The ground shakes.
A low, thunderous rumble rolls through the Trost District, echoing off the stone walls like the heartbeat of a dying god. Dust rains from the battlements as the soldiers on Wall Rose look up in horror. From the gaping wound in the outer gate, steam curls upward — hot, thick, suffocating.
The Titans are pouring in.
Screams rise from below as the first civilians flee through narrow streets, their footsteps lost in the chaos. The smell of burning oil and fear clings to the air. On the wall, the new graduates freeze — their training, their bravado, all crashing into the brutal reality that this is no drill.
Armin's breath hitches, his fingers trembling against the handles of his ODM gear. "T-The Titans… they're really—"
"They're here," Eren says, cutting him off. His voice is low, steady. No panic. No fear. Just cold, deliberate control. His green eyes lock on the writhing silhouettes in the distance, each one lumbering closer. So it begins again.
He steps forward, wind whipping through his short brown hair, the metallic gleam of his blades catching the light. "Armin," he says quietly, "stay close. Don't overthink. Just move when I move."
Armin swallows hard, nodding. His whole body is shaking, but there's a spark in his eyes — trust.
"Eren," Mikasa says sharply, pulling her scarf tighter. "We should wait for orders."
He glances back at her, a ghost of a grin on his lips. "Mikasa… since when do Titans wait for orders?"
Before she can respond, the air splits with another deafening crack. Lightning flashes from the ruined gate — and the second wave of Titans stumbles through, their grotesque faces twisted into mockeries of human joy. The sun catches on their steaming flesh.
Ymir curses under her breath. "We're really doing this now?"
Eren draws his blades. "Now's as good a time as any."
The squad leaps from the wall in a coordinated burst of motion, gas canisters hissing, cables firing with a sharp thwip! as the ODM gear propels them into the smoke-filled air.
Below, the Titans swarm through the breach like ants through sugar.
Armin flinches mid-flight, narrowly dodging a grasping hand. "T-They're everywhere!"
"Focus!" Mikasa shouts, slicing through the nape of a three-meter Titan in one smooth arc. The creature falls face-first into the dirt, its body dissolving into steam. Her landing is flawless, silent.
But Eren… Eren lands harder. He doesn't bother with elegance — his boots crash into a Titan's shoulder as he drives both blades into its neck. Flesh splits. Steam explodes. The Titan collapses under its own weight.
Blood spatters across his uniform. He doesn't even blink.
Five years. Five years since Shiganshina. And still, they haven't learned.
He kicks off, whirling midair, his mind sharpening like a blade. Every movement is measured. He doesn't fight with rage — not anymore. He fights with purpose.
"Eren!" Armin calls, struggling to keep pace. "There's too many!"
"Then we kill more," Eren replies, calm but burning. "Don't stop moving!"
Farther back, Jean watches from a rooftop, his jaw tight. "He's actually charging in… idiot."
Connie gulps beside him, eyes darting between the Titans and the evacuation routes. "Yeah, but… he's doing it. And people are following him."
"People are crazy," Jean mutters, but he draws his blades anyway. His pulse hammers against his ribs. "Let's go."
Sasha tightens her harness. "We're not letting Eren show us up again, right?"
"Right!" Connie shouts, forcing a grin that doesn't reach his eyes.
They dive into the fray, ODM cables glinting like silver threads weaving through a tapestry of death. Titans fall one after another — necks sliced open, bodies crumbling to steam.
For the first time, the recruits' movements look like something close to a real unit. Eren's recklessness becomes an anchor; his defiance, a beacon.
Even Historia — trembling, eyes wide — refuses to stay back. "If Eren can fight," she whispers to herself, "then so can I."
Good. It won't be to hard to conquer Historia. I will make my move after this.
Ymir lands beside her, panting. "Krista, what are you doing?!"
"Helping," Historia says, gripping her blades with both hands. "I can't just hide anymore."
Ymir stares for a moment, then curses again. "You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?"
The chaos stretches on — screams, steam, the sound of gas valves hissing, steel biting into flesh. Each kill blurs into the next. But through it all, Eren never loses his rhythm. He moves like a storm in human form — swift, precise, untouchable.
Yet his mind remains cold. Calculating.
This is just the beginning. If I want to reshape this world, I need control. Power. Allies.
He dodges a Titan's swipe, countering with a twin strike that splits its nape. Steam burns his cheek, but he doesn't flinch. And for that, I'll need the Scouts.
In the canon ,Eren gets the support of Erwin and Levi. He will need their support for his plan as well. So, should he reveal the secrets of titan to them?
Not now. It's not the right time.
Meanwhile, across the rooftops, Reiner and Annie watch the battle unfold. Their blades are drawn but unused. Reiner's eyes dart toward the horizon, searching for something — someone.
"Bertholdt should've been here by now," he mutters, voice low.
Annie shrugs, expression unreadable. "Maybe he's busy."
"This isn't part of the plan," Reiner insists, jaw tightening. "If he doesn't—"
"Then we improvise." Annie's tone is sharp, dismissive. "You're too loud."
He glares at her, but she doesn't look back. Her eyes track Eren slicing through another Titan like it's nothing. Something flickers behind her calm mask — curiosity, maybe annoyance.
"Eren Jaeger…" she murmurs, almost to herself. "He's different."
Down below, Armin and Mikasa regroup near a fallen cart, gas nearly depleted. The ground is littered with steaming corpses.
"Eren!" Mikasa calls out, scanning the smoke. "Where are you?!"
Eren drops down beside them, landing hard. His blades are chipped, his uniform soaked with blood — Titan blood, mostly. His chest rises and falls steadily.
"Still alive," he says, smirking faintly.
Before making a move on Ymir and Historia I should make Mikasa completely mine, both in body and soul.
Mikasa's relief is immediate, though she hides it behind a frown. "You shouldn't rush in alone."
"If I didn't, half of them would be dead." He sheathes his blades with a metallic click. "We can't rely on orders right now. Command's too busy panicking."
Armin looks around at the destruction. "You're right… but what now? There's too many Titans. We can't hold this gate forever."
Eren's gaze turns toward the Wall — the smoking gap where the Colossal Titan vanished. Steam still rises from the breach. Gone, just like before. But this time, Eren knows exactly where that power went.
One more step toward freedom.
Arghh!! why am I thinking like Eren. Does my personality gets this much influenced when I become different characters?
He turns to Armin. "We help with the evacuation. Then we fall back to the inner gate and regroup with the Scouts when they arrive."
"Scouts?" Mikasa narrows her eyes. "You really think they'll come?"
Eren nods his head.
By dusk, the streets of Trost are rivers of steam and ash. The Titans still pour in, though fewer now — their movements slowed by exhaustion or injury.
Eren stands atop a bell tower, surveying the chaos below. He can see Jean rallying recruits near the barricades, Connie helping civilians into carts, and Sasha perched on a roof, arrows whistling from her bow with uncanny precision.
They're improving. Adapting. Humanity might not be hopeless after all.
The wind whips through his hair, carrying the smell of smoke and blood. He breathes it in slowly.
This is what I wanted, he thinks . A world that forces people to grow… or die trying.
After all I would need people who will do my biddings
Behind him, Mikasa lands lightly, her gear hissing. "You're thinking too much again."
"Maybe," he admits, eyes still on the horizon. "But someone has to."
She steps closer, her expression unreadable. "You scared me today."
Eren glances at her, a rare softness flickering in his eyes. "I'm not dying here, Mikasa. Not yet."
"Good," she says simply, and turns away.
Below them, Reiner and Annie exchange another quiet glance — one of unease. The situation is spiraling out of their control, and Eren Jaeger stands at the center of it.
Reiner exhales slowly. "He's going to be a problem."
"Maybe," Annie says. "Or maybe he's the solution."
As night falls over Trost, the Titans continue their slow, hungry march. The city burns, the air thick with death and steam. But for the first time in years, humanity doesn't break.
His jaw sets. If I want to end this world of cages, I'll need more than strength. I'll need every piece on the board.
He turns, shouting to the others. "We fall back to the inner gate! Help the wounded and prepare for another wave!"
And without waiting for confirmation, he leaps — a dark streak against the burning sky.
Hooh!! I am to tired of looking at these ugly titans. I miss Grayfia and others.
Should I go back and recharge a little?
End of Chapter 33: The Battle of Trost Begins