Everyone was lodged in the same fucking place. A filthy corner of a tower with a few rooms, we were forced to stay in this shit, watched 24 hours a day while the tribunal of the Eldian Anti-Rumbling Coalition Force took place. I wandered through the castle in a stupid wheelchair, knowing I should be grateful—I was alive. Grateful for what?! I should have died in this hellhole! Shit. 42 years old, and after spending my whole life fighting, I ended up in a wheelchair, being judged for saving the fucking humanity. I hated everything the sun touched, especially all my scars, the wounds that kept closing and turning into hideous marks. I was a handsome man, and I had become a piece of shit, blind in one eye, crippled in one leg. I was a burden now, the memory of a great man who lived in the past. I looked at the missing fingers on my hand, hoping that, like a breath, they would grow back in place. Life was unfair—we lost everything, and now we faced retaliation from our own people. Maybe tomorrow will be kinder. I heard a fucking scream and knew where it came from—that damn brat kept having dreams about Eren. When she wasn’t trying not to kill Mikasa, she was delirious in agony.