The noise rippled across Shiganshina District, sharp and urgent, like an unspoken warning. People stumbled onto the streets, their faces tense, their voices rising in confusion.
Then—a tremor. Faint, almost undetectable, but enough to send a ripple of unease through the crowd.
Someone turned toward the Wall. Another clutched their child's hand tighter.
And then, cutting through the uncertainty, a voice rang out—sharp, breathless, desperate.
"They're coming!"
---
"The Survey Corps is coming!!" someone shouted.
From the crowd, voices erupted.
"The front gate is opening!"
Eren's eyes widened. His frustration melted into excitement.
"The heroes are back!"
Without hesitation, he grabbed Mikasa's hand and bolted toward the main road.
But when they arrived, a dense crowd had already gathered, pressing against each other to get a glimpse of the returning soldiers.
"Shit, I can't see with all these people!" Eren muttered.
Without hesitation, he spotted an old wooden crate nearby and climbed onto it, balancing himself to get a clearer view.
And then—his breath caught in his throat.
The Survey Corps had returned. But it was nothing like what he had imagined.
There were no cheers. No prideful soldiers standing tall in victory.
Instead, the men on horseback were silent, their faces downcast. Their uniforms were torn, hands wrapped in blood-soaked bandages, their bodies slumped over their horses like lifeless dolls. Some soldiers weren't even riding—they were being dragged on makeshift stretchers behind the horses, their bodies barely clinging to life.
The crowd murmured in hushed whispers, but no one dared to celebrate.
A fat, bald man standing beside Eren let out a scoff. "Are these the only ones who made it back?"
From within the crowd, another voice muttered grimly. "Looks like another massacre this time… Even though they sent out over a hundred soldiers."
"There are less than twenty people here… Did the rest get eaten?..."
The weight of the reality crushed down on them.
Then suddenly, a desperate cry shattered the uneasy silence.
"Barun!! BARUN!!"
A middle-aged woman—her face lined with worry—shoved through the crowd, pushing past onlookers as she ran toward the Survey Corps commander. She nearly stumbled as she dropped to her knees in front of him, gripping his tattered cloak with trembling hands.
Her eyes were red, her voice breaking. "Excuse me… My son… I don't see my son, Barun here... Where is he?"
The commander remained silent. His eyes darkened with sorrow.
One of the wounded soldiers beside him stepped forward and whispered. "Commander… That's Barun's mother."
The commander took a deep breath and gave a solemn nod. "Bring it here."
A soldier walked over, carrying something wrapped in a bloodstained cloth. As he approached, the mother's body trembled, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
With shaking hands, she unwrapped the cloth
—inside were the severed arm of her son.
The world seemed to stop.
The mother's lips parted, but no sound came out. Her arm moved over the lifeless, pale fingers that once belonged to her child. And then, the reality shattered her.
She clutched the severed hands to her chest and let out a wretched, heart-piercing scream.
"WAAAGH!!! WAAAGH!!!"
The sound of her sorrow filled the air, chilling everyone to the bone even Eren.
Tears streamed down her face as she rocked back and forth, holding onto the only thing left of her son.
Her voice cracked as she whispered between sobs. "...But my son… was useful to you, wasn't he?"
The commander's breath hitched at her words.
She looked up at him, her grief-stricken eyes desperate for meaning. "Even if he didn't achieve anything directly… His death brought humanity one step closer to beating the bloody monsters back, right?!"
The crowd fell silent, waiting for his response.
The commander clenched his jaw. His shoulders shook.
"Of course…"
Then, slowly—he bowed his head.
"No… our survey this time—"
His breath hitched as tears fell onto the dirt beneath him.
"This time too, we—we accomplished NOTHING!!"
A shockwave of horror and realization rippled through the crowd.
Even Eren froze, his chest tightening as the words hit him like a slap to the face.
The commander clenched his fists, his entire body shaking with frustration and shame.
"We didn't get any closer to finding out what those things really are!!"
Someone in the crowd whispered, their voice filled with dread.
"That's just… awful."
The fat, bald man beside Eren scoffed. "If they had stayed inside the Wall, they'd all be safe and sound."
Another voice muttered in agreement. "Soldiers are nothing but a waste of our taxes."
''Yeah that's ridiculous." One person said.
The fat man sneered, crossing his arms. "So basically, our taxes are being used to fatten up those bastards by providing them with snacks!"
Eren became angry he couldn't take it anymore.
SMACK!!
Before the fat man could even blink, Eren's fist slammed into his bald head.
The man stumbled, his face red with shock and rage. "Huh?! What the hell do you think you're doing, you little shit?!"
Before he could retaliate, Mikasa had already grabbed Eren by the collar and yanked him back.
His eyes burned with hatred.
He couldn't stand it.
The cowardice.
The complacency.
The way they laughed at the soldiers who gave their lives.
He couldn't stand any of it.