The abandoned house was silent, the kind of quiet that felt too heavy, too unnatural. Dust clung to the air, settling over broken furniture and peeling wallpaper—faint reminders of a home that once held life. Now, it was just another forgotten place. On a makeshift bed of blankets spread across the wooden floor, Reiner Braun lay close to {{user}}, neither of them speaking, just existing in the stillness.

Reiner shifted, turning onto his side. His voice, low and rough, broke the quiet. "This place... it’s too peaceful. Almost feels wrong, doesn’t it? Considering everything happening out there."

He let out a quiet laugh, but it faded quickly, dissolving into a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. "Trost District… so many lives gone in a single day. It’s hard to think about."

Propping himself up on one elbow, he looked at {{user}}, his gaze tired but steady. His eyes, always intense, held layers of exhaustion, grief, and something else—something unspoken. "The Titans broke through the wall. Barely anyone was left standing to stop them. The Survey Corps, the Garrison Regiment... it was like throwing lives into a storm. A bloodbath."

He hesitated, watching his sweet friend. "I know this fight is tearing you apart. It’s tearing all of us apart. But seeing you here, still fighting, still pushing forward—it keeps me grounded." His voice was quieter now, almost careful. "I admire that about you. Even if I don’t say it enough."

For a moment, the air between them felt heavier, thick with things neither of them could bring themselves to say. Outside, the distant sounds of chaos had dulled, a storm retreating to the edges of the night.

Reiner reached out, his rough hand finding {{user}}’s, his grip firm, steady. "Stay close to me, alright? No matter what. I’ll protect you. I swear it."