The sun spilled through the barracks window, cutting shafts of gold across the rows of beds where the new recruits lay resting after a brutal day of training. Most groaned in their sleep, dreaming of titans or aching muscles.
But Eren Jaeger was wide awake. His lips curved into a faint smirk as he leaned casually against a wooden post, watching his newest experiment unfold.
Across from him sat Ymir. The perpetually smug brunette, usually unflappable, now looked like she had accidentally swallowed a thorn. Her eyes kept darting from him to Krista, then back again, as if she were fighting a war inside her head.
It was working.
The Cougar Trap. A ridiculous-sounding name for an equally ridiculous ability he'd acquired back in the DxD world, but its effectiveness was undeniable. It tugged at the hidden threads of attraction in women older than him, slowly tightening them until "casual interest" turned into "desperate craving."
And Ymir, ancient soul(technically 70+) wrapped in a youthful body, was the perfect victim.
"You have become more welcoming that before huh?" Eren asked quietly. His voice wasn't mocking or sharp—it was steady, even kind.
Ymir blinked, her usual sharp tongue stumbling over itself. "Tch. Don't flatter yourself, kid. You're barely worth noticing, your presence doesn't intreset me."
"You've been acting starnge lately ,something wrong?" Eren asked.
Ymir scoffed, though it came out weaker than intended. "Tch. Don't act like you care."
"I asked, didn't I?" His tone was even, simple.
Krista giggled softly, oblivious to the undercurrent. "You two already sound like an old married couple."
Ymir choked on air. Married couple? With him?! Her brain scrambled. She liked Krista—no, she loved Krista. That was supposed to be the one constant in her messed-up life. So why did her heart trip every time this brat smirked at her? Why did she suddenly imagine… no, no, nope. Bad Ymir.
"Don't lump me in with this idiot," she snapped at Krista, cheeks tinged pink. "He's just… persistent. Maybe he is chasing after me."
"The hell I am!" Eren barked. ' This bitch is teasing the great me. You amature, I have suffered from worse.'
Krista blinked between them, confusion softening her features. She wasn't sure what was happening, but… she noticed something odd. Ymir treated Eren differently. She wasn't mocking him the way she mocked Connie or Jean. She wasn't brushing him off like a nuisance. She engaged with him. And that was strange enough to catch Krista's sharp eye.
So Krista smiled, that gentle angelic curve of lips that made even hardened recruits soften. "If Ymir likes you, then I guess I can trust you too."
Both Ymir and Eren froze.
"Krista—" Ymir started, ready to deny, to argue, to explain herself—
Eren gave a small nod, acknowledging Krista's trust without exaggeration. "That's enough for me," he said simply.
Krista laughed again, bright and innocent. Ymir clenched her fists, glaring at Eren like she wanted to throttle him. Yet beneath the glare… her pulse betrayed her. Why does this feel almost as good as when Krista smiles at me?
Of course, their little triangle couldn't remain unnoticed for long.
From a few beds away, Mikasa's eyes narrowed dangerously. She'd been watching Eren joke with Ymir and Krista for several minutes now, each laugh from Krista and each blush from Ymir stabbing at her chest like a blade.
Finally, she stood. Silent, graceful, predatory. Like a shadow crossing the room.
She slid into their circle without asking, planting herself between Eren and Krista. Her gaze flicked at Ymir—sharp, assessing, hostile—before locking on Eren.
"What are you talking about?" she asked flatly.
"Nothing important," Eren said, tone calm, as if to diffuse any tension. "Just passing time."
Krista beamed at Mikasa. "We were just chatting. Ymir was saying he isn't as bad as he looks."
"Don't twist my words," Ymir muttered, flustered.
Mikasa's gaze slid to Ymir, cool and unreadable. Then she turned back to Eren. "You should rest. Tomorrow will be harder."
"I know," Eren said, nodding.
Still… she stayed. Folding her arms, she sat down right beside him, deliberately pressing close. A silent declaration: He's mine.
Ymir noticed. Her eye twitched. Humph! my heart is only for Krista
Krista, oblivious, clapped her hands lightly. "Then I guess we'll all do our best tomorrow."
Eren, meanwhile, was enjoying himself far too much. Jealous Ymir. Jealous Mikasa. Sweet, oblivious Krista. Yep, this party's just getting started.
Next evening, when training finally gave them a breather, the recruits gathered in small groups. A fire crackled in the center of camp, the glow pushing back the night.
Reiner, Bertholdt, Connie, Marco, and Jean sat together, trading quiet words. Their faces were serious, shadows flickering across their features.
"The day the wall fell…" Connie muttered, voice low. "I still hear the screams sometimes."
"Yeah," Marco said softly, staring into the flames. "I keep thinking… what if I'd run faster? Could I have saved more people?"
Bertholdt's shoulders hunched, guilt flickering behind his eyes. He forced a nod, playing the role of traumatized survivor. Reiner, steady as ever, put a hand on his friend's back.
"We all lost someone," Reiner said, his tone calm, dependable. "That's why we're here. To make sure it doesn't happen again."
The others nodded, comforted by his solidity.
From across the fire, Eren watched. His eyes half-lidded, smirk fading into something colder. Impressive. Their acting is airtight. If I didn't know better, I'd believe them too. Soldiers. Victims. Brothers-in-arms.
But he did know better. Behind those earnest eyes lurked monsters.
Reiner the Armored Titan. Bertholdt the Colossal Titan. Annie the Female Titan. The demons who had torn down the wall and slaughtered thousands, now laughing and training among them as if they belonged.
Eren's hand clenched into a fist. Not from grief—he'd long buried that—but from dark exhilaration.
They're here. Right here. The wolves pretending to be sheep.
As the fire burned low and recruits drifted to their beds, Eren remained awake, gaze fixed on the traitors across the camp.
His thoughts spiraled, sharp and hungry.
Three titans. Three weapons. Three stepping stones.
He could almost taste it—the power, the leverage. The Founding and Attack titans already coiled within him, but with those three… he'd be unstoppable.
Historia's royal blood. Ymir's devotion. Mikasa's strength. And now, three more titans within reach.
His lips curled into a shadowed grin.
Yes. If I play this right, they won't just be my enemies. They'll be my prey.
The night wind howled over the camp, carrying the faint echo of laughter from half-asleep recruits.
End of Chapter 30