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He was like a child that would never grow up. There was something stunted in his emotional growth, so he stayed forever young.
He didn't know where it had begun. Perhaps it was from birth? Or maybe before even that. Maybe 2000 years before he could truly live, he died.
He died as his fate was sealed due to an existence he couldn't acknowledge, could only try to understand. She was free now, wasn't she? Ymir Fritz. Free of her curse, of her nightmare, which shackled her to such a fate. She was free now. Certainly.
He was wondering as to who would take her place, her punishment.
Who was Ymir? Did he know her? Eight-year-old him surely didn't know her. He shouldn't know her, not yet, not now.
Eren was bored. Surely something interesting would happen soon, but it seemed that day wasn't this day once more.
On the other side of the sea someone sought to be a hero, the hero of the good eldians, even so Eren had not yet known - had not yet faced betrayal then betray himself - all he knew, that he was so very bored.
It felt almost bleary, laying down on the paved cement as he reached out to the sun. It was surprisingly quiet, only the birds' choirs filled the air as the usual blathering of other civilians was absent from his ears.
It felt odd, but the sunlight blinded him. Did he have something to do? He felt as if he was forgetting something, something very important, something he could just barely recall. Eren shielded his eyes from the rays once more. Did he not have a few other responsibilities? Yes, didn't he need to pick up the firewood? Finish the chores his mother gave him...
(It hurt thinking about his mother. He wasn't sure why. She was fine, wasn't she? He had done nothing to her...)
Maybe he should go see if Armin was alright, or listen to the bell signalling in for the survey corps, greet his father before the day ends... Yes, he needed to do something. So why wasn't he trying...?
Something felt odd. Missing, it felt serene yet strange. Like an endless dream of such beauty being depicted, shielding himself from the storm happening right outside his window.
Someone else was also missing from this vision. Should he be alone? Why wasn't he with Armin, or with Mikasa—
Who was that again? Mikasa Ackerman. How did he know that name existed? Ah, wasn't Ackerman one of his father's patients?
Yes, what was he thinking? He wanted to know nothing about the Survey Corps, they were foolish if they thought they could fight the titans. What were they even doing? Seeking freedom? Eren didn't care for the outside world, what lived beyond.
It seemed Armin did, though. He had such a lovely book, forbidden yet it contained something interesting on Armin's regard. Maybe Eren could listen to him read about it, maybe then he could change his mind.
Something felt strange. Eren's head hurt.
Did he not already know what was in Armin's book? What lies beyond?
The ocean was beautiful as he had thought, even more so, yet he couldn't bear to smile as he smelled the salty air. It felt like an indication of his ruin, of the destruction he would commit, of the lives he would destroy. Eren hated the ocean, the freedom he could never grasp, only seek in vain.
If he killed all of his enemies, would he finally be free? Perhaps it was inevitable that he couldn't manage even that, he could not kill every single one of his enemies as that would only mean he could grasp a singular feeling of freedom. So certainly, he would fail even that.
Eren was not allowed to be free. He didn't deserve it.
That was a confusing thought. Eight-year-old Eren had not yet heard of the contents of Armin's book, so he shouldn't yearn for the ocean at all, nor want freedom whatsoever. He is, however, like any other normal child, so Eren was curious as to what lay beyond the walls.
The history books said all of humanity had been confined to the walls, everything outside had been devoured by the titans - certainly, those books were a scam - but Eren didn't know that yet, nor had he suspected it. He didn't know anything, and as he learned, his mind broke and his will shattered. Maybe Eren didn't want to comprehend anything at all. He was only eight years old, after all, he shouldn't concern himself with other-worldly affairs.
Eren was currently eight, right?
Or maybe he was a little older, but the glimmering in Armin's eyes was always so similar, always the same. The first time Armin told him of the outside world and the sea, Eren knew he wasn't free. The last time, as Eren himself showed Armin the flaming water they could only dream of, his eyes glittered with a dream Eren could not still see. Never will see.
Maybe that was the scenery Eren could only search and long for. That scenery was Armin's dream, and Armin's vision was freedom. Eren could never discern it, so he would never be free.
What irony, for him, the one who always sought out freedom- to never achieve it? Eren really hated it.
But he was currently eight and ignorant and so very bored, hoping for something to change, something to happen. He didn't know any of that yet, right?
Eren smiled dozily, right arm once again reaching out to the sun as the other lay beneath his head.
"I wished to wipe it all away..."
And what a strange thought it was.
It was not an opinion that had ever crossed his mind before, and yet... it felt awfully familiar.
Maybe in the future, he would see, he would feel- at long last, empty heart filling with fury- with something hot as flames. In the past, present or future, would he ever feel this way? All he wanted was for a moment, just for a moment, he wanted to grasp the purpose he had always sought, maybe then the heat and the pain and the anger and the fire and the rage in his chest would finally cull and cease and leave him alone and yet—
And yet—
But he couldn't. He could never do so, never be allowed to, forever shackled to fate because-
Because—
It was an uncomfortable, crawling, aching and agonizing sensation that filled every corner of his soul and he hated it. He hated and despised and felt repulsed at everything, at Marley, at Paradis, at Reiner, Bertolt and Annie, (Eren didn't quite recognize any of those names, names that filled him with disgust and sorrow and grief. Not yet, not yet) at his father and even his mother, at the scouts and Jean and Connie and Sasha and Armin and Mikasa and he wanted to seize it all by the neck and squeeze and slaughter it and above all---
Above all other feelings of resentment and animosity---
He hated himself.
Because he loved them more--
--and still chose himself.
How could he possibly reconcile two unreconilable dreams and desires?
He couldn't, he couldn't, he didn't want to- yet he did- he wanted to live- he wanted to die- he wanted to kill and save and slaughter and be the savior of the world--- wanted to be significant and never forgotten- wanted to kill but never be condemned-- and what a hypocrite he was, screaming to the skies that Reiner and Bertolt were no longer human, had made the world hell-- then proceeded to do the same and so much worse and nevertheless wished to be treated no differently. Like a human being--
--when he was nothing but a monster.
Ymir - the one with a life too cruel, the one much too selfless for her own good- had said it herself. Eren was childish.
Eren wanted everything and could have nothing at all. Because how dare he? How dare he be so selfish and corrupt? It was disgusting and he knew- he knew he deserved nothing but misery and death. For his sins and troubles and acts of madness and evil.
"The reality of life beyond the walls... Was nothing like the world I'd dreamed about..."
And before, when his hands were not yet tainted with red sin and blood, not yet had he spoken evil to Mikasa and hurt Armin with his defiled fists- the two he held closest to his heart- he had the right to dream to wish and to want. But once he cast away his humanity- how dare he? How dare he feel or crave anything? How dare he plead forgiveness to a boy soon to be crushed underneath his foot?
His grief and sorrow was all hollow- he wasn't allowed to feel any of it, not a freak like him,- not when he was such a half-hearted piece of shit, falling and crying and pleading on his knees to a person who couldn't even understand what he was saying.
"It was nothing like the world I'd seen... in Armin's book..."
It was the book that gave Eren a reason to live- the book that killed him in the end. Forever and ever he chased for sights that didn't exist.
The true freedom lie in Armin's eyes, and it broke him to pieces and put him back together. He loathed himself and loved them so much, he could never see what they saw.
Armin and Mikasa, he loved them so much. They were the ones that brought meaning to his life, and could never imagine living in a world without them. He loved them.
And yet—
"When I learned humanity survived beyond the walls... I was so.... disappointed...."
He hated himself.
"If I knew this was the price for freedom... I would have never payed it."
Eren was a child. He crushed the world into misery, families, innocents, children and babies, he killed them all while revelling in a warped frame of freedom, what lie beneath the clouds in his dreams was death and destruction and yet he turned the other way.
He wanted to wipe everything away.
"Eren... I bet deep down inside, you must think you're always right."
He had always closed his ears but opened his eyes.
His whole life he could only see in black and white. And when his view was challenged— Eren didn't know. Because he was eight years old and his head was in the clouds, waiting for something to happen.
Floch's honesty was not a bad quality of his, he knew his place in the world and called it like it is. Or- how he saw it, his view often taking radical-to-wrong as he called out for meaningless cruelty.
He was loyal to his perceived version of Eren- of which he honestly couldn't care less. Floch and the Yeagerists were just another pawn and puzzle piece. But Floch knew one thing for sure.
"That's why you never gave up. Like a little kid, you won't ever listen to reason."
His whole life, Eren did not grow. Was it his fault or fate's? He'd never know. He was called humanity's hope by the scouts, hailed a devil by Floch- when he was nothing but a child, seeing what he wished to see and forgetting everything else. And he grew and he matured yet he never really did, he always came back to the dream he couldn't envision.
Though perhaps Floch was also wrong, eternally chasing after a devil to save the world- with his dying breaths pledging allegiance to an island and a devil he knew nothing about, cared for on the most meager of means, simply through blood ties and name.
A follower to the very end, respectable only in the fact he recognized his own cowardice and pointlessness, dedication to his cause steadfast. Ignorance and idiocy plagued him, because, didn't he know? No person could possibly be a devil, no matter how forsaken their humanity, no matter how disillusioned with their morals, they remained held back and shackled to their earthly and selfish desires.
A devil had nothing but evil inside of them, their desires non-existent. A devil did not care for anybody - even themselves.
No matter what Floch sought him to be- Erwin Smith was not a devil. He was a selfish man who acted heroically in the end, but could only think of his lost dreams to his dying breath. He fooled his comrades and his loved ones and even fooled himself, dedicating his heart to humanity as it corrupted into a lie that built a mountain of corpses underneath. The Commander was rotten with guilt.
Even the Goddess Ymir was not a devil, only a girl who caused destruction and misery all caught up in her own illusions. She yearned to be free, plagued with regrets and sorrow, chained by a master in her love, and finding solace in death.
Even so, her punishment did not stop. Shackled to a world beyond death, she worked to infinity- watching the world destroy itself, friend turning to foe and kin killing parent, dissipating to smoke only once someone took her place. (...Who? Who took her place? It felt like it was on the tip of Eren's tongue. He knew, yet he couldn't quite fathom. He felt sorry for that person regardless, being trapped in a fate worse than death.)
"You're not slave or a god.. you're just a human being."
And perhaps those were the words Eren yearned to be told himself.
Humanity's hope, a monster, a devil, a god, a force of good or evil- Eren was none and he was nothing. He was a human, and all his life, when he died and was born once more with titan powers, that's all he wished to be.
The ones who treated him like so were Mikasa & Armin, the ones he loved yet had cursed with responsibility and pain, casting them away with cruelty and hurt. Eren deserved nothing, their love too pure for somebody like him.
(It was them who killed him in the end. Surely, he should've trusted them to stop a beast. He wishes them all the best.
He wishes they'd all suffer like he did.
He hopes they never do.)
Eren resents himself.
But Eren loved Armin and he loved Mikasa all the same, the one who saw beauty in this cruel world, the one he could only yearn for as he knew she deserved everything. The one who loved him and killed him and lived for herself to the very end.
...Who was Mikasa Ackerman?
-------
Eren was bored. Surely, something interesting would happen soon.
Where was he again? He felt he had pressing matters to attend to. But the sun was blazing and nobody spoke, only the birds chirps filling his ears. Was time frozen? It felt like it had been a lifetime here for him.
Eren was bored.
Oh well. He continued to daydream.
Mikasa Ackerman was so much stronger than him. He hated her. He loved her. He wished she'd only love him. Even after he died- he couldn't stand to be forgotten.
But maybe she should loathe him- she killed him after all- he deserved nothing and no one and he hated it so much and he couldn't stand it, to be forgotten by her. Who was he to dictate her? He was nothing, he begged her even so to forget about him, pretending to be righteous when he was just selfish and yet-
Mikasa was the one who made her choice in the end. Eren promised to wrap the red scarf around her forever and ever, yet Mikasa wrapped it around herself in his final moments.
Eren was disgusting. He had truly wished - even for a moment - that she'd be miserable, never forget him. He hated it, he hated himself.
A voice snickered in his head, it sounded taunting, but also familiar.
It sounded like his own.
"I'm sure she'll be happy. Forget about you, just like you wanted. Find another, stop caring for you altogether..."
Eren jolted upwards. He didn't want that at all.
"How pitiful. One of your last wishes hoping to be the only one in her heart, and yet she loves another just as soon. How pitiful you are, truly I pity you."
Eren grimaced. He didn't want any pity. He also felt he didn't deserve it.
How truly pathetic of him, to yearn for life while he lead others to their death. They hadn't wanted it either, hadn't wished to die, had dreams and goals and wishes to achieve and yet it was stripped from them by Eren himself, so why should he get any say in the matter?
Yes, he was so very childish, his own disappointment leading to such destruction... and for what? A few hundred years of peace? Saving the eldians? And yet just the same the cycle would repeat, only now he was the once stuck here... How pitiful, for another 2000 years? Or maybe more, or maybe less, or maybe forever or never.
It wasn't up to Eren, he was not in control. Once more his fate would be controlled by another, just a puppet in a play who could try and change their fate yet be laughed at when it is revealed he truly cannot do so.
Or maybe it was easier to believe so, than to take responsibility. There was a road Eren chose to take and not once looked back.
And he cried and he begged.
"It's not my fault, can't you see?" Eren begged to himself, to whoever would listen to his pleas, begged for forgiveness and understanding, what he didn't deserve.
"It's not my fault. It's for you, it's for them, it's for Armin and Mikasa." Who was he trying to convince but himself?
"It's to make you the heroes of this world, for Eldia, but even so... it's for something more..."
"If you hadn't stopped me, I think... I would have still flattened this world."
It was for the world, it was for them, it was for her or for him, for those he adored and for those he despised but truly-
Truly—
—truly it was all for himself.
Armin and Mikasa grew up, and they lived. Eren decided not to grow, could not grow, so he died.
Eren sought for nothing in this life more than freedom- for the sea- for their safety- But he couldn't have any of it. He could never do so, never be allowed to, forever shackled to fate and himself because-
Because—
Because he was dead.
And this was his punishment.
Fingers threading through the blue sand, eyes dark like those of Ymir's, a slave, a slave to fate, a slave to the world, a slave to himself.
He was Ymir and Ymir was him. She was free now, wasn't she? Melting into smoke as she lived and passed with her regrets, But he wouldn't ever be so, never be liberated, because he never did regret.
"To you, 2000 years from now,
-to whomever will take my place."
Eren hated everything, but he hated himself so much more.