Chapter 82: Bertolt's End
High command ultimately approved Floch's request.
Faced with the immense pressure of the outside world, the deep despair for the future, and Floch's resolute attitude that seemed to fit their "practical needs," any opposition seemed weak and powerless.
They needed a "devil" who could bear the weight of the lives that would be taken.
And Floch had volunteered.
…
On an empty field, Bertolt was bound tightly to a specially made wooden frame, his limbs twisted at unnatural angles. To prevent him from transforming, any limb that showed the slightest sign of healing was mercilessly severed again. The continuous pain and blood loss had left him semi-conscious, his face as white as paper.
He weakly lifted his eyelids and watched as the cold needle was inserted into Floch's arm.
The Titan serum… The power of their homeland, and the curse that brought endless suffering.
A flash of light. It was golden lightning—violent, primal, and filled with an aura of destruction. Floch's body twisted and expanded within the light. Bones snapped, muscles tore and regenerated.
A Pure Titan appeared in Bertolt's blurry vision. Its face was placid, its eyes holding only a pure, instinctual hunger. The Titan swayed its massive body, radiating a nauseating heat and stench. Driven by instinct, it began to walk toward him, step by step.
Death. So concrete, so immense.
Bertolt's heart was suddenly seized by a boundless terror. The calm resignation he had felt just moments before was instantly torn to shreds.
He thought of his sick father back home, the person who had been his reason for carrying out this sinful mission, the family member who might live out the rest of his days in peace because of his son's status as an honorary Marleyan. I'm sorry… I can't go back…
He thought of Reiner, his comrade who always pretended to be strong but was so broken inside he had developed a split personality. Reiner… you have to… live…
He thought of Annie, the girl who seemed so cold on the outside but longed for a normal life. The feelings he had never dared to confess, the secret glances, the unspoken words of concern—all of it would be buried forever with his death. Is she okay? Will she hear that I've died? Will she be sad for me? Even just a little… Annie, you always wanted to go home… I hope you make it back to your father safely…
He even thought of the brief but real time he had spent in training on Paradis Island. Jean, Connie, Sasha… and… Armin. The laughter, the arguments… those comrades, so precious, with whom his life should never have intersected… Why did it turn out like this?
Guilt, regret, longing, and fear churned within him.
The giant's massive shadow completely enveloped him. Its eyes were empty and hungry, staring blankly at him. Its open mouth reeked of a suffocating stench.
No… no…
He began to struggle violently, the iron chains rattling. His maimed body couldn't offer any effective resistance, only a futile twisting.
"EVERYONE— HELP ME!!!"
"REINER!!!"
"ANNIE!!!"
The cries for help ripped from his throat, his voice cracking with utter despair. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to be eaten like this. Fear overrode everything. Tears mixed with cold sweat and streamed from the corners of his eyes.
Then, the sound of tearing flesh.
An indescribable pain shot through his entire body. Bones were crushed with ease. His vision became a bloody blur. His last sensation was the sickening sound of swallowing, and the cold darkness that consumed him completely.
…
At the edge of the field, Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Connie, Jean, and Sasha watched it all. He was their enemy, but he had also been their comrade. To see a former friend devoured so brutally was still too much to bear.
Only Levi and Erwin watched on, their faces impassive. This was war. This was survival. There was no room for weakness.
After the succession was complete, Floch's human form was torn from the Titan's nape. He stood there, naked and breathing heavily, looking up at the sky. His eyes were dazed. He could feel the vast power surging within him, feel the fragments of Bertolt's memories—the pain, the guilt, the fear, the regret.
But he didn't care.
"So this is it…" he whispered. "The power of a devil…"
He was the new "devil." Bertolt's weakness would end with him. For the future of Eldia, he would… offer everything.
…
Underground. A solitary prison cell, lit by the faint glow of crystal.
Annie remained sealed in her hardened crystal, isolated from the world.
"—and so, it's been super busy lately, everyone's so on edge," Hitch's voice, with its usual lazy drawl, couldn't hide a trace of exhaustion. She leaned against the wall, talking to the crystal. "The Survey Corps guys came back, but they look like they've been through hell. Heard they retook Wall Maria, though. The higher-ups all have faces as black as the bottom of a pot, which means us grunts in the MP have to run ourselves ragged."
"Heard they brought back an important prisoner," she continued. "Seems like he's been… dealt with. Kinda scary."
"Don't know when you'll get out of there. Isn't it stuffy, being in there all the time?"
She chattered on, complaining about work, sharing rumors, occasionally asking questions that would never be answered. It was her way of relieving stress, and a strange form of companionship for her old comrade. Finally, she grew tired of talking and stood up, stretching.
"Alright, that's it for today. I'll come see you again tomorrow."
Her footsteps echoed as she turned to leave. Just then, another set of footsteps approached from the other end of the tunnel. It was Armin. His face was gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes, and he walked with a heavy tread.
They met in the narrow passage. Hitch paused, then gave him a somewhat helpless smile. "Yo, Armin. Come to see her again?"
Armin looked up, his eyes dull, and just nodded tiredly. "Yeah."
They didn't say much more. They could both see the weight and confusion in each other's eyes. Hitch sighed and patted Armin's shoulder in a gesture of silent comfort before walking past him, her footsteps fading away.
Armin walked to the front of the crystal and slowly sat down in the spot Hitch had just vacated. The cold of the ground seeped through his clothes. He leaned against the wall, curling up, seeking a sliver of security.
He gazed at the face in the crystal. The beautiful face, sleeping peacefully.
"Annie," he said, his voice barely a whisper.
"Bertolt is dead."