It was on the fourth day.
The sun had just started climbing overhead, golden and merciless, spearing down through the trees.
Meeyn stood near the center of the clearing, one hand lazily in his pocket, the other tossing a flat stone from palm to palm.
Annie sat nearby, arms wrapped around her knees, silently chewing on a bitter root he'd dug up earlier.
Everything seemed... normal.
Until it wasn't.
Without warning, Meeyn's posture shifted slightly — just enough for his concentration to slip.
The thin, almost invisible threads of Living Abyss connecting him to the Titans snapped.
One after another.
The controlled monsters at the edge of the clearing twitched violently, their bodies stiffening. Their dull eyes flared with sudden, mindless hunger.
Then they moved.
Fast.
Massive feet thundered forward, branches snapping under their weight. Drool spilled from slack mouths. Low, hungry moans ripped through the trees.
The Titans charged.
Straight for them.
Annie shot to her feet instantly, body tense and ready — but one glance at Meeyn froze her blood.
He looked... confused.
Eyes narrowed, frowning slightly, shifting his weight like he was trying to reestablish control — and failing.
"What—" Annie breathed, her heart hammering wildly. "You—"
Meeyn whipped his head toward her sharply.
"Get behind me," he barked, voice rough, the lazy edge gone.
Without thinking, Annie obeyed, scrambling backward, her body acting on pure instinct.
The Titans crashed through the makeshift barricade of trees and stone, roaring, their massive forms blotting out the sun.
Annie's mind raced.
He lost control.
The sight of him — Meeyn — standing firm between her and the oncoming Titans, his arms spread slightly as if shielding her, the sunlight blazing down around them like a halo.
He wasn't running.
He wasn't saving himself.
He was protecting her.
The realization slammed into her gut harder than any Titan's punch.
Someone... protecting her.
Not using her.
Not discarding her.
Protecting.
Something inside Annie — something buried deep, something twisted and broken — cracked open.
The world blurred at the edges.
Without thinking, without planning, her battered body moved.
A scream tore from her throat — raw, primal, desperate.
CRACK—
The ground split apart as yellow lightning ripped through the clearing.
The explosion of force threw dirt and stone into the air.
The nearest Titans reeled back, staggering.
And from the center of the blast, rising up through the dust and chaos —
The Female Titan.
Annie's Titan form loomed tall and terrible, steam pouring from her joints.
With a furious, guttural roar, she charged forward.
She didn't hesitate.
Annie moved on pure instinct — her Titan instincts howling to protect what was precious.
Meeyn.
The first Titan was crushed under her heel, bones exploding under the sheer weight of her landing.
Another swung a massive, clawed hand toward her — she ducked low, her armored fists flashing upward in a brutal uppercut that shattered its jaw into fragments.
Blood sprayed.
Steam rose.
Within seconds, the clearing was a warzone.
Annie tore through the Titans like a vengeful storm, moving faster, cleaner than she ever had before.
Each movement was fueled by a wild, burning thing inside her chest — a desperate, furious need to shield the tiny figure standing alone at the center of the chaos.
Meeyn never moved.
He stood there, red eyes gleaming faintly, arms folded loosely across his chest, watching the slaughter unfold with amusement.
Not worried.
Not afraid.
Exactly as he planned.
When the last Titan fell — its head crushed into the dirt under Annie's foot— the clearing fell eerily silent.
Steam rose from the broken bodies, the air thick with the metallic stink of blood and dust.
Annie's Titan form swayed slightly, exhausted but upright.
Her sharp blue eyes locked onto Meeyn.
She towered over him.
Could have crushed him with a flick of her wrist.
But she didn't.
She just stared.
Breathing hard.
Chest heaving.
Steam trailing from her body like smoke from a dying fire.
Meeyn smiled faintly.
He raised one hand, palm out — a gesture of peace, of thanks.
"Good girl," he murmured under his breath, too softly for anyone but himself to hear.
Annie stood frozen, her Titan form trembling slightly, caught between the instinct to run and the unfamiliar, gut-wrenching urge to stay.
To protect.
To belong.
The sunlight burned down on them, harsh and blinding.
But Meeyn didn't flinch.
He just stood there — a lazy, dangerous smile curling at his lips — as Annie slowly, painfully knelt before him, her massive Titan form bowing low, steam curling around them like mist.
And inside the nape, Annie's human eyes fluttered closed — just for a moment — surrendering to the terrifying warmth blooming in her broken heart.
The clearing — once a battlefield — was silent again.