Attack on Titan: A Blacksmith's Tale

Chapter 11: The Price of Survival

The rain didn't last very long in the city of Trost. Within twenty minutes, it had subsided, but its work was finally done. The blood of the slain soldiers had spread throughout the city like a river, as if wanting to constantly remind the survivors that sacrifices were made today. They didn't need such reminders, for the memories of their comrades getting killed by the Titans were branded into their memories.

The 104th gathered on a collection of rooftops, exhausted and traumatized. They had seen so many horrible things today that they would never forget. Lives snuffed out at a moment's notice, screams of the dying echoing in their minds, and the thought that they, too, would suffer the same fate.

"Hey, Jean," Connie said. He was one of the few that put aside the trauma. "What are we gonna do?"

The brown-haired teen didn't even look at him, finding the roof a far more interesting sight. "We can't do anything. They finally gave us the order to withdraw, and we're all out of gas. Of course." He sighed. "I can't believe this is how it's gonna end...because of those damned cowards."

"You mean the supply depot?" Connie asked, confused. "What is going on? Where are they!?"

"They all lost their will to fight," Jean explained. "I can understand why...but they abandoned their duty to supply us, barricading themselves inside HQ. And, of course, Titans have swarmed the place which means we can't get the gas ourselves."

Connie was getting more aggravated by the situation. "Then why are we waiting? We gotta go! Start thinning their numbers so we have a chance! Sitting here on this roof is completely pointless. Eventually, the Titans are gonna come for us."

Jean didn't say anything and only gave him a cold look.

"We don't have much gas left," he went on. "We'll just waste what little we've got if we try to run. And without our mobility, we're completely screwed."

"You're using your head for once, Connie," he noted. "Nice going, but I'm not sure if we've got the numbers needed to pull this thing off. The veterans in the vanguard force have all been killed. How exactly do a bunch of rookies pull off a suicide mission like this? I mean, let's assume half our forces survive the initial assault. Then what? The supply room is probably crawling with Titans in the three to four-meter range. I don't see us accomplishing much there."

The words sunk in as Connie lost the drive he had. "It's... hopeless."

Jean let out a sigh. "God, what a dull life this turned out to be." He looked up for a second. "Any sign of him?"

He shook his head. "Annie asked me the same question not too long ago."

Jean chuckled a little. "Bastard's too stubborn to die. If anyone has a chance of making it, it's him."

On another part of the roof, Sasha attempted to rally the troops. "Come on, guys. We can do it! Right? Let's go. If we all work together, we can make this happen. I know we can. All right? I'll take the lead."

Her words fell on deaf ears. The cadets were too traumatized to even move. They had seen horrors they never imagined in their worst nightmares.

Discouraged, she looked around for a kindred spirit and found Armin sitting in a corner, looking down. She quickly ran over to him. "Armin, it's time to go!"

He was just like the rest of them: petrified and motionless.

Nearby, Annie kept a sharp eye out for any sign of Dillon. She knew he wasn't dead given that their mind link was still open, but her attempts at contacting him mentally were met with silence. There were lots of reasons why that could be, so she kept her ears and eyes out.