He thought of his mother, arms pinned beneath the fallen beam. Of Hannes, drunk and useless, unable to lift a spear. Of the colossal titan's bald, steaming head peering over the wall like a demon sun.
Behind them, Armin clutched a weathered book to his chest—the one with faded diagrams of saltwater and burning seas. If we survive this, he thought, I'll finally see them. opening 2 aot
Somewhere in the chaos, Armin whispered to himself: "A world of fire and ice. It has to be real." He thought of his mother, arms pinned beneath