He let his awareness flow into the nearest shadow, the one cast by the bars of his cell. At first, it was a blurry sensation — the feeling of being close, but not truly there. He concentrated, pushing deeper, refining the connection. Slowly, the blurry shapes around him began to sharpen. He could feel the air shift, the subtle movements of the soldiers outside the door. He could hear them too, their muffled words carried through the stone walls and the shadows.
One of them was talking to another, a low murmur of conversation.
Meeyn's focus deepened, his mind pushing further into the shadows, searching for more. A subtle concentration formed in the back of his mind as he sought out the perfect cluster, an area where shadows circled tightly. Three specific shadows, dense and intertwined, caught his attention.
He focused harder, pulling himself deeper into that pocket of darkness. A strange sensation prickled at the edges of his consciousness. His sight began to shift, distorting the world around him. Then, like a veil being lifted, the vision unfolded before him.
He saw Mikasa, standing firm, her blades drawn, her posture resolute. Eren on ground, his expression unreadable, and Armin was beside him, uncertainty flashing in his eyes. The three of them faced a line of Garrison soldiers, their rifles and blades aimed directly at the trio. Cannons were positioned at a distance, ready to strike.
A commanding officer stood before them, shouting in a voice laced with fury.
"Cadets! Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman, and Armin Arlet! The three of you have jointly committed an act of high treason! Whether a swift execution depends on you!"
The officer's gaze swept over them, his eyes hard and cold. "Any attempt to move from where you stand now, anything I deem even the slightest bit suspicious, will be met with cannon fire. Do not test me!"
Meeyn's mind sharpened as the scene unfolded, every detail clear in the vision — the tense atmosphere, the desperation in Eren's eyes, the cold resolve in Mikasa's stance. The Garrison soldiers, poised to strike at any moment, had the power to end everything.
Then, Meeyn's senses returned to the shadows, and a strange, disjointed voice slipped through his thoughts. A jumble of fragmented sentences, a disoriented mind, trying to understand its surroundings.
"Am I the only one here who doesn't... think I'm a Titan? Damn it, why can't I remember how I got here?"
The voice — it was Eren's, faint but unmistakable, tinged with confusion and frustration. The words cracked in the silence, like a brittle shard breaking.
"Too weak to stand up… and if I say the wrong thing... is this it for me? Killed by people... what was that he said about me coming out of a Titan carcass in front of everyone... is he—"
Eren's voice trembled, his thoughts spiraling in confusion and fear.
Then, he replied, "I AM SORRY, SIR. I DON'T UNDERSTAND," his voice strained, filled with desperation.
The officer stared at Eren for a moment, his expression cold and unforgiving. He muttered under his breath, barely audible, "Son of a bitch, playing innocent."
His words continued, babbling and yapping.
The officer's voice grew louder, his impatience building.
But before he could finish his tirade, his gaze hardened. His hand shot up, signaling the command. The air was thick with tension as the Garrison soldiers tightened their grips on their rifles. Cannons aimed with deadly precision, ready to strike.
Boom! The cannon fired. The deafening sound of the blast echoed through the air, shaking the very ground beneath them.
The deafening sound of the cannon firing echoed through the air, a powerful blast that shook the ground beneath them.
The smoke cleared, but Eren, Mikasa, and Armin were still standing, locked in a desperate standoff.
But then, just as the cannon fire dissipated, a sudden surge of energy rippled through the air. Eren's body convulsed, his eyes wide with shock and fury.
His skin began to stretch and distort, his bones cracking as the power of the Attack Titan surged within him.
With a guttural roar, Eren's transformation began. In an instant, he was halfway between human and Titan — a grotesque, half-transformed beast, towering above the Garrison soldiers.
...
Meeyn's consciousness snapped back into his body, the vision of Eren's half-transformation fading.
The cold stone of the cell pressed against his back, grounding him in the present. His red-tinted eyes flickered open, staring into the near-total darkness of the cell.
"Damn," he muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "Kid's got some serious issues." Eren's transformation, the chaos outside, the Garrison's trigger-happy response—it was all a mess. But it wasn't his mess.
For now, he had his own problems to deal with. The cell was a temporary setback, a minor inconvenience. What mattered was pushing his powers further, getting a grip on the Living Abyss, and figuring out how to create a proper symbiote. The lifeless constructs he'd managed so far—tendrils, blades, discs—were useful, but they weren't enough. He needed something more, something that could act independently, even if it didn't have a will of its own.
Meeyn shifted, sitting cross-legged on the floor, and extended his hands. The darkness in the cell seemed to thicken at his call, swirling around his fingertips like liquid shadow. He focused, willing the Living Abyss to take shape. Symbiote Creation [Active]: Birth primitive life from the void. The system's words echoed in his mind, taunting him. Primitive life. That was the goal. But every time he tried, the darkness resisted, collapsing into lifeless blobs or dissolving entirely.
"Come on," he growled, his voice low and frustrated. He pushed harder, picturing a small, simple symbiote—a mindless creature, something that could move and act on his command without the complexity of sentience.
The black tendrils writhed, twisting into a small, quivering mass above his palm. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat, but there was no life in it. No spark.