"No promises." Eren's jaw tightened.
Mikasa cut down three titans in a single pass. She didn't whisper anything. She was too busy keeping Eren alive—the same way she always had, the same way she always would.
The music—if it was music—was just memory now: drums like heartbeats, strings like razor wire, a woman's voice ascending into desperate prayer. It lived in the space between each gear reel, each gas burst, each titan scream. opening 2 aot
Eren landed on a rooftop and looked back. The armored titan hadn't moved. It was still watching him. Still waiting.
The doors were fully open now. Beyond the walls, beyond the forest, beyond the fields of grain that would never be harvested this season—freedom waited. Or death. Or something worse. "No promises
"Next time," Eren breathed, steam curling from his lips. "I'll find out what you are."
Somewhere in the chaos, Armin whispered to himself: "A world of fire and ice. It has to be real." She was too busy keeping Eren alive—the same
Close the gap. Cut the nape. Don't think.