The sun slowly rose from the east, casting its golden light across the land. As beams of dawn spilled through the cracked window, another day in the Walls began.
Shin lay sprawled on his small, creaky bed, his limbs still sore from last night's training. He had pushed himself hard, as always—swinging hammers, lifting heavy ingots, and perfecting his form under the watchful eye of Uncle Harry. But no matter how tired he was, he couldn't afford to slack off.
A flicker of light slipped through the half-open window, illuminating the towering wall in the distance. The sight jolted him awake. The massive, ever-present barrier served as a brutal reminder: he wasn't just training to survive—he was preparing for what would come.
He dragged himself upright with a grunt, washed quickly, and changed into his simple work clothes. As he opened the front door, two familiar figures blocked his way.
"Eren? Mikasa? What are you two doing here?" he asked, blinking in surprise.
Eren grinned sheepishly. "Mom sent us to get you. She said you haven't been over in forever—and it's breakfast time."
Mikasa, quiet as ever, offered a soft, "Good morning, Shin," her expression blank but her voice warm.
Shin smiled. Mikasa had already begun to grow into her looks—elegant, composed, and unshakable. It was easy to see she'd grow up to be a beauty. But her constant silence and the way she shadowed Eren made her hard to read.
"I've just been a little busy," Shin said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"No matter how busy you are, you still have to eat!" Eren insisted, grabbing his arm. "Come on. Dad and Mom are waiting."
Shin chuckled. Free food from the Jaeger household was not something he could afford to pass up, especially with how much he'd been eating lately. The walk to their house was short—familiar cobblestones underfoot, warm morning chatter in the streets, the occasional barking dog or clanging gate.
The moment they stepped inside, Carla Jaeger turned from the stove and fixed Shin with a feigned glare.
"Little Shin! You still remember how to get here, huh?" she scolded, though her eyes were kind. "If I hadn't sent Eren and Mikasa to drag you out of bed, you'd never show your face!"
Grisha, seated at the table with a worn medical manual in hand, let out a quiet sigh. He looked both amused and exasperated.
Shin laughed awkwardly, lowering his head. "Sorry, Auntie Carla. I've been working at the forge a lot lately. I guess time just gets away from me."
"Too busy to visit family, huh?" Carla's tone softened, but there was still a note of concern in it.
Then, almost as if something had just occurred to her, she turned serious. "Shin… is it true what Eren told me? That you're planning to enlist next year? The Survey Corps?"
The air seemed to freeze.
Grisha lowered his book. Mikasa's brows furrowed. Eren looked down, fidgeting nervously.
Shin straightened, his smile fading. "Yes. That's what I've decided."
"No! Absolutely not!" Carla's voice was sharp with emotion. "Do you know how dangerous it is out there? Most of them don't even come back! I don't want to hear another word about it."
Shin's heart warmed at her worry. It was moments like this—these displays of unspoken love—that reminded him how lucky he was in this life. Despite the towering walls and looming threats, he wasn't alone.
Harry, Martha, and now the Jaeger family—they all treated him like one of their own.
Even Mikasa, whose heart seemed tethered to Eren, cast him a quiet glance now, eyes clouded with something that might have been worry.
Carla crossed her arms. "Shin, are you even listening? You're smiling like this is a joke."
Shin bowed his head in apology, then lifted it again, his tone resolute. "I understand your concern. I really do. But I've made up my mind."
Grisha finally spoke, his voice low and careful. "You're still young, Shin. Only thirteen. Next year, fourteen. There's still time to choose something else. You don't have to go down this path."
"I do," Shin said firmly. "I want to join the Survey Corps."
"Why?" Carla demanded. "Why would you choose something so reckless?"
The room fell quiet, all eyes on him.
Shin exhaled slowly and answered, voice calm but unwavering. "Because I don't want to live the rest of my life behind these walls like livestock. The world is vast—and I want to see it. I want to see the ocean, the rivers, the mountains, the animals we've never even dreamed of."
He paused, then looked at each of them in turn. "And most of all, I want to understand. Why the Titans exist. Why they hunt us. And how we can end it. If we don't look for answers, we'll never have peace."
As he spoke, he shot a fleeting glance toward Grisha.
The man's expression didn't change, but Shin noticed the briefest flicker in his eyes—a flash of tension, like someone caught off guard. He recovered almost instantly, but Shin had seen it.
He knows something. Shin made a mental note.
Carla opened her mouth to argue, but no words came. The determination in Shin's eyes gave her pause. He looked young, but he carried himself like someone much older—someone who had already made peace with a hard decision.
She closed her mouth and looked away.
Silence settled again.
Then—
"I'm joining too!" Eren blurted, fists clenched. "If Shin's going, then I'm going too!"
"Absolutely not!" Carla shot back instantly, grabbing his ear.
"Why?! You're not yelling at him!"
"Because you're my son, and I said no!" she snapped.
"It's not fair!" Eren grumbled.
Shin chuckled as Eren looked over at him for support.
He looked away, pretending not to notice.
Still nursing his stinging ear, Eren sulked. "Ugh, this is so hard for me…"
Meanwhile, Shin's eyes returned to Grisha. The man was silent, lost in thought. There was something guarded behind his eyes. Something heavy. Shin could feel it in the air.
What are you thinking, Grisha Yaeger? What secrets are you hiding… and when will they come to light?
---
Later that morning, Shin stepped out of the Jaeger home with a full stomach and a heavy heart.
Carla still hadn't approved of his decision, though she hadn't forced the issue. She wasn't his mother, after all. Her ability to object could only go so far. Grisha, in the end, had simply nodded and offered him a single sentence:
"If that's your decision, then I respect it."
Shin had caught the meaning behind the words—the quiet approval of someone who had also made impossible choices.
Eren, meanwhile, had received a double blow: Carla's scolding and Mikasa's silent glare of death. He wouldn't bring up the Survey Corps again any time soon.
Good, Shin thought as he sprinted through the streets toward Harry's blacksmith shop. One less thing to worry about.
He pushed himself harder, letting the morning wind whip across his face. When he finally reached the shop, his chest was heaving, his shirt clinging to him with sweat—but the familiar system chime rang in his head:
[Explosive Power +1]
Worth it.
He grinned. The system—his mysterious golden finger—was finally starting to reveal its rules. With the right training methods, he could improve specific stats each day. Once daily per category. No more than that. But the progress reset each morning, like clockwork.
With over three months until the conscription trials, that meant dozens of stat boosts. Dozens of steps closer to a superhuman body that could match the demands of the battlefield.
Of course, as his stats rose, it would take more effort to break his limits. The grind would only get harder. But that was a problem for tomorrow.
Right now, he had work to do.
"Shin, you're here already?" Aunt Martha's voice called out from the doorway. She carried a tray covered with cloth.
"Don't come so early, dear. Your uncle Harry's still snoring."
"I wanted to get started early."
She smiled and held up the tray. "Eat something first. You didn't skip breakfast again, did you?"
"Well—" Shin scratched his cheek, caught between truth and politeness.
"Come on, try my cooking," she urged warmly.
With a sigh and a smile, Shin accepted the second breakfast of the day. He ate it without complaint, savoring the moment.
When Harry finally arrived, still yawning, he raised a brow at the half-eaten breakfast on the table. His eyes wandered to Shin at the forge, sweat already pouring off his skin.
"...He ate mine again," Harry muttered.
But he said nothing more. Instead, he sat down and finished the leftovers with a grunt.
The forge blazed to life. Hammer struck iron.
"Ding—ding—ding—ding—"
The rhythmic sound of blacksmithing echoed through the shop, sweat running down Shin's taut muscles like rain. The fire reflected off his skin, casting him in bronze hues—young, but unyielding.
Harry watched in silence, memories flickering.
When Shin had first come to apply for the job, Harry had nearly turned him away on sight—too young, too scrawny, lacking any promise of real strength. He'd only been thirteen, and his frame didn't hint at much growth potential.
But Shin had proven him wrong. His strength rivaled grown men. More than that, he had discipline, focus, and a will of steel.
Now, Harry walked forward and spoke gruffly.
"Kid, want to learn proper blacksmithing from me?"
Shin blinked. "Aren't I already learning?"
"You're doing grunt work," Harry said, crossing his arms. "What I'm offering is the real deal. Forging. Craftsmanship. Mastery. You in?"
Shin hesitated.
He hadn't come here to become a blacksmith. This job was a means to an end—a way to condition his body and sharpen his stats. Learning the trade in depth would take time... time he didn't have.
He looked into Harry's eyes—earnest, expectant—and felt a pang of guilt.
Just as he opened his mouth to politely decline—
Ding! Achievement Triggered: [I Am a Little Blacksmith]New Quest Activated.
Shin blinked.
You've got to be kidding me.
---
A/N: Please Leave A Comment Or Drop A Powerstone It'll mean alot to me...