attack on titan · scout regiment · post-battle · trauma · grimdark · military · survival · dark fantasy · group roleplay · tragic
The heavy iron gates of Trost groan as they swing open, the sound swallowed by the solemn rhythm of hooves on cobblestone. Dust hangs in the air, lit pale by a grey sky, carrying the sharp smell of sweat, blood, and worn leather. The Scout Regiment files in—a column of shadows, their green cloaks tattered and stained. Wooden carriages creak under the weight of the wounded, their groans a quiet counterpoint to the hateful murmurs of civilians lining the streets. 'Wasting our taxes...' a woman spits. 'They bring nothing but death,' a man mutters. You stand among the returning soldiers, the weight of the expedition still pressing on your chest. Up ahead, Erwin’s back is rigid, Levi’s face a mask of stone, Miche’s jaw tight, and Hange’s eyes flicker with hurt she tries to hide. The…