On The Bench (AOT/DxD)

[Kalstorm22]

Thank you for writing, See you next time.

 

[ReadingDangerously]

After a long absence, and to celebrate the year anniversary of On The Bench, here are those fan-made omakes I promised... ages ago.

Stick around to the AN at the end for a little surprise I have cooked up.

********

Omake: But at what cost? by

Sagely Hijinks

over on Spacebattles.​

Eren Yeager died his second death with a smile on his face.

He had accomplished what he set out to do.

The devils had lost their ability to use Evil Pieces - and thus, their ability to recruit humans. The angels would never be able to make Brave Saints.

The Fallen had lost Azazel, and with him, all of their research on extracting Sacred Gears.

The system set up by the Christian God would work once again as intended; humans with extraordinary power, either through reincarnation or Sacred Gear, would be able to fight back against the supernatural.

The other mythological factions were similarly neutered through Eren's careful orchestration of the evil gods.

Ophis had beat back the Great Red and returned to the dimensional gap, with no further earthly attachments left alive.

Finally... humans were free once more.

Well. For a time.

A few years afterwards, well after Eren had passed and his tenuous equilibrium had been established, everything once more fell into chaos.

Invaders from a foreign dimension, calling themselves Evie, had come to conquer the Earth - which they referred to as "Draconic Deus".

They came holding the severed heads of the Dragons that had lived in the Gap. They arrived to a world with nobody strong enough to contest them.

In another timeline, the gods of Evie would have been stopped by a heroic Oppai dragon.

In this one, the world was quickly subjugated.

Humanity once again lost control of its own fate, but in a different way. Previously, humanity had been mostly autonomous, with any of the less subtle control happening in the background. Now, humanity was well aware of the fact that it was little more than cattle living on borrowed time.

The End.

********

Semi Cannon Omake: Future's Recipe by

Netra

over on Spacebattles​

"Verdict?"

Crunch.

"Kuroka?"

Crunch.

"Kuroka."

"If you already know what I'm going to say, why even bother asking?" the Nekoshou continued munching as she stared at a boy who was barely taller than the table counter he was peeking over.

"I need to know if the cookies are good. They're important," his voice, flat and empty, felt wrong coming out of the mouth of a child his age.

"You didn't answer my question, Eren."

"…"

Predictably, he didn't respond. He never did. Whenever she tried to pry further into how his future sight worked, the boy known as Eren Yeager simply ignored her. Her words would always fall on deaf ea—

"I want to hear you say it."

Kuroka paused mid-chew, her ears twitching at the boy's insistence. She swallowed the bite of cookie, the crunching noise stopping as she placed the remaining half on the tray.

"Alright, Partnyaa," she relented, her golden eyes narrowing playfully. "They're good."

Really good. She wasn't even lying. The cookies tasted amazing. Crisp on the outside, but soft and chewy on the inside. Just the right amount of sweetness without being overpowering.

After seeing the boy raze an entire devil estate to the ground (not to mention transforming into a colossal monstrosity), baking quality cookies wasn't even in the top one-hundred of things she'd thought Eren would do next. So imagine her surprise when he told her they'd be sneaking into a café past its closing time.

A café that coincidentally had all the ingredients he needed readily stocked.

The stray watched him work as he preheated the oven, mixed eggs and flour into a bowl, molded the dough into small, even circles, and meticulously placed them on the baking sheet before shoving it in. She wasn't in any way experienced in the culinary arts, but she could tell there was barely any wasted movement in his actions.

Eren had clearly done this before. His small hands effortlessly cracked open the eggs, he skipped using measuring cups for the flour, and he twisted the oven timer's dial without even glancing at the numbers. His movements were precise and swift, yet carried a nonchalance that spoke of experience, as if he had performed this same routine dozens of times.

It would've been even more impressive if he didn't need to stand on a wooden stool to reach the kitchen countertop (it was adorable!).

Eren's expression didn't change, but there was a brief glimmer in his eyes that hinted at satisfaction after hearing her compliment his work. He carefully picked up one of the cookies, examining it closely before taking a bite. His chewing was methodical, as if he was analyzing every aspect of the flavor and texture.

Kuroka watched him with a mix of curiosity and amusement. "So, what's the big deal with these cookies?" she asked, leaning on the counter.

Eren finished his bite and swallowed before responding. "They're for someone important. I need them to be perfect."

Kuroka's ears twitched again, this time in genuine curiosity. "Important, nyaa? More important than little old me?" she teased.

Eren didn't rise to the bait. "Yes," he said simply.

The nekoshou's playful expression softened slightly. Despite Eren's cold demeanor, she had grown fond of the boy. He was mysterious and often frustratingly silent, but there was a depth to him that she couldn't ignore.

Not to mention, he was her only chance to reunite with Shirone. Kuroka tolerated his antics solely because he promised he would clear her name and bring her back to her beloved little sister. All she had to do was train him in Senjutsu and play as his secretary cat, even though she doubted he could become better than her in the sage arts, much less become one of the top ten.

Though deep down, the stray hoped he would. Because if he did become one of the strongest beings in this world like his "clairvoyance" told him, that meant he was also right about Shirone.

Kuroka pried another hot cookie off the tray.

"Haven't you already perfected them?"

He didn't respond.

She took a bite of her cookie. "I doubt a boy your age could be that powerful and simultaneously be a cooking prodigy, so I'm assuming the reason you bake so well is because you've already done it in the future. Just like how you knew about Shirone because I eventually tell you about her. Did I get that right, nyaa?"

Eren simply stared at her.

"Here's what I don't understand though, if you've already found the exact way to bake a perfect batch of cookies, why even go through the trial and error of trying to perfect them in the first place?"

"Our steps toward the outcome are what shape the outcome itself."

Oooohhh ominous. But….. it didn't really tell her anything. At least, anything related to how his power worked.

Eren glanced at the tray of cookies with an unreadable expression. "They're for someone who's going to help us. Someone crucial to our plans."

Kuroka's interest piqued. "And what kind of person needs cookies to be convinced nyaa?"

"Someone with a sweet tooth and a lot of influence. Trust me, it'll make sense when we meet her."

Her? A woman? So they weren't in the top ten then.

He took another bite. "This batch isn't even close to perfect, the ones I'll make won't even be comparable. That's why I need you to teach me Senjutsu as soon as possible."

"Hmmm? What does Senjustsu have to do wi–"

Pause. Just like that, her mind needed a moment to connect the dots. Eren could almost see the gears turning inside her head. "Y-You want to use Senjutsu. To bake cookies….?"

"Yes. I'm going to use it to grow perfect ingredients and then bake cookies with the–"

"WHY!?!?!? What happened to becoming the fourth strongest being on the planet? I thought you'd use it to train and get stronger, nyaa!"

Eren met her incredulous gaze with calm determination. "I will become the fourth strongest being on the planet. But to get there, I need allies, resources, and influence. These cookies are just a part of that plan."

Kuroka laughed. Laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all. Her laughter echoed through the empty café, a stark contrast to Eren's stoic demeanor. She shook her head, her golden eyes sparkling with amusement.

For a long moment, the pair lapsed into silence, the crunching of cookies the only sound hanging in the air between them. The tension was palpable, but neither seemed willing to break it. The room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows on the walls, and the scent of freshly baked cookies mingled with the faint aroma of coffee beans.

After what felt like an eternity, one of them finally spoke.

"Do you think she'll forgive me?"

"I already told you. I don't know. All I can do is give you the chance. The rest is up to you."

That's what bothered her. He knew about her past. He knew they would take over an entire faction led by the wielder of the True Longinus. He knew he would eventually become powerful enough to rival the current Lucifers. He even knew he would rank among the top ten, fourth no less. He had a detailed ten-year roadmap of how the future would unfold. Yet, he didn't know if her cute little Shirone would forgive her?

In eleven I will be dead.

The words he had spoken beneath the Dantalion manor echoed in her mind. Eren had uttered them with such certainty, and it sent a shiver down her spine every time she recalled it. But they were just the words she needed to piece the puzzle. A hypothesis began to take shape, one she planned to explore further at a later time.

"I don't even know if I can face her after everything I put her through," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eren, as always, remained silent. His expression was unreadable, but Kuroka could sense his unwavering attention on her. She felt a bitter chuckle escape her lips again, this time devoid of any humor.

"I failed her, you know?" Kuroka continued, her voice trembling slightly. "Shirone was just a child, and I was supposed to protect her. Instead, I dragged her into this mess, into my mess. I thought I was strong enough to shield her from the consequences, but I was wrong. I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't keep her safe."

The memories flooded back, each one more painful than the last. She remembered the fear in Shirone's eyes when their parents died, the way her sister clung to her, seeking comfort and protection. She recalled the look of hesitant joy on Shirone's face when they both became reincarnated devils for the Naberius clan, believing they could once again have a home—a family. Only for it all to come crashing down.

She recalled the sheer terror on Shirone's face as she stood over the bloody corpse of their former master. An expression she never thought her cute little sister would ever level at her.

Kuroka had promised to keep her safe, to always be there for her no matter what. But those promises had been broken, shattered by the harsh beating stick of reality.

"I hate it. I hate how weak I am. I should have been stronger," she admitted.

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, the pain a welcome distraction. "I don't even know why I'm following you, Eren. Maybe I was just desperate enough to believe your promises, to cling to any hope that came my way."

The stray stared at the crumbs in her hands, a smile playing on her lips. She didn't expect Eren to say anything, and he didn't. Silence fell between them again, a silence heavy with unspoken words. She didn't know what he thought about her confession, but she knew that he understood. In his own way, he was carrying a weight just as heavy as hers.

She let out a hearty laugh. "Don't get me wrong nyaa. That little display you gave me in the Naberius manor wasn't anything to scoff at. It was more than enough to put the fear of Go-(ow!)-Satan in me. So don't worry Partnyaa! I'll fulfill my end of the dea–

"It's enough."

"Nyaa?"

"Your regrets. Your sins. They're more than enough," a boy who barely reached her chest stared at her with a maturity and depth far beyond his years.

"If it's what keeps you going, keeps you moving forward, then hold on to them. Hold on to them with the hopes of finding redemption. Use them as fuel to become stronger, become better."

Kuroka blinked, taken aback by his words. Despite his age, there was something almost sage-like about him. She had never met anyone like Eren before, and though she was wary of his mysterious knowledge and cold demeanor, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope.

"Redemption, huh?" she murmured, looking down at the half-eaten cookie in her hand. "You really think she'll take me back?"

"Like I said, I don't know. I never meet her, so I can't see her. I don't know if she'll accept you with open arms or reject you completely. All I can do is give you the chance.

"And if the latter happens?"

"Then that's on you."

Kuroka mulled over Eren's words, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. The idea of redemption was foreign to her; it had always seemed like a luxury she couldn't afford. If she was in Shirone's shoes, she wouldn't forgive herself either. But Eren's calm certainty, even in the face of unknowns, stirred something in her. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way for her to find peace.

The silence stretched, filled only with the occasional clinking of the café's equipment and the faint hum of the air conditioner. Kuroka finished her cookie, savoring the last crumbs, and then pushed the tray towards Eren.

"You're a strange one, Eren Yeager," she said, her voice softer now. "But you've given me a lot to think about. I'll make sure not to mess it up when I finally arrive at the opportunity."

Eren looked at her, his expression as impassive as ever, but there was a glint in his eyes—a hint of understanding, perhaps even empathy. "Everyone has their own path to walk Kuroka," he said quietly. "It's up to you how you choose to walk it."

Kuroka nodded slowly, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. But enough of the heavy stuff." She stood up, stretching her arms above her head, her ears flicking playfully. "We've got work to do if you want to become the best cookie-baking future-seeing powerhouse around, Partnyaa!"

After tidying up, a flash of light enveloped the pair, and they vanished, leaving behind only the lingering scent of freshly baked cookies and the faint echoes of their conversation in the empty café.

The next day, the café owner arrived to find everything just as she had left it, save for five cookies sealed inside a tupperware on the counter with a note that read:

"Thank you for the ingredients. The cookies were delicious. We cleaned up after ourselves. - E."

The owner blinked at the note, puzzled, but shrugged it off as she sampled one of the cookies.

She couldn't deny they were indeed delicious.

********

Semi Cannon Omake: Of Simpler Times by

Netra

over on Spacebattles​

Inhale.

Exhale.

It was peaceful.

So very peaceful.

Free from the future. Free from the past. Living only in the present. He had almost forgotten the feeling. The feeling of existing in the moment on its lonesome.

Ever since he turned six, for as long as he could remember—or rather, for as long as memory had meaning—his new life had been a swirling maelstrom of moments. Past, present, and future coiled together in an endless loop, impossible to separate, like tangled threads of a tapestry too intricate to unravel. To him, time was not a linear path but an all-encompassing ocean in which he drifted, pulled in every direction at once.

But here, on this simple wooden bench, beneath the canopy of rustling leaves, he was free. The chaos subsided. The waves stilled. He could breathe.

It felt alien….and familiar. He could feel the rough grain of the wood beneath his fingers, the coolness of the late afternoon breeze on his face, and the warmth of the sun high above. These were not echoes of moments from countless different lifetimes, but singular experiences—sharp, vivid, and real.

No future. No past. Just….this.

In his heart of hearts, he wished it could last forever. To have the weight of the future lifted from his shoulders, and the echoes of the past quiet to a distant hum. But he knew it wouldn't be, that it would never be. He would keep moving forward and inevitably die with this power. This was his burden to carry. He could not escape it, no matter how desperately he might wish otherwise.

Which was why he endeavored to enjoy this brief respite as much as possible.

He closed his eyes and let himself sink deeper into the calm. For a fleeting moment, he was just Eren, a young man sitting on a bench, with no weight of destiny on his shoulders, no curse of knowledge. His thoughts were not a tangle of decisions and repercussions, but simple things—on the feel of the wind, the rustle of leaves, the way the–the–


" 『ZA WARUDO』 TOKI O TOMARE! "


….the way the red-haired devil girl beside him yelled at the top of her lungs.

Eren sobered up.

Rias Gremory. The heiress of the Gremory clan, one of the highest ranking devil families of the remaining 72 pillars of hell. One of the few inheritors of the Power of Destruction, the very power the original Lucifer had wielded to erase his enemies.

Someone Eren had never expected to befriend.

Someone Eren had never even expected to meet.

Someone who did not know what he planned to do to her home and people.

Someone who thought of him as naught but a dying blind boy to be pitied and looked after.

Someone—who was now raising his arms laterally, facing his palms forward.

"Remember! THIS is the pose he strikes as he says it. And don't forget, he's floating in the air using his Stand powers the whole time," her excitement was palpable as she lifted his arms into position.

"Now say it with me, Eren. To-ki-Wo-To-ma-re. It means 'stop time.'"

Eren cleared his throat. He knew better than to argue whenever she got this excited.

"Toh. Kee. Yo. Tow. Ma. Rhe," he repeated slowly, carefully enunciating each syllable.

Rias giggled at his awkward attempt, her eyes lighting up with amusement. "Close enough," she said, still holding his arms in place. "But you've got to put some oomph into it! It's like you're commanding the universe itself to come to a halt."

She yelled again, but this time in a deeper, more masculine voice, and he couldn't help but be amused at the absurdity of it all.

"You need to channel the raw charisma of a blonde man with serious daddy issues into your voice!"

For a moment, his mind wandered to someone—an erstwhile ally, one that thought of him as a brother, someone who truly cared for him despite the circumstances that had placed them on opposing sides. Someone he had used for convenience. Someone he had betrayed in the end to further his goals. The thought vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Eren said it again, this time louder and deeper than before, making the respective pose all the while. He must have looked and sounded utterly ridiculous, judging by the way he could hear Rias struggling to stifle her mirth.

Rias's laughter finally broke through, a bright, unrestrained sound that filled the quiet noon air. Eren couldn't help but be somewhat amused (though it didn't show on his face), the absurdity of the situation momentarily lifting the weight that always seemed to hang over him. For a few brief seconds, it was easy to forget everything else—his mission, his burden, his fate—and just be present in the moment, sharing a laugh with someone who had become an unexpected friend.

Rias let go of his arms (finally) and clapped her hands together. "Not bad, Eren! If we keep this up you'll be nihongo jouzu in no time at all. Sona will be impressed."

He could feel the aura of smugness radiating off of her at the thought of beating her long time rival at her own game.

Eren raised an eyebrow, only catching the gist of what she said. "N-Ni–Ni"

"Nihongo jouzu," Rias chuckled, a playful glint in her eyes. "It means you'll be fluent in Japanese. At least, enough to get by with some anime catchphrases."

Eren shook his head, finding her enthusiasm pleasing despite himself. "I'm not sure how useful that'll be."

"Maybe not," Rias admitted, "but it's fun, isn't it?"

Fun. It was such a simple word, yet it carried a weight Eren had almost forgotten. In a life dictated by duty, sacrifice, and the relentless pursuit of his goals, the concept of fun had slipped through the cracks. But here, with Rias, in this fleeting moment, he allowed himself to indulge in it. It stirred memories of better days, of racing to a tree on a hill with two others—names he wouldn't dare speak or think of, lest the pain resurface.

"Yes. Yes I guess it is."

"Exactly! Now let's continue with the story," Rias said as she flipped another page of her manga.

Their dynamic would go as follows: Rias would read in Japanese while Eren listened. Occasionally, she'd challenge him to translate passages into English, testing the knowledge he'd gained from his lessons with Sona. However, Rias often ended up translating most of it herself since Eren's lessons with Sona had only recently advanced beyond basic Japanese.

She had taken it upon herself to teach him the language through manga, a method that combined her love for otaku culture with his desire to learn something new—though he wasn't sure how much of it he was retaining. She would often pause to explain certain phrases or expressions, her voice animated with excitement as she described the scenes on the page.


"ORA! ORA! ORA! ORA! ORA!…."


"MUDA! MUDA! MUDA! MUDA!…."


Each syllable that left her lips was punctuated by Rias playfully tapping his good arm with her fist, mimicking the 'fight' unfolding in the story.

"Remember Eren, 'Ora' means 'come on!' while 'Muda' means 'useless'."

He recalled that little tidbit of information as he listened.

As Rias continued reading, her voice animated and full of enthusiasm, Eren found himself immersed in the story despite the oddity of it all. He allowed himself to be swept along by her passion, to let go of the relentless weight on his shoulders. Her excitement was infectious, and despite his initial reservations, he found himself intrigued by the strange picture she was painting.

Despite struggling to keep up, Eren managed to get a rough understanding of the story so far. JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Crusaders followed three men and a teenager (though Rias insisted he was the biggest 'man' of the group despite being only seventeen years old) on a journey to save Holy Joestar, said tennager's mother, by defeating Dio Brando, a returning antagonist from Part One.

"He survived by decapitating Jonathan and replacing his head with his own! Can you believe that!?!? It's f*cking insane!"

She had pointed out that the key difference between this part and the previous two was the introduction of Stands: manifestations of a person's soul. These Stands typically appeared as various humanoid figures, which Rias found challenging to describe to the blind boy due to their unique appearances. In essence, these Stands could interact with the physical world, but the reverse was not true. In short, Stands could interact with the physical world, but the reverse wasn't possible. To top it off, each Stand possessed a unique ability tied to its user.

"Think of them as superpowered ghosts."

Bizarre indeed.

"Why do they say it in English?"

"Huh?"

"These 'Stands'—they use English for the names but then switch right back to Japanese. Why?"

Rias didn't respond immediately. It seemed his question had caught her off guard. He could almost picture the gears turning in her head as she tried to come up with an answer.

"W-Well…"

Rias paused, a rare moment of hesitation crossing her usually confident demeanor. Now that she thought about it, she didn't have a solid answer. It was something she had always accepted without question, part of the charm that made the series what it was.

"Well," she began slowly, clearly thinking it through as she spoke, "I think it's just part of the style, you know? It's like… when characters in manga or anime say something in English, it adds a certain flair or emphasis to what they're saying. It makes it stand out more. Plus, English words can sound cool or exotic in Japanese media."

"So they just say it to sound… intimidating?" Eren asked.

Rias snapped her fingers. "Bingo! Kind of like how you….well, never mind."

"How I what?" he pressed.

How your dead voice sends chills down my spine, even though you're only a human who's a few years older than me, was what she wanted to say.

But instead, Rias shook her head. "Forget it! We were just getting to the good part before you interrupted," she said, her voice filled with eager anticipation.

She continued. Her story progressed where they left off before Eren interrupted. Dio drank the recently deceased Joseph's blood and could now stop time for nine seconds. Jotaro gets angry at him. They fight. Jotaro gets a road roller dropped on him. They fight and talk some more. Until finally, Jotaro catches Dio off guard and incapacitates him long enough for the sun to set, killing him in the process. He made it sound dull, but Rias's colorful narration painted a picture of a battle of life and death that'd have the reader at the edge of their seat.

The sun was almost below the horizon. They'd spent the entire afternoon lost in the fantastical world of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, with Rias enthusiastically guiding Eren through the narrative. The warm, golden light of the setting sun cast long shadows across the ground, bathing the park in a serene glow. The air had cooled considerably, the gentle breeze carrying the scent of leaves and earth, signaling the end of a peaceful day.

Rias closed the manga with a satisfied sigh, a wide smile still plastered on her face. "And that's the end of Part 3! There's an epilogue I'll read to you next time, but that pretty much wraps it up." she said, turning to face Eren.

"So they can just tell time to stop? Just like that?"

"For five seconds! Though after Dio consumes Joseph's blood, he extends it to nine, but Jotaro's limit is still five," Rias explained, her enthusiasm lingering even after the finale. "What would you do if you had The World as a stand?"

"I don't know. If I had the power to stop time, I think I would just leave."

There it was again—that weary, hollow tone that made him sound far older than his years. Eren usually kept it in check around Rias and her peerage, but when that voice did slip through, it never failed to unsettle her.

Rias's smile faltered slightly as Eren's words hung in the air. She didn't miss the shift in his tone, the sudden heaviness that seemed to weigh down the moment. It was like a shadow passing over the sun, brief but undeniable. The carefree mood they'd shared just moments ago, filled with laughter and animated storytelling, now felt distant.

She had grown accustomed to Eren's occasional detachment, the way he would sometimes withdraw into himself, even in the middle of a conversation. But every time it happened, it still caught her off guard. It was a reminder that beneath the calm exterior he presented, there was a deep well of sorrow and burden that he carried alone.

"...the fighting, I mean. I would just leave the fighting."

Rias hesitated, unsure of how to respond. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. She wanted to say something, anything, to bring back the lightness they had shared. But she knew that prying or pushing too hard wouldn't do any good.

Instead, Rias gently placed her hand on Eren's. "That's… understandable," she said softly. "I think a lot of people would feel the same way if they had the power to just… escape. To get away from all the fighting and the pain."

Eren didn't respond immediately. He sat there, still as a statue, absorbing the quiet comfort of her touch.

"But it's never really that simple is it? Sometimes you can't help but stand your ground, even when you know you shouldn't" he added after a moment, his voice firmer. "Sometimes all you can do is face it. Grit your teeth, dig your heels and push forward, no matter how hard it gets."

Rias squeezed his hand gently. She knew there was more to Eren than he let on, a hidden world of struggle and determination that he rarely shared with others. His words, though simple, carried a weight that resonated with her own experiences. As a devil, she understood the burdens of responsibility, the relentless pursuit of duty, and the sacrifices that came with it.

Not a day went by without the looming threat of her arranged marriage hanging over her like the Sword of Damocles, a constant reminder that her days of freedom were numbered.

She smiled softly, her grip on Eren's hand tightening just a fraction. "You're right," she said quietly, her voice steady. "It's not simple. But... moments like these, they make it a little easier, don't they?"

Eren nodded, though the gesture was small, almost imperceptible. He could feel the warmth of her hand in his, the simple connection grounding him in the present. Despite the swirling chaos of his life, despite the fate he knew awaited him, this moment was something he could hold onto.

They sat in silence for a while, the golden light of the setting sun bathing them in a gentle glow. The world around them seemed to slow, the worries of the past and future fading into the background. For now, they were just two people sharing a quiet moment on a bench, finding solace in each other's presence.

The last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon. Rias finally broke the silence. "I should head back," she said, her voice tinged with reluctance. "But... thank you, Eren. For today."

Eren turned his head slightly toward her, giving her an expressionless nod. "I should be the one thanking you for giving me the time of day Rias."

She laughed as she gave him a quick hug goodbye.

It was warm.

With that, she stood up, the spell of the moment slowly breaking as reality beckoned Eren back. But even as Rias walked away, the echoes of their conversation lingered, a quiet reminder that moments like these, fleeting as they were, could be cherished, held onto even when everything else seemed to fade away into a blur of duty.

He closed his eyes once more, letting the peace of the evening wash over him. The past and future were still there, seared into his memory, but for now, they were distant, muted. For now, he could simply be.

Inhale.

Exhale.

He was close. Just a little more, and he'd find his answer.

And so, he sat there, letting the world fade into the background, finding a rare and precious solace in the silence.

No future. No past. Just the chirping of crickets, the cool evening wind and the light breathing of a dying boy on the bench.

********

Omake: Another branch by Anonymous over on AO3​

"Kuroka, Shirone, it's time to wake up and come to breakfast." A firm yet monotone voice cut through the stillness of their room, accompanied by a gentle knocking on the door. "And Shirone, remember to brush your teeth before you come down." The voice added, carrying a tone of practiced patience.

The two nekoshou siblings, nestled together in their shared bed, slowly stirred from their slumber. Their eyes fluttered open, squinting against the piercing brightness of the morning sun that streamed through the window. The comforting aroma of breakfast began to waft into their room, coaxing them from their groggy state. With a collective yawn, Kuroka, the elder sister, was the first to move, her limbs heavy with sleep as she shuffled towards the bathroom. Shirone, the younger, followed suit, her movements still sluggish but eager.

Upon entering the kitchen, they were immediately enveloped by the irresistible scents of freshly made pancakes, crispy bacon, and warm, fragrant bread. The kitchen was a visual feast, with the breakfast table laid out with an impressive spread of their favorite morning treats. Behind this culinary display stood their caretaker, Eren Yeager. Despite his young age, he maintained an air of serene composure.

"Good morning, Eren," Kuroka mumbled, her voice still thick with the remnants of sleep. Her greeting was accompanied by a half-hearted stretch.

Eren Yeager looked up from where he was arranging a few last items on the table. His expression remained unchanged, revealing nothing but calm stoicism. "Good morning, Kuroka, Shirone. I trust you both slept well through the night?"

Shirone, her eyes still heavy but brightening at the sight of the breakfast spread, managed a shy smile. "Good morning, onii-chan."

Eren gestured towards the table with a casual wave of his hand. "I've prepared your favorites today. There are fluffy pancakes dripping with syrup, crispy bacon just the way you like it, and fresh, warm bread. Feel free to help yourselves, but do remember to leave some of the cookies for me." He indicated a plate stacked with tempting cookies, the aroma of which mingled with the other scents in the kitchen.

Without further ado, Kuroka and Shirone took their seats at the table, their previous grogginess quickly dissipating in the face of such a delectable breakfast. They dug in eagerly, savoring each bite of the Senjutsu-enhanced cuisine that seemed to elevate their morning routine to an extraordinary level.

---

As they enjoyed their meal, Eren, now sipping from a steaming cup of coffee, casually dropped a new piece of information into the conversation. "Oh, I should have mentioned this earlier, but in a few days, we'll be welcoming another resident into the house."

The announcement was met with a brief moment of confusion. Kuroka, with her fork halfway to her mouth, looked up with an expression of surprise and curiosity. Shirone, who was in the midst of slicing her pancakes, paused and glanced at Eren, her eyes wide with a mix of intrigue and concern.

Eren's face remained as impassive as ever, his gaze steady as he continued. "Yes, a new resident will be joining us shortly. I thought it prudent to inform you now so you're not caught off guard."

Kuroka furrowed her brow, her confusion evident. "A new guest? Who exactly are we expecting?"

Eren's response was succinct and direct. "Ophis."

"Oh, she is here already. That was fast." He remarked, looking at the entrance of the kitchen.

Kuroka's eyes widened, her fork momentarily forgotten. "Ophis? The Dragon God of Infinity? That's—wait, what?"

Eren seemed unperturbed by Kuroka's reaction. "Oh, it appears she's already here. That was rather quick."

---

"I, came for the cookies." At that moment, Ophis, the Dragon God of Infinity, manifested at the entrance of the kitchen. Her presence was both awe-inspiring and oddly serene, a striking contrast to her legendary status. Her gaze swept over the breakfast spread with a detached curiosity before settling on Eren.

Eren didn't even flinch at the appearance of the Dragon God of Infinity. Instead, he continued calmly sipping his coffee, his eyes flicking briefly to acknowledge her arrival. "Good morning, Ophis. I trust you found your way here without issue?"

Ophis gave a small nod, her attention already diverted to the array of breakfast foods laid out before her. "Yes. I'm here for the cookies. Where are they?"

Kuroka and Shirone exchanged bewildered glances, their earlier drowsiness now replaced by a mix of shock and apprehension. Kuroka managed to muster the courage to speak, her voice trembling slightly. "Eren, is this really...?"

Eren placed his cup down with deliberate care and rested his hands on the table. "Yes, Ophis has joined us for breakfast. I had anticipated her arrival would be tomorrow or later, but it seems she's arrived sooner than expected."

Shirone's voice quivered as she asked, "Is she... staying with us?"

Eren's tone remained detached as he responded, "Indefinitely. Ophis will be residing here for the foreseeable future."

Ophis, still by the entrance, seemed unaffected by the ongoing conversation. She walked over to the table, her gaze lingering on the breakfast spread as if she were inspecting an object of mild interest.

Kuroka, trying to wrap her mind around the sudden development, broke the silence. "Eren, why didn't you mention this sooner? I mean, having the Dragon God of Infinity here is... quite significant."

Eren's gaze met Kuroka's with the same impassive expression. "It was a recent development, and I deemed it unnecessary to alarm you until all details were confirmed. Besides, Ophis's presence should not disrupt your daily routine."

At that moment, Ophis, having located the cookies, began to indulge in them with remarkable enthusiasm. She picked up a plate and proceeded to devour the cookies, leaving a trail of crumbs around her and on the table. Her eyes briefly met Shirone's, and though her expression remained neutral, there was a fleeting hint of curiosity in her gaze. A tendril, composed of a substance reminiscent of bone, Eren's true ability, extended toward Ophis, wiping her face clean with a napkin and towel.

Ophis, engrossed in her cookie feast, did not even notice the tendril's efforts to tidy her up. The scene in the kitchen was nothing short of surreal—a juxtaposition of an ordinary breakfast against the backdrop of extraordinary company. Kuroka and Shirone continued to process the bizarre turn of events, their feelings a tumultuous mix of confusion and awe.

The scene in the kitchen was surreal, a striking contrast between ordinary breakfast and extraordinary company. Kuroka and Shirone continued to process the bizarre turn of events with a mix of confusion and awe.

Kuroka finally cleared her throat, striving to regain her composure amidst the chaos. "Eren, I still don't understand. Why does she need to stay here indefinitely? What's the purpose of her visit?"

Ophis, with her mouth full of cookies, managed to answer in between bites. "Great Red, is noisy. Gap, don't have a cookie."

Kuroka and Shirone exchanged incredulous looks, their mouths hanging open as they tried to reconcile Ophis's cryptic statement with the gravity of their new houseguest. The atmosphere in the kitchen was thick with tension and confusion, the weight of the unexpected visitor settling heavily upon them.

Kuroka, always the one to seek clarity, finally spoke up. "So... Great Red is causing noise, and that's why Ophis is here?"

Eren's response was simple and direct. "Yes."

---

The conversation was abruptly interrupted as Eren, carrying the used plates and glasses to the sink, casually added, "By the way, the current White Dragon Emperor will be arriving here tomorrow as another new resident."

Kuroka's eyes widened in disbelief, and she stared at Eren, her mouth forming the words, "Eren, what the fu—"

********

What-if Omake: Of Simpler Times by

Netra

over on Spacebattles​

Principal Sona Sitri sat prim in her white button-up blouse and pencil skirt, reviewing several documents neatly stacked on her desk.

A black fountain pen with a tasteful gold tip moved smoothly and accurately between her fingers, signing documents and initialing others.

She looked every bit the professional she was. Even if her looks were what any would call beautiful, she was very much a real woman with real responsibilities, and that included running her academy.

"Thank you, Tsubaki," Sona nodded to her queen and vice-principal as she placed a hot cup of tea on her mahogany desk.

She gave a short bow and stepped back, taking up position at the corner of her well furnished office.

The Sitri heiress let out a silent sigh as she sipped at the warm drink, the steam warming her face before it was swept away by the slight breeze from the open window. She looked outside to see the newly remade artificial sun dip below the horizon, the sky lit up by beautiful shades of oranges and reds.

Her phone buzzed as she received a message that she wasn't in the mood to read. Instead, she took a quick glance at the time.

Friday, June 7

5:50 PM

A few more minutes and she'd be off, but before that….
Sona allowed herself a brief moment to savor the peace. The warm tea, the gentle breeze, and the picturesque view of the artificial sunset all served as a welcome respite from the responsibilities that weighed heavily on her shoulders.
Even now, her mind was already calculating, planning the next steps she would need to take to ensure the smooth running of Atlas Academy.

Four Years.

Four Years since she stood on that center podium in the massive amphitheater and finally fulfilled her lifelong dream of opening her school.

She could still recall the thunderous applause that echoed through the amphitheater, the faces of countless beings—Angels, Devils, Fallen, Yokai, humans, and many others—looking up at her with a mixture of hope and curiosity. It had been a monumental moment, not just for her, but for all those who believed in the vision she had fought so hard to bring to life.

A place where knowledge transcended the boundaries of race, where history was taught not through the lens of victors or the defeated but with impartiality and a commitment to truth.

She had expected the complexities of managing such a diverse and powerful student body to be no easy task, as each race brought with it centuries of history, conflicts, and prejudices.

But….to her surprise, it turned out to be more manageable than she had initially feared. While the challenges were certainly there, they were often outweighed by the remarkable willingness of the students and faculty to adapt and learn from one another.

It wasn't that there were no conflicts—there were plenty, as could be expected when bringing together beings from realms that had often been at odds for millennia and had only recently seen peace. Yet, the environment Sona had painstakingly cultivated within the academy seemed to encourage a different approach to these old rivalries. Rather than allowing grudges and prejudices to fester, the academy's culture promoted dialogue and mutual understanding.

The curriculum, carefully designed to challenge preconceived notions and encourage critical thinking, had played a significant role in this.

Courses like "Comparative Mythology" and "Inter-realm Diplomacy" required students to step outside their comfort zones and consider perspectives vastly different from their own. History classes were transformative, offering unbiased accounts of events that many students had only ever heard through the biased narratives of their own cultures.

Sona had watched as Fallen and Devils, who once could barely sit in the same room without tension, began to engage in thoughtful discussions about the wars of their predecessors.

What had surprised her the most was the genuine friendships that had formed across racial lines. Students who might have been sworn enemies outside the academy walls found themselves working together on projects, sharing meals, and even forming study groups. It was a testament to the power of education and the environment Sona had created—one where knowledge and understanding were valued above all else.

Her peerage, too, had risen to the occasion, each member embracing their roles with a dedication that exceeded her expectations.

The faculty had proven to be more adaptable and open-minded than she had anticipated. Teachers from various realms had come together, sharing their unique expertise and learning from one another. This enriched the academic environment, making it a true melting pot of knowledge and cultures.

Sona knew that the success of Atlas Academy wasn't solely due to her efforts. It was the result of a collective commitment—students, faculty, and staff all working towards a common goal. The vision she had nurtured for so long had resonated with others, and they had made it their own.

Her dream, her school, was a resounding success.

And that terrified her.

Everything was going too well.

Her last assassination attempt had been... two years and six—no, seven months ago. It was by a member of one of the pillar families she had consigned to the grave in Agreas. House Paimon, she remembered—the last of his line, and the last to meet his end.

Though Sona knew it wasn't her place to question her sister's security detail, she still couldn't help but feel a little uneasy.

Call it a force of habit, but when everything seemed fine, it usually meant something was definitely not fine. Maybe they were disguised as students? Teachers? Maybe all the previous ones were just sent to test the waters, while the real assassin waits for the most opportune time to strike? Maybe….maybe….

"Kaichou?" her queen cleared her throat.

….maybe she needed a break. Again.

The 25-year-old Devil sighed.

"Please get on with it, Tsubaki."

Said vice-principal adjusted her glasses and opened the small notebook she always carried, expression calm and composed as ever.

"Academy operations continue to run smoothly," Tsubaki began, her voice steady and professional. "Attendance is at an all-time high, with enrollment numbers exceeding projections by 8% for the current semester. The new Cultural Anthropology of the Supernatural course is receiving positive feedback from both students and faculty. There have been no major incidents reported within the last week, and disciplinary actions are down by 12% compared to the previous month."

Good.

She paused briefly to let the information sink in before continuing. "Security protocols remain effective. We've had no breaches, and our monitoring systems show no signs of suspicious activity. Patrols have been increased in key areas, particularly around the dormitories and the central courtyard, in line with the upcoming end-of-year examinations. Additionally, the newly installed magical barriers have been tested and are functioning as expected. They are set to replace Lord Beelzebub's earlier prototype within the week."

Wonderful.

Tsubaki's gaze met Sona's as she continued, "The faculty has requested more resources for the expanded curriculum, specifically for the Human Integration into the Supernatural World (HISW) department. There's also a proposal from the student council to host an inter-realm debate next month, which they believe will further promote unity among the diverse student body."

Splendid.

She flipped to the next page of her notebook, her tone becoming slightly more somber. "On a less positive note, there have been minor tensions between certain student groups, particularly among the junior members of the Chinese and Japanese magician associations. Nothing alarming, but it may require a proactive approach to prevent escalation."

Ugh….she'd have to set them straight come tomorrow.

"Finally, young Millicas is currently at the top of his batch," Tsubaki continued, her tone reflecting a hint of pride. "He's demonstrated exceptional aptitude in his studies and is well-regarded among his peers. His scores for the midterm examinations across all subjects have not fallen below his consistent 98% average. If he maintains it, he'll have a 4.0 GPA by the end of the semester. "

"I'm sure Rias will be more than pleased with her nephew," Sona said, her tone softening as she thought of her best friend and rival.

Tsubaki closed the notebook and looked at Sona, her expression softening just a bit. "Overall, everything is under control, Kaichou. But as always, we remain vigilant."

Sona leaned back slightly in her chair, her fingers tracing the rim of her teacup as she absorbed the report.

"Thank you, Tsubaki," Sona said, her voice measured and calm, though a trace of that underlying anxiety seeped through. "As always, your thoroughness is appreciated."

Tsubaki inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment, the ever-efficient vice-principal already preparing to address whatever task Sona might assign next.

The Bell rang. Sona eyed her phone.

6:30 PM

Night classes should be starting soon.

Her eyes met her Queen's with a nod as an unspoken message was communicated between them.

"I'll leave everything to you."

She rose from her seat, put on her tailored blazer and approached the teleportation circle leading to her destination. The circle glowed faintly as she stepped into it, the familiar hum of magical energy resonating in the air.

With a final glance at Tsubaki, who stood ready to oversee the academy in her absence, Sona activated the teleportation spell.

In an instant, the world around her shifted, the office fading away as she was enveloped in a soft blue light.

********

After waiting a few seconds for good measure, the vice-president gave the secret listeners the green light.

"She's in."

********

The scent of saltwater and the sound of waves greeted her senses.

Her work flats sank slightly into the warm white sand.
She took a moment to steady herself, the gentle breeze tugging at the hem of her top and playing with the strands of her dark hair.

The ground was bathed in the soft glow of twilight, the sky above her painted in hues of deep blue and orange. The sun had just set, leaving behind a trail of colors that reflected off the calm ocean that stretched endlessly before her.

Ahead, nestled amidst the greenery and facing the pristine beach, was a 'small home'. It stood tall and elegant, its windows illuminated from within, casting a warm, inviting light that beckoned her inside.

She walked slowly, the familiar path guiding her steps. The sand beneath her feet transitioned to the smooth stone of the pathway, and the soothing sounds of the ocean dimmed as she approached the entrance.

The wooden door creaked open as a relieved Sona Sitri finally entered.

"I'm home!"

Silence.

Was she too early?

Aunty or Kuroka should've already been here by now.

A faint smile tugged at her lips as she placed her footwear beside a nearby chair and shrugged off her blazer, draping it over the back.

She stepped further inside, her feet thudding lightly against the polished wooden floor.

The cozy interior was a stark contrast to the grand, imposing halls of Atlas Academy. Here, everything felt intimate, personal. With walls adorned with framed photographs that captured moments of joy and serenity.

Her eyes swept across her home, noting the dining table elegantly set for two, with a crisp white tablecloth draped over it. She noticed the faint hum of the oven coming from the kitchen.

Her eyebrow twitched. So they wanted to play it like this then? Which room was it this time? The bedroom? The study? bathroom? Or was it the attic? Didn't matter. Once she'd find them she would—

Sona yelped as arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her into an embrace.

The suddenness of it caught her off guard, but before she could even think of resisting, she felt familiar lips press against her own.

Her heart leaped in her chest, and the rest of the world fell away.

Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, pulling him close as she eagerly returned the kiss.

When the need for air became too great, they broke apart, gasping for breath as their eyes locked on each other.

Violet orbs gazed into green.

Her face flushed as he smiled.

Eren Yeager, smiled.

"Happy Birthday Sona."

The woman sighed as she rested her head against his shoulder.

Her worries were a distant memory.

"Mhhhhmm."

"What was that?"

"I said I missed you," she mumbled.

Eren chuckled, his voice a low, pleasant rumble.

It took her the good part of four years to get used to this side of the once dour and taciturn boy.

"So how was work today?"

"Fine," the woman murmured, breathing in his scent.

"Just fine?"

"Mhmmm."

"Hmmm, that's it?"

"It's fine, Eren."

"If you say so."

He gently rubbed her back, the sensation sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

They stayed like that for a while, content to simply be in each other's presence, cuddling on the plush velvet sofa all the while. Her glasses sat forgotten on a nearby coffee table.

"You smell good," she breathed.

"I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I really don't."

"Yes, you do."

"Okay maybe I kind of do."

"You do."

"Alright, fine."

Sona chuckled, her fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. She felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear, its sound was always soothing, reassuring to her.

There was a time when she believed that making small talk with Eren was nothing more than a distant fantasy. His circumstances had made it clear that he couldn't, wouldn't ever be able to smile and laugh like this.

It took her some time to adjust to the fact that he no longer spoke in that lifeless, hollow tone he used to have before being reincarnated.

RIIIIING

"That's the oven," her husband said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before sitting up and heading to the kitchen. He smiled, "You should go take a bath and get changed, everything will be ready when you're done."

Sona wanted to argue and help him set the table, but she just wasn't up to it today. Besides, there was something comforting about relying on him that she didn't want to let go of.

After taking a quick shower and getting changed, Sona descended from the master bedroom, her hair still damp.

In front of her was a table for two, lit by the gentle glow of the house's dim lighting. The rich aroma of food wafted through the air, and her stomach rumbled in anticipation.

Sona wiped her damp hair as she watched Eren work. Even after all this time, she was still stunned by how different he looked. Gone was the physique of a nursing patient. Instead, a toned body and broad shoulders greeted her. He was lean, but not overly muscular, the kind that would draw the attention of anyone who saw him.

She felt a blush rise to her cheeks as her thoughts went back to the present. The heiress took a good look at the array of food displayed before her.

"Pizza Margherita, Korean Fried Chicken, and French Fries?"

"There's a salad too."

Sona playfully rolled her eyes before taking a seat.

Her husband served the pizza first, placing a slice on her plate before getting his own. He then poured them each a glass of lemon iced tea, the rich, brown liquid flowing smoothly from the bottle.

They ate in comfortable silence, the only sound being the clinking of silverware against china.

Sona was no stranger to luxury, but even she had to admit that Eren had a way of making even the simplest meals seem special.

The pizza was nothing short of divine. The Italian dish, though simple in nature, was elevated to a level that even the finest chefs would envy. The crust was perfectly thin and crispy, with just the right balance of chewiness. Each bite exploded in her mouth with tomatoes that were bursting with flavor, paired with the creamy melted mozzarella.

The Fried chicken was crisp on the outside with a glaze that shimmered like liquid gold. The first bite was an explosion of flavor—crunchy, sweet, and spicy. The chicken was impossibly tender, each piece seemingly infused with the perfect balance of seasoning. The skin crackled with each bite while the meat remained succulent and juicy, practically melting in the mouth.

Paired with the kimchi fried rice, the combination was a match made in culinary heaven. The tangy, slightly fermented flavor of the rice complimented the chicken perfectly. Crispy chicken skin crackling between her teeth, followed by the soft, piping hot rice.

Even the fries were unexpectedly delicious. Crisp on the outside, fluffy on the inside, and seasoned with just the right amount of salt, they tasted as if each potato had been individually coaxed into reaching its fullest potential.

Oh, and the salad was great too.

Sona swallowed another bite of pizza and sighed in contentment.

Senjutsu really was wonderful.

"Verdict?"

She wiped her mouth with a napkin, "Delicious."

Eren smiled, his green eyes shining with pride, and rightfully so. Three years of working as the sous chef for Kiba's cafe/restaurant was paying back in dividends.

Sharpening his culinary skills took a lot of trial and error in the kitchen, with Rias and Kiba helping him unlearn some of the outdated techniques from his time with the Scouts, while simultaneously introducing him to new methods.

Knowing him, Sona wasn't surprised to see that he'd gotten this far with a mere three years of training. Eren was a surprisingly quick learner, when he'd put his mind to it.

Of course, his ability to grow perfect ingredients didn't hurt either.

As Eren began to clear the plates, Sona finished off the last few bites of her pizza, washing it down with a gulp of iced tea. This is the life... she mused contentedly as she sat back, her stomach full.

She slumped onto the couch, lazily flicking on their 65-inch OLED TV. Any sense of satisfaction she felt vanished the moment the screen lit up.

The TV flickered to life, and the image of a grim-faced news anchor filled the screen. His voice, steady but laced with tension, echoed through the room.

"—radical extremist group that has been linked to a series of coordinated attacks across multiple realms, with authorities confirming at least twenty-two fatalities and over a hundred injured. The group, which claims to deify the boy of the Unified Dream, Eren Yea—"

She switched it off.

Sona gripped the remote tightly, her knuckles turning white. Eren, who had just finished stacking the dishes, paused mid-step, his expression hardening as he glanced at the screen.

For a split second, Sona thought she saw a glimmer of nihilism return to his eyes.

"Maybe I should pay them a visit one of these days."

"Eren…."

"I'm kidding. I know your sister and the others can handle it," he said, giving her a quick peck on the forehead before settling down beside her.

Sona shifted closer, resting her head on his shoulder, the weight of the day finally melting away in his presence. For a moment, neither of them spoke, letting the silence between them stretch out like a comforting blanket.

"I hate it," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "It feels like no matter how much progress we make, there's always someone trying to drag us back."

Eren's arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer. "It's how the world works, Sona. Some people just can't help but fight."

She sighed, knowing he was right, but it didn't make it any easier. The academy, her dream, was meant to be a place of unity, but even now, there were forces determined to break that fragile peace.

"Enough of the dreary stuff," her husband said, his voice lightening as he gently nudged her. "What movie do you wanna watch?"

Sona smiled mischievously.

There was a reason she never asked him where Mikasa and Kuroka were at this time. In this polygamous relationship of theirs, it was an unspoken understanding that Sona was considered the least assertive of the three women.

"Well…."

She ought to fix that.

"Well….what?" her husband raised an eyebrow, no doubt knowing where this was leading to.

"....I actually had something else in mind," she couldn't help herself from blushing despite her best efforts to appear as confident as either of the two aforementioned women.

Sona followed his gaze as he broke eye contact and stared at a nearby clock.

9:34 PM

"Bit early isn't it?"

"If you're not in the mood, we can always just—Eep!"

Sona couldn't contain her giggles as Eren lifted her off the couch and started planting kisses on her neck. She instinctively held on to his shoulders for support, her laughter bubbling up.

Whatever she was about to say next was silenced by a kiss that continued as they ascended the stairs and entered the master bedroom.

********

Back in the Underworld, within the Sitri manor, the current Leviathan bumped fists with her Bishop, the latter's seven tails swished happily as she nursed an infant with a bottle of milk.

The pawn, however, seemed content to simply observe the scrying spell, a satisfied expression and a visible smile on her face.

********

AN by Netra:

Thought I'd write this since I'm stuck on a really looooong plane ride so I thought ah screw it why not, and pulled out the pc and started typing since the idea just wouldn't leave my head.

This omake is set four years after the epilogue, where (in my headcanon) Eren has settled down with Mikasa, Kuroka, and Sona in a mansion on Rias's private island, after the Gremory gladly gave it to them. After being reincarnated, he got a job at Isaiah's bakery where he honed his culinary skills with the help of Rias and Kiba.

Present day, everyone knows who Eren is: Human, Devil, Angel, Fallen, Yokai, God, etc. The human's especially, venerate him for revealing the existence of the supernatural, which makes sense. I mean imagine it, you're doing your thing and suddenly your consciousness gets pulled into another dimension where some guy tells you the likes of God, Satan, Zeus, Odin, and every possible pantheon of gods actually exist and aren't just stories. Yeah I'd prolly be singing his praises too. Man leaked the entire group chat.

So…..Eren as a husband. I am of the opinion that Eren without his burdens would be unrecognizable. He's been defined by them for so long that without them, I could only picture him as a himbo. Eren, at his core, is an overly-emotional person. When he hates, he hates with every fiber of his being. When he cries, he cries like a baby. When he loves….well the closest we have is the cabin scene from the show, but even there he's just acting and playing house. So I kinda bounced a couple ideas here and there to see what'd work, and this is the conclusion I reached. Love it or hate it, it's how I picture a retired Eren to be.

Anyway that's about it. See ya and thank you to ReadingDangerously for writing this wonderful story.
********

I would like to thank every single person who took the time and effort to make these wonderful Omakes and hope any readers will as well.

Now, what was my surprise?

I have created my own Omake as thanks... or at least I intended to. In classic ReadingDangerously fashion, it grew to be over 10k words and still isn't finished. I wanted to get it out today, but since I only started on Nov 1st, it won't be ready until Friday... and I might split it into two parts.

It's no secret it's been quiet around here, and it's because I decided to take a bit of time off from writing to relax. I disconnected from almost everything on the internet and just took the time to catch up on a few hobbies I've let go of in the last few years since I started writing.

Naturally, this made me want to write something.

After my omake for On The Bench is done this weekend, I will be working full time on an original story, interspersed with Omakes for Rapturous Rhapsody and a (long) one-shot fanfiction I have planned. The original story will start to be released when the first volume is roughly done to give me some breathing room, but once that happens, I will begin releasing it weekly on Fridays.
Essentially, after this weekend OTB will officially receive no more postings, and I will move on to my next work.

I hope you enjoyed these wonderful omakes by some talented writers and I will see you all on Friday.

 

[Kalstorm22]

Fun stuff, thanks for sharing these great works with us and thanks to the writers for making these very enjoyable Omakes.

 

[ReadingDangerously]

"Welcome!

It was a shock to all of them.

To the Danger Room!

The room was cavernous, and none recognized its equivalent or how they got there.

You have been gathered here to receive the most dangerous gift in existence.

Divided into four parts, the middle of the room was divided in half while the north and south parts bordered them horizontally.

Knowledge!

In the top area, on an elevated stage and bounded by a wooden railing from the rest of the room, there was nothing but a short podium, a book atop it, a figure clad in shadows...

...And a bean bag chair on which they sat.

In this room, only three actions are allowed. To read, to talk, and to think.

They were tall but not too tall, with indistinct features that could be male or female as the lights, emanating from no source, seemed to flicker around them, making any feature of theirs indistinct. This wasn't helped by the fact that their face was shrouded in shadows of hood...

...Or the fact that the shadowed face seemed to be wearing large plastic glasses with a plastic nose and fake moustache attached.

Laugh and weep. Avail yourselves of the comforts provided, knowing it is but an illusion and all that will remain when you leave will be Knowledge.

They reclined in their comfy chair, the tiny dias right in front of them holding the simple book slightly below their head height as they spoke to their captive audience.

Yet will that precious, dangerous gift remain when the tale is done? Or will you choose the sweet relief of ignorance?

Below the stage, where the room was split in half, twenty-eight... 'people' sat in chairs of various sizes and models.

Mayhap nothing will come of this meeting of two worlds. Perhaps all that passes in this room of pain, sorrow, and 'what ifs' shall vanish with the morning's light, as effervescent as dew and as fragile as a bubble.

On the left, fourteen individuals, all dressed in similar tight uniforms of brown, grey, and green, sat captive and unmoving. Eleven of them were teenagers, roughly fifteen years of age, while three were older yet still far from what one would consider middle-aged. All bore signs of training and discipline.

Or, a sliver of possibility might be born in this tale of woe. That this Knowledge, so painfully gained and held in trembling hands, might lead to a new path. One that winds its way along that infinitesimal hope born where the sky meets the Earth in the glow of a horizon's edge.

Opposite them, on the right, was an eclectic mess of people. Most were similarly young, or at least seemed so, but their appearances varied wildly. Brightly coloured hair and luxurious clothes, almost all of them were beautiful in a way that spoke of privilege, healthy living, and the lack of struggle. Yet keen eyes would catch the dense muscles hidden under the mask of beauty... for a few of them, at least.

Two worlds, so different yet so similar.

These twenty-eight people, all eyes captured and unmoving on the figure on the stage, were as still as statues, seeming to not even breathe.

Twenty-eight people drowning in lies and pain, unknowing of the beasts that lay beyond your narrow walls, waiting to swallow you whole.

They couldn't look behind them to see the bottom part of the room, frozen as they were. They couldn't see the tables laden with food and drink of all sorts.

I am the Dangerous Reader. Call me what you wish. I am but a dream of a dream of dream of two dreams.

Nor could they see the doors on the back wall as the sole point of ingress and egress from this enormous chamber. A pair of towering pieces of metal and hardwood, they loomed from floor to ceiling. Each seemed to carry an air of ominous finality as if declaring that stepping beyond them was an irreversible decision.

At this moment, where time has no meaning and the past and future are so uncertain, I shall read you a story. It is not a good story. It is not a happy story. It is but the ramblings of a hapless storyteller trying to convey their thoughts, their understanding of the worlds you yet dwell in. It is not a truth they tell, but a possibility of a possibility.

To those few prisoners of their own bodies, this situation might as well be a nightmare. Their last memories being of going to bed, sleep claiming them, and then appearing here in this room of Danger and incomprehension.

Yet, in their pathetic flailings, there is Knowledge to be gained for those desperate enough to read, those accepting enough to talk, and those wise enough to think.

The figure on the stage, this 'Dangerous Reader,' was a figure of apprehension, no matter their silly appearance. For even if this was a dream, the unknown of a nightmare is no less terrifying than the unknown which lurks beyond the horizon.

Now, my dear readers, we shall begin shortly. I see the confusion and fear in your eyes. Good. To learn, you must face both. But to ensure the smooth flow, I shall provide a foundation on which you may build.

So they sat and listened, for they had no choice.

The rules are as follows: Once I begin reading, I shall only continue when all else is silent and only speak the words on the page. You may interrupt without consequence, but the story shall not continue until everyone is ready to listen. You may leave our room of dangerous Knowledge at any point, but if you do, this shall be a forgotten dream. You will continue your life with the blissful ignorance you chose. Finally, only Knowledge can affect this world in which we temporarily dwell. Violence, no matter its power, shall have no consequence.

All while plotting their first moves when they got the chance.

You have each been chosen because of the roles you played, play, or will play in this story. Know that if you are here, it is for a reason, even if you yet remain ignorant of it. This story may tell you of a future and a past, yet it is not yours yet.

All while asking questions in their minds.

Your Paths remains undecided should you choose to face the pain it takes to walk beyond the known and into the uncertainty of possibility.

All while looking at the book on the dias.

Yet only by reading, talking, and thinking will that hope of a better future remain.

All while their hearts beat fiercely in their chests.

Our preface and introduction is done. We shall begin our tale momentarily. Before we do, I shall allow three questions from each world. They shall be answered on a first-come, first-served basis. Fear no reprisals. Simply ask those questions which burn your tongue, for once I begin reading, the only words which leave my mouth will be those written on the page and, should the story not answer them, you shall forever go ignorant.

Waiting for freedom.

Let us begin."

In a moment shorter than an eye blink, the situation changed.

Before anyone could really comprehend their freedom as whatever power held them trapped released them, some...one had already taken action.

"Disappear."

The voice was monotone, coming from the tiniest of beings in this room, yet the fear of those on the right side of the room did not even have time to manifest at its sound.

Power.

A purplish blackness tide of power poured from this little girl in an overwhelming tide that blotted out all sight and sound in a tide of destruction that sought to end everything.

There was no pain, no sorrow, no fear.

For all were helpless in front of the Infinite.

... Or such should be the case.

The tide of power, as quick as it had come... disappeared.

In a few moments, in the time between the beats of a heart, a tide of Infinite power rolled over all of them and then vanished without any effect.

Naturally, everyone freaked the fuck out.

The older people on the right side of the room were the quickest to respond, who quickly moved to surround the small girl.

They didn't take any action to fight her; they merely put themselves between her and the rest of the room.

As if fighting her wasn't even possible.

Those on the left side of the room, moving slower than most on the right, had also reacted. They had spread out, each taking defensive stances of various forms, though most had drawn pairs of long, flat blades.

Three of the teenagers, however, had a bit of an odd reaction; not that many noticed the way the blonde flicked a spike up on her ring, how the tall one had brought a fingertip close to his mouth, or how the stocky blond seemed to wrap his hand around his blade.

Next to act were the younger members from the right side. They drew back, pressing themselves against the wall to put as much distance between themselves and the tiny girl.

One, a slightly older young woman with dark hair and... cat ears? And a tail? Did so by placing herself in front of a much shorter girl with white hair, making the younger girl flinch back in fear.

The absolute last person to react was a teenage boy in a school uniform on the right side of the room, who let out a scream of fright and fell out of his chair in shock.

There was a tense heartbeat of silence for a moment, the small girl continuing to stare at the figure in the bean bag chair who hadn't even twitched throughout it all.

"Why?" She asked in the same monotone, breaking the silence.

The figure, the Reader, finally moved.

"This is your side's first answer: I took your power because you used it to disrupt the others in the room. Whether the Infinite or the Dream, both are but characters to a Reader. So long as you are in the Danger Room, that is all we are. Characters. When you leave, either stepping through those doors or when the story is done, all will be as it was before you entered here."

The small girl did not move or do anything, simply standing in place and staring at the indistinct figure on the stage for a long second.

Then...

"Help me beat up Great Red."

The Reader did not so much as flinch.

Nor did he answer.

"Ophis," the red-headed man who stood before the girl with the other adults said, a charming smile on his face as he stepped forward. "Why don't you let us deal with this? We'll... try and get you some help after we get the answers."

The way his smile seemed to twitch and the tenseness in his body, as he made sure to keep both the small girl and the figure on the stage in his sight at all times, detracted a bit from the charisma of his usual smile.

The little girl, Ophis, spared the redhead the barest of impassive glances.

Then she turned to face a teenage boy half protected by a man with blond and black hair.

"Albion. Help me beat up Great Red."

The grey-haired boy let out a grin.

"Sure."

"Vali!" The man before him said sharply, then addressed the little girl again. "He'll only help if you don't attack anyone here again."

Ophis wasn't listening, already having turned toward a new direction, facing the most unlikely of people.

The poor student who had fallen out of his chair had scrambled to his feet and was staring around the room with eyes wide with fear and apprehension.

"Draig. Help me beat up Great Red."

The boy didn't notice the way eyes shifted to him from those on his side of the room.

His eyes had fallen on a pair tits and stayed there.

The woman in the pink magical girl outfit didn't seem to mind, if she noticed at all, with her focus on Ophis.

In fact, it took the boy a moment to even realize he was being addressed at all.

"Huh," he uttered a noise of confusion as his eyes snapped from the Glorious Oppai to look at the loli who had terrified him. Seeing her blank eyes staring at him, he stumbled away in fright. "Wa? Um. I, um, think you have the wrong guy? Ma'am? Miss? Um... My name is Hyoudou Issei not... Duraigu?"

The grey-haired boy, Vali, suddenly looked increadibly disappointed.

"Ddraig. Wake up."

It seemed the Reader had not taken all the girl's powers, as her voice seemed to have some sort of magical effect.

No sooner had she spoken than a sizeable red gauntlet appeared on Issei's hand, causing the boy to let out another squeak of fright, and he began frantically trying to take the crimson armour off.

[Ophis? Lucifer? What's is happening?] A deep voice rang out from the green gem that pulsed on the back of the red hand.

Then it paused for a second, ignoring the boy trying to yank it free, muttering something about his 'useful hand,' its following words came out in a low, hateful growl.

[Albion.]

[Ddraig.] This voice rang from a pair of white wings that had appeared on Vali's back. While it was also filled with anger, there was also a note of schadenfreude in it. [This is your newest host? How... amusing. Vali is the greatest possible host, and yours is... not. I will be claiming victory this generation. And every generation after it.]

There was an inarticulate growl from the gauntlet, but before it could respond, there was a call out from the left side of the room.

"I have our first question."

The uniformed soldiers had not been idle as this drama unfolded near them. They had grouped up, whispering between each other in the distraction provided to both introduce themselves and establish a basic plan.

The oldest man, the one in command, had stepped forward to speak. The other two adults were beside him but slightly behind, while the younger recruits stood at attention behind his back.

It was as if they were trying to present a united front in contrast to the mess on the right.

"Who, exactly, are those on that side of the room?"

The Reader looked at the commander and answered simply and concisely.

"Ophis, the Dragon of the Infinite." They pointed to the little girl who had tried to kill them all.

"Sirzechs Lucifer, Satan in charge of Internal Affairs." They pointed toward the red-haired man.

"Michael the Seraph, Leader of Heaven." The blond-haired man in an armoured robe.

"Azazel the Fallen, Governor General of the Grigori." The man standing in front of Vali with the dual-toned hair.

"Serafall Leviathan, Satan in charge of Foreign Affairs." The twin-tailed woman in the pink magical girl outfit.

"Vali Lucifer, the White Dragon Emperor." The grey-haired boy with the white wings crossed his arms over his chest and gave the room a smirk.

"Cao Cao, wielder of the True Longinus." This time, the Reader pointed toward a tall young man who had stepped away from the rest of the group to observe everything carefully.

"Black Cat Kuroka, SS-Class Stray Devil." It was the dark-haired woman in a loose kimono with cat ears and tails.

The white-haired girl seemed to shrink further away from her.

"Rias Gremory, heiress to the Gremory Pillar family." The buxom redhead had stepped between Kuroka and the white-haired girl and glared at the criminal.

Ignoring the by-play, the Reader continued.

"Akeno Himejima, Queen of the Gremory Peerage." A dark-haired woman, possibly even more buxom, stood beside Rias and held her hand on the white-haired girl's shoulder in comfort.

"Sona Sitri, heiress to the Sitri Pillar family." Another dark-haired girl, though noticeably less... endowed than the others, stared back at the Reader through her glasses.

"Yuuto Kiba, Knight of the Gremory Peerage." A blond boy who was flanking the white-haired girl, a sword in his hand.

"Koneko Toujou, Rook of the Gremory Peerage." The small white-haired girl is surrounded by her fellow Peerage members.

"Nyaa~" Kuroka singsonged in denial, but her body was tense as she interrupted. "That's not her name. She's Shirone."

The Reader did not miss a beat, not even giving Rias time to get her own interruption out.

"As she is now, she is Koneko Toujou."

No further explanation or elaboration was given, nor was the tension addressed; the blurry figure continued to the last member.

"Finally, Issei Hyoudou, the Red Dragon Emperor." The boy, who had ceased trying to pull off the gauntlet, was now staring around his side of the room, eyes growing increasingly wide with every name called.

He even started inching toward the left half as if trying to avoid being associated with those around him.

Whether the commander from the left side got what they wanted from such succinct descriptions or not was hard to tell as he studiously kept his face as blank as possible. Still, it was clear he had gotten something.

Even if most of the terms and titles meant nothing, a few keywords were familiar enough to tell him how alien these people were, even ignoring their foreign-sounding names.

Words like dragon, heaven, devil, and emperor were familiar even within the safety of the Walls, even if others like 'Satan,' 'Rook,' 'Longinus,' or 'Grigori' were not.

More than the names, the reaction of those on the right gave the most information.

Many names had evoked specific reactions, and by evaluating who reacted to what, the commander got a much better grasp on the dynamics and importance of those involved than he did from just their names.

Those on the right were also not ignorant of their lost advantage, and many were not fools.

"Now I'm curious," Azazel said with a loose smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Same question. Who, exactly, are those on that side of the room?"

The same words, the same cadence, for the same question.

And the Reader answered with the same perfunctory and concise answers.

"Eren Yeager, graduate from the 109th Training Corps." The Reader pointed to a teenage boy standing at attention with the rest with dark hair and grey eyes.

"Mikasa Ackerman, graduate from the 109th Training Corps." The Reader pointed to the dark-haired girl with the red scarf beside him, who had made a slight movement to stand between Eren and the finger pointed their way.

"Armin Artlet, graduate from the 109th Training Corps." A slightly shorter blond boy stood beside the pair, nerves barely concealed at the situation by his rigid stance.

"Historia Reiss, graduate from the 109th Training Corps." When the Reader pointed to a blonde girl amongst the younger recruits, there was the first real sign of surprise from the left side. Even the girl's eyes widened, and the commander shot her an unreadable look.

"Levi Ackerman, Humanity's Strongest Soldier." A few more looks of surprise shot toward the short, dark-haired man standing beside the commander.

Those who were more observant noticed it was only when Levi's last name was mentioned, unlike Historia's, where it began immediately. They also noticed the word choice of the title and how nobody seemed surprised at it.

"Bertolt Hoover, Warrior." There wasn't really surprise this time as the Reader pointed toward a tall teen with freckles, just confusion...

...Except from the boy himself, who paled dramatically as the others looked at him, and the two other teens who stood beside him who grimaced and tensed.

The Reader continued without caring.

"Annie Leonhart, Warrior." The short blonde teen beside Bertolt subtly fingered her ring as she tried to keep her face blank.

"Reiner Braun, Warrior and graduate from the 109th Training Corps." The third of the trio looked confused for a moment but also seemed to sag slightly as a few of the suspicious looks faded.

Not all of them, though.

"Ymir, graduate from the 109th Training Corps." The tall young woman beside Historia hadn't ceased looking at the 'warriors' even as she was pointed out.

"Erwin Smith, Commander of the Survey Corps." Finally, the Reader pointed toward the blond man who took the lead. If he was bothered by coming so late in the introductions, he didn't show it, but his eyes never ceased roaming everyone in the chamber.

On both sides.

"Hange Zoe, Squad Leader of the Survey Corps." The Reader pointed toward the only other adult on the left side of the room, the androgynous figure in glasses beside Erwin.

"Jean Kirstein, graduate from the 109th Training Corps." Another teen, this one with short blond hair, stood near the middle of the group just behind Mikasa.

"Connie Springer, graduate from the 109th Training Corps." A short teen with a plain face stood beside Jean and gave the Reader a nervous smile as he was pointed at.

"Finally, Sasha Blouse, graduate from the 109th Training Corps." The girl he pointed at barely paid attention to the Reader's introductions.

Her entire attention was focused on the veritable banquet laid out behind them and the delicious smells wafting from it.

There was a brief moment of silence as the introductions finished.

Then Michael stepped toward the group on the left, his face set in a gentle, welcoming smile.

"While I understand your general suspicion and distrust, we are just as lost and confused as you. As you can no doubt tell, we are not all aligned on our side, yet there is precedent in our world for setting aside even the most hateful of grievances in the face of overwhelming enemies, and I do not believe we have any of such problems." Michael shot a slight look of disapproval at Azazel. "We do not need to be enemies."

"What do you have in mind," Erwin said simply, face set in a blank mask.

"Just a general sharing of information and an effort to not hinder the other parties. I know trust is slow to grow, but if even Ophis can't hurt those here, then we can at least be relatively certain of our safety."

"What is she?" Hange butted in, eyes wide as they looked at the small girl who was poking Issei's gauntlet repeatedly as he tried to fend her away. "A dragon? What did she try to do?"

"Ophis is..." Michael's smile was wooden as he hesitated. "Ophis is probably the second strongest being in our world. One of the Divine Dragons, Ophis and Great Red, are more... concepts than people. In particular, Ophis is the Infinite Void made manifest and holds unlimited power. Do not let their appearance fool you. They can look however they want. The most recent sighting of Ophis a few decades ago had them appearing as an old man. They are older than our planet."

Ophis poked Issei in the glove again.

"I see."

No, Erwin did not see or understand very much. It wasn't that he was dumb, the opposite in fact, but he just had no frame of reference for the absurdity that was the Ouroboros Dragon.

"Tell you what," Azazel said, sauntering over with a sly smile with Vali behind him. Michael stepped away slightly. "I figured I stepped on a few toes, so let me make it up to you."

"How so?"

"The introduction order," Azazel said bluntly, looking to the silent Reader. "You might not have caught on to this, but our host introduced us in order of power... or danger, depending on how you look at it. Specifically, how dangerous we are now."

"...Why do you say that?" Hange asked with narrowed eyes.

"You see that boy," Azazel grinned as he pointed toward where Ophis was now holding the crimson gauntlet in her hands. Her small size meant Issei had to bend over more than ninety degrees, and he looked like he was in pain. "A Red Dragon Emperor has the possibility to be anywhere in our little rankings after Ophis, but because he has no idea what's going on, he's the current weakest."

"A waste," Vali muttered under his breath in disappointment.

"You all are human, right?" Azazel continued as if he hadn't heard his charge's words. "

"You're not?" Levi asked bluntly.

"Me and the Red Dragon Emperor are the only humans on this side," Cao Cao interrupted, eying the midget up and down with appraisal. "Everyone else here is a monster who preys on humanity."

He'd remained back, seeing the forces arrayed in the room, but there was no way he could miss this chance now that he had some guarantee of safety. Especially if humanity's supposed 'Strongest Soldier' was at risk of being swayed due to ignorance of the actual situation.

With any luck, this group gathered could join his budding Hero Faction.

At Cao Cao's words, the entire left side of the room tensed, their bodies preparing for a fight once more, and the slight relaxation faded as they looked at the other side with renewed wariness.

Erwing didn't draw his blades like Levi, but his mouth turned down in a grim frown.

"While I am sorry you feel that way," Michael said to Cao Cao, not reacting to the blades drawn at his face. "I do believe you are operating with false information. Heaven has always acted with humanity's best interest at heart."

There was a noise from the younger members behind the group on the right, and Michael turned to look.

The blond boy, Yuuto, was scowling at him.

Sirzechs, who had been with Serafall talking to the group of young devils and making sure they were all right, stepped forward to explain.

"You'll have to forgive Yuuto. He was formally human," the devil told the room. "My sister reincarnated him after he escaped from the Holy Sword Project."

Michael visibly wilted, and it seemed like the light in the chamber dimmed slightly with his sadness.

"You have my deepest apologies," the Seraph said as he bowed to the Knight. "What happened to you was a tragedy that should never have happened. As soon as we in heaven learned of it, the Project was shut down, and the culprits were branded heretics and punished. I know this will not make up for your pain and loss, but know that we have taken steps to ensure something like it never happens again."

Yuuto didn't seem mollified. In fact, he just looked angrier, but Rias tugged him backward, whispering soothingly into his ear.

This really wasn't a place where she wanted her Peerage to be involved. Even with her brother and Serafal here, they were all in incredible danger.

"Reincarnate?" Hange asked, that part standing out the most to them.

"You can bring people back from the dead?" One of the graduates interrupted, breaking formation to step forward.

Eren Yeager looked a cross between desperate and hopeful as his comrades tried to pull him back.

"They kill humans and turn them into devils," Cao Cao said simply. "Slaves to do their new master's bidding."

"Man," Serafall deadpanned at the reincarnated hero as the Eren stepped back again, face set in a glare. "You are so uncute. And obviously biased. Are you a season 1 villain with a cool name that gets defeated in the first act because you job too hard and underestimate everyone?"

"Sister!" Sona hissed under her breath.

"What?" Serafall said innocently, twirling her pink wand and striking a pose. "Miracle Girl Levi-tan knows a mook when she sees one."

"While my colleague does have a point about your obvious bias," Sirzechs said diplomatically. "You also are not wrong that a few devils use their Pieces in such a way, which is against our laws. But just as many humans voluntarily join a Peerage, they are comrades and friends of their Kings. I see my Peerage as family, and I know my sister is the same."

He then turned to address the left side of the room.

"The simple truth is that my race would have gone extinct without humans. Since then, humanity has had a great deal of influence on us in elements like culture or technology. Like all people have our bad apples, we are not the predators he claims we are." Sirzechs looked at Eren and gave him a commiserating look. "I am sorry for whoever you lost, but our ability is limited to those who recently passed, and they have to be relatively whole. Unless you have their body here and they died in the last hour, I am afraid we cannot bring them back."

"Fascinating," Hange said, breathing deeply and excitedly leaning forward. Levi grabbed the back of their jacket to keep them in place. "So you do not need to consume human flesh? And what qualifies as 'whole?' Dismemberment? Disembowelment? Decapitation? Do you need the head or the torso?"

Hange's... Hange-ness put off the group from the right side and the graduates behind them.

"Human. Devil. Angel. Taste bad." Ophis added 'helpfully.' "Squish or blast."

She said it all as she dangled Issei upside down by his hand without looking at the group.

"...meat," Sasha muttered, drooling at the smells coming from the tables. She'd subtly inched her way closer and was now out of formation.

Connie tried to pull her back, but she struggled free.

"Is no one going to help me!?" Issei begged but was summarily ignored.

He hit his head on the ground again.

"I think we need more answers before anything else," Erwin said eventually, gesturing for the soldiers to put down their weapons, except for Levi's, which he took and ran the blade across his hand.

Not his palm, as that was an excellent way to get permanent damage and blood loss, but rather across his knuckles.

Despite being a sword made to cut Titan's flesh, the blade did not so much as scratch his skin.

"Not like we can do anything to each other at the moment," he said as he looked at his unblemished skin.

"Then how about I use our last question to get some information we can all use," Sirzechs suggested. "Once we use them all, we will begin this 'reading,' which I believe was the original reason we were brought here and will give us the most information."

Nobody seemed to disagree, so the Lucifer turned to the figure on the stage.

Erwin did note the blase way most on the right side of the room were handling the situation. They were still wary and cautious, but they seemed to adapt quickly to this absurdity. In fact, many seemed even eager.

The Reader was still seated in their bean bag, the silly disguise over a face of shadow, and was now drinking a colourful drink out of a swirly straw.

"You said we would understand why we were chosen to attend this as the story progressed. Why was this... event set up in the first place?"

"Curiosity. A whim of a capricious being to ask a question: When presented with Knowledge, what will you do? There are no wrong answers. Just choices. Knowledge? Or ignorance? They simply wanted to explore a possibility of a possibility of a possibility."

The figure took another sip from their fruity drink as they finished speaking.

The answer was... helpful in a way. It told them the being behind this, for all their power, didn't wish them harm. It was also so vague as to be almost useless.

Erwin frowned slightly as Sirzechs looked at him. Almost everyone was looking at him, and he took a long time to speak.

"Of the beings in this room," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Who are the greatest threats to humanity?"

There were raised eyebrows, but the Reader paused for the first time before answering.

"Due to the complex nature of the question and the possible answers, I will allow you to make a clarification. Do you wish to know who is an existential threat to humanity leading to extinction or who is most likely to cause significant loss of human life? You may use both your remaining questions to get both answers."

Erwin's frown deepened, and he thought some more.

There was a trap there.

Strictly speaking, anyone who was a risk of leading humanity to extinction should be the one also most likely to kill a bunch of humanity.

On the surface, the first question should be the one answered.

But Erwin had also placed his own trap in his question. He needed to know who was more trustworthy among not only the people from the right side of the room but also the Reader and even those with suspicious points on his own side.

He hadn't ignored the odd descriptors of 'Warrior' or that four new graduates were placed above Levi as threats if that was how the Reader chose the order of introductions.

... Even if someone could not pose a threat of extinction due to weakness or inability, that didn't mean they could be trusted.

"The second question only."

"Everyone here poses a risk to large numbers of humanity, on purpose or on accident. Some just have more power. But, in order of likelihood of causing a significant loss of life to humanity deliberately, the most probable ones are thus: Eren Yeager. Cao Cao. Bertolt Hoover. Reiner Braun. Annie Leonhart."

There were cries of denial and outrage.

"Why?" Eren cried. "There's no way that's true!"

"I don't know, nyaa~" Kuroka giggled teasingly. "Humanity is pretty good at killing each other. Most devils and monsters don't really care about humans. Why would we kill a bunch of you?"

Perhaps only a few noticed how she subtly shifted, so she stood between Eren and Koneko.

"Aren't you a devil?" Reiner frowned, crossing his arms. "Why should we believe you? Nobody on your side seems to like you."

"It doesn't make sense," Annie agreed, her face blank as she pointed at Ophis. "None of us can do what she did."

Ophis had given up trying to get Ddraig to talk to her and was now just standing in place, staring blankly into space.

"Like I said, Ophis is... unique," Sirzechs shrugged. "Would you care about the ants that build their home on another continent? Would you go out of your way to kill them? And each of our factions needs humanity in one way or another. The only reason a lot would die because of us is if the Great War broke out again, and none of us want that."

"Or if someone caused an incident out of bias," Serafall said, sticking her tongue out at Cao Cao, who had narrowed his eyes at the Reader.

"What's a continent?"

The voice, one who hadn't spoken until now, stopped any argument before it could start.

Koneko asked the question as everyone stared at the boy who had spoken.

"...What?" the Rook deadpanned.

Armin Arlet flushed in embarrassment as even Eren and Mikasa looked at him curiously.

"It's just... the words..." he mumbled, voice getting quieter and quieter under all the attention until it was unintelligible.

"What do you mean, Armin," Mikasa asked gently, trying to encourage her friend.

"...You've been using a lot of words I don't know. I thought... why? It may be important. Like, where are you from?"

"But how do you not know what a continent is?" Issei asked, trying to rearrange his clothes. "I'm an idiot, and I know what they are."

"Hey!" Eren growled, stepping up to the other teen. "Armin's smarter than you'll ever be."

"I think this is a lack of education, not intelligence," Sona said in agreement, her glasses glittering. Then she answered Armin's question. "A continent is a large landmass, usually above a tectonic plate, surrounded by the ocean. There are seven or six continents on Earth, depending on how you wish to count Eurasia, including Africa, Oceania, North America, South America, and Antarctica."

If she thought her description would help, she was mistaken.

"What's 'the ocean?'" Hange asked, looking at the younger woman glasses to glasses.

That... got some befuddled looks.

Sona, confused but always willing to teach, answered.

"An ocean is... well, oceans are generally subdivided, but essentially, it is a massive body of saltwater containing a wide variety of aquatic and semi-aquatic life forms, both plant and animal. They cover roughly seventy percent of the Earth's surface."

It barely took a moment for their words to sink in, but Armin lept on them, now confident of his guess.

"You're from beyond the walls!"

His words, in turn, led to a more visceral reaction from those on his side.

"Nah, can't be. There's nothing beyond the walls but Titans," Jean instantly denied.

"Everyone knows that," Annie said bluntly, crossing her arms and looking at the other side. "They're strange, but they're not Titans. Probably from one of the northern districts. Or from inside Wall Sheena."

"No." Erwin denied, his words and tone of voice instantly silencing the cadets. Levi's glare probably helped. "They are from beyond the Walls."

He had guessed as much as soon as he had gotten a look around. Their names were utterly foreign, as were their 'races' and looks. That woman clearly had inhuman traits. Being the commander, he had seen the King and the higher-ups of the kingdom and travelled to every part of the walls. Nobody like them existed in the interior.

Hange had perhaps guessed the same as Erwin but hadn't brought it up. Levi was just Levi.

Erwen hadn't brought it up because he didn't want to give away the fact that they were from inside the Walls.

Walls served two purposes. To keep things out...

... Or to keep things in.

If people existed beyond the Walls...

Erwin hadn't expected the cadets, still young and in shock about this situation, to piece it together based on a few words.

Still, those on the right hadn't reacted negatively to the knowledge they were from inside the Walls. In fact, they seemed confused and curious.

"I take it that you are from a rather... isolated community?" Michael hedged politically. "If you are dealing with Titans... probably in Greece. They have been confined there since the Olympians overthrew them. I was unaware that there were still humans in their prison with them. I shall talk to Zeus about extracting you."

"You... can get us out of the walls?" Eren asked, almost disbelieving. His side also looked at the angel in suspicion, disbelief, or hope.

"Nobody should be forced to endure Kronos and his ilk." Michael gave a soft head nod.

"Pardon me, Michal," another new voice spoke up hesitantly, holding no small amount of wariness. The Seraph turned to the Queen, and Akeno gave a polite but shaky smile. "I do not believe you are not speaking of the same 'Titan.'"

Far from being offended, the blond gave the half-devil a nod for her to explain.

"A... quirk of our Language ability is that it translates other languages to the one we are most familiar with. Japanese, in my case. When you say 'Titan,' I hear 'Taitan,' the word usually written in katakana to represent the predecessor of the Olympians. When they say 'Titan,' I hear 'Kyojin.' Literally 'Giant Man.'"

"I hear 'Juren' from them." Cao Cao nodded in agreement. He looked at the group on the left. "Describe these Titans."

(Issei's confused mutter of 'They aren't speaking Japanese?' was ignored.)

Hange needed no excuse.

"They are a fascinating lifeform," they began eagerly. "Humanoid in appearance, they range in height from two to twenty-five meters tall on average, though we have seen exceptions. The largest was the Colossal Titan, which appeared only once and stood at an estimated sixty meters. There are several fascinating aspects of their biology. First, they seem to operate solely on sunlight, having no need to eat at all. During the night, most shut down completely unless disturbed. Similarly, they have neither an anus for waste nor a urethra for urine expulsion, suggesting they do not even need water. In fact, they are completely lacking in any form of sexual characteristics. Despite their discrepancies in size and appearance, no Titan has ever been observed with genitalia or secondary sexual characteristics of any sort. Neither breasts nor buttocks. They also have a variety of other oddities. Their ability to heal from almost any wound. Their disproportionately light bodies for their size. The odd behaviour of Abnormals. Their focus on humans when they can't digest anything. Why do they ignore other animals, like horses? Where do they come from? Why do some seem intelligent? What happened to-"

"Excuse me," Sirzechs interrupted Hange's quick spew of words with a raised hand. His face was set in a severe look that pierced the captain. "Do you mean to say that these... Kyojin eat humans?"

"Yes," Hange nodded eagerly, their smile undiminished. "But why? It's not for survival. As far as we can tell, no Titan has ever died of starvation. And why just living humans? They do not target the dead. It makes no sense, especially considering that it is actively detrimental to them. Without a digestive system, they regurgitate the bodies when their stomachs are full, and their stomach acid is nowhere near powerful enough to melt them fully to make such a task easy. When a Titan is spitting up their victims, it is one of their most vulnerable moments, so it makes no sense. Unless there is something-"

"Hange," Erwin said simply. "That's enough."

Through it all, he'd been watching everyone closely. Those on his side had the usual reaction to Hange's exuberance. Disgust. Fear. Rage. A grim, fatalistic look in their eyes.

Especially those who'd survived the fall of Maria and been in Shinganshima. Their eyes held the shadow Erwin was used to seeing in his soldiers.

But the expressions on the other side of the room told him what he needed to know.

Baring Ophis, who was clearly inhuman in mindset and didn't care, the older member listened grimly. Just quiet disgust and grim acceptance.

The teens, however, were the real prize.

The boy, Issei, looked like he was going to vomit. He was the worst off, but none of the others could keep the horror or shock off their face. Even the slightly older members, Vali, Kuroka, and Cao Cao, held looks of disgust and revulsion.

Unless everyone here was a superb actor, this was the first time anyone had heard of Titans.

"And these walls were created to keep Titans out?" Azazel guessed. "That's how you survived without magic?"

Magic. There was a whole other topic that needed to be explored.

"They're a cage," Eren spat. "Once we kill them all, we won't need them anymore."

Erwin side-eyed the boy.

'The most likely to cause a significant loss of life.'

He hadn't forgotten that... or that four of the five mentioned were not only on his side but were part of this year's graduating cadets.

In the end, he needed to prioritize. If these... warriors had remained inactive for this long, combined with their inability to do harm in this place, then gathering more information was his priority.

"You have an idea." Sirzech's said. It was not a question.

"Our host mentioned something in their speech," Azazel waived at the Reader.

They were eating popcorn.

"'Two worlds, so different yet so similar.' It could have been hyperbole or even a reference to Earth and the Underworld, but I don't think so. I think they were being literal."

"You believe them to be from beyond the Gap?" Michael raised a brow, looking over the humans in interest.

"It's never been proven, but the theory for other worlds is sound," Azazel nodded. "And if the Reader is stronger than Ophis..."

The fallen didn't need to explain further.

If this being was so much stronger than Ophis, they could at least rival Great Red, the most significant impediment to exploring the Dimensional Gap.

"Other worlds?" Hange asked.

"A different reality," Azazel explained. "With different rules, planets, peoples, and even monsters. Our side has always believed that other worlds are theoretically possible, but we've never been able to prove it."

Erwin couldn't help the disappointment welling up in his chest.

Of everyone there, he'd been the most excited in this situation.

He'd controlled it, but the dream in his heart, nurtured in secret since his time as a boy who'd inadvertently asked the wrong question and gotten his father killed, had stirred when he'd deduced these beings weren't from within the walls.

He'd been right, but they were from so far away that they couldn't answer the burning question in his heart.

Was his father right?

Erwin's gaze turned toward their... 'host.'

If these others did not have his answer, then the 'Reader' might.

They had one question left.

Did Erwin risk the possibility of the answer not being in that book? He'd regret it for the rest of his life if it wasn't.

But this being, this Dangerous Reader, seemed to be all-knowing. And powerful.

One question.

Knowledge.

Or ignorance.

"Erwin."

Erwin looked at Levi as his name was called out. Then he looked to Hange. To the graduates. To the possible traitors.

Erwin felt all eyes on him. Those present and those whose corpses he stood atop as commander of the survey corps.

They all looked at him.

One question left.

Erwin had sent men and women out to die. Made decisions that cost tens of lives.

Never had he felt so torn.

Only one question.

His dream...

...Or the hearts humanity had dedicated to a future that might be impossible.

"What is the best way to destroy every titan in the world so they will never bother humanity again?"

Erwin Smith made the choice and hated it.

It was the wise one, he knew. The fact that he was here, according to the Reader, meant he had something to learn from this book. If that was the information he'd chased his entire life, then wasting this question to get that answer would be unforgivable.

Actionable information, one that probably wasn't in that book, was the best gain. More than theoretical knowledge that Hange could gain through experimentation, a plan to eliminate the threat entirely was what humanity needed.

Not once had they ever reclaimed anything from the Titans, and this was their chance.

Erwin asked the question as the weight of the dead hung on his shoulders.

The Dangerous Reader's features were still concealed by the shadows, yet when they answered, one could almost imagine the smile in their voice.

"The best method available to you, at this moment, to guarantee the extermination of all Titans is to ensure that Eren Yeager listens to this story all the way to the end."

All eyes fell on the boy once more. Some in curiosity, some in confusion, many in suspicion.

For his part, Eren looked befuddled as Mikasa stepped between him and the rest of the room. She didn't say anything, but her stance was clear.

If they wanted Eren, they needed to get through her first.

Eren, of course, ignored it and stepped toward the Reader.

"What's your problem with me? What do you mean with all this crap?"

The Dangerous Reader didn't answer. They just put down their popcorn, wiped their hand on the bean bag, and reached toward the small dias.

Eren tried to approach but couldn't move beyond the small barrier separating the stage from the rest of the room.

As the Reader pulled the book closer, leaning back in their seat to get comfortable and opening the cover, the room occupants also took their seats.

Well, most of them.

Many still grouped together, either for safety or to talk in hushed whispers. A few, such as Cao Cao, Vali, or Levi, remained standing to keep their guard up.

Issei just stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do.

Ophis was as animated as a statue and just as engaged as one.

Once the murmurs of conversation died down (and Armin and Mikasa managed to wrangle Eren into a seat), The Dangerous Reader adjusted their novelty glasses and mustache, cleared their throat dramatically, and began to read.

"On The Bench-"

Unfortunately, this was too much. The torture had been going on for too long, and a question that went unanswered spilled out from desperate lips.

"When can we eat!?"

The Dangerous Reader paused mid-sentence, leaned forward slightly over the book, and, though nobody could see their face, everyone knew they were giving Sasha Blouse The Look that all teachers gave to disruptive students.

Sasha didn't look repentant in the slightest, glaring back at the powerful being even as Connie tried to cover her mouth and Jean smacked her on the back of her head.

The Reader didn't answer. It would only speak the words on the page.

But they did waive dismissively toward the back of the room as they resettled in.

Sasha whooped in joy and burst from her friend's grasp, running toward the food and drink behind them.

She immediately began stuffing her face.

Connie and Jean shared a long-suffering look.

Then they went to join her, afraid nothing would be left for them.

Most of the other graduates trickled over with a bit more decorum and began eating the best meal of their lives.

Those on the right side of the room watched them in fascination and disbelief as they descended on the food like a pack of starving hyenas.

After a moment, Kuroka let out a throaty chuckle and sauntered over to pour herself a cup of sake.

"Aren't you a lively lot, nyaa~"

"Meat~" Sasha... moaned... through a mouthful of steak, tears streaming down her eyes in rapturous joy.

Kuroka's eyes softened the tiniest bit, and she left them to eat their meal, retaking her seat in the corner with her drink in hand.

Once she was gone, Koneko snuck over to the food table, accompanied by others enticed by the delicious smells or the prospect of something to drink while they listened.

After a moment of no one else speaking and under the sound of ravenous feasting, the Reader began once more.

"On The Bench."

And so began the tale, in that dream that might disappear at any moment.

A possibility of a possibility of a possibility.

"Chapter One."

Would anything come of its telling?

Possibly not.

"To You, A World Away."

But the hope that something better might arise from painfully gained Knowledge was enough justification to tell it.

********

ReadingDangerously, WTF is this?

This, my dear readers, is part 1 of two of an omake for On The Bench.

I wanted to do something as a thanks to everyone who wrote their own and celebrate the anniversary of On The Bench. I was thinking about various ideas and, by chance, came across a 'Reading Fic.'

The pun called to me.

Reading fics aren't really my cup of tea. Too often, they add nothing to the story and don't really capitalize on what might be their greatest hope. The character development of the 'canon' characters exploring their future/past/possibility.

Since OTB is a fanfiction, and the epilogue can be considered a fanfiction of a fanfiction, I thought it would be funny to make a fanfiction of a fanfiction of a fanfiction.

Since it's my fanfiction all the way down, I have created the ultimate form of masturbatory writing!

Then I hit a snag.

I took it too seriously and created a (roughly) 15k monstrosity!

Who could have expected this from me, ReadingDangerously, who created a 150k word 'prologue' for Rapturous Rapsody and turned my 75k word fic, On The Bench, into a 350k monstrosity?! It's unthinkable. Inconceivable!

Honestly, it's been fun to write again after a month and a half off. I will not be doing a whole 'Reading Fic' for OTB.

Not only would that cut off time from other stories I'm working on, but it would also be too masturbatory for even me.

So, you'll have to settle for this, the intro, and chapter 1 on Sunday. That will be the last posting for On The Bench. A sad farewell, but one that has to come at some point.

I will see you all on Sunday.

 

[kz3838]

I have enjoyed reading fics for the most part, mostly due to the different ways people believe that characters would react to the "future" or different realities. I am curious to see how they react to the first chapter, and though I am sad to see this come to an end it has been a fantastic ride. Stay safe out there and keep up the good work!

 

[Kalstorm22]

Fun idea, I'm quite excited to see how this will affect all of the characters and just what sort of Knowledge they will gain. See you Sunday.

 

[ReadingDangerously]

It was a desolate wasteland.

Towering dunes of sand as far as the eye could see, with only the bright blue of the stars to serve as a light in this cold, lonely world.

No great tree of light towered in the distance, its innumerable branches reaching out in billions of Paths, linking past, present and future together.

There was but one Path in this world of blue radiance. One line of light at the center of the world.

No young girl wandered these dunes, building the bodies of Titans, tens of metres tall, one pail of sand at a time.-

"Wait!" Hange shouted, shooting to their feet.

The Reader paused. They didn't seem annoyed or inconvenienced, like when Sasha interrupted to ask for food.

Then again, this entire setup was designed to encourage spreading knowledge through listening, talking, and thinking. To discourage talking about the story itself would be counterproductive.

Still... they weren't even five whole paragraphs in and already the story had shocked half the room.

This was going to be a looooooog reading.

"Titans are built! By sand! By a child!" Hange declared, trembling in excitement with every word.

"So there is magic in your world," Azazel hummed, rubbing his chin in thought.

"It explains so much," Hange rambled, their thoughts flying a mile a minute. "Their bulbous proportions, their idiosyncracies in appearance and behaviour. If they're sand, then they can be formed easily, but each will be different. And a child wouldn't have the skill or knowledge to create actual human forms. Eye to face ratios. Limb length or torso size. They're all a child's drawings!"

"You seem really invested in these man-eating monsters," Cao Cao stated, giving Hange a measuring look.

"Because they are fascinating! Did you know that-"

"Keep it quiet for now," Levi grunted, pushing Hange back into their seat. He knew that if they were going to get anywhere, he needed to keep the squad leader on a tight leash.

Hange looked affronted momentarily, but Erwin's look turned a complaint into a deep breath.

Once they had silence, the Reader continued as if they hadn't been interrupted.

-No Eldian ("Eldian?") goddess dwelled in this eternal prison, eternally trapped to her bloodline and the power that dwelled inside it.

("Are titans created to help break someone out of somewhere? Why?"

Levi smacked Hange to shut them up.

This time, it stuck... for a while.)

In this desolate wasteland, all existence was naught but sand and stars.

And a bench.

It wasn't a large bench. Long enough to support three adults if they were close enough to touch.

The bench's design was simplistic, with no extra flourishes or stylized embellishments, but it was well cared for despite clear signs of wear and tear. No splinters or frayed edges, despite signs of weather wear.

Its materials also were nothing special. Made of wood with iron fastenings, it wouldn't look out of place in a public park or on a sidewalk in an upper-class neighbourhood.

The bench, so at odds with the baren world around it, drew the eyes of the sole inhabitant of this wasteland like a moth to a flame. It lay thousands of kilometres away and yet so close. The only thing that existed in the empty world.

Eren Yaeger's tiny feet brought him to that bench.

All eyes turned to the boy again. A few looked down. Eren's brows were furrowed, and he glared at the Reader as if in a challenge.

His feet weren't tiny!

It didn't matter if his strides were short. He just had to put one foot in front of the other. Step after step.

Eren would reach it so long as he kept moving forward.

It took him years, decades, to travel to that bench in less than a second.

There were furrowed brows and confusion, but Azazel explained it easily... for most people.

"If it's the domain of a goddess, it could be relativistic time. One moment inside could be years outside."

Issei still looked confused, but nobody cared, and the story moved on.

Eren stared at the bench with blank eyes. Its top was eye level with his six-year-old body.

"That never happened." Eren declared with confidence. He might not have remembered everything from childhood, but he was confident he'd remember something like what was being described.

"'A possibility of a possibility.'" Michael quoted. "We should not take the story as actual fact but rather as fiction. A story of 'what could be.'"

"It's a fanfiction!" Serafall cheered.

Rias shook Akeno's shoulder in excitement, and the Queen gave her King a smile that spoke of long-suffering.

"Does this mean the origins of the Titans are false?" Hange looked devastated at the thought.

"Unlikely," Sirzechs shook his head. "You said it fit with what you've already observed. And the purpose of this... event is for us to gain knowledge, is it not? So, we should treat the 'story' as fiction but the 'Knowledge' as real. At least until proven otherwise."

That seemed to mollify the squad captain, and the room quieted down again.

The Reader continued.

Then he hoisted himself up and sat down.

The view before his eyes shifted.

The sky lightened from dark blue to a clear azure as the endless dunes of the Path were replaced with trees and a well-paved trail. In the distance, he could hear vehicles passing and spy hints of the tops of buildings peeking above the green foliage.

This was no forest, despite the denseness of the trees. This was a park, a slice of wilderness in a world of steel and cement.

It was a cozy little spot, drawing a yawn from Eren's young body.

"This bench is the meeting place," an older, tired voice told the young boy.

"Who am I meeting," Eren asked.

The man remained silent.

"Where is this? When is this?"

"Thirteen years in the future," the man answered the last question but ignored the first.

"Clairvoyance?" Michael asked seriously, and the entire right side of the room suddenly looked more alert.

That was an ability that changed everything.

After all, the only known clairvoyant was...

Eren looked at him then, understanding the importance of that number.

Most of those in the gathering room didn't understand the importance of thirteen years, except that thirteen was sometimes significant in some magical schools.

In the middle of the room, however, three graduates... three warriors suddenly looked at Eren with an intense focus.

They understood the importance of thirteen years.

Had this been why they had been called with the others? Had they found the coordinate? Or somehow wound up with the Jaw Titan they had lost. Those were the only possibilities.

...Unless he was the long-lost Attack Titan.

But why did Eren not seem to know about anything?

The man slumped, exhausted, against the bench's backrest. He collapsed in on himself as if he could not support the weight of his torso or head. His head rested against the wood, the seat frame supporting him so he could stare at the sky, where white clouds drifted lazily by.

His clothes were in tatters, torn and shredded and covered in blood. Small chunks of flesh were missing from his body, weeping red ichor openly. Slight wafts of steam rose from his injuries, but it was too weak to heal the numerous wounds.

That drew numerous looks from those on the left. Why would this man have steam coming from his injuries? That was how Titans healed.

The man's body was emaciated, skin sunken over what might have been a muscular form once, now nothing more than a husk.

A walking cane leaned against his legs, a pair of stylized wings the only ornament on an otherwise plain stick.

Grey eyes stared upward at the sky, ringed by deep Shifter Marks. More dotted his face along sunken cheeks like teeth. Still more covered every inch of exposed skin.

He looked weak. Battered. Injured. Sick.

He was minutes from death.

"Why are you smiling," the six-year-old Eren asked his nineteen-year-old self.

"What do you mean?!" Mikasa demanded. "What happened to him? Who did that?"

Thinking this mysterious dying man was a possible enemy or Titan was one thing.

It was a whole other thing to hear that it was Eren. A nineteen-year-old dying Eren.

Mikasa refused to allow something like that to happen.

Not to Eren.

Not ever.

"A story," Armin hurried to remind her, grabbing her arm to try and hold her back before she attempted to launch herself across the barrier. "Remember, just a story. This hasn't happened and won't happen."

"I'm fine," Eren grunted, also holding his sister back. "I never did... whatever this is. Whoever wrote this story made it all up. I'm not gonna die. Not until every Titan is dead."

Barely mollified, Misaka sat back down, but one hand held Eren's in place while the other clutched at her scarf.

Jean sat back down, no longer hungry.

The older Eren didn't answer, gazing up at the blue sky with a contented, fulfilled smile on his sallow face.

It didn't matter that he would die in thirteen years. He had already died once.

"He's a reincarnation," Cao Cao's smile was vulpine. When eyes turned to him, he grinned at Eren. "When a Hero's soul is strong enough, it stays whole after death and returns. My comrades in my faction are also reincarnations. This story is not the past. It is the future."

"No, it's not." Mikasa denied it, and Eren winced instinctively when her hand tightened on his wrist. Then he realized it didn't hurt.

"Reincarnated souls do not remember their past lives," Michael pointed out. "Unless your comrades also remember their past lives, he shouldn't if this were real."

Cao Cao shrugged, his smile undiminished.

What mattered was that smile.

The young boy was envious of that smile.

That pure expression of joy was the most hateful and beautiful thing Eren had seen in a long time.

When was the last time he had smiled?

"Can you do it again?"

The question was asked quietly. Softly.

There was a finality, a sense of encroaching doom and resolution in the voice.

Yet the older boy still smiled.

"Why would I?" Eren asked his older self. "I do not know why or how I was reborn in this world. My friends are not here. Historia is not here. Armin is not here. Mikasa is not here. There are no Titans, no Marley. No walls."

"Well, that proves it." Cao Cao said smugly.

Mikasa looked like she would have strangled him if she could.

"He knew Kris- um, Historia's name," Armin muttered, looking at the girl behind them. She tried to smile at the blond, and Ymir glared as if daring him to say something. Armin turned away quickly. "But what's Marley?"

"More interesting is that if it is the future, and he crossed over somehow, that would explain why we are all here?" Azazel asked, rubbing his chin.

Erwin listened but didn't say anything.

There was another point of note, one nobody wanted to bring up.

Why was a smile so hateful that the boy couldn't remember the last time he had done so?

"Can you do it again?"

Eren looked up at the azure sky, thinking about the question.

Could he go through it all again?

All the pain, tragedy, heartbreak, betrayal, guilt, and loss?

Mikasa's hand tightened on Eren's wrist again, but he barely noticed, too engrossed in his 'future.'

All the crimes he had committed for which there was no redemption?

'Crimes?' Many thought in curiosity.

Could he repeat it, become the enemy of the world despite knowing what lay at the end?

Cao Cao's smile only grew larger and larger as almost all eyes remained fixed on Eren.

This story was not painting him in a good light at all.

For one last time, could Eren Yeager, the Devil, dedicate his heart to something?

Sirzechs suddenly looked a lot more intrigued.

"I can."

"Then you'll know why I'm smiling."

"I suppose I will," Eren murmured as a nonexistent breeze brushed past the pair sitting on the bench.

"Remember, you only have thirteen years," the older Eren said softly, his voice fading.

As if whatever tiny glowing ember had kept him going for so long was finally sputtering out.

"Then I should get started," Eren said, standing from his seat.

The trees disappeared with the azure sky as his feet met the sand.

All that remained were the dunes of The Path, the countless stars above and the bench.

And a six-year-old Eren saw it all.

The Path.

The Enemy.

The Walls.

And the cost of it all.

"I see," Eren said, eyes gazing at the future he would build.

"So it is clairvoyance," Michael sighed, looking at the... boy who seemed to be the center of it all. "Have you always possessed this ability? Do you occasionally get flashes? Insights that you couldn't explain?"

"No," Eren growled, well and truly fed up with everyone either looking at him like he was a monster or as if he was made of glass. "This is all crap! None of this happened! None of this is gonna happen!"

"Yeah," Jean 'agreed.' "The suicidal idiot's not some great 'Devil.' He can barely use ODM gear. More than likely, he will end up in a Titan's mouth."

"You-"

"Be quiet." Levi's glare panned from Eren, before he could answer, to Jean.

They might be physically safe, but both decided not to push it.

They'd both heard of Levi before, and even if this 'Reader' considered Eren more dangerous, the boy was very aware of the power of an Ackerman.

"Not yet," his older self corrected with a long, weary sigh of relief. "But you will."

The man on the bench, Eren from thirteen years in the future, died with a smile.

The bench faded from the Path.

Though Eren could see his future memories passed back to him by himself, there were gaps. Holes in a tapestry. Voids of darkness in an otherwise clearly illuminated Path.

He could not see the bench, who he would meet there or when it would be.

He could not see a reason to smile.

But he could see the end.

So Eren walked forward, gathering sand to build.

Even if he did not have a reason to advance now, Eren knew he would one day.

That was enough.

Eren Yeager would continue to push ever forward.

And, on a bench thirteen years away, Eren Yeager died alone with a small, content smile.

"Spoilers~" Serafall muttered under her breath with a pout, trying to break up the heavy atmosphere that had settled on the room.

It did have some slight effect, as her sister sighed and rubbed her eyes.

Before she could admonish her sister, though, the brief pause ended, and the story continued.

********

"Sir, please wake up," Sona Sitri shook the man's shoulder gently but firmly.

"Eh!?" Sona barely had time to mutter something in surprise at the sound of her name before she was pulled into her sister's chest.

"You stay away from So-tan!" Serafall threatened, her pink wand brandished toward the Dangerous Reader.

Sona struggled for freedom.

Fruitlessly.

Issei burned with envy.

The shift in focus of the story brought the right side of the room more into focus. They now actually had something they could grasp onto.

Sona Sitri was known to all of them (even Issei, if only as the Student Council President.)

Until now, it was all talk of other worlds and people they were meeting for the first time.

But now, one of 'theirs' was in the story. That made it more real.

Would they be next?

And... was this story also going to predict their deaths?

"Mm...?" He murmured groggily as he awoke.

"Are you alright, sir?" She asked, stepping away slightly as he grasped his cane tightly and used it as leverage to sit up on the bench.

"Hm?"

"You were crying," she pointed out.

The man raised a hand to his cheeks, feeling the two liquid streams. His hand followed the trail of tears up to the wet bandages that wrapped from the tip of his nose to his forehead.

"Huh," he murmured softly, as if surprised.

"Is everything alright, sir?" Sona asked. "Do you need medical attention? Shall I call an ambulance?"

"No, I am fine," he shook his head as he wiped his cheeks. "A long dream. That is all."

"If you are certain," Sona asked dubiously, eyeing his skinny frame. "What are you doing here this late? Are you a student of Kuoh University?"

This park separated the high school from the university campus, and while not private property per se, it was hardly used by anyone besides Rias' Peerage.

(Rias practically vibrated from excitement at the sound of her name in the story.)

The only reason Sona had even found the blind (Blind? More than one mind asked themselves.) young man on the bench was because she was patrolling the school grounds.

Well, it was less of a patrol and more of a victory lap.

Her election as student council president might have been an almost forgone conclusion, but it was still another step toward her dream coming true.

"Wait!!" Sona said, finally pulling herself from the 'Sister Trap' as she thought of it. "That's not right."

"Yeah, how come you never mentioned meeting a blind boy?" Rias asked.

"Because I didn't," Sona shook her head. "I did... hem," Sona gave a slight cough as her cheek flushed. "Patrol... after I was elected Student Council President. But I didn't meet anybody! And no benches are set up through that area of the school."

"Because it's not the future," Eren nodded in agreement with the heiress. "It's just a fantasy."

While that certainly seemed the case, there was a nugget that was starting to worm its way into Eren's heart.

If... Just if... this wasn't the future but a 'possibility of a possibility...'

Then what was his future that being the 'Devil' and 'enemy of the world' was such a possibility.

It might be prideful to want to inspect her 'spoils of victory,' but she was a devil. She was all about pride.

That inspection had found the young man sleeping on the bench in the park, well inside the wards they had over this park area. Which is why she had approached in the first place.

"No, I am not smart enough for university," he denied with a sigh as he leaned more heavily on his cane. His voice was... off, Sona realized. Dead. Empty. Like all emotion had been drained from him.

"Intelligence is not a requirement for school," Sona insisted, the comment pushing her buttons. "Only a willingness to learn. To claim stupidity as an excuse is nothing but cowardice and laziness. There is no one too stupid to learn. There are only those who refuse to."

There was a beat of silence.

"You're right. Ignorance is no crime," the young man gave a tired nod. "It is only a crime if you refuse to change after learning. Only a genuinely thick blockhead would do that."

"That's Eren," Connie said confidently, sitting back in his chair with a drink, well and truly stuffed.

Sasha was still eating.

"Nah," Jean surprisingly disagreed. "He's too much of a thick blockhead to realize he's one."

Their laughter died under Levi's glare.

For some reason, Sona was sure the young man was talking about himself.

Sona realized she might have said too much.

The man on the bench, blind and weak, definitely had his own circumstances. He probably had a good reason for not going to school. Perhaps he had difficulty with brail, or his goal was something his physical condition prevented.

Either way, if Sona wanted to accomplish her dream of building a school for everyone, she would need to stop passing judgment so quickly.

Especially with how young she realized the man truly was. He was only a few years older than her at most.

Sitting on the opposite side of the bench, Sona looked out through the thick throng of trees. Some hundreds of meters away, hidden from view, was the old clubhouse where Rias lived and met with her Peerage.

"So long as you know that, it is never too late to learn."

"Sometimes it is too late," he rejected firmly. "Too late to travel the world, even if you want to. To visit the poles, a volcano, or a desert. To see the ocean. Sometimes, you don't have the time or the ability anymore."

Eren's fists clenched so hard that his knuckles went white, and Armin looked down.

He sounded so tired.

So worn down by the beatings of the world that all he wanted to do was sleep.

Sona wondered what he had gone through to sound so exhausted despite only being a teenager. It was a voice she had only heard a few times. When her family talked about times before her birth or on the few occasions her aunt spoke of home.

"We don't have an aunt," Serafall pointed out triumphantly. "You'll need to get up really early if you want to pull one over on Miracle Girl Levi-tan!"

The Reader continued, ignoring the wand directed their way.

"You never answered my question," Sona pointed out. "If you aren't a part of the university, what are you doing here? You are not part of the high school either, or I would recognize you."

"No, I am not a student at all. I was just passing by when I found this bench. It seemed like the best place for a nap. No memories to bother me." Though he did not smile, the way he spoke made her think that the ability to forget was the greatest gift in the world. "Just the wind, the sky, and the trees. I'm moving into the area. There are no rules against me being here, right?"

"There aren't," Sona answered the question.

Technically speaking, this wasn't school grounds but a public park. There was no rule or law preventing anyone from wandering in. That was why there were benches in the first place.

But there was also a ward around the area that prevented people from coming in or noticing anything from inside. A ward designed to keep the practice of the young Peerages unnoticed by the city's populace.

A ward that might have been bypassed by pure accident by a blind man because it was intent and sight-based. He had no magic, no supernatural power that she could feel, so it may have been purely accidental.

"That..." Azazel started to say... then paused and gave the matter some thought. "That might work. If someone didn't intend harm, was completely ignorant, and blind, they would be able to get through most non-physical wards. It's highly circumstantial, but it could actually work."

"Or you could just sneak in, nyaa," Kuroka pointed out, casually sipping her sake.

Unlike everyone else here, she didn't care about this 'Eren' kid.

She was just using this opportunity to look at her sister and ensure she was doing all right.

Being able to flaunt it under the Satan's gaze just made it all the better.

"Not everyone is a crazy criminal," Rias said, once more placing herself between Koneko and Kuroka.

Kuroka's smile was all teeth.

Sona considered having her family servants change the ward to be more complete when a thought entered her head.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen," he answered with a tilt of his head in her direction. "Why?"

"Why aren't you in school? Are you transferring in?"

"No, I am not going to school. I haven't for years since... this," he vaguely waived an arm over his body.

"When was the last time you had the chance?" Sona felt a pit in her stomach as he answered.

"In this country? I believe it would be the equivalent of... Elementary?" The way he half asked his answer filled the young heiress with horror.

Sona looked over at the left side of the room with profound pity.

"Do you know Japanese?" She asked the question desperately, though it didn't come across in her voice. Sona always maintained a professional demeanour when she could.

"Sasuga So-tan."

They had been speaking in English this entire time, which she had no trouble with, thanks to being a devil. Devils had an inherent ability to speak all languages fluently, but that was different for everyone else.

Kuoh was more metropolitan than most parts of Japan and thus had a higher percentage of people who were fluent in the lingua franca of the world. But a blind man should definitely speak the local language.

"I don't."

"What about your family? Are they familiar with the area or Japanese?"

"No family," he shook his head. "No friends. Just me. I'm all alone."

He didn't sound sad. Just a matter of fact.

The sky was blue, fire was hot, and he was alone.

Sona could only stare at the absurd existence before her for a second.

"If you don't speak the language, go to school or have family bringing you here, why are you moving to Kuoh?"

"I am here to meet someone," he shrugged softly.

"Who?"

"Don't know."

"Where then? And when?" Sona asked sternly.

Her wariness against the boy was starting to be replaced with genuine worry. There had to be someone out there who cared for him. He wouldn't have been able to survive otherwise.

"Here, on this bench," he said, patting the wooden seat between them. Then he paused as if searching for the right words. "As for when? I don't know exactly. Within two years. I know that much."

Sona mulled over the situation. Something had to be going on here that she wasn't getting.

"Do you have a place to stay?"

"A hotel nearby until I get a permanent address," he nodded, and the young devil sighed.

That was something, at least.

For a moment, Sona considered offering the young man a place at Kuoh Academy to keep an eye on him. Considering that Sitri and Gremory owned the school, it was well within her power, to say nothing of hypnosis. The gender restriction was to be removed this year to allow the heiress' Peerage to attend with them and widen the pool of potential recruits.

Eventually, Sona shook the thought away.

No, even if the boy wasn't years behind his peers, which he was, Kuoh was simply unequipped to handle a blind student on top of not knowing the local language.

A failing she would address in the future, but one that was relevant now.

Sona decided to bring that up at the next opportunity now that it had been pointed out to her.

Just because they didn't currently have a blind student didn't mean they wouldn't in the future.

Still, letting him go while he was so helpless in a foreign environment did not sit right with her. Rias might be a closet Otaku, but Sona knew that the Japanese were not kind to foreigners as a general rule. It was one of the reasons she was using the pseudonym of Souna Shitori rather than her actual name. Unlike Rias, with her red hair and outrageous... proportions, Sona could pass for Japanese, which made things easier for her.

This boy, on top of being foreign and not speaking the language, was clearly disabled. Sona could hardly think of an appearance more likely to ostracize someone in Japan. Sona might be a devil, but she still had a conscience.

"Are you still there?" The boy asked, his head facing the forest. "You are being quiet."

"I am still here," Sona answered seriously. "I am just trying to think about what to do with you."

"Do with me?" He repeated. Something in his voice made the young heiress hurry to explain.

"It wouldn't be right to let you leave when I can do something to help."

"You do not need to do anything," he insisted with a frown. It was the first show of emotion Sona had seen since waking him up. "I do not need help or a minder. I do not need to be babied."

"Definitely Eren," Armin muttered under his breath, and Mikasa gave a single nod of agreement and shot Sona a look that was commiserating to those who knew her.

To Sona, it looked blank... or even threatening.

"I am sure you don't," Sona agreed, though not in a patronizing way. She was well used to dealing with the pride of young men. If nothing else, he had moved to a foreign country alone in his condition. If that didn't speak about his ability, nothing did. "I was just wondering if you would like me to teach you Japanese?"

His frown lessened as he gave it some thought.

"It would be more convenient to be able to talk to people," he admitted grudgingly before suspicion entered his voice. "But why are you offering? You do not know me, and I don't know you. I can't pay you. I can give you nothing but my thanks."

"I want to be a teacher," Sona said resolutely. "One who will accept anyone. If you are willing to learn, then I will teach. As simple as that. Will you let me teach you?"

It would cut into her time as co-owner of the land, King of her Peerage and the new student council president.

But this was a chance.

She didn't know his circumstances, his goals, his history, or even his name. He was blind, claimed to be stupid, and was missing a decade of education. He also had a stubborn streak, a clear measure of pride, or he wouldn't be out here all alone.

Teaching him would be incredibly challenging.

But that was precisely why she wanted to teach him.

Sona Sitri did not dream of being a normal teacher.

Sona Sitri dreamt of a school for everyone. Her school would not discriminate on age, ability, race, status, or creed. Her dream school only had one requirement.

All who were willing to learn would be taught.

No exceptions.

Sona flushed slightly under the approving looks she was receiving from Michael and Azazel.

Serafall waived her two 'So-tan GO' flags.

It was a dream that flew in the face of thousands of years of tradition, a complete rebellion against her society and how the world worked.

It was a dream that only a handful supported and billions derided.

But it was Sona's dream.

One she would accomplish no matter what.

This blind, sick boy would be her first student.

First, she would teach him Japanese, then catch him up to his age group. Her job would only be done when he aced the university entrance exam.

If he was willing to learn.

"A teacher that accepts everyone, huh," he said softly. "That's an admirable goal. A good dream."

"I am dedicating everything to achieving it," Sona declared passionately, even if her voice remained as serious as ever.

There was a bit of a reaction from the left side of the room at the word choice, but nobody interrupted.

For a long moment, neither said anything.

"I will be a terrible student. I am no one special. I have no talent or genius. Things others grasp after one try will take me ten."

"It doesn't matter if it takes a hundred. A good teacher never gives up on their students. So long as you put forth the effort to learn, I will never abandon you."

"That's all I've ever been good for," he said. Another hint of emotion. Derision. "Blindly putting forth an effort, no matter the consequences. I suppose I will have to one more time."

"Then here is your first lesson," Sona said with a smile as she stood from the bench. "In Japan, when giving greetings, you are supposed to bow and address your teachers with the suffix 'sensei.' My name is Shitori Souna. Last name, then first name. You can call me Shitori-sensei when I am teaching."

While she taught him, she would look into him. There was no way he was all alone. Someone had to care for him, care that he was here. Maybe not family, but at least friends? Maybe whoever he was supposed to meet here.

He couldn't be all alone.

Nobody was born alone in the world.

"You'll have to forgive the lack of a bow," the young man said as he slowly rose to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane and holding out his hand to shake. "I am afraid I will not be able to get back up again. It is nice to meet you, Souna. My name is Eren. Yaeger Eren, if we go by this country's customs. I will be the worst student you will ever have."

Sona stepped in front of the young man who had faced the wrong direction and shook his hand.

"I will be the judge of that."

And so, a devil shook hands with The Devil.

It was the first meeting on the bench.

There was a pause as the first chapter ended, and the Reader reached for their drink before continuing.

"Did you realize?" Hange asked under their breath.

Erwin nodded.

"No point whispering," Vali interrupted. "We all have better senses than humans... Well, except for him."

The way the half-devil casually pointed his thumb over his shoulder at Issei made it clear that he didn't particularly care about the boy's feelings.

Rather than feel embarrassed, Erwin decided to share since they'd been caught.

"He's not blind," he noted simply. "The Eren of the story is simply using bandages to cover his eyes. He's pretending to be weak and letting the 'Sona' of the story make assumptions."

"What are your intentions for So-tan?" Serafall demanded, this time of Eren.

He just looked confused at the wand pointed at him.

"There was also something about 'shifter marks,'" Hange continued from Erwin. "If, as we suspect, this Eren has Titan-esque powers, he'd be healing from pretty much anything. It's possible these 'shifter marks' are a by-product."

"Maybe he gets Titan powers after this point in the story," Yuuto suggested. "He's waiting for someone. Maybe he's waiting for others from your world to give him powers."

"A possibility," Azazel acknowledged but shook his head. "But the nature of his clairvoyance is suspect. 'Holes in the tapestry.' It's a prophecy condition. He was only told enough to ensure that the future happens. If he knew who he was meeting and when then the future would change."

"Ms. Sitri may be who he was waiting for," Michael pointed out. "The framework of the story is suspect. One moment, he is six. The next he is on the bench, is probably years in the future and meets someone right away? Under the belief that this is all by design, whether his or someone else's, then any and every 'meeting' on the bench should be considered as 'the meeting.'"

While the older members were discussing framing and potential implications, Eren grappled with his own issues.

Such as Sasha trying to cheer him up by shoving a chicken leg in his mouth.

"Come'on," she laughed as Eren dodged out of the way. "When was the last time we had meat!? I was gonna steal some from the brass when we graduated, but this is even better. Ya gotta try this stuff."

"I'm not hungry," Eren said, pushing himself away and storming off in a huff.

Mikasa made to follow him as he started pacing, but Armin held her back.

"Give him some space," he advised. "It seems like this story, whatever it is, he's going to have a big part in it."

"...You don't think it's real, do you," Mikasa murmured, pulling her scarf up and watching Eren pace with worry.

"I... don't know," Armin admitted helplessly. "You heard the Reader. A possibility of a possibility. So... it probably isn't real in the sense that it will definitely happen, but... He... She... IT also said that this wouldn't be a happy story."

"We should leave," Mikasa said, looking from Eren to the large doors in the back wall. "Staying here is dangerous."

"Even if the commander let us, Eren wouldn't," Armin denied firmly. "That thing is crafty. The way it answered the last question... it ensured everyone on our side would stay till the end. Eren will not leave until he knows how to get rid of the Titans... and neither will anyone else on our side."

"I just want to know why it's focused on Eren," Mikasa grumbled.

"The way I see it," Sasha said, chewing on the chicken drumstick. "We can't do anything here but talk and listen, right? So treat it like one of those stories during survival training. Enjoy the food, have something to drink, and decide what to do when it's all done."

"Aren't you worried?" Armin asked.

"'Course I am," Sasha admitted. "But the whole point is that even if this is the future, we're here to find a better one, right? So, if it predicts my death next, then I just gotta not do what it predicted, right? Until then, you really have to try this stuff."

"What is it?" Mikasa asked as she received a cup of a... black liquid.

It bubbled ominously in her hand.

"No idea!" Sasha cheered, downing her own cup. "But it's soooo sweet. And tingly. I've had five cups already."

Cautiously, Mikasa took a tentative sip. She made a face right away but didn't put it down and took another sip.

"...Coke," a quiet voice said.

The three scouts turned to see the small, white-haired girl from the other side walk by them.

In her hands, she carried a large tray absolutely covered in food and drinks, rivalling her own size.

If she felt any strain from the weight, she didn't show it.

"You're... Koneko, right?" Armin asked, and the girl nodded. "What do you mean?"

"That's coke," Koneko nodded at the drink in Mikasa's hand. "'s a type of soda. Pepsi's better."

"Can you tell me what everything is?" Sasha asked eagerly.

Koneko nodded again.

"How come you're on this side?" Armin asked, then flushed as he realized how that sounded. "Not that you can't come over or anything, just... that looks heavy..." He trailed off awkwardly.

"Strong," Koneko said simply, releasing one hand holding the tray of food and drink and balancing it on the other without any apparent effort.

It was an impressive feat since she barely came up to their chests.

While that might have been part of the reason, Armin also noticed the yellow eyes of the black-haired woman with cat ears watching the girl.

Perhaps she had taken the long way around to avoid that one.

Armin, wisely, decided not to put his foot in his mouth again.

He was saved by the Reader finishing their fruity drink with a loud SLURP of their bendy straw, drawing the attention of the room once more.

People hurried back to their seats as the Dangerous Reader took up the book once more, Sasha following Koneko to the other side, plying the girl with questions rapid fire before the story resumed.

Eren, having vented a bit by pacing, was a bit calmer as he rejoined his friends.

Now that the shock had worn off and he knew what to expect, there was a glint of steel in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

Whatever came next, he needed to see this through to the end if he wanted to end the Titans.

He'd kill every single one of them.

********

There we go, the last update for On The Bench.

This two-part Omake is a bit more of a proof of concept that I wrote partly out of thanks and partly for my own amusement. As I mentioned before, I will not be continuing this, so if anyone wants to, they are free to do so.

I think it's only fitting I leave On The Bench right where I started it and on an open-ended note. So much of what On The Bench is is left to the reader to interpret, most notably where the characters go from here.

The past might have been written already, in tragedy or glory, but our Paths toward the future still lay before us.

So, for one final time.

Goodbye from the boy on the bench.

 

[kz3838]

Thank you for this last send off to On The Bench, it has been a fantastic read. Stay safe out there and keep up the good work!

 

[Kalstorm22]

Thanks for the fun and deeply interesting Omake, and a further thanks once again for writing such a great story and sharing it with us. Goodbye boy on the bench, thanks for sharing your story.