Attack on Titan: Wolfborn

Chapter XI: Resurrection

Cold. Empty. Void.

I drifted, lost—a speck in the vast nothingness. Fragments of sensation, of memory, flickered at the edges of my mind, slipping away like wisps of smoke when I tried to grasp them.

A distant, echoing drip of water. Faint, irregular scratching. Voices, muffled and indistinct, echoed from somewhere far above. Or was it below? Directions were meaningless in this endless expanse.

I tried to call out, to scream, but my voice was swallowed by the void. Silence pressed in on me, suffocating and absolute.

Alone. Utterly, completely alone.

Heinrik? Mom? Anyone?

But no one answered. No one came. I was adrift in a sea of darkness.

Tears streamed down my face, hot and stinging against my icy skin. The darkness pressed in on me from all sides, its intensity suffocating. I wanted to scream, to cry out, but my voice was lost, swallowed by the void.

"Anja! Wake up!"

A voice distant, distorted, filtering down from above. I didn't recognize it, couldn't place the desperate, pleading tone. A lifeline thrown into the abyss.

I knew I should fight, should claw my way back to the light...to what? I couldn't remember. The light, the world above, it all seemed so distant, so unreal.

A part of me recoiled from the idea, fragments of blood and brutality surging through my mind, a monster lurking beneath my skin.

Maybe it was better to sink into this nothingness, to let the darkness take me and spare the world from it.

I hit bottom, my body colliding with a surface that felt like frozen stone. The impact jolted through me, a dull, distant pain from a million miles away.

Faint light flickered above me, little more than a pinprick in the void. It wavered and danced, tantalizingly out of reach.

I lay there, sprawled and shivering, fingers scrabbling against the unseen ground. Smooth, rounded shapes shifted and clattered beneath my hands.

A thick, cloying, metallic scent filled my nostrils. It coated my tongue, making my stomach heave.

Blood. I was surrounded by blood and death. A field of bones and ripped flesh, tattered remains of countless victims.

"H...elp... me... pl...ease..."

The voice cut through the silence like a knife. The words were barely audible, a distant, distorted whisper that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. I twisted, straining to locate the source, but there was nothing—just the endless, empty void.

"I'm... sc...ared...h...elp"

The voice came again, louder this time, more distinct. A woman's voice, achingly familiar, but warped and twisted, as if spoken through a mouthful of broken glass.

I looked around, my heart pounding. Nothing. A chill ran through my spine. As the darkness pressed in on me, thick and suffocating, I became aware of a presence—a sensation of something lurking just beyond the edge of my perception.

"Sc...ared... so... lone... why... leave...?"

The voice was closer now, clearer, a screech that grated against my ears like metal on bone.

Then I saw it. A flicker of movement in the darkness, a shape coalescing out of the void itself. Vague, undefined, a shimmering, distorted mass at the periphery of my vision, never quite resolving into a solid form.

Red eyes pierced the gloom, fixed on me, alight with hunger.

"Help me!"

A perfect, haunting replica of my own voice. It cried with desperation, so real, so visceral, that for a moment, I almost believed it was truly me.

The thing moved closer, bones crunching beneath it, circling me, prowling just out of reach. Fangs glinted in a too-wide mouth, a twisted smile promising nothing but hunger and destruction.

"Heinrik! Mom! Where are you? I'm lost!"

The voice shifted, sliding into the high, innocent tones of a child, wailing. The words pierced my heart like jagged shards of glass.

I tried to back away, but my body was frozen, paralyzed by primal, instinctive dread. The creature's hand shot out, fingers elongating into razor-sharp claws, the flesh mangled and twisted, obsidian needles jutting from rotting, pulsing skin, piercing my chest, pinning me firmly to the freezing cold ground.

Pain exploded through my body, a searing agony that consumed me from the inside out. It felt like I was being flayed alive, my nerves stripped raw and bleeding. My screams trapped and strangled by the crushing pressure of the void.

"Mon...ster..."

It hissed, the word garbled and distorted, a mockery of Nac's dying accusation that haunted her mind.

I shook my head frantically, tears streaming down my face, my chest heaving with panicked, gasping breaths. Red eyes bored into me, stripping me bare, as if it could peer into the darkest depths of my soul.

"Fail...ure..."

It whispered, its voice sliding back into a perfect imitation of my own.

"Weak... help...less... every...one... dies... your... fault..."

The creature's essence was seeping into me, filling me with a cold, oily darkness that sapped my will. Pain consumed me, white-hot and blinding, obliterating thought and reason and hope. The light above seemed to waver and dim, fading away into the darkness like a snuffed candle, leaving me alone with the nightmare made flesh.

"Let... me... in..."

It rasped, its voice a grating, metallic scrape that set my teeth on edge.

"Give… More... Hunger…"

The words guttural, an animalistic growl.

And then it was surging forward, those terrible jaws closing around my head a razor-sharp caress that promised only agony...

Screams muffled by the wet, choking darkness of its throat. I could feel its hunger, insatiable, mindless.

Then I was surging upwards, a scream tearing from my throat, my mind fracturing into a kaleidoscope of blood, madness and despair.

As Anja's consciousness slowly returned, the first thing she noticed was the searing pain that engulfed her entire body. It was a raw, pulsing agony that radiated from her back, as if someone had pressed a white-hot brand against her skin.

She groaned, her eyelids fluttering open, squinting against the harsh light that filtered through the haze of smoke and dust.

She was lying on a rooftop, the rough tiles digging into her battered flesh. The sky above was a sickly grey, a few birds circling overhead, their distant cries echoing in the eerie stillness. The air was heavy, choked with ash and the distant echoes of screams.

Anja's mind reeled, fragmented memories of the Abnormal, of Franz's final moments, her own loss of control, all jumbling together in a confusing, nightmarish blur.

She struggled to make sense of it all, to separate reality from the twisted visions that haunted her fevered mind.

With a grunt of effort, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, ignoring the white-hot lances of pain that shot through her at the movement. Her hand brushed against something cold and metallic, and she glanced down, her brow furrowing.

There, resting on her chest, was her brother's pendant. The one she always wore around her neck, Now, it was just lying there.

Anja's fingers, littered with cuts and stitches, closed around the pendant with difficulty, feeling the familiar weight of it in her palm.

The last clear thing she could remember was Annie's face, pale and pinched with worry, hovering over her as the world faded to black.

Annie. The others. Where were they? What happened?

Armin…Eren…He died. And I…I killed Nac…

Anja struggled to her feet, biting back a scream as her body protested the movement. She looked around, taking in her surroundings with a growing sense of dread.

The rooftop was deserted, save for the scattered debris and the ominous stains of blood that splattered the tiles. Was it her own blood? She couldn't be sure.

In the distance, she could see the smoldering ruins of buildings, the hulking, steaming corpses of fallen Titans. A trail of destruction, leading away from her current position and towards the distant shape of headquarters.

Anja's heart clenched, a cold, creeping fear washing over her. They had left her. Her friends, her comrades, they had abandoned her, left her behind to face this new nightmare alone.

But even as the thought crossed her mind, Anja noticed something else. The wounds on her back, the ones that had been bleeding, raw and gaping, when she lost consciousness... they were sealed now. Puckered and blistered, the skin around them angry and inflamed. The wound still felt burning hot, a constant, searing agony that pulsed in time with her heartbeat.

Someone had tried to help her. Someone had stopped the bleeding, had closed her wounds, had given her a chance to survive.

But why? Why bother, when she was nothing but a liability, a danger to everyone around her? When she had proven herself to be little more than a ravening beast?

The image of Nac's face, frozen in agony and terror, flashed before her eyes once more. Anja's stomach heaved, bile rising in the back of her throat. She doubled over, retching, tears and snot mixing with the blood and grime on her face.

She deserved to die. Deserved to be torn apart by the Titans, to suffer the same fate as the victims of her own savagery. It would be a fitting end, a just punishment for her crimes.

Anja staggered to the edge of the rooftop, her feet dragging, her body leaden with exhaustion and despair. She looked out over the ruined city, the smoke and ash obscuring the horizon, the distant roars of the Titans echoing in the stagnant air.

A bitter smile twisted her lips as a thought crossed her mind.

Maybe her friends had survived. Maybe they had escaped, had made it to safety. She hoped so, with every fiber of her being. They deserved to live, to be free of this hell that had consumed their world.

But she... she had no place among them. Not anymore. Not after what she had done.

Anja's hand drifted to the ruined blade at her hip, the metal warped and dulled, barely fit for combat. But still sharp enough, perhaps, to end it all. To put a stop to the monster.

She drew the blade, staring at it with hollow eyes. It would be so easy, to just let go. To take that final step into oblivion, to embrace the darkness that beckoned with such seductive promise.

Memories of that endless void, the suffocating darkness that had nearly consumed her, flashed through her mind. Her fingers trembled at the thought, a shudder running down her spine. She steeled herself, forcing the memories back, focusing on the present, on the weight of the blade in her hand.

But even as the thought crossed her mind, even as the blade kissed her throat, a whisper of pressure against her jugular... Anja hesitated.

It was the coward's way out, a small, stubborn voice whispered in the back of her mind. The easy path, the one that let her escape the consequences of her actions.

If she was going to die, it should be on her feet. Fighting, like the soldier she had always dreamed of being. Like the woman her brother had believed her to be.

With a growl of self-loathing, Anja lowered the blade, her hand clenching around the hilt. No. She would not go gently into that good night. If death was to claim her, it would be in battle, with the blood of her enemies on her hands and a scream of defiance on her lips.

Painfully, she made her way down from the rooftop, each step sending bolts of agony lancing through her battered frame. The borrowed ODM gear was not in the best shape, the straps torn and the mechanisms stuttering.

But she didn't need it. Not for this.

As her feet hit the ground, Anja heard a sound that sent a chill racing down her spine. The thud of heavy footsteps, the guttural groans of Titans on the hunt. Close, too close.

And then, she saw them. A group of Titans, huddled together in a narrow street, blocking her path forward. They were small, 3-4 meters at most, but in her weakened state, they might as well have been Colossi.

With a grunt of effort, Anja unbuckled her ODM gear, cannisters and scabbards, letting it all fall to the ground with a clatter. The extra weight was only slowing her down, and she needed every ounce of speed and agility she could muster.

Anja's grip tightened on her blade, her heart pounding in her ears. She could feel the familiar surge of rage and bloodlust rising up within her, the dark, primal urge to rend and tear and destroy. But she pushed it down desperately, forced it back with every ounce of willpower she had left.

She wouldn’t give in to it.

"Come at me, you bastards!" Anja screamed, her voice raw and hoarse, barely recognizable to her own ears.

But the Titans didn't even spare her a glance, too focused on devouring the remains of the carcasses that littered the street. The scent of blood and decay was thick in the air.

Anja began walking towards them, clutching her ruined blade so tightly that the wounds on her fingers reopened, fresh blood mixing with the dried and flaking on her hands.

"Face me!" she roared, desperation and fury warring in her voice.

This time, the Titans seemed to take notice. They turned their heads slowly, almost lazily, as if mildly curious about the small, screaming creature that dared to challenge them.

Then, with a series of grunts and groans, they began to lumber towards her, their grasping hands reaching out, their gaping maws stretched wide in anticipation.

Anja's heart thundered in her chest, fear and adrenaline coursing through her veins. But she refused to back down, refused to show even a hint of the terror that clawed at her insides.

With a shaking hand, she grasped her brother's pendant, feeling the cool metal against her palm. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, drawing strength from the memories it evoked - Heinrik's laugh, his fierce protectiveness, his unwavering belief in her.

Then, with a deep breath, Anja opened her eyes, fixing her gaze on the approaching Titans. She adjusted her grip on her blade, both hands wrapping around the hilt, ignoring the way her wounds screamed in protest. Her body coiled like a spring, every muscle tensed and ready.

She was afraid, more afraid than she had ever been in her life. But in that moment, staring down death in the face of the monsters that had haunted her nightmares for so long, Anja felt a strange sense of calm settle over her.

This was it. This was how she died. Alone, broken, torn apart by the Titans. But she would go down fighting, to her very last breath.

With a wordless scream of defiance, Anja charged forward, her blade held high, ready to meet her fate head-on.

But before she could close the distance, before her blade could taste Titan flesh, the ground shook with a sudden, tremendous force. Anja stumbled, nearly losing her footing, as a shadow fell over her, vast and looming.

Her war cry died in her throat as a Titan barreled past her, a roar splitting the air, a sound of such raw, primal rage that it shook Anja to her very core. The Titan slammed into the others, sending them flying like ragdolls, their bodies crashing into buildings and skidding across the blood-slicked stones.

Anja stared, her eyes wide, her heart seizing in her chest. This Titan was massive, easily 15 meters tall, with shaggy dark hair and blazing green eyes that seemed to burn with an almost human intensity.

She watched, transfixed, as it tore into the other Titans with a savagery that bordered on gleeful. Fists pounded, teeth tore, steam and blood spraying the air as the rogue Titan ripped its kin to shreds with a single-minded ferocity.

Anja couldn't believe what she was seeing. A Titan, fighting other Titans? It was unheard of, impossible. And yet, here it was, right before her eyes, battling with a skill and intelligence that was chillingly, unnervingly familiar.

As the last of the Titans fell, the rogue turned towards her, its chest heaving, its eyes blazing with that fierce determination. And in that moment, as their gazes locked across the carnage-strewn street, Anja felt a shock of recognition jolt through her like a lightning bolt.

Those eyes... She would know them anywhere. That bright, burning green, so vivid and alive against the Titan's monstrous visage. There was only one person they could belong to.

And as she watched, as the rogue dispatched the last of the Titans and turned towards her, its chest heaving, its eyes blazing with a familiar light, that spark of fierce determination ... Anja felt a shock of recognition jolt through her.

"Eren?" The name tore from Anja's throat, half-question, half-desperate plea. She staggered forward, her hand outstretched, her brother's pendant dangling from her trembling fingers.

But the Titan, Eren, gave no sign that it had heard her. With a final, earth-shattering roar, it turned and charged away, disappearing into the smoke and ruins as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Anja standing alone in the middle of the devastated street.

"Wait, come back!" she called after him, her voice cracking, tears stinging her eyes. But Eren was already gone, vanished into the haze of destruction, leaving only questions and a fragile, flickering hope in his wake.

Anja stood there for a long moment, her mind reeling, trying to process the impossible truth of what she had just witnessed. Eren was alive. Somehow, against all odds, he had survived, had become something more...

If he could come back from the ashes of this nightmare… Maybe, just maybe, they stood a chance. Maybe the tide of this battle could be turned, maybe Trost could be saved.

She had to find the others, had to warn them about Eren, about the miracle this represented. She had no idea how they would react, if they would see him as a savior or a threat. But she had to try, had to reach them before it was too late.

Leaving Anja alone once more. Alone, but alive. Alive, and with new flicker of hope kindling in her chest, a tiny spark that refused to be extinguished.

With fumbling hands, Anja strapped her gear back on, gritting her teeth against the fresh wave of pain that washed over her as the straps dug into her wounds. She checked the gas canisters, dismay twisting in her gut as she realized how little was left. It wasn’t even enough to get her to headquarters.

She couldn't afford to waste a single drop, couldn't risk using the gear unless absolutely necessary.

Anja knew her only chance was to either scavenge more gas from her fallen comrades or make it to headquarters on foot. That was her only chance to get a refill; if any of the others were still out there, they would have fallen back to the walls.

Gripping her brother's pendant tight, feeling its solid weight anchoring her to the present, to the mission at hand, Anja set off in the direction Eren had gone. She followed the trail of destruction he had left in his wake, the shattered buildings and steaming Titan corpses a grim bread crumb trail leading towards the distant silhouette of headquarters.

Her progress was slow, agonizing. But Anja pushed on with unwavering determination, driven by a desperate need to reach her friends, to make sure they were safe, holding on to the impossible hope that Eren's return could be their saving grace.

As she limped through the ravaged streets, the extent of the devastation became increasingly clear. It wasn't just Titans that littered the blood-soaked cobblestones. Here and there, Anja caught glimpses of fallen soldiers, their bodies broken and mangled, strewn about like discarded dolls.

She tried not to look too closely, tried to block out the faces, the sightless eyes staring accusingly at the smoke-choked sky. But one in particular caught her gaze, stopped her dead in her tracks.

It was Hannah.

Or rather, what was left of her. Half of the girl's body was simply gone, devoured by some Titan's grasping maw. What remained hung limply from her ODM gear, suspended in midair like a grotesque puppet, one remaining eye wide and glassy with unshed tears.

Anja stared, bile rising in her throat, tears blurring her vision. She hadn't been close with Hannah, had barely spoken more than a handful of words to the girl during their training. But seeing her like this, so brutally ripped away from life, from the future she had barely begun to grasp... it hit Anja like a punch to the gut, drove home the cruel, senseless waste of it all.

With a shaking hand, she reached out, gently cutting Hannah's body free from the entangling wires of her gear. Anja lowered her to the ground, arranging her as respectfully as she could, trying not to look at the ragged edges of torn flesh, the stark white of exposed bone.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, the words feeling hollow, inadequate. "I'm so sorry. But I swear to you, your death will mean something. We'll make it mean something."

Blinking back tears, Anja forced herself to focus, to push past the grief and horror and keep moving forward. She quickly checked Hannah's gear, her heart sinking as she realized the gas canisters were nearly as depleted as her own. But it was still more than she had, and every little bit counted.

Anja carefully detached the canisters, hooking them to her own gear with fumbling, blood-slicked fingers. She hesitated for a moment, then reached for Hannah's blades as well, sliding them from their sheaths with a metallic rasp that seemed obscenely loud in the eerie quiet.

They were clean, the edges keen and sharp. Hannah had never even had a chance to use them.

With a heavy heart, Anja pushed on, the added weight of the gas and blades a reassuring presence at her sides.

As Anja swung closer to headquarters, the true scale of the battle unfolding became horrifyingly clear. The building was surrounded by Titans, a seething mass of grasping hands and gnashing teeth, it could only mean one thing: someone was still trapped inside.

And there, in the midst of the chaos, was the rogue Titan. Eren. He moved with a savage grace, his massive fists smashing through flesh and bone, his roars rattling the very foundations of the city.

But even he was only one against many, and Anja could see the tide of Titans threatening to overwhelm him.

She was in no state to fight, but she had to get inside, find anyone that could help - her friends, hopefully - and pray that they were still alive and willing to believe what she was going to tell them.

Anja scanned the building, her heart in her throat, searching for a way in. The main entrances were blocked, choked with rubble and writhing Titan bodies. But there, high up on the third floor, a shattered window gaped like an open wound, the glass glittering in the ashen light.

It was a risky shot, especially with her gear running on fumes. But it was her only chance.

With a deep breath, Anja launched herself off the rooftop, aiming for the window with every ounce of skill and precision she possessed. She felt the cables straining, the mechanisms sputtering and wheezing as they struggled to compensate for her weight and velocity.

For a heart-stopping moment, Anja thought she wasn't going to make it. That she'd miscalculated, that she'd fall short and go plummeting to her death, just another broken body littering the blood-soaked streets.

But then, with a final, desperate burst of gas, she crashed into the wall of the building, her gear latching onto the stone with a screech of metal.

All she had to do was reel herself in… With a sickening lurch, the gas sputtered out and died. Anja's eyes widened as she felt the cables go slack, the mechanisms grinding to a stop.

“Now?!”

She fell, desperately trying to cling to the cables, but she didn't have the strength to hold on. She hit the ground hard, the impact driving the air from her lungs, every bone in her body seeming to rattle with the force of it.

Anja lay there, stunned and gasping, black spots dancing across her vision. She could taste blood in her mouth, trickling down her chin.

Titans were coming, drawn by the noise, by the promise of fresh meat. Anja could hear them, feel the ground shake with their approach.

She staggered to her feet, biting back a scream as her injuries made themselves known with a vengeance. Her vision swam, the world tilting and spinning around her, but she blinked it away with stubborn determination.

Anja quickly scanned her surroundings, looking for a way into the building as the Titans closed in. Her eyes landed on a broken window and without hesitation, she threw herself at it, ignoring the sharp edges that tore at her clothes and skin.

For a brief moment, relief washed over her as she tumbled into the building. But it was short-lived. A Titan's hand burst through the shattered remnants of the window, its grasping fingers missing her by mere inches. Anja scrambled back, her blade flashing out, slicing through the Titan's fingers. The monster roared in pain, but did not relent.

Anja found herself in a storage room, cluttered with crates and barrels. The Titan, a 3-meter class, was squeezing its bulk through the window frame, the wood and stone cracking and splintering under its weight.

Anja scrabbled for her blades, her hands shaking, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The Titan, managed to force its way in, its massive bulk scraping against the frame, sending splinters of glass and wood billowing into the air.

She backed away, her eyes darting around the room, searching for an escape.

There! A door!

She lunged for it, her hand closing on the handle, but it wouldn't budge. She pushed, tried to pry it, but it was stuck fast. She was trapped like a rat in a cage.

The Titan threw itself at her, its mouth gaping. Anja ducked under its grasping hands, her blade sinking into its belly. The Titan's flesh parted like rotten fruit, steaming blood sluicing over her hands, her face.

But still, it kept coming, its recently stubbed fingers scrabbling at her, trying to pluck her from the floor.

Anja stumbled back, her boots slipping in the gore. The Titan advanced, its weight making the wooden floor groan and crack. She slid her blade up, with all the strength she had left, carving a deep furrow up the Titan's chest, managing to wrench herself out of the way.

The Titan's momentum carried it forward, its massive body crashing down onto the weakened floor. The wood splintered and gave way, unable to bear the creature's weight, taking down the door with it. A deafening crash echoed as the Titan fell through, Anja's blade was sitll lodged in its chest, the force of the fall slid the already battered Titan in half.

She stood there at the edge of the gaping hole, steam rising from it, gasping for breath, her whole body shaking. But she couldn't stop, not now. Eren was still out there.

She gathered her wits and made her way around the jagged edges of the hole, carefully avoiding the twisted, splintered boards that jutted out like teeth.

She stumbled into a hallway, one hand braced against the wall for support, leaving a smear of blood in her wake. The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, each step an eternity of pain and effort.

An explosion rang out, the sound deafening in the enclosed space. Anja flinched, instinctively trying to make herself a smaller target. It took her a moment to realize it was a gunshot, the noise still echoing in her ringing ears.

She rounded the corner and found herself face to face with a small group of cadets, their faces pale and strained in the dim light. They had blocked the corridor, guarding the hallway with rifles clutched white-knuckled in shaking hands.

One of them, a young man with wide, terrified eyes, had his gun trained directly at Anja, the barrel still smoking. He'd fired the shot, she realized dimly. He'd nearly taken her head off.

"What's going on?!" someone shouted, their voice high and tight with fear and confusion.

Familiar faces appeared from around the corner - Annie, Connie, and a few others she recognized from the 104th. They were all on high alert, their expressions tense and wary.

But when their eyes landed on Anja, their faces morphed into masks of pure, unadulterated shock. It was as if they were seeing a ghost, a specter risen from the depths of their worst nightmares.

Annie's eyes were wide, her mouth slack, her usual composure completely shattered. "...Anja?" she breathed, the name falling from her lips like a disbelieving whisper.

Connie was the first to find his voice, his words echoing the sentiment plain on all their faces.

"No fucking way."