[Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck START WWWWWRRRRITEEEE WIITEEEEEEEEE]
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Location: Contested Territories, Military Kingdom of Marley
Year: 853
Time: Spring
It had been three years since the war between the Mid-East Allied Forces and the fractured, reeling Military Kingdom of Marley had begun.
Three years of attrition and a brutal tug-of-war with no dignity.
The Mid-East had seized the advantage early. And they hadn't let go.
Even with Titans fielded in desperation by Marley, their impact had dulled. No longer surgically applied, not without the Beast Titan's screams. Zeke Jaeger's disappearance—and eventual confirmed capture—had severed Marley's ability to coordinate pure Titans effectively. The creatures had gone from being precise instruments of terror to chaotic, often self-destructive forces.
Many friendly fire incidents followed.
By 852, the Mid-East pushed Marley back beyond the Suez.
Southern cities—like Kharzu, Belzet, even the outer districts of Lubana—were cratered ruins.
The skies above them howled with planes, and the ground below was littered with mines. Marleyan civilians had become nomads, pushing further and further inland in search of safety that no longer existed.
Refugee camps turned into slums.
Slums into mass graves...
And all the enemies of Marley cheered at the suffering of the innocents.
"..."
The wind blew hot and dry across the dunes. A hazy shimmer hung above the sand.
Shiro crested a hill, the folds of his desert cloak whipping lightly behind him. His face was mostly obscured by a patterned scarf, sun-bleached from months of use. The cloth rustled softly as he scanned the view ahead.
A small village sat nestled in the crook of two ridges—a scattering of sandstone homes and half-dug defensive pits.
Smoke curled lazily from chimneys.
"...No signs of immediate hostility. We're here..."
He turned slightly and gestured down the slope.
"Go ahead. Get them underground. Fast."
The people behind him moved quickly—a few hundred in total, most women and children, a few limping men.
Eldians, some wearing armbands, some not, having discarded them a while back.
Some of the children ran ahead, dragging threadbare bags or clinging onto the hems of exhausted mothers.
A small boy tripped, dropping his stuffed dog into the dust, prompting Shiro to walk over and pick it up, brushing it off.
The boy stared up at him. His mother called to him in a thick Mid-East language, urging him to say thanks.
Shiro crouched and offered the toy with one hand.
"Not a problem," he said in their tongue, "but you should hurry. It's too hot out."
The mother blinked, surprised. Then smiled, bowing slightly in gratitude. Her son mirrored her, muttering a shy "thank you" before grabbing the stuffed animal and running off.
YOU ARE READING
Classroom of The Elite x AOT: Wax Wings
Fanfiction[Crossposted onto A03 under the same name] Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, the Masterpiece of the White Room has gone missing, disappearing into thin air one night before the end of spring break. His whereabouts are unknown, his condition even less so. In his...
