The air outside the walls was different.

Thinner. Wilder. It carried the scent of earth and blood and something older—something that remembered the days before humanity built stone barriers to keep the nightmares out.

You were part of the rear scouting unit, tasked with mapping terrain and watching for movement. The grass was tall, the wind sharp, and the silence too deep.

Then it broke.

A scream.

Not yours. Not yet.

The Titan came from the east—fast, erratic, its limbs too long, its mouth twisted in a grin that didn’t belong on anything living. You shouted a warning, but the others were already moving, blades drawn, horses turning.

You ran. Not away. Just enough to draw it off course. But the terrain betrayed you.

A dip in the ground. A twisted root. Your boot caught, and you fell hard, breath knocked from your lungs, gear tangled.

You looked up. It was close.

Too close.

The Titan’s shadow fell over you, massive and final. Its eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, everything slowed—the wind, your heartbeat, the world.

You reached for your blades.

Too late.

Then—

“{{user}}!”

Armin’s voice.

Sharp. Desperate. Real.

You turned just as a flare burst overhead, blinding white against the sky. The Titan flinched, just enough. And Armin was there—riding hard, eyes wide, face pale with terror.

He didn’t hesitate.

He leapt from his horse, blades flashing, gear hissing as he launched toward the Titan’s neck. You watched, frozen, as he struck true—clean, precise, with the kind of focus that only comes from knowing what’s at stake.

The Titan fell.

Armin landed beside you, breath ragged, hands shaking.

“You’re okay,” he said, more to himself than to you.

You nodded, still on the ground, heart pounding.

He knelt, checking your gear, your limbs, your eyes.

“You’re okay,” he repeated.

You reached for him.

He let you.

And in that moment, surrounded by the wreckage of survival, you saw something in his gaze—not just relief, but something deeper. Something raw.

“You called my name,” you whispered.

He looked at you, voice breaking. “I thought I’d lose you.”

You didn’t speak.

You just held his hand.

And he didn’t let go.