Chapter I: Promise 

---

Crimson. Fog.

 

Thick. Cloying. Reeking of copper and charred meat.

Limbs scattered. Viscera smeared across shattered blades and splintered bone. A graveyard carpeted in butchered flesh.

Hunger uncurled in my guts. Gnawing. Relentless. I scented the air - blood and offal heavy on my tongue.

Closer. Nearer.

Movement through the soupy murk. A twitching form, ravaged but not yet lifeless.

Prey.

I pounced, jaws unhinging to receive my bounty. Meat gave way between my teeth, tendons parting with muffled pops. Wet heat flooded my maw as I tore and rent, bone splintering under the savage grinding of my jaws.

Feast. Glut. Gorge.

The cravings roared through me, an inferno of mindless hunger that demanded fuel. More. Always more.

I wallowed in the kill, let the ichor soak into my matted fur as I gnashed and glutted and defiled. My prey's death agonies were mere white noise drowned beneath the thunder of my rapacious greed.

When the spasms at last subsided, I reared back - muzzle slick, belly swollen, eyes glassy with sanguine euphoria. Only then did I take true stock of my surroundings.

The fog hung thick, but I could make out the vague silhouettes of my rampage. Tattered remnants of uniforms and armor, the sad markers of the dead. A debased ossuary scattered across the killing ground.

I should have felt revulsion. Guilt. Shame at the ruination I had wrought, the gluttonous despoiling of friend and foe alike.

Instead, a feral sort of pride swelled in my breast. I had culled the weak, taken my fill of their yielded flesh as was my right. The victor's spoils.

My bulk shifted, rolls of densely-muscled haunches gathering beneath me as I prepared to move on. There would be other battlefields to reap, other carcasses ripe for harvesting.

That was when the movement caught my eye - a twitching shape struggling to rise through the carmine murk.

I froze, every sense suddenly hyper-alert as the hunger flared anew. My nostrils flared, drinking in the scent of its fear-sweat and the tang of fresh blood.

A low growl rumbled from my depths, equal parts challenge and anticipation. Whatever this new prey was, it would soon be just another offering laid at the altar of my gluttony.

The shape resolves itself - a small, battered figure clawing its way upright through the jumbled remains of the dead. No, not just any prey...this was the hunter that had felled so many of these pathetic weaklings in the first place.

And now it would become the hunted.

I tensed, coiling tight for the charge as a crimson haze of exhilaration clouded my vision. This was the prize I had been seeking, the ultimate quarry! To take this one, to reduce them to scraps and soil as I had the rest…

It sensed me then, twisting to face me with startling alacrity despite its mangled state. Those eyes - wide and wild and glittering with feral terror - bored into me from beneath the lank tangle of gore-slicked hair.

I drank in its fear, savored the pheromones of raw panic gusting off of it in waves. Oh, how its anguish would season the meat, how sweetly its desperate struggles would play across my palate before I-

"Anja! Anja, wake up!"

The words were strange, alien...but familiar enough to penetrate the fog of my bloodlust. To lodge themselves in the primitive core of my being like barbs.

Reality reasserted itself in a visceral rush, the tide of sanguine rapture receding to reveal a bone-chilling tableau.

There, mere feet away, lay...myself. Broken and defiled, body ravaged by brutal gouges and missing half a face. The shattered ruin of my features was frozen in a perpetual rictus of shock and agony, one eye and cheek torn away to expose the glistening ruin beneath.

Yet despite the pulped remains of my skull, that single remaining eye somehow found mine in the gloom - round and green and glistening with tears of mortal terror.

"Please...help me…"

The whispered plea roused something deeper than revulsion, something that reverberated in my very marrow like the knell of doom.

I was the one who had done this.

Savaged my own body, butchered my own flesh in a grotesque pantomime of my savage hungers. A vile, cannibalistic rite that mocked every notion of sanity or humanity.

A scream of pure, unvarnished anguish built in my throat, a howl of self-loathing so visceral it threatened to unmake me. To unmake everything I thought I knew about myself and the world around me.

But before that scream could claw its way free, ripping me asunder from the inside out…

---

Anja's eyes snapped open, her body drenched in a cold sweat. Her heart thundered in her ears as images from the nightmare flashed through her mind - blood, viscera, the sickening crunch of bone giving way beneath her hands.

She sucked in a shuddering breath, frantically blinking away the remnants of the dream. Just a nightmare, she told herself firmly. Only a nightmare.

Anja shivered, pushing aside the sweat-soaked sheets and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She flexed her hands, studying the pale skin and unmarred knuckles as if expecting to see them coated in blood.

What was happening to her? These dreams, these nightmares of savagery and slaughter...they had been growing more frequent, more vivid with each passing night. Leaving her shaken and disoriented in a way she couldn't explain.

Perhaps it was just the stress of living in the ever-present shadow of the Titans...

Anja Wolf's small bedroom in Shiganshina District, gently rousing the 10-year-old girl from her slumber. Anja yawned and stretched before leaping out of bed, her vibrant green eyes already sharpening with an unnatural intensity.

She quickly donned her favorite dress and began braiding her long auburn hair. Her gaze drifted to the childish drawings adorning her walls, depicting her and Heinrik as stick figures holding hands and smiling. One sketch in the corner showed the two combatants brandishing crude, exaggerated swords, frozen in sword-locked battle stances.

Beside her bed lay several sticks that she often clutched with white-knuckle grips as she pretended they were real blades, hacking and slashing at invisible foes with a zeal that worried her mother, playing at being a brave Scout like her brother.

"Anja! Anja, breakfast is ready!" her mother's voice rang out from the kitchen below, interrupting her reverie.

"Coming Mom!" Anja called back. With a last glance at a drawing of Heinrik, she scampered downstairs.

Her mother, Emma stood by the kitchen table, her short auburn hair framing her careworn face. Her blue eyes lacked their usual luster.

"Oh good, you're already dressed. Eat up before your food gets cold," Her attempted smile faded as she caught sight of the fresh set of nicks and gouges in the wooden doorframe - evidence of her daughter's “practice" sessions. "So, you remembered what day it is?"

"Of course! Heinrik comes home today," Anja replied brightly, digging into her breakfast.

"That's right. Your brother's due back from his expedition. I worry about him out there, facing those...those monsters." She shook her head, as if to banish the thought.

“You're coming with me to see him, right Mom?"

Emma's smile faltered. "Why don't you go on ahead, sweetie? I need to stay and mind the shop."

Anja paused mid-bite and frowned. "Are you sure? I thought you'd want to see Heinrik as soon as possible."

"I... Yes, I'm sure. Don't worry about me, run along now," Her mother said with forced cheer, busying herself at the counter. "I need to stay and mind the shop. You go on ahead, sweetie."

Though somewhat deflated, Anja gulped down the rest of her food, gave her mother a quick peck on the cheek, and hurried out into the bustling streets of Shiganshina. She wove through the crowds with practiced ease, her small form darting ever closer to the towering outer gate of Wall Maria.

"Hey Armin!" Anja called out, spotting a familiar blond boy sitting on a crate, his nose buried in a worn book.

Armin looked up, startled. "Oh hi Anja. What's got you in such a rush?"

"My brother's back from his expedition today! I'm heading to the gate. Wanna come?" she asked breathlessly.

"Thanks for the invite, but I'm really busy with this book at the moment," Armin replied with an apologetic smile. "But hey, remember the book that talks about the outside world? Maybe you could ask Heinrik if he saw anything like that on his expedition. Maybe this time they reached further."

Anja nodded excitedly. "Yeah, I remember! You're always talking about it. Sure, I'll ask him. See you later, Armin!"

Waving goodbye, she took off running again. And just like clockwork the bell tower rung, signaling their arrival. By the time she reached the crowd gathered at the foot of Wall Maria, the Survey Corps were already passing through the gate. Her eager smile faded as she took in the soldiers' slumped shoulders, downcast eyes, and tattered green cloaks spattered with blood.

Several rode with heavy bandaging, while others led a covered cart that undoubtedly carried the bodies of the fallen. The metallic scent of blood and sweat hung heavy in the air, mingling with the murmur of the crowd. For a moment, the nightmare flashed before Anja's eyes again - mangled bodies, glassy eyes, glistening viscera. She shook her head violently, banishing the gruesome image.

The crowd muttered and sneered as the disheartened soldiers passed.

"What a waste of lives and taxes."
"It's hopeless going out there."
"Serves 'em right for having a death wish."

Anja bit her lip hard, as she sought Heinrik's face among the procession.
Then she spotted him, looking weary but whole. "Heinrik! Over here!" she cried, waving frantically.

Her brother glanced over and his somber face broke into a wan but genuine smile. He guided his horse to the edge of the crowd. "Anja, I missed you, imp! Hope you haven't been giving Mom too much trouble in my absence," he teased gently, ruffling her hair.

 

As Heinrik spoke to his sister, a man with undercut black hair and a gelid gaze drifted over the crowd, his expression unreadable. For the briefest of moments, his eyes seemed to linger on Anja, a flicker of something like recognition passing over his features. But then it was gone, his face settling back into a stoic mask. She focused back on her brother.

"...I've been good, promise! But never mind that - what happened out there? You all look so sad and hurt," Anja asked, worry creasing her brow.

Heinrik's smile faltered. "Ah well, you know... It's just hard having to turn back is all. Those Titans sure made us work for it this time. But don't you fret, we gave as good as we got!" He puffed his chest out with exaggerated bravado, eliciting a giggle from Anja.

Then his expression softened and he dismounted his horse, kneeling before his sister. "Listen, how about I stick around for a few days, spend some time with you and Mom? Dunno how long it'll be before I'm back in town again."

Anja beamed and hugged him tight. "Yes please!"

 

As Anja embraced her brother, she felt the familiar press of the pendant he always wore around his neck. It was a simple metal disk, weathered and scratched. For as long as she could remember, Heinrik had never been without it.

 

She stood rooted to the spot her mind drifted to the last time her brother had been home, when he'd surprised her with a beautifully carved wooden sword. 'For my little warrior,' he'd said with a grin, ruffling her hair. 'Keep training hard, and one day you'll be even better than me.' Anja had treasured that sword above all others in her collection, practicing with it every day and dreaming of the moment she could stand beside her brother as a fellow Scout.

Just then that dark-haired soldier approached, his posture ramrod straight despite his short stature. Her brother gestured at him. "Lieutenant, a word?"

The man nodded and Heinrik turned back to Anja. "Gimme a sec, then we'll head home together." He stepped a few paces away to confer with his comrade.

Anja peered at the stern-faced man curiously. "Who's that?" she whispered when Heinrik returned.
"Oh, I think I told you about him before, that's Lieutenant Levi, he’s saved my life more times than I can count, he’s the strongest soldier in the whole Survey Corps," he told her, his eyes shining with respect.

She wrinkled her nose. "So that’s Levi... I thought he'd be taller."

Heinrik laughed and tweaked her nose. "Just goes to show the best things can come in small packages. Now c'mon, let's not keep Mom waiting any longer."

The siblings walked home arm-in-arm, Anja practically skipping in her excitement to have her brother back while Heinrik savored the sights and sounds of Shiganshina's peaceful streets. But as they neared the little house adjoining their mother's shop, the lighthearted mood evaporated.

Their mother stood frozen in the doorway, one trembling hand pressed to her mouth. "Heinrik? Is it really you?" she breathed.

He stepped forward, arms open in concern. "It's me, Mom. I'm alright, really-"

The rest of his assurance was cut off as Emma flew down the steps and threw her arms around him, openly weeping. "My baby, my baby, are you hurt? Is that a new scar? Oh why do you do this to me Heinrik..." she sobbed, clutching him like he might disappear if she let go.

Heinrik held her close, murmuring soothing words as he stroked her hair, while Anja shifted from foot to foot, both moved and discomfited by the raw display of emotion. After several long moments, Emma collected herself enough to shepherd them all inside, fussing over Heinrik's rumpled uniform and tired face.

The joyful reunion continued over dinner, though a palpable tension undercut the smiles and laughter. It finally came to a head when their mother asked in a falsely casual tone, "So, how long will you be home for this time?"

Heinrik winced and rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, about that... I have to head back out tomorrow to rejoin my squad."

Emma's face drained of color. "What? But you just got here! Surely they can spare you for a few more days," she cried.

"Mom, you know this is what I signed up for," he replied heavily, bracing for the coming storm. Anja's eyes darted anxiously between them as their mother's voice rose in pitch.

"Signed up to throw your life away, you mean! Why are you so determined to abandon us?" she demanded, angry tears welling up.

Heinrik surged to his feet. "That's not fair! I'm doing this to keep you safe, to keep everyone safe! My comrades are counting on me. I won't turn my back on them!"

"And what about your family? Or do we not matter anymore?"

Anja couldn't bear it. She shoved her chair back with a clatter and fled to her room, their escalating shouts chasing her up the stairs. Flinging herself on her bed, she pulled her pillow over her head, trying in vain to block it all out. Hot tears leaked into the fabric. Why did they always have to fight?

Some time later, there was a soft knock at her door. She hastily dried her face on her sleeve and slipped beneath the covers, feigning sleep. The door creaked open and she heard Heinrik's footsteps approach. The mattress dipped as he perched on the edge of her bed.

He poked her side, chuckling when she squirmed. "C'mon you little imp, I know you're awake under there."

Anja poked her head out, giggling in spite of herself. But her smile faded as she remembered the ugly scene downstairs. "Heinrik? Why is Mom always so angry with you?"

Her brother sighed, the sound heavy with unspoken burdens. "She hasn't been the same since Dad, you know? She just worries. Worries I won't come back either," he said quietly.

"But you will come back," Anja said fiercely, sitting bolt upright. "You're brave and smart and strong. The best soldier ever. Mom's silly for thinking you'd leave us. You'd never... right?" Her voice wavered on the last word, a sudden note of uncertainty creeping in.

Heinrik pulled her into a tight hug. "Never," he vowed. "I'll always be here for you, always protect you, I promise."

Relieved, she burrowed into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent of pine and leather and something undefinably Heinrik. "I knew it. Love you," she said, her words muffled by his shirt.

He pressed a tender kiss to the crown of her head. "I love you too, Anja. To the moon and back." Gently, he tucked her back into bed and smoothed the covers. "Sleep tight now. I'll see you in the morning before I go."

"G'night," she yawned, already slipping into slumber as her brother quietly slipped out of the room. Her last fuzzy thought before sleep claimed her was that no matter what happened, she would always have Heinrik.