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On The Bench
Dedicate Your Life

Dedicate Your Life

Thirteen years.

As Mikasa listened to Sona recount what she had learned in the last few hours, she kept returning to that idea. It wasn't that she wasn't paying attention. Rather, Mikasa hung on to every word, imprinting them deeply to not forget a single fact of the tale.

But still...

Thirteen years.

For thirteen years, Eren had been trapped in the Paths, where every second was an infinite moment that was simultaneously his best and worst day, where he felt every pain he'd ever felt and saw futures that would never be.

For thirteen years, for every second of every day, Eren had experienced this attack, this second Rumbling. He was fighting his friends, her, and the whole world. His comrades were dying. Every wound was carved into him, and every heartbreak was presented to him anew.

And yet... Yet... Mikasa couldn't say he was worse off than he'd been in their world.

In their world, Eren had only been trapped in the Paths for a few days, but those Paths had been made of two thousand years worth of experiences from the perspective of countless Eldians.

Mikasa had always believed that those experiences in the Path, the pain of the Founder and Attack Titan's knowledge, had been a significant reason for the Rumbling. She'd always thought that experiencing all the pain and suffering the Titans had created significantly influenced his choice of end.

To have the slate wiped clean of all that came before.

Ending Eren's misery, once she learned of it after the fact, had been the one consolation for what Mikasa had done. Eren... he hadn't wanted to live like that. Death had probably been a relief. A release from his prison of torment.

Yet, in this world, he lived for a full thirteen years in that eternal prison.

If the Founder was so terrible, why prolong it? Why not choose a future that freed him sooner? Why not choose an end where he didn't need to suffer for as long?

...That was the question, wasn't it?

Why?

Sona finished her tale, her eyes still red from tears shed, but her smile faded as she spoke of what she had done. The price she had paid to ensure Eren got the ending he wanted while still saving as many people as she could.

Serafall was the first to speak.

"You should have told me."

"No."

She said the word immediately, without thought and consideration, but it was the correct answer.

Mikasa was sure of it.

"She did the right thing."

"Mi-chan..." Serafall said, her voice soft but chastising. "We could have helped. Come up with something better."

"Could we?" Mikasa asked, finally looking at her King. Mikasa didn't know what her face looked like, but Serafall flinched. "We couldn't. Not when he has the Founder. He won. He won thirteen years ago. All we can do is ensure his victory is as bloodless as possible."

Before anyone could say anything else, Mikasa shook her head slightly, refocusing.

"I'll still... fight Eren if he does something I disagree with. He'd do the same. Just... Sona made a hard call. One that saved a lot of lives. Because Eren would have killed more people if it got him the future he wanted. I know that. We all do."

"And if we had known, we could have organized something better," Serafall pointed out. "Something that wouldn't have put so many people in danger!"

"No," Kuroka shook her head. "You couldn't have. Eren needed to kill Great Red to get the memory of it to get Ophis' help." "I, still can't find him." "He needs to see '3' to being '2.' And if Eren had shown up with power and told you he could see the future, would you have let him destroy Agreas and kill so many of the Pillar families before fighting Great Red?"

"...How many?" Sona asked, looking at her sister. "How many did he- I, kill?"

"It wasn't you," Serafall denied instantly. "It was Eren."

"It was her," Rias denied just as vehemently, stepping up beside her rival. "You don't get to take that from her. From me. Any of us! We made our choices, and we need to live with them."

"Choices you made without knowing the future! Unlike Eren!"

"That doesn't matter," Akeno disagreed. "If we have to move forward, it won't be by ignoring our guilt. We might carry it with us, but it is ours. Eren did what he did. There is no changing that. But so did we."

"What guilt!?" Mikasa had never seen Serafall so frustrated. She looked ready to tear her hair out. "All you did was fight against a man trying to destroy your home and kill a bunch of innocent people! There's nothing for you to feel guilty about!"

"But he wasn't, was he?" Yuuto pointed out. "If he wanted to, he could have killed everyone. He killed Great Red. If he wanted us all dead, we would be. It wasn't about killing. It was about destroying something Eren thought was wrong, even if it meant making enemies out of everyone."

"You can't be trying to justify his actions?"

"Not justify," Koneko shook her head. "Understand."

"Just because we understand them doesn't mean we agree," Yuuto rubbed a hand gently through Koneko's hair. "Eren... he isn't evil. He just weighed things on a scale and found that the destruction of the Evil Pieces system and a large portion of the Pillars was worth the collateral damage."

"How many?" Sona asked again, more forcefully this time. "How many dead?"

Serafall looked at her younger sister, tears of frustration building in her eyes. It made her look younger than her centuries.

Then again, Sona had always been Serafall's weakness.

"How many!?"

"...We're still counting," Serafall eventually said, deflecting.

"You have a better idea than that!" Sona snapped. "'The first thing an army should do after a battle is to take stock of the remaining military assets.'"

"I never should have given you Falbium's books," Serafall muttered, almost petulantly. "But you were so cute when you asked..."

Ah!

"Onee-sama!"

As she watched the two sisters argue, a revelation struck Mikasa like a lightning bolt.

Seeing them, this handful of... kids, essentially, glare down one of the Satans, it was hard not to see it.

They were healed, but they were bloody. Tired. Stressed. They just had their first great battle, rivalling any others. One against someone they cared about.

Yet, they were still fighting.

"...Falbium's spells told him that of his eight thousand troops, two hundred and seven died battling the Colossal Titans. A hundred and eighty-seven Ultimate Class devils were part of the initial attack against the White Titan. Thirty-eight died. Among the reinforcements, fourteen died in the battle against the Colossals outside the Wall. As far as we can tell, the defenders inside only lost eighteen, as the Titans were focused either on Lillith or the Wall. Civilian casualties are less accurate, but at least a few dozen perished in the confusion, and a handful more didn't evacuate Lilith before the Titans got by you. We're still searching the rubble."

Mikasa's eyes swept the young devils in front of her, looking at their grim faces, then at Serafall and something just... clicked.

"...And how many were on Agreas?"

Even counting that she had spent less time with him than Kuroka or the others in this world, Mikasa still felt that she knew Eren the best. Understood his motivations the best.

And, now knowing he had the Founder and wasn't simply fighting but working with a plan he knew would succeed, Mikasa could finally try and put together the clues of all their talks.

"We don't know. They weren't part of the plan or Falbium's spells. The others and I were already away when the attack began."

Was this what Eren meant when he said he didn't want to repeat the mistakes of the past? Was this why he had chosen this future?

"And you didn't receive a report from those who teleported to Agreas when you returned? Someone would have counted or recognized the extra Lords and Ladies. I sent out sixty-four letters. Even if only half answered, Grayfia would have taken note."

Mikasa remembered the relief she had felt for those few minutes when she had believed she didn't have to be the one to kill Eren again. That it was left to someone else.

"...She did, but I haven't received her report yet. I went to help you, then Mi-chan, then here we are. Onee-sama will tell So-tan later."

...Had Eren felt that same relief?

"Don't lie to me!" Sona snapped. "I know for a fact that you wouldn't cut yourself off! You are still receiving reports now, while we talk."

"Sera," Mikasa said gently, using their private nickname to grab the Leviathan's attention. "Tell her."

The pain on her friend's face only made Mikasa more determined that she was right.

"Protecting someone you love is kind. But only if they need the protection. If they don't, it's not love. It's a padded prison of ignorance and helplessness."

Mikasa hadn't realized what she had been doing to Eren for years. Her love and desire to keep him safe had been a chain around his neck. It was only when she let go, when she trusted him, that he had been able to grow. It had been too late then but in this world? It wasn't too late.

Seeing her older sister vacillate, Sona struck the final blow.

"Even if you don't tell me, I'll know," she said softly. "In order to get them onto Agreas, I had to make it look like I was acting against you in self-interest. Everyone there signed a magical contract to fund my school for decades, no matter what happened. I am going to inherit all the wealth and power they signed over. All I will have to do is count the empty seats in my next board meeting."

That finally pushed Serafall over the edge.

"Grayfia counted three hundred and forty-two devils who were not part of the initial plan." Sona's breath hitched as she stared wide-eyed at her sister. "Most were Peerage of the ninety-seven Lords and Ladies she recognized. If you only sent sixty-four letters, they shared the information with their family or retainers. Or Zekram sent out a call."

"That's..." Rias breathed out in shocked awe.

"Over half the members of the House of Lords," Serafall nodded grimly. "Plus various retired members and heirs. All together and based on names, Sirzechs thinks at least seven of the remaining Pillars are fully extinct. Four more are left with no one with their clan trait and will be demoted to Extra families if they survive at all. Six are leaderless, their heirs either too young to inherit or indisposed in some way."

"Satans..." Akeno's hands clenched and released as if trying to grasp something.

"We were lucky," Serafall continued grimly. "Our total casualties from this attack are expected to be less than a thousand. A fraction of a percent of the population. Other factions were not as lucky. Initial reports give casualty estimates between ten percent to full annihilation for smaller forces. That doesn't change the fact that most of our losses come from our strongest military forces. We are only slightly better off than the likes of the fallen."

Lucky was an understatement.

There were more casualties on a human battlefront, let alone one with the kinds of powers in play here.

But it wasn't really luck, was it? Not when this was a precision strike orchestrated by someone who could see the future.

The Titans, the flash and awe of it... It was all a big distraction to mask Eren's real targets and lure out Great Red.

"Bara- Father mentioned that heaven and the Hindu were not attacked," Akeno pointed out.

"The Trimurti have kept themselves stable for thousands of years, and the Hindus are not as prone to infighting as others," Serafall nodded. "Baring Indra and Shiva, the Hindus have no interest in changing the status quo. Eren killed Great Red, so he probably could have taken them on, but not while he was on a time limit like he was. No. He deliberately left them untouched and every other faction is wondering why. Were they in on it? Indra was. But others? Every eye is on the Hindus, waiting for them to show the slightest hint of movement while everyone else recovers. By leaving them alone, Eren's forced a stalemate. The Hindus can't move without provoking everyone, and nobody can attack them since they are so strong."

It was easy to forget behind the costume and magic wand, but Serafall was the Satan in charge of Foreign Affairs. Her entire job was to keep the peace between devils and the innumerable factions of the world.

"He's really created a cold war," Sona rejoined the conversation, recovering slightly from the shock.

"Why not heaven," Yuuto asked. "He's not really religious. Why didn't he attack them?"

"He probably didn't need to," Serafall shook her head. "Ever since the big guy died, it's been the weakest of the Three Factions by far to those that know about His death. Only Michael and the leftover System that makes us weak to Light have kept heaven as a viable threat. We benefited from the myth of his survival as well. Like the Heavenly Dragons, anyone who got in the way of His wars also became a target. Nobody wants to become a second Vritra."

"And if Eren knew about it, which he should, he'd know that destroying the Brave Saints would do more damage to heaven than an attack anyway," Sona ran a hand through her hair in frustration.

"The ruse won't last much longer," Serafall continued grimly. "Most of the world still thinks He's alive, but He hasn't been seen in centuries. He didn't attack the devils during the Civil War and didn't attend the Peace Conference. It won't be long before it gets out He's dead, no matter what we do now. If this was before the Treaty, heaven would be wiped out. He made a lot of enemies that outlived Him."

"Will the Treaty hold?" Mikasa asked, mind still trying to piece together the fragments of her idea. She had its shape, the bare bones, but the details were lacking.

She wasn't a genius like Armin, but looking at these battered children- No. These young men and women. These warriors who had stood up and fought for their home.

Mikasa almost smiled bitterly when she remembered that their youngest, Koneko, was still older than Mikasa had been when she finished training and joined the scouts.

"Almost certainly," Serafall nodded. "It won't be as smooth since we can't provide the Brave Saint cards we promised, but Michael made the right call to help the fallen and us. It wasn't a purely benevolent move. He needs us to ward off the vultures once news of His death spreads. And we need heaven and the fallen to make up for our lost forces today."

"Eren... helped the treaty?" Koneko frowned in thought.

"Yes," the Leviathan nodded. "The threat of the Chaos Brigade is all but gone, but its presence never really helped as a unifying threat. It was too nebulous. Unknown. But other factions? Everyone is used to being wary of them, and survival is a great motivator for turning enemies into allies. It won't be perfect. Everyone will want to be the first to recover their strength, but it will be self-interested. With everyone weakened and distrusting, what few allies you can count on will be invaluable. I wouldn't be surprised if other factions didn't start trying to join the Treaty. Especially the harder hit ones like the Shinto or Greeks."

"What happened in Japan," Rias asked worriedly.

"The remaining Korean gods took the chance for revenge for what happened last century," Serafall said bluntly. Everyone winced at the reminder. "The Shinto Pantheon is still around, as is Amaterasu, but they are in no state to fight off the Jade Court if they decide they also want to take their own shot."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

There was a note of grim silence as the reality of their new world settled on everyone.

It was Koneko who asked the question they were all thinking.

"What now?" Golden feline eyes swept them all, searching for an answer. "What do we do now? Eren is still alive. He's not done."

"With how tense things are," Sona let out a long, weary sigh. "If news he's still alive leaks, this temporary peace will end instantly. It's impossible to predict what will happen, but everyone will be scrambling to do something, either for or against the human that killed Great Red."

"But if he's left alone, whatever he has planned next might also set everyone off," Akeno pointed out, a grim fatalism in her voice.

"We can't stop him," Rias said, sitting down tiredly. "He'll succeed with the Founder, no matter what it is."

"You don't do anything," Serafall shook her head. "You've all done enough. You go back to school and let us take care of this." When all the young devils looked ready to protest, Serafall glared at them as the temperature dropped. That shut them up. "We'll rebuild, get things organized. I'd want to keep you here, with me, but So-tan, you need to be out of the Underworld. For as long as possible. I'll let you know when it's safe to return."

Sona didn't even look like she would argue; she just nodded. She could see the wisdom in remaining out of the public eye for a while.

It wouldn't stop the rumours or lessen the flow of wealth and power that would come her way, but it would hopefully mitigate the fallout.

It was, surprisingly, Mikasa who rejected Serafall's order.

"They'll help me," she declared. When her King looked at her Pawn, Mikasa explained. "I'm no use for rebuilding and not known enough to be missed. I'm going to hunt down Rizevim. They'll help when they can."

That got some wide eyes, but Serafall shook her head furiously.

"No way," she denied, crossing her arms in an X for dramatic effect. "I know you're angry, but he's a Super Devil! One of only three to ever live! You took him by surprise once, and he won't allow that to happen again. You can't beat him, and I am not going to allow them anywhere near him."

"Of the people here, Rias is the only one who could hurt Eren when he was going all out," Mikasa pointed out.

"That was with the power of a Heavenly Dragon!"

"A power that we can use whenever we want," Mikasa pointed in the direction Issei was huddled with the rest of the Gremory Peerage. "Eren chose a future where Rizevim 'killed' him. Visibly. Publicly. I got there first, but others saw him. I can't imagine Eren would choose that way if he didn't need to send a message. "

"Eren killed Great Red. Rizevim 'killed' him," Akeno said, even using finger quotes. "'Rizevim is a greater threat than Eren,' is that it? He's also the last remaining leader of the Brigade. Everyone else is either dead or fled. Eren did everything he could to ensure the world only has Rizevim left to blame for today."

"Trust me, Sera," Mikasa tried to reassure her friend. "I have no plans to put them in any danger I don't believe they can't handle."

"They shouldn't be in any danger at all."

Mikasa let out a small, sad smile.

"There's always danger. There will never be a world that doesn't have enemies looking to hurt you. All you can do is prepare those that come after you so they are strong enough to inherit the world as it is, not as you hope it to be."

"There is a big difference between training them and throwing against the third strongest devil ever born!? And why them? We can deal with Rizevim."

"No. You can't. You must be here, rebuilding and ensuring another Great War doesn't break out. And it has to be them. And me. Who knows what Eren told Rizevim. They are the only ones Eren can't see in the Paths, right?"

"Right," Kuroka, still hugging Ophis to her chest, nodded with her little smile. Around them, her clones still searched for the lost cane, but the urgency was gone. "Eren mentioned something about being able to see one of you, I think Issei, but everyone else he saw on the bench should be completely invisible to him. You won't be able to change the future he experienced, but he won't know what you did to get to that future."

"We'll still need your information networks to find him," Mikasa consoled her King. "And we'll only attack with a plan. I'll make sure they're trained. Ready."

"But not safe," Serafall muttered petulently.

Then she relented, giving her Pawn a begrudging nod.

Not even Serafall could deny these young devils' impact on this battlefield.

She was trusting Mikasa to do right by them.

"You know," Sona said in the silence that followed, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at the smiling nekoshou. "You were very vague on why he couldn't see us. You just said something about Kuoh and why he was there in the first place. Is it something we can replicate?"

Kuroka hesitated, biting her lip as her tails waved behind her.

Then she hugged Ophis tighter to her chest and told them.

About Eren running away, how he didn't know why he was smiling, and how he had gone looking for the part of the Path he was blind to. How he had found it in a park in Kuoh, a bench that nullified his Founder abilities.

She talked of finding him after the Peace Conference, meeting him again, and his continued struggle to understand the future. About how everyone he met for the first time on the bench was immune to his power, blank spots in the Path.

"He was always protective of that damn bench, no matter how uncomfortable it was," Sona sighed in fond frustration, adjusting her glasses. "He was probably worried that if it was damaged or moved, it would lose its power... whatever it is."

"I have no idea," Kuroka shrugged. "It's not magic. It's not Senjustu, Ki, Light, or Demonic Power. I sensed nothing from it at all, even when I was sitting right on it. And I am a much better sensor than Eren."

"Isn't he a better Sage than you," Akeno pointed out.

"Because he cheats," Kuroka pouted. "He has infinite time in the Paths to practice. If it weren't for the limitations of his body, he could theoretically be as strong as Ophis in Ki alone. But sensing requires outside practice, so he's only a bit talented."

"AH!" Koneko suddenly exclaimed and everyone looked at her in worry. She was blushing deeply. "...That's how you got your tails. That... bouchujutsu technique. When you... with Eren... you go into the Path. And you spend years."

"Right," Kuroka gave her sister a sly smile. "Onee-sama doesn't remember her time there, but it was long enough to get seven tails. Who knows what happened~"

Mikasa didn't need Language to understand that 'Bouchujutsu' translated to 'Bedroom Techniques' to understand the implications. She just had to hear it in the cat's tone and see the flush on the young devils' faces.

Despite everything, the intense jealousy still rose within her chest. That familiar rage, envy, and bundle of dark emotion she had felt when Eren seemed a bit too eager to spar with Annie or when she noticed his new comradery with Historia was just as present now as it had been then.

It was even worse, knowing that Eren had actually... been with the cat. She'd ignored it and would continue to do so because it wasn't like Kuroka was... with him now, but it didn't change what Mikasa felt.

It was illogical. She'd... not moved on, per se, but Mikasa had been happy with Jean. And, in a way, she was happy that Eren had something, someone comparable.

But feelings didn't care about logic. They were pathetic, messy, and all too flawed.

Like Eren, Mikasa could acknowledge the hypocrisy of her own feelings. That small but unignorable voice in her heart.

It should be me.

It didn't mean she wanted to dwell on those feelings. Especially since right now was not the time for it.

"Anything else?" Mikasa pressed. "Anything else you haven't told us about Eren, that bench, or his future?"

"...Only that meeting you made him even more reluctant to move forward," Kuroka said with a moment of thought. "He said he didn't want to inflict it on you again. That you would understand while we wouldn't."

"The Rumbling?" Akeno snorted in an unlady-like manner. "Everyone can understand the fear of not wanting to be squished like a bug."

"No," Sona shook her head. "Eren claimed it would be worse than the Rumbling. Or at least, that's what she told me."

Kuroka nodded with a grimace.

Everyone got very quiet then.

It was hard to fathom, here amongst the rubble and in a world with a destroyed sun, but this... attack was nothing compared to The Rumbling.

Less than a thousand dead... or a few thousand if one counted other factions, compared to one and a half billion?

Mikasa had lived through a post-Rumbling world.

The death of the Dream was shocking, but the impact would be nothing compared to the after-effect that event had on everyone and everything.

Even when Mikasa had died when the vast majority of the population was too young to remember the Battle of Heaven and Earth, its shadow still loomed over history.

There was a pre-Rumbling world and post-Rumbling world, and the two were almost wholly incomparable.

"Maybe he was talking about power rather than damage," Rias guessed.

They all hoped it would be the case, but nobody seemed convinced.

Still, Eren had the Founder. Whatever future he had already experienced, they couldn't change it. All they could do was try their best to shape it in their own small way.

Perhaps that was why Serafall sought to change the topic slightly from that grim fatality.

"I'm gonna have Adjuka look at this bench when he gets the chance," the Leviathan said. "If anyone can get anything out of it, it'd be him."

"I'll pull up what I can on the park's reconstruction," Sona said with a sigh. "Maybe there's a clue there."

"Suspicious."

"Do we have any other idea what might be behind it?" Yuuto asked, looking around after Koneko's summary. "It can't be a coincidence, right?"

"Someone clearly wanted Eren in Kuoh. Someone who knew how his power worked and his relationship with Mi-chan," Serafall said hesitantly. "We... have one more clue."

"Really?" Everyone looked at the Satan in surprise, even Mikasa, but it was Kuroka who asked the question.

"You remember the infirmary after your rating game?" Serafall asked, gesturing at Rias and Sona. They both nodded. Mikasa wouldn't forget that day, that talk with Saji, and the time after that for as long as she'd live. "I guessed Eren might be from Mi-chan's world, so I checked with Adjuka-chan. He confirmed it based on the blood you gave him."

"Okay," Sona said lowly, wondering where her sister was going with this.

"And we checked on an old experiment of his. One that hasn't changed in nineteen years," Serafall said, looking at her younger sister with a complicated expression. "Apart from being from another world, Mi-chan has another thing in common with Eren. This isn't the first time a wooden object seems to have power we can't sense."

Mikasa realized what her King was talking about before the Leviathan summoned the object from her own storage. Something she hadn't thought about, tried not to think about, for almost two decades.

It was a coffin.

It was a nice coffin, admittedly. The wood was polished and clean as if it had never been used, and there wasn't a scratch on it.

Under everyone's surprised eyes, Serafall popped open the lid.

Mikasa looked away, raising a hand to the scarf around her neck.

She knew what would be in that coffin.

It hadn't changed in the months she lived in Madagascar and wouldn't have changed in the years since.

If she looked, she knew she'd see it filled with her favourite flowers. White and fresh as if they had just been plucked.

Mikasa knew that in that pile of flowers would be an empty space that perfectly fit an old woman.

But there was no longer an old woman there.

Instead, it was just a short note.

She'd stared at it long enough to know its words by heart.

Mikasa never liked that coffin, even though her family had prepared it just as she asked in her will.

It was supposed to be her eternal resting place.

The final reunion with Eren, in a place where they were free of the world's cruelties.

Instead, it had become an ominous vessel that had brought her to this strange version of hell where there was no hope of that reunion.

...Only, that wasn't true, was it? She'd been reunited with Eren. In a way she couldn't have ever hoped for.

Mikasa looked at her coffin and saw the note lying where she once lay.

'A life for a life.'

Underneath that vague statement was a drawing of Pawn Piece.

"This appeared in front of me one day," Serafall said simply. "Teleported right through all my wards and defences. I thought it was an attack, but nothing else happened. I opened it and found Mi-chan inside with this note."

"What does that mean, 'A life for a life?'"

"I took the coffin to Adjuka to find out how it passed everything," Serafall continued, not answering Rias' question. "He examined it for three days and couldn't discover anything except that the wood isn't native to this world. But the flowers never wilted. The body, um, Mi-chan, didn't decay. It has power of some sort, one that stops anything within it from deteriorating, but we couldn't find out how it works. So, I reincarnated Mi-chan. We'd hoped she knew what had happened. She had no idea either."

More than that, Mikasa had been completely confused about what was happening.

And angry. And in denial. And despairing.

The point was that Mikasa hadn't been in any state to answer questions calmly. Especially since she didn't actually have answers.

"Don't the Evil Pieces not work if they aren't used right away?" Kuroka asked, surveying the inside with a critical eye. "Before the soul moves on?"

"We believe that whatever power keeps the contents fresh also prevented Mi-chan from moving on."

"So Eren has that bench, and Aunty has this coffin?" Sona asked with a furrowed brow. "Someone clearly planned this and created this item. Both of them. Someone who wanted to connect you, me, Eren, and Aunty."

Mikasa could see her King's conflict as she hesitated with the final clue. So, once again, Mikasa gave Serafall this last push. If she was right about Eren... about his intentions, then these young warriors needed to know everything.

"Tell her the rest."

Sona's eyes narrowed in suspicion at her sister.

"I only learned later," Serafall sighed, stepping forward to pull Sona into a hug. As if to reassure her. "But the moment I reincarnated Mi-chan was the same moment you were conceived."

Mikasa could see the wheels in her niece's brain grind to a halt.

There was the embarrassment, of course. Nobody wants to talk about or think about their own conception.

But there was also the implication.

With the note and the timing, it was too coincidental to be anything less than deliberate.

Lord and Lady Sitri had been trying for a second child for centuries, ever since Serafall had taken up the Leviathan title and never succeeded. Until the moment Mikasa was reincarnated?

Whoever was behind this had been able to influence a devil's ability to have children, which was infamously bad.

"That's impossible," Rias shook her head. "You're saying that Sona is-"

"I was the first to meet Eren on the bench," Sona said lowly, interrupting Rias. "Nobody would have talked to him if I hadn't started tutoring him. We just would have sent him out of the wards. And it was because of Saji's crush on me that Aunty heard about Eren... That's..."

Mikasa could understand the shock. The feeling like your life wasn't your own. Like you were just dancing on someone else's strings. Everyone who knew of Eren's ability faced that feeling at one point or another.

Serafall, though, wouldn't allow her sister to spiral.

"She's your Aunt because, without her, I might not have you," Serafall said with a small smile, still hugging her sister. "I can't imagine a world like that. You were my little miracle. Even if Eren does do... something worse than the Rumbling, even if he destroys the whole world and nothing we can do stops it, I won't regret a single moment. Because I got Mi-chan and So-tan. Because I had nineteen years of happiness out of the deal."

"No matter who's behind this," Mikasa said, stepping forward and laying a hand on Sona's head. "Never forget that you are 'Sona Sitri.' You made your choice. Hard choices. You've been hurt. But you should never regret being born in this world. And we'll never regret loving you."

Sona said nothing, just hugging her sister back and letting herself cry.

Mikasa didn't know what Eren still had planned. She could only think of two things he'd consider worse than the Rumbling, and neither seemed possible or likely.

But the end?

Why he was smiling?

Mikasa finally felt like she understood that part of him.

Eren had been smiling despite thirteen years of pain and imprisonment within the Paths.

What could make him smile despite all that?

Mikasa only had one answer she could think of.

Freedom.

********

Georg looked out over a field of graves.

There were hundreds, line after line of tombstones.

Georg had tried his best, using his magic to ensure everything was clean and that it would remain as preserved and sturdy as possible from any would-by defacers that would no doubt come in the centuries after he was no longer around.

Everyone had a grave.

Even those who had nothing left to bury.

Everyone's names were there, from the longest-running veteran to the newest recruit. He'd grouped them with who they fell with, their deeds carved upon monuments for future generations.

There was a kind of peace that came with knowing you were going to die, where it would be, and how.

It allowed one to decide how they wanted to be remembered.

Everyone left behind their own words for their descendants or visitors.

Still, for all his effort to make sure everyone would be recognized, Georg couldn't deny his own partiality.

While most of the graves had been dug and tombstones created by magic en-mass, he'd spent careful attention on the four markers at the forefront of this cemetery, sitting as the crown jewels to this monument to the Hero Faction.

The statue of Hercules was larger than life, smiling in the way he would whenever a new challenge appeared or when he saw an incredible explosion. The epitaph he had chosen was scrawled across the base, below his name, in blocky letters.

Live brightly. Laugh explosively. Let the world feel the impact of your death.

Jeanne, in contrast, had chosen a more classical monument, even if she added the request for a rapier to be stabbed into the traditional cross. Her own words were carved in a more flowing script as she spoke to her next reincarnation.

Surpass me as I surpassed the one who came before. Until our victory is absolute and bloodless.

Seigfried hadn't left any words behind for his grave, modelled as six demonic swords crossed over a man's head like a crown.

Instead, he'd just asked Georg to write down the results of his final battle, no matter what they were.

Georg obliged, and he liked to believe Sieg would have appreciated his choice.

I won.

Finally, Georg came to the last grave.

It was the simplest of the four, yet the most poignant.

A stone spear planted firmly in the ground, its tip poised toward the sky as if to pierce the very heavens.

Words scrolled along the haft.

Cao Cao. A hero.

Georg looked at his work, the field of graves in a pocket dimension here at the end of the world, and felt very lonely.

He wasn't the only survivor of the original Hero Faction, as he had gone to great lengths to make sure the world thought of the host of Annihilation Maker as a victim. Leonardo would be taken care of by the fallen. Vali would make sure of it. There had been some serious discussion of leaving him out entirely, as he was too young, but Annihilation Maker was needed, so they did what they could to ensure that he'd at least have a future.

Still, that didn't change the loneliness of looking over the graves.

They had chosen their end.

Georg had chosen to continue on.

Still, the melancholy didn't care about that choice.

A part of Georg wished he had died with them. That he wasn't the one having to bury his friends and go on, living life as if the world wasn't just a little bit dimmer from their deaths.

A more significant part wished to use the Grail that had collected all their blood and bring them back somehow.

It was theoretically possible. They had managed to bring back an Evil Dragon after all.

But humans were different than dragons, devils, angels, or monsters. To them alone was there a promise of an afterlife, of reincarnation.

His friends had all known of the Grail and, to a one, asked him not to bring them back.

They had wanted to be heroes, and death was the only rest a hero could get.

Better to die at their zenith than continue on, wasting away and becoming just a footnote in history.

Or worse, live long enough to become a cautionary tale.

None of them had been religious in the conventional sense, but Georg believed they all harboured a secret hope. One that beat in his own chest.

That their deaths would inspire their own legend.

That one day, their reincarnations could look at their past selves with the same pride the Hero Faction had felt once they discovered who they were.

Besides, Georg didn't have the Grail. Rizevim had taken Cao Cao's, and Eren's was still needed.

...Sometimes, Georg wondered if his reincarnation had been a trick of fate.

Like his namesake, Georg had made a deal.

'I want to see them become heroes.'

And Eren had delivered, just as he had to everyone else.

Even now, Georg wondered if the shades, the imprints of Jeanne and her followers, were still rampaging across Mt. Olympus.

Soon enough, the Reapers would rally from the loss of Hades, probably behind Thanatos, and they'd see them off to their proper afterlife.

Once they did, all the Grail would be able to conjure would be the imprints of their souls, not the souls themselves.

Georg would check in a couple days when he went out for supplies. He had to keep his returns to earth as few as possible.

He was a wanted man, after all.

One day, Georg would return to that original hideout, where friends founded an organization based on the childish dreams of heroes and monsters.

He'd place these graves there so they'd last even beyond his death and Dimension Lost's transference to a new host.

So, for now, it was just Georg and the graves.

And the mountain of crimson blood, flesh, and scale beyond.

In the moment's silence, as he bid farewell to the friends he loved, the comrades he fought beside, and the heroes he admired, Georg could hear it.

The only sound in this place with no wind, animals, or other life.

In this place beyond the Gap, where the world ended, and the vast infinity of the unknown stretched out endlessly beyond the mist of Georg's Sacred Gear, that sound might as well have been the clock's ticking for its regularity.

Without fail, every ten seconds, a voice would echo out from that gargantuan carcass that did not rot or decay.

Empty of all emotion or inclination, the voice reverberated as if overlapping with itself countless times as it slowly ticked down the minutes toward an inevitable end.

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