There was no light. No sound. No ground beneath his feet.
Eren floated in a void darker than night, colder than death. Time lost meaning. He didn't know if he was breathing. He didn't know if he still had a body. The last thing he remembered was the moment the shard of Akreth had merged with the blade in his hands and then everything had shattered.
Now, there was only blackness.
Until a voice broke the silence.
"So... you are the one who dares to bind me."
It was not a sound. It was thought shaped into pressure, pressed directly into his mind. Eren winced. He tried to speak, but no words came.
"Do not struggle. The vessel is weak. You are not ready."
The darkness around him rippled. And from it, a form began to take shape.
A man or something like one.
Tall, draped in robes of shadow. His face was a blur, a shifting mask of pain and fire. Behind him stretched wings made of broken swords and chains. His presence consumed everything around them.
Eren's voice finally returned in a whisper.
"Who... are you?"
"I am what remains," the being said. "Of the first. Of the last. Of every soul that dared to claim power without price."
It stepped closer, and with every step, the void around them twisted images blooming and fading. Cities burning. Lovers dying. Children crying out beneath a crimson sky. A thousand lifetimes of ruin, all born from the edge of the same blade.
"You carry my name now. Akreth. But you do not yet understand it."
"I want to," Eren said, gritting his teeth. "That's why I came here. That's why I accepted you."
The being studied him silently, then raised a hand. A circle of light flared beneath Eren's feet. Symbols he couldn't read floated into the air around him.
"Then you will be judged."
Before Eren could react, pain erupted through him.
He screamed.
His thoughts were ripped open. His memories dragged into the light. He saw himself as a child, standing at his sister's grave. He saw Lyria laughing beside a sunlit river. He saw the moment she died her hand reaching for him, his too slow to catch her.
Then his doubts.
The moment he almost let go of the sword. The whisper that told him to run. The hunger he felt when the Woken Beasts fell beneath his blade.
"You want vengeance," the voice said. "You want love returned. You want meaning. But what you offer is hollow."
"No," Eren gasped. "I offer everything."
"Then give it."
The void shifted again and Eren found himself on a battlefield.
The ground was littered with corpses. Flames roared in the distance. At the center stood Elira her white cloak stained with blood, her eyes hollow.
She turned to him.
"You failed."
Then Lyria appeared, her body whole, her eyes filled with sorrow.
"You let it take you."
And finally, Cael his golden eyes empty, his voice flat.
"You were never strong enough."
Eren dropped to his knees.
"I'm not like you," he said. "I won't be like you."
The being approached.
"Then prove it."
A sword appeared in Eren's hand Akreth, whole and blazing.
The world surged into motion. Enemies charged him shadows, beasts, warriors in ancient armor. Eren fought. Strike after strike. Blow after blow. Every enemy he defeated fell into dust, but the cost grew.
His skin burned.
His muscles tore.
His soul frayed at the edges.
But he didn't stop.
Because at the heart of this madness, he saw her. Lyria standing beyond the storm. Always just out of reach.
When the last shadow fell, Eren collapsed to one knee.
His breath was ragged. His hands were shaking.
But he still held the sword.
The voice returned, quieter now.
"You chose pain. You chose memory. You chose will. That is enough... for now."
The void began to break apart. Light seeped in from unseen cracks. The figure before him began to dissolve.
"You have earned the right to carry me. But beware, bearer every use of this power is a step toward becoming me."
Then everything shattered.
Eren awoke with a gasp.
He lay on the stone floor of the chamber beneath Serathei, soaked in sweat, every limb aching. Elira was beside him, a hand pressed against his chest, a circle of light glowing beneath her palm.
"You're back," she whispered.
He nodded weakly. "How long...?"
"Hours," she said. "I thought I'd lost you."
He looked to his side.
Akreth lay there unchanged in form, but somehow... heavier. Complete.
The runes no longer flickered. They burned. Bright. Solid.
He reached for the blade and it did not resist.
"It spoke to me," he said. "Judged me. It knows everything."
"And?" Elira asked.
"It accepted me."
For the first time, she looked afraid.
"Then we don't have much time," she said. "Now that the sword is whole, they'll come for you."
"Who?" Eren asked.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"The ones who fear the return of the Black Flame."