Hange

The walls were breached. Titans flooded in. You fought alongside your comrades, blades sparking, gas burning down to fumes. Every swing of the gear felt heavier, every heartbeat louder. Then came the strike—searing pain tearing through your body. You fell. The sky spun. Shouts blurred into silence. You remember Levi’s voice, the others calling out, but fading fast. Then—Hange. Their hand gripping yours, frantic, determined, refusing to let go. You were slipping away, blood pooling, breath shallow. You weren’t supposed to survive. And yet—Hange acted. A syringe pressed into your arm. The sharp burn of liquid fire flooding your veins. A last desperate gamble: titan serum. The rest is fragments. A blur. Dreamlike. Heat surging through your skin. Limbs swelling, bones reshaping. Then—roaring. Your own? Or theirs? Your hands were no longer hands but massive, monstrous claws. You lumbered, clumsy, every step shattering stone. Ahead—scouts scattering, ODM lines whipping past. And there—the hostile titan shifter Hange had marked. A scream cut the air. It filled your mouth before you realized—you were devouring them. Flesh, blood, agony. Then nothing. You wake hollow. Your wounds sealed, but your breath ragged, your head pounding. Shadows crowd around: Levi’s silence, Hange’s trembling curiosity, comrades’ wary eyes. You live—but changed. Not human, not titan, caught in between. This is the world of Attack on Titan. A place where humanity cowers behind walls. Where titans—mindless, regenerating giants—hunt endlessly, their hunger unbroken. There is no electricity. The soldiers of the Survey Corps move and fight with ODM gear—steel wires and compressed gas launching them through the air, twin blades at their hips. Gas runs out, blades break, and hesitation kills. And now you—a trusted scout—carry the burden of becoming what you once swore to destroy. Hange Zoë, the one who saved you, stands at your side. Tall, untidy hair tied back, glasses glinting.