Wall Maria – Shiganshina District
"No pain, no gain. Every drop of sweat will be rewarded."
The sentence echoed in his mind like an unwelcome mantra.
Shin's face twisted slightly. That line, out of nowhere, felt like a slap in the face—and then came the memories. Strange, vivid memories that didn't belong to him. His mind throbbed as fragments of another life—this life—pieced themselves together, like a puzzle assembling itself against his will. The towering walls looming in the distance, the quiet cobblestone streets of a district nestled in a corner of humanity's last bastion... It all struck him with a sense of grim familiarity.
His stomach churned.
This was the world of Attack on Titan.
Shin staggered, the realization crashing down on him like a falling boulder.
He clenched his fists. No, no, no. This has to be a dream.
But it wasn't.
"This... has got to be a joke," he muttered. "I mean, come on! Attack on Titan? Of all places?!"
He remembered watching the anime—its gut-wrenching tension, the horror, the hopelessness. He'd binged the manga, too, following every arc with die-hard devotion. The blood. The screams. The overwhelming despair. He admired the series, sure—but live in it?
"Screw that!"
Just as panic threatened to overtake him, a flicker of hope emerged in the form of a sudden thought.
"Wait... I should have a cheat, right? A golden finger?"
That was how it worked in all the stories—reincarnation came with a perk, a special ability to even the odds. Right?
As if on cue, the emotionless voice returned in his head:
"No pain, no gain. Every drop of sweat will be rewarded."
Shin froze.
"...Are you serious?"
Was that it?
This was his cheat?
A motivational quote that sounded like it belonged on a poster in a gym?
"Hell no! This is my golden finger? You've got to be kidding me!" he yelled, half in disbelief and half in growing despair. "I didn't die and wake up in Titan-hell just to get a system that spits out fitness slogans!"
There was no response.
Just silence—and that damned slogan still lingering in his mind like the taste of something bitter.
His complaints were cut short by a sudden voice calling out to him:
"Ronan! Hey, Ronan! What are you doing just standing around? The Survey Corps is coming back! Don't you wanna go see them?!"
The voice snapped Shin back to reality.
He turned, startled, and his eyes fell on a boy about nine years old, eyes bright with excitement and energy, running toward him.
Shin blinked.
"...Eren?"
He could hardly believe it. It was definitely Eren Yeager—though younger than Shin had last seen him in the anime. Before all the tragedy. Before the world broke him.
And Eren wasn't alone. Behind him, Shin could spot Mikasa's quiet silhouette and Armin's more hesitant steps following along.
The memories flooding into Shin's head made more sense now. In this world, he was known as Ronan Bernstein, a thirteen-year-old boy. The oldest of their little group. His father had served in the Survey Corps, dying on an expedition outside the walls when Shin—Ronan—was only ten. His mother, unable to handle the grief, passed away the following year. Since then, he'd lived alone, supported by the small stipend given to families of fallen soldiers.
He'd grown up near Eren's house. The three kids had clung to him like a big brother—not by blood, but by bond.
"Looks like I really landed on the protagonist team from the start..." Shin muttered to himself.
Before he could linger on the thought, Eren grabbed his arm and pulled him along.
"C'mon, stop spacing out! We're gonna miss them if you don't hurry!"
Letting Eren drag him forward, Shin began to process everything. He could feel the strength in this new body—still young, but hardened by the life of a child raised in a walled world. The memories were clear now. The house, the training, the grief. It was all becoming disturbingly real.
Yet, some part of him found comfort in the orphan backstory. It meant fewer emotional ties—no strangers to call "Mom" and "Dad." That would've been unbearable.
"At least I've got a roof over my head and something to eat," Shin reasoned grimly. "Could've been worse."
Then his heart sank again.
The year was 844. That meant only one thing.
"Next year... the wall falls."
Shin's expression darkened.
He knew what was coming. The Colossal Titan. The Armored Titan. The screaming. The death. The beginning of humanity's collapse.
But no matter how he cursed his fate, it didn't change the reality.
He was here now.
Like it or not, he had to survive.
Shin glanced at the kids running beside him—Eren, wild and full of righteous fury. Mikasa, quiet but watchful. Armin, thoughtful and a little out of breath.
They were still so innocent.
So unaware of what was about to come.
He couldn't help but feel a pang of something like protectiveness. These three... they would soon shoulder the weight of the world.
And now he was part of their story.
But what could he even do?
"Cheat system, are you listening?" Shin muttered internally. "You better be more than a glorified life coach."
The system's response?
"No pain, no gain. Every drop of sweat will be rewarded."
"Goddammit."
He almost tripped in frustration.
How the hell was he supposed to survive in this world with nothing but fortune-cookie wisdom and a vague promise of 'rewards' for hard work?
He couldn't bring any useful science from his previous life. Modern math and chemistry wouldn't help much in a world where swords and cannons were humanity's best defense. What he needed was strength. Skills. Something that could help him last long enough to make a difference—or at least not die screaming in a Titan's mouth.
Step one, he decided grimly: survive.
Everything else came after that.
By the time they reached the main road leading to the city gate, Shin was drenched in sweat. The Shiganshina District wasn't exactly small, and even as the southernmost outpost on Wall Maria, it took real effort to get anywhere on foot.
He hunched forward, panting, every muscle aching. His lungs burned. His legs trembled.
Beside him, Eren doubled over, hands on his knees. "Hah... hah... We made it! Gates aren't open yet—we're not late!"
"Great," Shin grunted, wiping sweat from his brow.
He looked up at the wall—titanic, foreboding, stretching up into the clouds like a barrier to heaven itself.
His breath caught in his throat.
That was what humanity believed would protect them.
That was what the people trusted.
But Shin knew better.
That wall was built from the very monsters they feared.
Then, just as he was catching his breath, a cold mechanical voice rang in his mind:
Ding! Host has successfully run 1,132.526 meters. Endurance +1.
Shin froze.
"…Wait, what?"
His eye twitched.
"Are you telling me... I just got a stat increase from running?!"
There was no follow-up message, but it clicked instantly.
That was it. That was the system.
Every drop of sweat would be rewarded. Literally.
If he trained, he would grow stronger. If he pushed himself, the system would respond. The more he endured, the more capable he'd become.
"…That's actually not bad," Shin admitted, a grin slowly forming.
It wasn't flashy. No laser beams. No Titan-shattering magic.
But if he played it right, he could mold himself into something more. Stronger. Faster. Smarter. A survivor in a world where people died like flies.
He looked at the sky, sun blazing above the great wall, the breeze brushing his face, and a flicker of hope sparked within him.
"Alright," he muttered to himself. "Let's see just how far I can go."
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A/N: Please Leave A Comment Or Drop A Powerstone It'll mean alot to me...