45 His Name is Eren Yeager

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The Following 15 chapters are available for Patrons.

Chapter 46 (Mikasa's Love), Chapter 47 (A Knife in The Back), Chapter 48 (Annie's Fate), Chapter 49 (The 'Devils of Paradis'), Chapter 50 (Followers of Eren Yeager), Chapter 51 ('I Wanted to be A Hero'), Chapter 52 (The Yeagerists), Chapter 53 (A Giant Man, A Small Shadow), Chapter 54 (A Night of Pleasure), Chapter 55 (Reaching Wall Rose), Chapter 56 (Warriors Amongst Devils), Chapter 57 (A Trial for Humanity), Chapter 58 (A Betrayal), Chapter 59 (A Breach in Wall Rose), and Chapter 60 (The Beast Titan) are already available for Patrons.

"I Don't Have Time To Worry If It's Right Or Wrong, You Can't Hope For A Horror Story With A Happy Ending!"

As the first rays of dawn gently pierced through the curtains, Commander Nile found himself awakening from his peaceful slumber at the customary hour of 7 AM. Nestled beside him, his beloved wife lay sound asleep, her serene countenance undisturbed by the morning's arrival. With a tender smile adorning his face, Nile gently planted a soft kiss upon her forehead, a gesture that never failed to evoke a radiant smile from his beloved partner, illuminating the room with warmth and affection.

As he prepared to depart from the comforts of his humble abode, Nile made it a point to meticulously ensure the well-being of his three precious daughters. Gazing upon their serene countenances, peacefully nestled in their cozy beds, an overwhelming sense of joy flooded his heart, causing a radiant smile to grace his visage. Amidst the facade of stoicism he often donned during his arduous work endeavors, Nile found solace in the sanctuary of his home, where he felt liberated to unleash the full spectrum of his emotions.

Nile, a man of average stature, possessed an undeniable air of charisma that was accentuated by his meticulously maintained appearance. His short, ebony hair, meticulously trimmed to perfection on the sides and back, framed his face with effortless elegance. His eyes were as deep and mysterious as the darkest night. To add to his distinctive features, he proudly sported a meticulously groomed thin mustache and goatee.

Clad in his impeccable military uniform, Nile stood at the gate of their humble abode, his wife by his side, a bittersweet farewell hanging in the air. The morning sun cast a golden glow upon their faces as they exchanged a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of their love. With a heavy heart, Nile embarked on his "noble" duty, stepping into the waiting carriage, its elegant silhouette exuding an air of grandeur. As the skilled rider took hold of the reins, their leather straps glided through his weathered hands. The horses, their muscles rippling beneath glossy hides, eagerly surged forward, their hooves creating a rhythmic symphony against the cobbled streets, carrying Nile away from the warmth of his cherished home.

Nile found himself positioned adjacent to the ornate window of the elegantly crafted carriage. As the vehicle commenced its departure, he trained his gaze upon his beloved wife, her figure becoming smaller and smaller until it dissolved into the distant vanishing point on the horizon. With a stoic countenance firmly in place, Nile directed his attention forward, anticipating that the forthcoming day would unfold in a manner that mirrored the monotony of every other ordinary day.

As the carriage slowly made its way toward the Headquarters of the Military Police, a sense of foreboding hung heavily in the air. Commander Nile immediately sensed that something was awry. Peering through the window of his carriage, his gaze fell upon a chaotic and unsettling scene unfolding before him.

The once orderly and disciplined courtyard was now a flurry of activity as soldiers hurriedly scurried in every direction. Their faces, usually stern and composed, were now marked with an unusual combination of coldness and perspiration. Commander Nile knew deep within his core that this was no ordinary day. Something was undeniably wrong, and as his gaze swept across the frantic chaos outside, a knot of unease tightened in his stomach. The last time the Headquarters of the Military Police had been in such a mess was when Wall Maria fell...

Commander Nile's heart raced within his chest as he sat on his seat, his eyes fixed on the soldiers. A sense of unease swept over him, causing a lump to form in his throat. Beads of cold sweat trickled down his furrowed brow like tiny rivulets of fear. With bated breath, he desperately hoped that his instincts were misguided. Yet, as his gaze met the stern countenances of the soldiers under his command, their eyes reflecting a mix of apprehension and determination, he realized that his fervent prayers were nothing more than futile wishes.

As the carriage came to a halt, its wheels screeching against the rugged dirt road, a cloud of dust billowed up, enveloping the imposing gates of the Military Police Headquarters. The iron wheels, relentless in their path, mercilessly crushed the small rocks scattered along the way. Commander Nile, feeling the weight of responsibility upon his shoulders, swiftly brushed the beads of sweat from his forehead, his hand trembling ever so slightly. With a determined composure, he cleared his throat, the sound reverberating in the tense atmosphere as he strived to maintain an unwavering stoicism that masked the tumultuous thoughts swirling within.

With an air of authority, Commander Nile swung open the heavy door of his carriage, revealing a trio of military police soldiers standing at attention nearby. Each one, impeccably dressed in their pristine uniforms, promptly snapped into a crisp salute as their commander emerged.

Among them, a stern-faced soldier clutched a stack of three pages, seemingly holding a trove of crucial information. Radiating a commanding presence, Commander Nile descended from the carriage, casting a piercing gaze upon the soldiers before gesturing for them to fall in line behind him. With a determined stride, he led the way, his entourage of soldiers faithfully trailing behind.

"What is happening? Why does everyone seem to be in a hurry?" Nile questioned with a commanding voice as a soldier opened the door for him. As Nile stepped inside, the three soldiers who had been trailing him closely entered behind, their footsteps falling in sync like an unwavering march. Among them, a young soldier nervously clutched three papers in his trembling hand, his fear palpable in the way he struggled to maintain composure. Normally, Nile would have reprimanded the soldier for such visible unease, but before he could utter a word, the soldier's voice quivered as he spoke, causing Nile to pause in his tracks, his curiosity piqued.

With a tremor in his voice, the soldier cleared his throat, bearing crucial tidings that sent a chill down his spine. "Commander Nile," he began, his words laced with urgency, "we have received information that the Colossal Titan has appeared and destroyed the gate of The City of Trost," A flicker of astonishment momentarily danced in Nile's eyes, a testament to the magnitude of the calamity that had befallen them.

Yet, as a seasoned commander, Nile swiftly regained his stoic composure, the weight of his leadership guiding him to conceal any trace of emotion. Determined and resolute, he strode purposefully towards his officers, his footsteps resonating in synchronized harmony with the symphony of anxiety that reverberated through the fortress walls, akin to the piercing toll of alarm bells, signaling the imminent arrival of a harrowing trial.

In the sprawling expanse of the headquarters, a regiment of tenacious soldiers marched with purpose, their footsteps resounding against the walls. Adorned in their battle-worn uniforms, they skillfully maneuvered through the labyrinthine corridors, their burdened arms embracing the weight of large boxes brimming with indispensable military provisions. Among these boxes were meticulously stacked supplies, ranging from ammunition that promised unwavering firepower to pistols. Gleaming swords. And as their synchronized footsteps reverberated against the ceramic floor, a symphony of determination filled the air.

"What about Wall Rose?" Nile quickly questioned, keeping a stoic voice, his voice high and firm; Nile didn't allow himself to show concern, despite knowing his family was inside the territory between Wall Rose and Wall Sina.

With beads of perspiration rolling down his forehead like tiny tributaries on a map, the soldier, his expression as pale as freshly fallen snow, anxiously relayed the uncertain state of affairs to his companion. "Not sure yet, we are expecting the arrival of the Armoured Titan, but as I said, we haven't received the news yet," As the soldier's trembling hands flipped through the pages of a worn-out journal, their fingers danced across the faded ink.

Nile cursed under his breath. The thought of Wall Rose falling filled him with a sense of dread; suddenly, he imagined the worst. In a single heartbeat, his mind conjured a vivid tapestry of nightmarish images, a twisted fantasy that evoked sheer terror within him. He could almost taste the palpable fear as he envisioned his cherished home, now ravaged by the relentless onslaught of towering Titans. Dread clutched at his heart as he witnessed the harrowing scene unfold before his very eyes: Maria and his daughters, their piercing screams echoing in his ears, pleading for his intervention as they were mercilessly devoured, one by one. Helpless and paralyzed, he could only stand there, consumed by terror, forced to bear witness to their inevitable demise.

As Nile ascended the staircase, a sense of trepidation slowly crept up on him, causing his throat to parch and his heart to race. The expansive expanse of the Military Police Headquarters unfurled before him. Every nook and cranny buzzed with a symphony of commotion; soldiers darted to and fro, diligently executing their duties while the weight of responsibility hung heavy in the air.

Amidst the organized chaos, a myriad of emotions danced across the faces of the soldiers; some wore expressions of fear, their eyes darting anxiously, while others meticulously inspected their supplies, a silent testament to their unwavering dedication to safeguarding the fortress-like structure. In the midst of this bustling tapestry, Nile's gaze caught a glimpse of a young female soldier, her tear-stained face tucked away in a secluded corner, her complexion as pallid as a ghostly apparition.

Just as he was about to signal the waiter to bring him the same, a wave of recollection swept over him like a gust of wind. At that moment, a realization struck Nile's mind like lightning - the soldier had never mentioned a single word about the Survey Corps. A flicker of doubt danced in his eyes, causing him to pause and question the motives of his old friend. Nile's heart, however, remained steadfast in its conviction that his companion was far from the realm of concealment. After all, a person of such unwavering bravery and resilience would never cower in fear.

"What about the Survey Corps? They're the best when it comes to fighting Titans. Where are they?" Commander Nile demanded from the soldier behind him as Nile reached the door that led to his office.

"Sir, the Colossal Titan appeared an hour after The Scouting Regiment left Wall Rose in an expedition," the soldier informed him with a grave voice, Nile cursed under his breath once again, but by now, he was sure his old friend was already informed of the incident, and was already engaging with the Titans. Nile felt a wave of relief in his body, knowing Erwin had the best Titan Slaying soldiers. His shoulders slumped down, feeling he could breathe easier, knowing the likes of Captain Levi and Mike Zacharias were there fighting Titans; both were in a league of their own.

Nile had once been ordered by the king himself to try and recruit Captain Levi into the Military Police, even offering him the position of Squad Leader right away. Still, Levi had told Nile to shove the offer in his ass; back then, Nile had felt humiliated, but right now, Nile was relieved knowing Levi was in the Survey Corps instead of the Military Police.

With an air of authority and a somber tone, Nile issued his command, his voice echoing through the corridors of the military headquarters. "Very well," he began, his eyes scanning the room, "tell everyone to be prepared. If Wall Rose falls, this will be Humanity's last defense," The weight of his words settled heavily upon the shoulders of the soldiers, their faces draining of color as the gravity of the situation sank in.

But Nile, resolute and undeterred, paid no mind to their visible trepidation. Instead, he turned his back on the fearful faces and pushed open the heavy oak door to his office. Stepping inside, he was instantly enveloped by a sense of calm, as if the chaos and uncertainty of the outside World were momentarily shut out. At that moment, his office transformed into a sanctuary, a refuge where he could momentarily escape the looming threat that plagued humanity.

As soon as the heavy wooden door clicked shut behind him, Nile wasted no time in making his way to a large bottle. With nimble hands, he reached for a crystal-clear glass and carefully filled it to the brim with icy-cold water.

The condensation on the glass created a refreshing mist that instantly beckoned Nile to take a long, satisfying gulp. The cool liquid coursed through his parched throat, soothing the tension that had built up within him. Gradually, a sense of tranquility washed over him, allowing his mind to clear and thoughts to crystallize.

Emboldened by the newfound clarity, Nile refilled his glass, savoring the delicate sound of water dancing against the glass. He then proceeded to navigate the labyrinth of his cluttered office, finally settling into the plush leather chair that awaited him behind his grand mahogany desk.

As he gingerly placed the glass down, it joined a symphony of other objects already adorning the expansive workspace. Among them, an imposing mountain of papers towered. With a sigh, he knew that he needed to deal with the papers.

Once Nile sat down, he started working and patiently waiting for news to arrive from Wall Rose; sometimes he wished they had a way to communicate with people who were far away and not wait hours for new information to arrive, but after two hours of waiting with dread, new information arrived. It wasn't what Nile had expected.

Nile always saw himself as a man of logic, someone who always used his brain to make decisions. When he received the news that the Gate of Trost had been destroyed, he believed that the best-case scenario would be only the City of Trost falling to the Titans, yet Nile was never that optimistic. He had been ready to order his men to lead the refugees of Wall Rose to Wall Sina whenever they received word that Wall Rose had fallen; that's what Nile had expected to happen.

Yet, the words he received from his soldiers made no sense. He read the report more than four times over, yet Commander Nile still couldn't make sense of what he was reading. As far as he knew, Titans never fought with other Titans. All they cared about was eating humans, yet the report he was reading mentioned a Titan fighting other Titans and even saving poor cadets.

Another report talked about someone being able to turn into a Titan. That was the part that made the least amount of sense. Nile wondered if the people giving these reports were drunk, but there wasn't just one report talking about the same thing; there were hundreds of them, all talking about someone being able to turn into a Titan and fight other Titans.

But, three hours later was when all hell broke loose in the Headquarters of the Military Police; Nile received reports about many people turning into Titans, reports about a Titan sealing the hole in the Wall with a giant boulder, and the most important part. The Armoured Titan and The Colossal Titan had attacked again, but they were able to defeat them with help from people who could also become Titans. A report talked about a Female Titan. Another one talked about a Jumping Titan with an ugly face.

Commander Nile's eyes scanned the reports. His brows furrowed in disbelief as he devoured every word on the crisp, ink-stained pages. The weight of confusion settled in his mind. Commander Nile read and reread the reports, yet he still couldn't believe them. What he read made no sense. What is going on in Trost? I need to speak with Zachary, Pyxis, and Erwin. I need to understand what is going on and what we all need to do, Nile thought, standing up from his seat in haste, his chair almost falling on the floor below.

In the bustling headquarters, the resounding echoes of marching footsteps filled the air as a legion of nearly a hundred soldiers paced restlessly. Nile gracefully strode towards the door, his anticipation building with each step. With a commanding presence, Nile swiftly issued orders to an attentive subordinate, instructing them to arrange a meeting with Zachary.

With a sense of urgency gnawing at his thoughts, Nile hastened into the opulent carriage, his mind racing to comprehend the enigmatic events unfolding before him. As the elegant vehicle gracefully glided away from the headquarters, Nile couldn't help but feel that Erwin already knew everything. He didn't know why, but he had a gut feeling that his old friend already knew exactly what was happening.

Jean Kirstein

After the defeat of the Colossal and the Armoured Titan, they were commanded to stand guard before the towering gates that served as the gateway to the City of Trost, awaiting further instructions.

As they stood steadfast, their hearts pounding with a mixture of weariness and adrenaline, the cannons perched atop the sturdy walls relentlessly unleashed their fiery projectiles upon the horde of Titans lurking below. Each resounding boom echoed through the air, punctuated by the thunderous roars of the Titans.

Hour after grueling hour passed, the cadets battling fatigue and doubt, their determination unwavering. Finally, as the sun began its descent into the horizon, a collective sigh of relief swept through the weary ranks of the cadets. The once formidable Titans now lay lifeless, vanquished by their unwavering resolve and the thunderous might of the cannons. A sense of triumph washed over them, knowing that their unwavering courage had ensured the safety of the City of Trost, even if it had taken a grueling six hours to achieve.

During that time, Jean found himself plagued by an overwhelming weariness that gnawed at his every fiber. Commander Pyxis, his voice resonating with a rare blend of authority and compassion, had implored them to seize an opportunity for respite, to replenish their waning vitality through rest.

Yet, sleep had eluded Jean as if the weight of impending responsibility pressed upon his eyelids, rendering them incapable of surrendering to slumber's embrace. After all the Titans were killed, their mission was clear: to cleanse the city of any lingering Titans.

Jean knew that wasn't what they would do. He doubted there were any Titans left in Trost. They even had Ymir turn into a Titan and check the city twice for any Titan that could be hiding somewhere. He knew she had already killed most of the Titans left inside the city.

Jean knew the purpose of their expedition was not merely to search for remnants of the Titans that once wreaked havoc but rather to undertake the somber duty of gathering the lifeless remnants left in their wake. It was a task that could span the breadth of a solitary day or extend into the span of an entire, haunting week. Jean's heart sank at the thought of having to collect the deceased bodies, a task that no one would eagerly anticipate. Yet, deep within his being, he recognized the unwavering importance of following his orders, knowing that disobedience was a luxury he could ill afford.

As Jean waited eagerly for his next order to arrive, the minutes stretched into an agonizing eternity. With each passing moment, he found himself sinking deeper into the plush cushion of his chair as if it had melded with his very being.

As the weight of today's events pressed upon Jean's mind, he found himself lost in a swirling whirlwind of thoughts, desperately attempting to make sense of it all. In the midst of this mental turmoil, Marco and Floch provided a comforting presence, seated beside him at a weathered wooden table. Meanwhile, scattered across the room, the remaining Cadets had formed their own pockets of companionship, each group huddled around their respective tables. The atmosphere was alive with a symphony of voices; some engaged in animated conversations while others were trying to eat something. Amidst this lively chaos, the exhaustion of the day's trials began to take its toll, with a few weary souls succumbing to the embrace of slumber, their heads finding solace upon the comforting shoulders of their comrades.

Jean looked around, and the ones that he had wanted to be near them weren't there. He had wanted to ask Eren quite a lot of questions, and he knew Mikasa and Armin would have the answers; sadly, an hour after, Eren left to go somewhere. A scout approached the cadets before telling Mikasa, Armin, and Krista to follow him.

After Ymir had done her job, even she had been sent away, leaving the Cadets without answers, only speculation.

As Jean sat at his table, a sudden commotion interrupted the silence. Amidst the gentle hum of conversations, a cacophony of snores pierced the air, drawing his attention. Curiosity piqued, he turned his gaze to the left, only to witness a peculiar sight that both amused and bewildered him.

There, nestled side by side, lay Sasha and Connie, slumbering blissfully like two contented pigs, their faces pressed against the worn wooden table, using it as a makeshift pillow. Sasha, in particular, appeared to have fully embraced the realm of dreams, her mouth agape in an unabashed display, with delicate droplets of drool glistening at the corner of her lips.

Jean couldn't really blame them for sleeping. He himself was beyond exhausted; he wanted nothing more but to rest, to let his eyes close and sleep until he was well rested, but his mind was full of thoughts that he couldn't remove from his mind despite how hard he tried.

And no matter how hard he tried, their faces wouldn't go away, their faces, their smiles, their words; Jean clenched his teeth in anger, disappointment, guilt, betrayal. Jean wasn't sure what he was feeling at this point, but he knew he wanted to hit something.

"Jean, if you want to become a Military Police, you need to take things more seriously," 

Jean remembered Reiner's words, his cheerful smile, and the way he would try to encourage everyone. Jean remembered everyone calling him the 'big brother' of the cadets. Yet, every time Jean remembered his face, he couldn't help but remember the Armoured Titan's face. The same Titan that had destroyed the gates of Wall Maria and had caused the deaths of a quarter of the Humanity left in the World.

Jean, his brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and frustration, pondered the perplexing question that had been plaguing his mind incessantly: "What the hell was he thinking when he was amongst us for three years??" Anger surged through Jean's veins, causing his teeth to clench tightly together and his hands to instinctively cover his ears as if shielding himself from the piercing cacophony of voices that seemed to invade his very soul. The relentless chatter of the surrounding multitude bore down upon him like a relentless hammer striking against an anvil, each reverberating blow intensifying the already throbbing ache in his head as if the pain itself held a malicious intention to torment him further with every passing second.

"Ahh, Thank you, Jean. I really appreciate it." Jean remembered Bertholdt's words. His teeth clenched even harder. It was hard to imagine him as the Colossal Titan, yet he knew what he had seen; Jean knew Bertholdt was a Traitor to Humanity, someone who had destroyed the gates of Shiganshina and Trost.

Someone who had laughed alongside them, who had eaten with them, yet he was the same person who was planning on killing them without a second thought; Jean felt his anger growing at the thought of Bertholdt.

What did he think when Eren told everyone his mother was killed in front of him? Jean thought, closing his eyes, yet all he could see were the people he considered friends, the people he had relied on, and now, those same friends were the ones that destroyed Wall Maria and destroyed the gate of the City of Trost.

Jean was so deep in thought that Jean remained oblivious to the persistent calls of his companions until the gentle nudge from Marco abruptly jolted him back to reality, causing him to abruptly abandon the intricate web of his thoughts. Startled, he swiftly shifted his gaze to the left, only to find the perplexed stares of both Marco and Floch fixed upon him, their eyes brimming with a peculiar blend of curiosity and concern.

A surge of frustration surged through his veins, causing his vocal cords to involuntarily amplify his response as he barked out with an unintentionally heightened pitch, "What?!" The unmistakable undertones of anger and annoyance resonated in every syllable.

"Jean, we know you're frustrated-" As Marco began to address Jean's frustrations, his words were abruptly cut off by the unexpected sound of Jean's bitter laughter resonating through the air, followed by the forceful slap of his hand against the worn, weathered surface of the wooden table that separated them.

"Oh really, how did you figure that out, Marco?" Jean questioned sarcastically. He didn't understand why he was letting out his frustration on Marco, but after everything that had happened, he just wanted to let out everything he felt, and Marco was the unlucky one to receive his wrath.

"We know how you feel, Jean. We all are thinking about the same thing," Floch stepped into the conversation while pointing at every other cadet who was still awake. All of them were in deep thought. None of them were touching their food. It seemed after everything that had happened. No one was hungry.

Jean's countenance transformed into an unmistakable expression of shame, radiating waves of remorse that reached Marco's perceptive eyes. It was as if Jean's very soul was pleading for forgiveness, silently conveying an apology through the depths of their gaze. Yet, this remorseful display was merely a fraction of the turmoil that raged within Jean's troubled mind.

"I-I just don't understand anything anymore," Jean's voice echoed in the room, its timbre laced with confusion and frustration. The words tumbled out, unfiltered and raw, revealing the depths of Jean's inner turmoil. Jean's clenched fist collided with the solid surface of the wooden table.

The impact reverberated through the air, creating a cacophony of sound that sliced through the tranquil atmosphere. The sudden noise shattered the serene ambiance, catching the attention of unsuspecting cadets who were momentarily caught off guard, their gazes darting towards the source of the disturbance.

"Reiner, Bertholdt. They were our friends for three years. We laughed and shared our dreams together. Yet, they are the same who..." his voice trailed off into an eerie silence; his gaze fixated on a lone cadet seated at a nearby table. It was evident that anguish had consumed the young soldier, his tear-stained face pale as freshly fallen snow. His beloved sister had been eaten by a Titan, leaving him with bloodshot eyes from inconsolable weeping.

Many cadets flinched when Reiner and Bertholdt were brought up. Many still couldn't believe they were traitors; many were still thinking all of this was just a big misunderstanding. However, amid the murmurs and doubts, one voice cut through the uncertainty like a sharp blade. It belonged to Floch. With unwavering determination, he spoke out boldly, his words resonating with the air.

"They were never our friends, Jean," Floch said out loud, loud enough for every cadet to hear; many turned their attention to Floch.

"Floch, we can discuss this later." Marco tried to reason, but Floch shook his head dismissively as if to say that there was nothing to discuss, his eyes looking at everyone else before they settled on Marco.

As the tension filled the air, Floch's voice cut through the silence, piercing the stillness of the room. "Tell me, Marco," he began. "Tina, Akani, Armer, Liaia, Lanesra, Thomas, Tom, Gordon, Sandra, Marlene," he continued, each name rolling off his tongue with purpose and significance.

"Eeric, Waller, Alfred, Arthur, Tell me what these names mean to you. To All of You?" Floch's voice grew louder, reaching its crescendo as he shouted the last part, his words echoing off the walls for everyone to hear. The sudden outburst startled many cadets from their slumber, their eyes wide with confusion and alarm. Yet, for those who were already awake, a profound sadness settled over them as if a wave of melancholy had washed over their souls. The mere mention of those names had stirred something deep within, evoking memories and emotions that were both painful and tender. Tears welled up in their eyes.

With a heavy heart and a gaze fixated on the ground, Marco's eyes filled with a sense of shame that seemed to consume him. Sensing his friend's distress, Jean reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Marco's trembling shoulder, offering solace in their unspoken connection.

However, Jean's attention quickly shifted, and his eyes locked fiercely with Floch's, a piercing glare that conveyed a mix of frustration and defiance.

"Floch, we get it-" "No, You Don't," Floch erupted, his voice booming with an unexpected intensity, cutting through the air like thunder. Locking eyes with Jean, Floch's expression revealed a tumultuous blend of anger, pity, and understanding. Everyone present stood witness to this charged exchange, their tear-filled eyes reflecting the weight of the moment.

"Those people. They Were our friends. Our companies, they had their own dreams, their own families waiting for them back home, they had their lives they all wanted to live, and Now. They are all dead because of Bertholdt and Reiner!" Floch's voice, fueled by a potent mix of sorrow and righteous fury, rose with each syllable that escaped his lips, his words cutting through the silence like shards of glass. The place fell into an eerie stillness, all eyes fixed upon him, each person silently absorbing the gravity of his words, their hearts heavy with the weight of loss and the burning desire for justice.

With a trembling voice and a gulp that betrayed his fear, Floch leaned in closer, his eyes searching the faces of his companions. "And do you know what they all felt," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the wind, "moments before their death?" As the words hung in the air, Floch couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine, his face paling slightly as he relived the horrifying encounter with the Titan that had almost devoured him. The memory, still vivid and haunting, refused to let him forget the sheer terror he had experienced.

Casting his gaze upon the assembled crowd, Floch's voice faintly murmured, "Fear!" the weight of his words resonating with the gravity of his emotions—anger, fear, and sorrow intertwining like a tangled web. Though his utterance was soft-spoken, every cadet present absorbed his sentiments, witnessing the vulnerable reactions that followed, some clutching their legs in a feeble attempt to safeguard themselves.

"They all felt Fear. They all begged for someone to save them until they were eaten alive. All because of Reiner and Bertholdt." The words of Floch, delivered in a hushed and barely audible tone, pierced through the stillness yet managed to resonate deeply within each cadet present. A palpable surge of anger surged within, finding solace in the silent nods of agreement that rippled through the crowd as if a dormant volcano of emotions was awakening.

"What about Eren, Ymir, and Annie?" they questioned, their tone tinged with a mixture of skepticism and hope. The gaze of everyone shifted towards Floch, their faces reflecting a complex blend of curiosity, fear, and longing for reassurance. Floch's countenance, usually shrouded in a somber demeanor, caught a glimmer of light as his features softened ever so slightly, a subtle transformation that did not go unnoticed. At that moment, he mustered the strength to summon a smile, a display of unexpected warmth that sent ripples of surprise through the gathered crowd. Even Jean couldn't help but wonder what had transpired to prompt such an unusual reaction from Floch, especially after everything that had happened.

"I know many of you are still not sure what to think about Eren Yeager, but..." Floch stopped talking, making sure everyone was listening to him. He could see every cadet and even Garrison soldiers nearby were paying attention to him.

With an authoritative voice that echoed through the air, Floch, his unwavering resolve shining in his eyes, passionately addressed the gathered crowd, "I want you all to remember who was the one that saved us in Trost."

As his words reverberated, a ripple of acknowledgment coursed through the crowd, a collective nodding of heads affirming his sentiment. In response, the somber atmosphere that had enveloped them began to dissipate, replaced by a newfound determination that manifested as subtle smiles slowly gracing the faces of many as if the weight of mourning had been momentarily lifted.

As Floch's voice echoed through the air, the question hung in the air, drawing the attention of every cadet present: "Who was the one that sealed Trost?" His words reverberated with intensity and conviction, leaving no doubt as to the answer. Without missing a beat, he declared, "Eren, that's who!" The room erupted in a chorus of 'Aye,' a resounding affirmation that reverberated through the hearts of many. Some cadets, caught up in the fervor, rose from their seats, their expressions transformed with unwavering confidence. The atmosphere, once laden with somberness, now blossomed into a vibrant tapestry of jubilation and unwavering determination. Even from a distance, Rico and Ian couldn't help but be captivated by the remarkable shift, observing how the weight of the grave had been cast aside, replaced by an air of cheerfulness and resolute purpose.

"Remember who defeated The Armoured Titan, and The Colossal Titan, remember who warned all of us to run from the Colossal Titan, who protected us with his own body against the Colossal Titan's explosion," Floch shouted, earning an even louder 'Aye' from the majority of his fellow cadets, many of them were standing up just like Floch, their faces one of determination and newfound confidence.

"Who is the one that gave us all a Chance?"

"Eren Yeager!!!" The echoes of his name reverberated through the vast expanse, soaring higher and higher, reaching beyond the towering walls and piercing the very fabric of the boundless blue sky above, a testament to the indomitable spirit that had ignited hope in the hearts of all.

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