Chapter Text
Chapter One
First there was Darkness and Death.
Tell me, you’ve been suffering all this time.
Silence.
I’ve probably been like this since the day I was born…
Innumerable noises.
I just keep moving forward… until all my enemies are destroyed.
Cracks and fissures.
My name is Eren Yeager.
Chaotic Dissonance.
My goal is to protect the people of Pardis Island - the place I was born.
Pure Agony.
I will not stop …
… Until every last life beyond our shores is wiped out.
And then there was Light and Rebirth.
It was a city that never slept.
It was a cesspit of criminal activity, driven by a host of depraved outliers. Its skies were murky and its waters were poisoned. The sound of gunshots and pained screams were a common occurrence. The air was putrid, heavy and polluted. Smog covered the skies. The landscape was barren. The dreary atmosphere filled every inhabitant with the urge to move faster, always haunted with the need to look over their shoulder in fear because oftentimes a shadow followed.
This inhospitable city was renowned in name and reputation.
Gotham.
A thin teen made his way through the decrepit streets of the cold city, stepping over piles of trash and old newspapers as he walked through the dangerous streets of the East End district. Murmurs drifted by him and he pulled his thin coat tightly around him. His thin frame rattled from the cold harsh winds and he stared straight ahead with a glare. His dark eyes took in the armed loiters at the abandoned bus stop.
Rust decorated the walls of the streets and wooden plaques covered abandoned establishments. The teen placed a hand on his revolver in warning, exchanging a glare with a burly pedestrian as he passed through the Bowery with quick steps.
His footsteps echoed as he moved across the cracked asphalt. He breathed evenly as he made it closer to his rundown apartment. It was a debilitated structure that stood against the test of time. It was all he had and he called it home. He walked past the familiar corner store - waving a hand in greeting at The Network who nodded back grimly.
The air was different.
The streets and their inhabitants felt the absence deeply.
It had only been a week of his silence but the city felt it in her bones. It was quieter. He hated it. Jeremiah made his way past the group and headed into his cold apartment. He stared down at the newspaper release with a frown as he deposited his keys on the counter.
Phantom, missing or dead?
He shook his head and turned away, dark brown eyes falling on the sketches of his latest project.
Bright lights seeped through the darkness.
Memories overlapped one another, creating a cacophony of noise and disequilibrium.
The Paths rumbled in the distance as the figure gained consciousness.
The grounds of the Paths continued to tremble, unsteady and unstable, a reflection of the one who departed from them. He was slipping at the seams, internally and externally. Everything hurt tremendously. Shouts and chaos reigned around him as his green eyes opened lethargically.
He inhaled, gasping in pain, as he turned over, coughing out thick phlegm. The teen stared up hazily from his spot on the cold wet floor, blinking slowly against the fluorescent lights.
Where am I?
He blinked through the haze, white and black colours engaged together in a flurry of quick movements. He struggled to follow the scene before him. Nothing made sense. The Founder was gone but her whispers remained in his consciousness. He felt shaky, weak and drained.
His body did not feel his own.
Why?
He was a stranger in his own flesh.
“Your body grows weaker.” Ymir continued softly. “It has the strength to heal but… you don’t want to heal…”
He was Back.
But it all felt wrong.
Imposter.
He was a liar.
“They will all leave me anyways if they learned the truth. They don’t probably care that much. They’re busy with their own lives. They’ll forget me in time… I don’t deserve to keep going.”
He continued to tremble.
Something was wrong, wrong, wrong.
Nothing fit right anymore.
“If the Paths fall, your chance to revive is gone. They are splintering because you are breaking within yourself.”
Blue.
Red.
Yellow.
A billowing cape of darkness.
Too many colours all at once filled his vision.
Voices.
His name was being called.
It was familiar and yet it wasn’t.
Who is calling me?
“Find it!” he yelled, his voice growing fainter. “Find your reason to live!”
A name appeared through his consciousness.
Adam.
It meant something.
Brother.
It meant everything.
The innumerable sounds filtered to his ears. It was loud and chaotic. Gunshots erupted in rapid succession and he heard the sound of pained grunts and the crash of objects hitting the ground. A hazy brown leather jacket rushed towards him - Eren! - and he reeled back in confusion. The helmeted man was intercepted and he heard a frustrated yell of anger.
A memory slipped past him in a haze as he watched the struggle around him. He had a boy waiting for him at home. An image of curly hair and an impish smile. Adam. He felt the bile rise as the image overlapped with another. A more grotesque image of a young boy crushed to death under his command took its place. Halil.
No.
He blinked his green eyes hazily, seeing a large figure standing in front of him.
A black cape billowed in his sight as the figure moved defensively.
It was the Dark Knight of Gotham.
Another shout sounded out and a blur of blue and black enveloped his vision. Red and black joined the colors and he blinked in confusion at the rapid movements. Arrows and bullets littered the grounds.
The waves receded from his vision. The shattered earth faded from his memory. His last moments flashed before his eyes - a second life that started abruptly and unwillingly, cut short too suddenly.
He had Returned.
Eren Yeager rolled on his side and heaved, retching more copious amounts of liquid.
He ignored the voices around him and he sat up shakily. He toppled forward on unsteady limbs. Weak. He gritted his teeth angrily at his pathetic state. The tremors ran through his body and he shivered from the sudden cold. He felt hot and cold simultaneously. Sweat began to cover his body rapidly. His clothes stuck to him like a second skin. They felt too big. His limbs did not respond to him as he attempted to sit up.
Weak.
His eyes blurred in frustration and he flinched from the sudden feel of hands on his body. He inched away shakily, eyes wide as he looked at the blurry figures. Voices drifted around him and he gazed around frantically. Screams filtered nearby - familiar and daunting - and he clutched his head in pain.
It was a reminder and a confirmation.
The Paths remained unsteady.
He remained unsteady.
He felt the cracks within the tremors in his body. His head was pounding and the sound of waves and the earth splintering in the Paths filled his mind again. Returning relentlessly. It hurt. He had made his choice - the one he regretted the least - and yet he felt displaced. He was untethered. Unmoored.
Why?
Nothing made sense.
Eren looked at his surroundings in desperation. He needed to get out. It hurt to breathe. The figures pulled back as more gunshots and shouts rang out. Loud clanging continued. Mechanical whirring magnified in volume. Eren gazed at the wet ground with hazy eyes. He turned away from the chaos and crawled towards the air vent.
He grabbed the metal bars and tugged in desperation. The vent moved downwards. It was a dark and long fall. Wind blew upwards ominously through the narrow space. It felt like an endless drop. He did not care. He wanted the screams to end. The splintering of the earth would not stop.
Shut up, shut up, shut up!
Too noisy.
Too loud.
Too much.
Eren ignored the alarmed shouts - STOP! - and he snapped the bars with shaky hands.
He broke through the metal barrier, limbs shaking, and he plunged into the darkness.
The fall was long and short.
It felt like short moments that stretched on forever.
Memories flashed before his eyes as his body moved downwards. The screams sounded far away. The gunshots popped off faintly from the laboratory he left behind. He could not see a thing as he continued falling. His hand touched the stone wall as he continued downwards, uncaring as the scenery shifted. His palms burnt from the friction. His skin began to bleed.
Light filtered through his vision and he blinked at the murky waters below. Eren cringed at the familiar sight. Sewage and waste greeted him. He slammed his fist into the wall, breaking the stone surface in desperation. He held on, body hovering over the dirty waters. Eren pulled his body upwards with a pained groan, falling into a dry tunnel.
He rolled on his side, body shaking, as the rats moved closer to him. He slammed a palm on the concrete and the pests scattered to the corners, keeping close to his body, eyeing him hungrily. Eren crawled his way through the tunnel, moving deeper. He eyed his surroundings, listening as the sounds grew closer. He heard the whizz of a grappling gun and the familiar voices followed.
The heroes were here.
He felt his eyes grow hot.
Liar.
He kept his body still, pressing a hand on his mouth as the pair of vigilantes moved past his tunnel. He retreated further into the dark and he wrapped his arms around his knees as his body grew hotter.
Footsteps sounded close by and he held his breath.
He looked into the faint light, seeing the familiar colors of red and black. The leather jacket. He felt his heart clench at the sight. He had no right. Imposter. The footsteps paused. Eren closed his eyes tightly. Go away. The footsteps moved on, circling the premises and searching. He did not wish to be found.
Leave me alone. He pleaded silently.
Eren pulled away from the stone wall, moving further into the dark, away from the footsteps.
He moved further down the wet asphalt.
The sound of cars grew closer and the footsteps of pedestrians drifted to his ears. He eyed the sealed manhole and he reached forward shakily. Crystal tendrils moved from his palms in thin wispy blades, slicing clean through the metal noiselessly. Eren pushed out of the manhole, cringing at the sudden jarring noise.
He held his breath, waiting.
Nothing.
He pulled his body upwards into the dark night.
Eren Yeager inhaled Gotham’s putrid air.
He was back.
The faint scratches of the pen paused in the dimly lit apartment and the teen raised his head warily. His hand slipped to his revolver and he made his way to his fire-escape. He clicked the safety off and inched closer, taking aim at the dark figure that stood in front of his windows. It was late at night and visitors were unwelcome at this hour.
The tall figure rapped his knuckles against the glass door intentionally in a series of patterns.
Jeremiah lowered his gun in shock. He rushed forward and threw the glass door open. His brown eyes widened in disbelief as his friend and older brother stood before him, shaking and trembling in wet clothes.
“Bossman!” He cried out, grabbing onto the older teen. He pulled him inside the cold apartment.
He looked behind him, surveying the dark streets warily. He pulled the door closed, pulling the curtains behind him. His friend collapsed onto the floor, landing on his hands and knees with a winded wheeze. The teen rushed towards him, expression nervous as he took in his form.
Eren did not look good.
The teen helped him up, hands careful as he led him to his couch. He laid him down, falling to his knees next to him.
“What happened?” He whispered.
Eren looked at him as numerous expressions ran through his perspiring face. None of them were good. Jeremiah swallowed thickly and he ran his hand over his friend’s body carefully. He breathed a sigh of relief. There was no visible injury that needed patching.
“Adam?” Eren asked quietly.
Jeremiah fell silent. He shook his head and reached forward, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“He’s good. He’s in the safest place possible. Drake took him home to the Waynes.”
Eren fell quiet.
He closed his eyes, whispering quietly. “It’s for the better.”
Jeremiah frowned at the words. He opened his mouth and snapped it shut as he eyed his friend’s passed out form. He cursed as the heat emanated from his body and he rushed to his kitchen. He returned with a wet towel and aspirin. He took notice of the dried blood on his friend’s hands and frowned in concern. He grabbed his first aid kit and inspected the injured flesh of his palms.
Jeremiah sat vigilant by his unconscious friend’s side until he got called into work.
The smell of chemicals wafted through the air - heavy and thick. The teen eyed the charred grounds and the molded sign - Toxic spills - He made his way through the familiar grounds, eyeing the large puddle of black bubbling substance.
He made his way into the abandoned factory, moving past the rats that scurried past him. His footsteps echoed through the empty hallways. There were no squatters in the vicinity. The graffiti was old and faded. No inhabitants dared to come to the abandoned building. It was too dangerous. His eyes watered from the fumes and he pushed open the closed door.
Eren stared at the pile of stacked boxes. He eyed the untouched circuit board. His eyes fell on the theater mask and black trenchcoat. He picked up the mask - it was an unused one. Unsmiling. He lowered it, leaving it to the dust and mites. He turned and made his way to the rooftop, staring at the skyline.
The large W of Wayne Enterprises greeted him - light bright as a beacon.
Adam.
He eyed the tall skyscrapers in the far distance, shrouded by the smog. The W was very distinct and visible, even among all the miserable greyness.
Eren turned away from the bright colours and slid down to his knees.
He sat on the ground, huddled his knees to his chest, and watched from the abandoned rooftop as the Bat signal lit up in the smoggy skies above.