Fucking Winchesters, Eren swore to himself.He seethed as he made his way towards the exit. His frustration was palpable, like a cloud hovering over him. They played the clips of his fight with Daniel and the hall had suddenly become too small, too devoid of air. He knew what they were doing. They were trying to make him seem unhinged, wild. The kind of person no one would want to touch. The kind of person sponsors would not want to be associated with.Of all the things the Clans considered important, their reputations were paramount. Their reputations made and broke them. Their reputations could be compared to fabric—white, sterile fabric—easy to sully, and William had just made Eren out to be a tree heavy with pomegranates, messy, ripe to bursting.They played the clips and it was as though there was not enough oxygen in the world, as though staying there another minute would
Gaine, Tiana, and Sid found Eren alone at the balcony. He heard them before they came into view, Tiana’s heeled shoes knocking noisily against the hard surface of the ground. "Hey you." Tiana said gently, laying a hand on the small of his back. “Hey,” Eren answered. Sid joined him at the balustrade, leaning over it. His dark hair grazed his shoulders and fell into his face. He swept it aside in a practiced motion. “Dude, you good?” he asked. Gaine stopped a distance away from them, careful not to overstep. The darkness concealed him. Eren appreciated the gesture. A mix of gratitude and lingering irritation ran through him. He was thankful for them, Sid and Tiana. This unlikely band of friends he has made for himself. At the same time, his encounter with William and Jared deeply irritated him. He sighed heavily. "I'll be fine. It has been a long day, that is all." Tiana offered a sympathetic smile. "You have handled it well, considering all things." Musi
Eren heaved his suitcase up the narrow staircase. The building was ancient, its stone walls weathered. He paused at the top landing, catching his breath and glanced down the hallway to find his room number etched in shiny brass on a glossy wooden door. This was to be his room. After the banquet, The Ten were to move into their quarters at the Academy—a single building meant to house them all, Saints and Terrors alike. Eren made the trip back to Silas’s house that night to gather what personal effects he could. He did not own much to begin with, which, admittedly, made things easier, but which also made him sad. Following his mother’s death, Eren was moved around a lot. He made himself unlearn the notion of ownership. It was too painful feeling like he finally belonged to a place, finally owned something, only to be ripped away and sent to a new home. The professor found him in his room that morning, stuffing his bag full of shirts from the wardrobe. Even though the doo
The grand dining hall was just as Eren would have expected it to be — quaint. The room was adorned with towering marble columns at its four corners. Paintings hung from the walls depicting ancient battles, war heroes and politicians. One painting of a beautiful woman, half-fish, half-person, sitting on a beach floor, swallowed one quarter of the wall. A vaulted ceiling that echoed every sound in the room completed the look. All around them was white, aseptic alabaster. Eren tried to not be awed, but failed. The finery made the professor’s house seem like a kennel in comparison. He scanned the room filled with faces he knew too well. Tiana, the Dennin twins, Drake, Daniel, Gaine, Kathlyn, Sithel. They were all seated around the dining table which was an enormous circle of burnished oak, covered in intricate carvings. Oddly, Samantha Dennin seemed to be addressing them. Eren’s brows furrowed and he slid into the empty chair next to Sithel. Samantha acknowledged Ere
Sleep came slowly for Eren, and, when it did come, it was fitful. He spent half the night tossing and turning in his new bed. It was dawn before he fell asleep. Too soon, the sun rose and blindingly, bright light tore through the drapes. Eren’s eyes snapped open. His clock read 7: 45 in red, digital figures. Eren struggled out of bed and got into the shower. It was the first day of class and he was late. Tardiness was not the best, first impression. He hurried into his clothes and down the stairs, only to find Sid waiting for him at the bottom of the stairway in the shared living room. While the Saints and Terrors rooms were split, they shared a living room and the dining area. “Morning, sleepyhead.” Sid said, handing him a Styrofoam cup. Eren sniffed the contents of the cup suspiciously. The liquid was warm against the thin material. “What is this?” “What the hell do you think? Coffee.” “With you, there are so many things I can imagine.” Eren slurped the liquid
“Now, attack me.” Zachary said. Eren raised a brow at his supposed teacher. The rest of the Ten paused and stared at the man in various states of surprise. “What?” Gaine asked, his shock poorly concealed. “Uncle, you cannot be serious.” Zachary never took his eyes off Eren. “I am.” The Ten made a small space for Eren and Zachary in the middle of the sparring room. Eren’s heart was pounding in his chest. But whatever it was, he was certain this feeling was not fear. Zachary shoved his dagger into its sheath and faced Eren unarmed. He spread his arms open, as if to make himself a larger target. This time, Eren did not wait for him to ask again. Neither did he hesitate. He rushed forward and when he was a heartbeat away from Zachary, he shoved the keen end of the katana at the man’s neck. Except Zachary was no longer there. He dodged to the side easily. Eren spun in the direction in which he had gone and slashed at him. Again, Zachary easily evaded him. They carried on
The second day was even more grueling than the first. Diane Grandville was their instructor for the day and as usual, she looked the part. Her dark hair was gathered in a no-nonsense ponytail. She wore cargo pants, combat boots, and a tank top that showed off the sinew in her arms. She had a high forehead and hollow cheeks that made her look like an exotic cat. They were made to gather in a hall much like the sparring room. Eleven lecterns had been installed into the floor, each for one trainee and one of Diane. She began. “Today, we will learn the art of MANNA control. MANNA is, at the end of the day, what sets you apart from the average person. Controlling this gift is not a skill to be taken lightly, as it requires focus, discipline, and dedication.” As the lesson progressed, Diane showed them how to channel their MANNA. Her clan had the ability to control aspects of time, she told them. Due to the delicate nature of their ability an almost surgical control of MANNA is
Many days passed with Eren waiting for instructions from Silas and Vatican Sol. Many, many days of silence came and went. In the beginning, he was perpetually anxious. What if he missed their messages when they eventually came? What if they had come and he simply had not gotten them?Every night, he refreshed his communicator, waiting. For his own safety, they made it such that he could not reach them. Only they could get to him when they wanted. In the meantime, Eren started spending more time with Sid and Tiana. It became his routine. After the day’s classes, he spent the evening with Tiana and Gaine—a strange new addition to the group—in Sid’s room trading stories. Half the time, Tiana was horrified at the things they had done in their childhood, but it made for good laughter. Some evenings were spent outdoors. The Academy had lots of space—the ideal place if you were a wanderer, and Tiana was just that. They tended to follow her most evenings. Some days, they sensed sh
“Samantha Dennin." A female security officer poked her head into the gymnasium of the Academy, looking around for her. “Lord William had requested your audience. Immediately."Samantha stood up abruptly, looked at the officer, and offered her a curt nod of affirmation before removing her gym towel from her neck and following the Security officer out of the gymnasium.The air outside the gym was crispy and cold. Samantha could hear winter’s whisper from the wind and the cold.She smiled as she breathed in the fresh air. She looked forward, and in the distance, she could see the towering building, The Titan, where William Winchester's office was. She was not at a loss about what was going to happen. The new academic session of Winchester Academy started a few days before, and she had hoped that she would be able to participate in it, but William Winchester hadn't said anything yet. For her, whatever William Winchester said would determine the course of her life.“Come in." She hear
It had been three days since the battle, and the Academy was still buzzed with the news of the Great Fight as the students tagged it. Construction started immediately after the fight, and students joined in to make it faster and more effective. The sun shone brighter, and the people were happier. As William had briefed the media, the enemy was incapacitated and wouldn't be coming back. While it shined sunshine and rainbows, doom spelled darkness in the deepest parts of the Academy prison yards. In a state-of-the-art prison, Silas sat, locked up by order of the Awakened judiciary, until his judgment. Vatican Sol was also locked with him. The only problem that the Academy had was the runaway father and son. Edward Dennin and his son, Trevor Dennin. Finding them was becoming a problem because of Edward Dennin's expertise in hiding. However, William made sure that the security team wouldn't rest until they found them both. This became their motivation to look harder and find
Zachary raised his head and was face to face with Silas. He desperately struggled to keep his breath going. He had held on for more than five minutes, waiting for nothing. He just wanted to keep Silas Homer busy so he would not pursue Eren. Eren stood around thirty steps away, transfixed. Zachary understood that he needed more time and was willing to help him obtain it. Zachary had two things that made him determined. The first one was that nothing would happen to his son for as long as he was conscious on the battlefield, and the second was that he wouldn't die until he explained the actual situation to his son.“You think you're all it?" Zachary asked, a disgusted look on his face. Silas's eyes widened like a madman's, obviously not accepting of what Zachary said. “I'm better than a weakling like you!" He shouted. “The world does not need weaklings. You all do nothing more than infest the world with your weakness. It's sickening.”Zachary rasped and chuckled, his face amused.
Night was fast approaching, but the fire of war still burned bright on the summit. Fights continued in different places and spots as MANNA burst forth in various ways and diverse strengths. Despite the bloody battlefield, the colors in the sky splashed out in equipoise. The blues and green and orange, the sky prided itself in its contrast to the mortality of men. The sky looked upon the men of the ground with pity as they stole life from one another and sent their souls to nowhere.Eren Trost ran into the battlefield with a roar of rage and snatched the Helm of Tyrants from Silas Homer, yanking it from his head. The older man didn't notice that a few of his hair was torn along with it. His pride and trust in the Helm of Tyrant were going to be his doom, and he didn't know it yet. Slowly, the great level of MANNA, which was running through his veins and synced with blood, left him. Realizing that he had been rid of the power he depended on, Silas Homer looked around in haste, des
The day was beginning to bleed into the evening, but the fighting field retained its activity. Jared Khan was faced by his children at the eastern end of the fighting field. Kathlyn had her hand on her hip as she faced her father, angrily questioning him about his decisions.“Dad! You don't have to do this.” She ran towards him to stop him from hurting innocent people. Jared Khan ignored them and tossed the guard he had just beaten up, who had slumped to the side. After he saw that the space around him was empty and no guard or soldier was standing that he could attack or fight with, he reluctantly faced his children.“Father, " Drake started. “Why are you doing this?” He transformed back and stood behind his sister, hoping that she could knock him back into reality.Drake had always believed Kathlyn to be their father's favorite. Growing up, she always got their father's love and attention, which was different from his experience. Drake hoped that his sister's being more loved
Eren kept his gaze on Sid. Not out of caution but to seek his little bit of regret. But he got nothing. Despite his rage and anger-infused questions, Sid didn't respond; he just retained his blank, emotionless look, further enraging Eren.“Say something!" Eren shouted again, hoping Sid would respond and, at the least, tell him why he was doing what he was. Why did he choose to follow Silas despite his sinister plans to destroy the Awakened society and the world as they knew it?Despite Eren's hurt, which he deliberately ignored to focus on restoring his image, finding Silas, returning the Helm of Tyrants, and finding the truth behind his mother's death, he wanted to believe that Sid wasn't doing it voluntarily. He wanted to believe that he had a reason why he betrayed his trust and followed Silas“I have nothing to say to you, Eren," Sid said, unsheathing his daggers tucked in the leather pouch. Eren's face slowly pulled into a confused frown, and he wracked his head, trying to
A dark cloud covered the sun and enveloped the area in the seminar hall, making it look like the evening. MANNA glowed in diverse colors in different spots and places as the Awakened society attacked one another. The Awakened who followed Silas came rushing into the arena, and William's trained soldiers attacked them with power and strength on par with Silas's Awakened. Flashes of sword fights and MANNA shots filled the seminar ground. The dark cloud that covered the sun slowly peeled off its surface, revealing the faces of each person to their opponent.The thrill of victory dried off Eren's nerves as he ran to the fighting ground, his heart beating hard as he approached the middle of the fight. He could see William's braided white hair in the distance, and he rushed to the scene, stopping about twenty steps behind him to get a clearer vision from the proximity. A smirk grew on his lips as he counted; he realized that they had more numbers than Silas's team. William and other p
On the night before the summit, the Academy held its breath in dread and anxiety. Despite the preparations that had been made, the question of the uncertainty of what could happen still lingered in the air.The Helm of Tyrants was the most feared trinket in the Academy, so it was kept safe in the Academy Head’s office, the safest place on the Academy grounds, second only to the Academy vault. The uncertainty of the next day kept William in the middle of his office by 8 p.m., pacing a hole in the ground.William walked to the northern end of his office, where the transparent glass wall was, and looked out of the window; the north side of the Academy was completely open to him. Thoughts of what could happen the next day filled his mind. He thought of thousands of scenarios in which they won and a million in which they lost. His father had spoken to Zachary and him since they were teenagers about the Helm of Tyrants and its great power. In the wrong hands, the world as they know it
Drake sat opposite the large window in his Academy dorm room, his hands intertwined behind his head as he rocked the wooden dorm chair. Sighing for the fourth time in a minute, he brushed one hand through his hair, the dirty blonde shining a hue of gold as the morning sun streamed into his room when the clouds cleared off it.“Ugh," He groaned, his hands sliding down his face, muffling his voice. This is sweet hell, he thought and stood up abruptly, causing the chair to tip back and almost fall. Drake swiftly held it back and positioned it to face his desk, the chair frame now facing away from the window.Drake stood up to check the window. The glass was completely transparent, giving him a clear view of what was going on on the ground floor. It was bustling with activities. Drake perceived it as preparations for Silas Homer’s suspected plan to destroy the major clan leaders and senators all at once during the nation's leaders' summit, which was a few days away.He used animal he