but breathing.

Megumin (scanning, frantic): “Explosion’s too risky—acid spreads!”

Aqua (whispering, raw): “I can revive them… but if they’re gone… Eren…”

Hans retaliated.

Gelatinous shrapnel.

Screams.

Blood.

Bodies fell—quiet, still.

Aqua staggered—faith, crumbling.

Aqua: “No… my people…”

Darkness (grabbing her arm, fierce): “We die together—or not at all!”

Then—Historia stepped forward.

Historia (calm, final): “I’ll distract him. Megumin—your explosion. One shot.”

Aqua (horrified): “You’ll die!”

Historia (smiling, tearful): “So will we all. Choose.”

No debate.

Just choice.

Megumin raised her báculo—tears streaking soot.

Then—the ground heaved.

A gale—unnatural, violent—erupted.

Citizens flew.

Girls slammed down—unconscious, broken.

Silence.

Dust.

And Hans—towering, triumphant—over Eren’s broken form.

[All for nothing?]

Aqua’s hands trembled—not with power. With grief.

But in the haze—

a crack.

Not of bone.

Of resolve.

Because Eren Jaeger had never truly been alone.

And the fight?

It wasn’t over.

It was just… waiting.

Hans (smug, viscous): “Finished. Your struggle… pointless.”  
He loomed over Eren’s shattered form—crystal core exposed.  
“Time to harvest what’s left. Even spinal fluid has value.”

Aqua stood alone—unbroken, trembling.

[Not a goddess. Just a friend.]

Aqua (voice raw, defiant): “He’s not trash. He’s mine.”

Historia crawled—bloodied, desperate—and grasped Eren’s hand.

[Touch. Memory.]

—

Nightmare.

Eren saw Aqua weeping—  
“You never should’ve come here… I put you on a pedestal… How can a goddess love a human?”  
Tears he’d never seen. Regret he’d never known.  
[“Why?!”]  
[A question without an answer.]

End.

—

Aqua (screaming, divine light flaring): “EREN!”

Hans plunged the crystal into his core—acid hissing, dissolving.

Then—

CRACK.

Ymir’s Jaw Titan slammed into him—burning, searing, holding.

Ymir (gritted, furious): “You don’t run.”

Darkness (stunned): “Ymir… a Titan too?!”

Eren rose—bones visible, breath ragged.

No rage.

Just truth.

Eren (weak, unshakable): “I’m out of strength… but not out of time.”  
He met Megumin’s eyes—no fear. Trust.  
“Now.”

Megumin (tears cutting tracks through grime): “Ready.”

Hans lunged.

Eren let go.

“EXPLOSION!!”

Light. Heat. Shrapnel.

The limo shattered—flung into the lake.

Aqua didn’t hesitate.

She dived.

“PURIFICATIO—!”

Sacred light erupted—black water clearing, poison dissolving.

Hans writhed—a final, shriveled mass.

Aqua (exhausted, radiant): “Over.”

Silence.

Then—steam.

Historia stumbled onto the bank just as Ymir’s Jaw Titan—charred, dissolving—surfaced from the steam. Eren tumbled from its jaws, both he and Ymir scorched raw.

Aqua (hoarse, commanding): “Into the lake! It’s purified now!”

They plunged him in—cool, sacred water knitting flesh.

Aqua didn’t rest.

She turned to the shore—bones. Ash. Her people.

One by one, she laid hands on cold skin.

“Rise.”

They did.

When the last coughed back to life—confused, unharmed—she glared skyward.

Aqua (furious, tear-streaked): “Eris! This isn’t funny!”

Silence.

Then—life.

No one knew their savior was the goddess they prayed to.

—

Nightmare.

Dissolving. Hollow.

Ymir Fritz stood before him—ancient, weary.

Eren (exhausted): “Is it… over?”

Ymir (soft, final): “Freedom’s yours. But these times? They’re not kind.”  
A pause. Eyes sharp.  
“Did losing them… make you see? Do you really want to leave them?”

Eren (no hesitation): “I can’t. Won’t.”

Ymir (almost smiling): “Then live. Choose peace. Or chaos. Your turn, Founder.”

The abyss swallowed him.

—

End.

He woke—sunlight, soft sheets.

Historia slept beside him—his shirt dwarfing her, hair gold on white.

Eren (hoarse, smiling): “Feels like centuries…”

Aqua (leaning in the doorway, grinning): “Three days, genius.”

Eren: “Three?!”

Aqua (waving it off): “Eris once made me nap for a millennium. This was a power nap.”

He studied her—tired, radiant, real.

Aqua (quiet, sudden): “Thank you, Eren.”

Eren (shrugging): “We did our parts.”

Aqua (stammering, blushing): “I—! That night—I wasn’t thinking—!”

He reached out—gentle, ruffling her hair.

Her breath hitched.

Then—she shattered.

Aqua (sobbing, crashing into him): “EREN!”

He held her—no words. Just presence.

When she pulled back—tears drying, smile wobbly—she looked lighter.

Aqua (soft): “What now?”

Eren (grinning): “Starving. Three-day fast?”

They laughed—easy, warm.

Then—Megumin appeared—báculo clutched, eyes downcast.

Megumin (voice breaking): “I’m sorry! My Explosion—! I’ll quit magic if you—!”

Eren (firm, gentle): “No. Explosion opened Hans’s core. But…”  
A pause. Truth, not blame.  
“It leaves you empty. Learn more. Not to be stronger—to stand alone.”

Megumin stared—then nodded, resolute.

Megumin: “I’ll learn. My way. But—”  
A smirk—familiar, fierce—  
“No sharing my card.”

Eren smiled.

Megumin’s tears threatened—Historia pulled her close, stroking her hair.

The air hung heavy—grief, exhaustion, the ghost of near-loss.

Then—Darkness grinned.

Darkness (breathless, dreamy): “Ahhh~ Ereh~ Not so rough—pretend I’m your girlfriend~”

Eren’s face flamed.

Eren (flustered, exasperated): “What is wrong with you?! How does your brain even function?!”

Darkness (suddenly serious, gentle): “Come eat. Please.”

The shift was instant—no mockery. Just care.

Thirty minutes later—lunch, quiet, together.

Eren excused himself—stood outside, staring at Arcanretia’s sunlit roofs.

[Saved. For now. But the world’s still broken.]

Aqua (soft, beside him): “You’re… off. Bad day?”

Eren (not looking at her): “When this is over—the Demon King—what then?”  
A pause. Raw.  
“What am I… to you?”

Aqua froze.

Aqua (stammering): “E-Eh?! You’re… my friend!”

Eren (quiet, aching): “Just that? After everything? You saved me. Fought for me. Why? Anyone else would’ve walked away.”

Her blush deepened—not embarrassment. Shame.

Aqua (whispering): “Because… you saw me. Not the goddess. Just… me.”

He didn’t press.

Just nodded—gratitude, not satisfaction.

Then—

Aqua (bright, deflecting): “They’re waiting! Let’s go!”

Eren (calm): “The citizens Hans ate…?”

Aqua (grinning, forced): “Revived! Boom—back to life! Best goddess ever!”

(She didn’t mention Eris’s silence. The delay. The doubt.)

—

Celebration turned to chaos.

Citizen 1 (dipping hand): “…Cold?”

Citizen 2 (sniffing): “No sulfur…?”

Murmurs. Accusations.

Citizen 3 (shouting): “Fraud! She stole our springs!”

Aqua stepped forward—exhausted, earnest.

Aqua: “The poison was in the water! Purification was the only way!”

Crowd (roaring): “Liar! Witch! Blasphemer!”

A stone whizzed—grazed her shoulder.

She flinched—not from pain. Betrayal.

Aqua (voice breaking): “I… saved you…”

Then—movement.

Eren stepped in front of her.

Mikasa to his left.

Ymir to his right.

No words.

Just walls.

Because some truths didn’t need preaching.

They needed standing.