The voices settles upon him with the weight of MILLENIA. It shakes the foundations of this timeless expanse, arches with each thunderous word, crests like the hungry maw of an oncoming wave. It swallows him whole; its unbearable heaviness surges through him, crushes down every desperate and aggrieved thought Reiner has been nursing since their tragic reunion in Liberio. The intonation of a TORTURED CHILD bent on bloody torment is heartrending. The very power of it threatens to shake his bones apart to dust, to melt their marrow like the wax of a candle. He should not have come here — this too is timeless. He should never have come here; to Paradis; into this world. Tragedy repeats ad infinitum.
—ELIMINATE ALL ENEMIES.
—A WORLD UNITED AGAINST US.
—MANKIND’S VICIOUS CYCLE OF HATRED.
Is this Eren’s voice? It may well be his own, for how recognizable this mindless vitriol sounds. Reiner had believed it once, too: a world bent on victimizing them, an island of cloistered devils waiting for the perfect moment to inflict their vengeance upon it. Utter ruination had been their only strategy: maim before you are maimed; kill before you are killed. An ignorant fabrication of a casus belli, but fear is a powerful elixir — Marley had forced him to choke it down for years, until terror seized his heart at the mere mention of this word, this ‘ RUMBLING.’ He sees it now for what it truly was: a wretched lie, a farce orchestrated by idle, sniveling men who sent children to wage their wars. And now it is thrown back at him, these words dripping like tar from the very lips he thought least likely to bear them.
They are far too alike, in this petulant foolishness. They are more alike than Reiner could have ever realized. He would not wish such a pitiful fate upon anyone.
‘ Is that really what you think, Eren? ’ His own voice sounds so woefully small in this place. He is reminded again that this is not his domain; this is not a plane he is meant to linger in. ‘ Who will protect them from each other? Do you really think that killing everyone else will keep them safe from themselves? ’ He remembers the camps, the crowded barracks filled with refugees, the constant gnawing of hunger and hardship. Lean times — desperate times. If ever there was a lesson to glean from those years, it is that everyone has the capacity for selfish cruelty. Mankind’s vicious cycle of hatred? The hardest lesson Reiner had been forced to learn was the utter humanity of these people — mankind, for all its beauty and unbearable tragedy, comprises Paradis as well. ‘ When you clear away the earth, and the people of Paradis can finally leave, what then? What will stop them fighting over the land outside of the island? What will stop them from repeating the same mistakes we did? ’
There will be nothing for them to lay claim to, of course. Do those people know this? Paradis will be the only thing left, the only thing salvageable. But perhaps that is the aim in itself — a return, rather than a rebirth. The same quiet island, now gifted with an OCEAN VIEW. An idyllic dream; a boy’s dream.
( Are you still in there after all, Eren? )
The world may not matter to him now, as it once had. Perhaps petty technicalities are beyond him, standing so high above the clouds. The boy is dead, yes — but Reiner must believe that the man, with his wounded, aching heart, still remains.
‘ What about Falco? You remember him, don’t you? ’ Grief creeps into his throat. It calcifies behind his tongue, threatens to crack the steadiness of his voice. He cannot swallow it down; he must push past it. ‘ He brought you chocolate once, visited you in the hospital — befriended you. Do you know what happened to him, because of Zeke, because of this plan? He became a TITAN. So many of the same people you wanted to save were transformed that day. Falco only survived because he ate one of our warriors. His brother died holding him. Is that what you wanted for him, Eren? ’
( It can’t be, it can’t be. If you are in there, please, say this isn’t want you wanted and STOP THIS! )
THOSE WORDS, mere ripples in the vast cosmic pool of Creation / but he feels them, even still, as far underwater as he could possibly hope to retreat away from the waves of consequence churning endlessly at the ocean’s surface, as they grapple with stubborn hands one over the other / desperately clinging to the horizon’s final few scant rays of sunlight / before the oppressive night swallows all. ENOUGH, ENOUGH: no single tear shed / no miniscule drop of water into the already immense weight bearing down upon him would ever be enough to make him yield - the world’s pitch-black seas roll harmlessly over his shoulders, as though moving through air, through a space unoccupied. HE IS UNBURDENING HIMSELF OF HUMANITY / OF THE CONTINUED TERROR EXISTENCE ENABLES, TRAGEDY AFTER TRAGEDY. Indeed, if humanity is the price he must pay for this liberation of apathy, then he will pay the cost / one over the other. AGAIN, AND AGAIN. AD INFINITUM.
That’s what Reiner consistently fails to understand. This story has already been told; no orator could possibly misinterpret it, untranslatable as it is / the words having already decided themselves before the thought is even conceived to speak them. If Reiner had been expecting a cold wash of terror - that which would have paralyzed a younger boy, a helpless boy - then he will bring forth wildfire in its place. His clenched teeth tighten like a vice on the barren wasteland sprawled out before him. The starry sky hung overhead begins spinning backwards in panic / supernovas sparking like embers to kindling, blazing wildly out of control before suffocating themselves in the imploding vacuum of their own making. YES, HE FEELS IT: one life extinguished, then the next, and the next, and the next-- What’s one more countryman turned ? Why now would such emphasis be placed on the abrupt extinction of a few dozen Eldians transformed into the gluttonous monsters that have always lurked beneath their skin / ready to perform their only function, absolute annihilation ? Because it wasn’t planned ? Because it happened to someone close, someone special, someone who didn’t deserve it- ?!
( Falco! bemoans a weary voice, thick with grief / heaving with the effort of expelling saltwater from nonexistent lungs as though it is somehow still trapped in the throes of drowning. It cries out in horror, in anger, unable to be heard: No! No, I never wanted this! No, I never wanted you to suffer! No, I never wanted to do this! NO, NO, NO. NO, NO NO NO NONONO IWANTTOSTOP-IWANTITTOSTOP-IWANTTOBESTOPPED-ICANNOTBESTOPPED-- !! )
It doesn’t matter. It never mattered ( ? ). That innocuous spring-summer morning, a fresh wound still bleeding sluggish blood / memory betraying a touch of chill to the air, making sunlight all the more warm for it. Those early hours spent in brief, halting conversation / his petty reluctance null in the face of such innocent charity - did that matter, either ? Was any of it genuine ? Is any of it still salvageable ? ( NO! screams the louder voice, the stronger voice, the voice that commands armies / that continues marching forwards, even now, despite everything / not even stuttering in the slightest. THIS IS THE STORY YOU STARTED / SO FINISH IT !! )
In the distance, his image is superimposed over a glowing tree of light, silhouette shuddering with hate / hate / hate. You were planning for Falco to inherit the Armored Titan either way, he seethes, his own static tone betraying nothing of the underlying rage that drives these words into existence. You begged him to. You gave him no other choice if he wanted to save his friend. Gabi, your cousin ... The hypocrisy drips from his lips like toxic spittle, accusatory and sickening even unto himself. To spare her, you would willingly sacrifice another child to the same hell you yourself wanted to escape from so desperately. YOU’D SACRIFICE YOURSELF TO THAT HELL. Is that what you wanted ?
... If I hadn’t come that day and attacked Liberio, either Falco or Gabi would have gone on to inherit a Titan, and you wouldn’t have done anything to prevent it. If not one, then the other. HIS FATE WAS PREDETERMINED, AS WAS ALL OF OURS.
Don’t you see ? This cycle must be broken. This cycle will be broken. What becomes of Humanity in the future is irrelevant ... I CANNOT CHANGE THE PAST. I CANNOT CHANGE THE FUTURE. EVERYTHING I’VE GAMBLED ON ... HAS LED ME HERE, TO THIS MOMENT. AND I WILL SEE IT THROUGH TO THE VERY END.
annaxmalina
andulkaphoto
turnnoffyourmind
