Chapter Text
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MARLEY
INTERNMENT ZONE
845
"You’re going with them to that devil’s island," Willy Tybur said. His tone was calm, almost indifferent, as if he were assigning a servant a task rather than sending his own flesh and blood to war.
You froze. "But Father, I didn’t inherit a Titan," you said, gripping the fabric of your uniform.
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Well, if only you had done better, perhaps you would have." His voice was still steady, but there was a bite to it now—a disappointment so deeply ingrained that he barely needed to say it aloud.
Your stomach twisted.
"And I told you—don’t call me Father," he added coldly. "It’s Mr. Tybur."
There it was. The reminder of your place in his world. A mistake he wished he could erase.
You swallowed hard.
A reminder of his mistake.
That was all you had ever been. A stain on his name. A consequence he refused to acknowledge.
You had always known it, of course—felt it in the silence at the dinner table, in the way his gaze barely lingered on you. When your mother died, he hadn’t even spared you a moment of grief. No words of comfort, no time to mourn. Instead, he sent you away. To train, to fight, to serve. Because that was all you were good for. A tool. A means to an end.
"I’ve trained you to be like the others," he continued, unbothered by your silence. "You’ll join Reiner, Marcel, Annie, and Bertholdt. They have their roles. You have yours. Do what is required."
There was no anger in his voice. No cruelty. Just indifference, which was far worse.
Your fists clenched.
"But I don’t have a Titan power," you argued, a bitter edge creeping into your voice. "I’ll just be a burden to them."
His expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes—impatience, irritation.
"It doesn’t matter," he repeated, but his voice had lost its earlier steadiness. It was colder now, sharper. "You’ll serve the cause, just like the rest."
"But I—"
His hand slammed down on the desk, the sound cracking through the room like a whip.
"Enough," he snapped.
You flinched.
Willy Tybur rarely raised his voice. He didn’t need to. His presence alone was enough to command a room. But now, for the first time, you saw something close to frustration in his expression.
"You don’t have a choice," he said, voice low but burning with something rawer than before. "You will go. You will fight. And you will die there if necessary."
He exhaled sharply, as if he had finally abandoned all pretense. "Frankly, it would be easier if you did."
The words hit harder than any slap could have.
He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.
You weren’t being sent as a soldier. You were being discarded.
A silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating.
Then, as if he hadn’t just condemned you, he turned away, looking out the window.
"Leave. You depart tomorrow."
Your feet felt heavy as you stepped back, but before you could even reach the door, he spoke again.
"Don’t come back."
It wasn’t a threat. It wasn’t even an order.
It was a fact.
And when you walked out of that room, you knew…
He had already written you off as dead.
MARLEY
LIBERIO PORT
The ship's walls groaned as the engines rumbled to life. From where you sat, you could hear the bustle from outside — the loud cheers and clapping, the sound of boots marching across the dock, the voices bidding farewell to the warriors who were to leave for Paradis.
It was strange, how they were being sent off like heroes. You could imagine their faces—Reiner, Annie, Bertholdt, Marcel—people who had purpose, people who had power. People who mattered. You wondered if anyone would even notice you were gone when the ship sailed.
You remained hidden below deck, tucked away from their eyes, a shadow in the midst of their farewell. Willy Tybur had made sure to have someone escort you on board before the others, to keep you out of view. No one was meant to see you board with the warriors. Only the ship crews knew you were here, and even they barely gave you a second glance. You bet even Reiner and the others didn’t even know you were here.
The sounds of the port grew faint as the ship slowly pulled away from the harbor. The cheers began to fade, replaced by the soft lull of the waves slapping against the hull. A heavy silence settled in the small, dimly lit room you occupied. You leaned back against the cold wall, your knees pulled to your chest, and tried to ignore the sickening knot in your stomach.
They had their mission, their purpose. You had nothing. You weren't a warrior. You weren’t even a sacrifice. You were just... there.
It didn’t matter if you lived or died. No one would care. You would just be another name, another ghost lost to the past.
And the idea of that, the thought of being completely forgotten, was almost worse than death itself.
If only your mother was here…
You wouldn’t be this scared.
✦
As you stepped onto the deck, the man who had escorted you earlier remained at your side. His presence drew the immediate attention of Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, and Marcel. Their hushed conversation faltered, eyes flicking over to you, the sudden appearance unsettling them.
Marcel, always the first to voice his thoughts, spoke with confusion.
"You... what are you doing here?"
Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie exchanged puzzled glances, their eyes scanning you in disbelief. You were no stranger to them—you trained together for years. You were one of the warrior candidates, but you weren’t considered strong enough to inherit a Titan.
Before you could answer, the man beside you spoke in his calm, authoritative voice.
“Willy Tybur sent her as a representative of the Tybur family for this mission.”
The mention of the Tybur name caught them off guard, and they stiffened, surprised.
“Tybur?” Marcel echoed, his voice disbelieving. "You're... a Tybur?"
You didn’t respond. You couldn’t bring yourself to. Instead, you kept your gaze fixed forward.
Reiner’s voice broke through the silence, his tone sharp with confusion.
"You've been with us all this time... and you never said anything?"
Still, you didn’t reply. Your expression remained neutral, indifferent. The man beside you seemed to notice their frustration and spoke up again, his voice cutting through the tension. “She had no reason to. Willy Tybur didn’t want anyone to know.”
“Why would he hide that from us?” Annie’s eyes narrowed, her gaze moving from you to the man, her suspicion growing.
“It’s none of your business,” the man replied, his tone growing colder. “Now, accept her as part of your team. She will be with you on this mission.” He paused, his eyes glinting with a finality that made the group shift uneasily. “Do not question it.”
Without waiting for a response, the man left, exiting the room and leaving you alone with the four Titan shifters.
“If you’re a Tybur, that means you inherited the War Hammer Titan, right?” Marcel asked, his tone curious but cautious.
The title hung heavy in the air—Tybur. A name that carried centuries of prestige and power, the family bound to the War Hammer Titan for generations, a legacy rooted in the very foundation of Marley’s strength.
You felt their eyes on you, waiting for confirmation, as though your presence alone carried the weight of that inheritance. The War Hammer Titan, passed down through your bloodline for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years.
“No.”
Your answer was simple, clipped. You didn’t offer more, though Marcel’s furrowed brow betrayed his confusion. What reason would a Tybur have for being here, if not to wield the very power your family was known for?
An awkward silence followed. Reiner’s eyes flickered between you and the others, brow furrowed in concern.
“Then… how are you even going to survive in a world full of roaming, mindless Titans?” he asked, “How do you expect to last a day on Paradis without a Titan ability?”
You could feel their concern, and though it should have been reassuring, it only made you feel more isolated. They knew you were strong... but not like them. You didn’t have the power of a Titan.
You met Reiner's gaze and offered a stiff shrug.
“You don’t have to concern yourselves with that. I’ll try to survive. I won’t be a burden.” Your voice was firm, but there was a hollowness in your tone that you couldn’t suppress. “Even without a Titan ability.”
“Still... why did you accept this mission? This is... basically suicide.” Bertholdt’s voice broke through the stillness, quieter but with an edge of disbelief.
You turned to him then, locking eyes with the quiet, introspective warrior. Your gaze was as cold as the ocean wind, distant, like you were looking through them rather than at them.
“I’m here because I was sent,” you replied, your voice low and empty. “Not because I have a choice.”
Another silence followed, one that carried an uncomfortable realization: they would go to Paradis with a purpose, with power, but you would go there only as a shadow of your father’s decisions.
To erase the remnants of his mistakes, his past, his infidelity, his very existence tied to you—was for you to die.
Honorably?
Maybe, just maybe, he still had a sliver of heart left, a lingering sense of duty that allowed him to send you here. To let you die fighting, to preserve some semblance of honor. It was the only way he could keep the family’s name from being tainted any further by his decisions. If you died fighting, at least you wouldn’t bring shame to the Tybur name.
The thought stung more than you expected. But it was the truth. Your life had never been yours to control, not since the day you were born. And now, as the ship set sail toward Paradis, it was becoming all too clear that it would never be.
As the group processed your words, their gazes drifting away from you, the room felt colder.
This was a mission, yes, but for you, it was a sentence.
A death sentence, masked as duty.
PARADIS
OUTSIDE THE WALLS
The journey to the wall was grueling, each step heavy with the weight of what awaited beyond it. The walls loomed in the distance like silent giants, their sheer size dwarfing everything around them. Your team walked in tense silence, the air thick with the anticipation of the battle ahead.
Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie kept to themselves, their focus set on the looming threat. Marcel, ever the warrior, was alert, scanning their surroundings with every step.
As you continued walking, the cold weight of your situation settled deeper within you. The strange sense of alienation was hard to ignore. Despite years of training with these people, you weren’t really one of them. They were Warriors, and you were... abandoned.
The sound of marching boots filled the silence until they finally came to a stop. It was time to camp. The sun was setting, casting a cold, red glow over the barren landscape. The wind howled around you, the scent of decay thick in the air.
You all gathered around the campfire, the flickering flames offering a fleeting warmth against the chill of the night. Your gaze shifted away from the fire, wandering to the faces of your comrades. In their eyes, you saw the tension, the fear they tried to mask—an unspoken truth they would never admit, not to each other, and certainly not to you.
“Do you think the King will really refuse to use the Founding Titan’s power, even if we breach the wall?” Bertholdt’s voice was quiet, his gaze fixed on the flames. It wasn’t a question for the group; it was more like a troubled thought he couldn’t keep to himself.
“What’s the point of asking now? Trust Marley’s research,” Reiner responded quickly, brushing off the doubt.
“That’s right. There’s no turning back,” Marcel added, his voice steady but with an edge of uncertainty that none of you missed. His eyes met yours, brow furrowed as determination and hesitation battled in his gaze.
“Tomorrow, we reach the wall… and then…”
Then, we breach it.
Your attention drifted from Marcel to your hands, nervously fidgeting in your lap. It was a reflex you couldn't control when you felt uncertain, anxious… or scared.
People will die. Yes, they were called devils, but…
“What's wrong? Having second thoughts about killing the devils?” Reiner’s voice snapped you from your thoughts, his eyes scanning the group before he stood up. His gaze locked with each of you, as if to remind you of the mission.
“Have you forgotten what they’ve done?” He raised his hand, staring at his palm as if it held the weight of the devils he was meant to punish.
A heavy silence fell over the group, until Marcel’s voice broke through.
“I’m sorry.”
Reiner’s determined expression faltered, replaced by confusion.
“What?”
“Reiner,” Marcel continued, his voice tinged with regret, “I’m sorry. You were never supposed to be chosen as a Warrior.” His words hung in the air, and the shock in his eyes mirrored the disbelief that spread across the rest of you.
“I manipulated things… I talked you up and criticized my brother to sway their decision.”
The revelation stunned you all into silence.
“I just wanted to protect my brother…”
✦
The first light of morning began to creep over the horizon, casting a pale glow across the forest floor. The coolness of the night gave way to a crisp, early-morning chill that still clung to the air. Birds sang in the distance, but there was no peace in your heart.
Marcel stood up, his expression calm despite the gravity of the night. His voice cut through the tense quiet as he commanded the group, “Gather branches. We need to start a fire again.” He turned, his tone firm yet somehow reassuring. Breakfast needed to be made. The journey needed to continue.
Reiner, still in a daze, nodded mechanically. His mind was still reeling, trying to make sense of everything that had happened—the confession, the weight of the mission, and Marcel’s sudden vulnerability. But he followed orders, even if it felt like his body was on autopilot.
The rest of you scattered to gather wood, not too far from Reiner and Bertholdt. Annie and Marcel were near you. None of you truly knowing what to say, what to feel, but the mission was still clear—reach the wall, breach it.
As you worked, the silence between you all was interrupted by the faintest sound—soil cracking, the ground shifting beneath your feet. It was subtle at first, but it grew louder, more distinct.
You heard Bertholdt’s voice, sharp and panicked: “It’s a Titan! Run!”
You turned quickly, eyes wide, and your breath caught in your throat. From the earth, rising like a sleeping giant disturbed, a massive Titan emerged. Its eyes were dull, as though it had just awakened from a long and restless slumber. Its movements were sluggish, and its frame was massive—unmistakably dangerous.
Reiner, still frozen in place, barely reacted. He was too stunned to move, too lost in the confusion of his own thoughts. You took a step toward him, desperate to pull him out of harm’s way, but before you could reach him, Marcel was already there.
In an instant, he pushed Reiner out of the way. Marcel’s eyes met yours, a silent plea in them, as he shoved Reiner toward safety. But before Marcel could step back, the Titan’s hand shot forward.
“Marcel!” you cried out, but it was too late.
In one swift motion, the Titan’s fingers wrapped around Marcel’s body. The world seemed to slow as you watched him struggle for a moment. He had pushed Reiner out of the way, only to be caught himself.
Seconds later, Marcel was in the Titan’s mouth, and the scene unfolded in an instant. His body was swallowed whole, the sickening sound of bone and flesh crunching as the Titan devoured him.
You stood frozen, heart hammering in your chest, the horror of what you had just witnessed sinking in. The Titan, having finished its meal, slowly turned away. It vanished into the shadows of the forest, as if it had never been there at all.
It happened so fast, so cruelly, that it felt unreal. Marcel was gone, devoured in front of you, and all you could do was stand there, stunned and paralyzed.
Then, the silence returned, the forest somehow colder, emptier. You could barely breathe, barely think. Reiner was still in shock, staring at the empty space where Marcel had been just moments before.
If only you were faster than Marcel, if only you had been the one to push Reiner away—then maybe, just maybe, you would’ve been the one to face the Titan’s jaws. You should have been the one to die, to be torn apart by the beast, to be consumed before him.
You dropped to your knees, the weight of guilt crushing your chest.
Why did it have to be Marcel? He was the one with the potential, the one with the strength. But you? You had nothing. It should have been you. It was always supposed to be you.
You had no Titan power, no special ability. Your whole existence was built on the fragile hope that you'd be sent away to die.
If you had died, Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie… they wouldn’t be burdened by the loss of someone who didn’t matter. And Marcel—Marcel wouldn’t have been taken from them. From you.
But as you sat there, the reality of it settled in—Marcel was gone. The Jaw Titan, lost. And here you were, still standing, still breathing, still alive.
Alive when the one who mattered, who was supposed to survive, had been taken.
WALL MARIA
SHIGANSHINA DISTRICT
"Marcel is gone, but the mission doesn’t end here. We continue, no matter the cost. There’s no turning back now.”
The air was thick with the sounds of chaos—shouts of panic echoing through the streets, the screams of civilians running for their lives. Crumbling buildings and debris littered the once-pristine streets. The distant rumble of Titans growled, shaking the earth with each massive step. Their grotesque forms loomed in the shadows, prowling the streets inside the wall, the result of Bertholdt breaching the gate.
You moved, your steps echoing in the eerie quiet of the ruins. The sounds of battle, the crumbling of the city, and the horrific roars of Titans in the distance seemed like a distant world, a reminder of the terrifying reality you now found yourself in.
Annie kept her pace steady ahead of you, her expression as stoic as ever, though you could see the faintest hint of something lurking behind her eyes. For all the preparation, for all the training—no one could ever truly be prepared for this. The chaos, the violence... it was too much... too much. Still, you pushed those thoughts away as best as you could. There was no time for hesitation now.
When you reached the agreed-upon meeting spot—a collapsed building near the outskirts of the city, away from the thick of the battle—you saw Reiner and Bertholdt standing nearby, their figures half-hidden behind the wreckage. They looked up as Annie approached, and then you followed.
Reiner’s gaze met yours, but there was no comfort in it—only the hard, unyielding expression of someone who had long accepted his role in all of this.
He didn’t need to say more. You all knew what the next step was. The city’s been breached, the Titans were already within, and now it was a matter of moving forward with the plan. The civilians, disoriented and scared, would be your best cover.
The sounds of chaos outside the ruined building grew louder. The ground trembled beneath your feet as Titans continued their rampage, and you could hear people screaming in terror, trying to flee from the Titans, only to meet their end as the colossal beasts stomped through the streets.
Bertholdt looked distant, his eyes wide and glassy, as if the magnitude of the destruction had begun to settle in. He wasn’t cut out for this kind of violence, not in the same way Reiner was. But he, too, knew that the mission had to be completed.
Annie didn’t say much, her gaze fixed on the distance, as if waiting for something—a signal, maybe, or a decision from Reiner.
And you… you had no choice. No choice but to follow the mission. To follow Willy Tybur’s expectations, to fall in line with Reiner’s commands, and to bury your personal fears.
Reiner’s eyes flicked toward the crowd gathering in the distance.
“We need to move,” he said, stepping forward, his voice firm, authoritative. "Stay in the shadows. Keep out of sight until it's time."
And with that, you all vanished into the chaos, seamlessly blending into the panicked crowd. Wall Maria was breached, and the horrors that followed were yours to bear. The lives lost, the destruction caused—there was really no turning back now.