Chapter one
"Run," Ed called out. "It's the new intermediary! Let's go see if this one doesn't die during his coronation too. I hope Aaron pulls through, though."
He said it so casually — like it was normal for people to risk their lives every day for something that doesn't even make sense. It's still hard to believe that someone on that coronation committee isn't a murderer. Maybe they just enjoy killing sweet, hopeful souls in the name of tradition — like it adds flavor to the town's story.
"Someone needs to tell our town leaders the truth," I muttered, following Ed anyway. "The world doesn't need an intermediary between us and our ancestors. They want to rest—not run errands for the living."
But I walked with him. I'd still watch. It was both fascinating and disgusting, watching someone willingly hand themselves over to that kind of fate.
"You need the Intermediary too, Eren," Ed said, tapping me lightly as I caught up. "If we get it right this time—your lungs, your bones—everything could be strong again."
I shot him a disgusted look.
"I'm not sure if you're ignorant or just plain foolish. I can't decide. It's the 21st century, Ed. I was born like this. I wasn't cursed."
"Say that to your father—the one pulling strings in the coronation committee. Let's see how he explains your 'uncursed' lungs.,"
I sighed. The walk was starting to wear me out. I should've insisted we take the bikes.
"Want to bet on something?" I asked.
Ed glanced sideways. "What?"
"Aaron's going to die."
He stopped. His face froze, part shock, part something heavier.
You can't just say that," he hissed. "Aaron's our friend. He didn't choose this. His dad's the one pushing him, claiming he has some ridiculous strength. Honestly, that boy practically lives in the gym, what does he expect, that isn't super natural. Honestly, he just thinks he's useless unless he signs up to be something greater."
"That's exactly my point," I said. "Those coronation committee people are frauds — psychotic murderers playing prophet while refusing to admit that their gods are dead."
"Your father is one of them."
"I didn't say he wasn't."
"I won't bet on Aaron's life. I'm sure he's more scared than any of us right now. If the first candidate dies during the coronation, Aaron will run. I'm sure of it."
"Okay," Ed said, a little more quietly now.
"Sometimes," he added, "I wonder if this weak body of yours is what you deserve. You say terrifying things like it's nothing."
"Death isn't terrifying, Ed. It's the mystery behind it that scares people."
"Same difference," he muttered. "Anyway… I'm planning to help Aaron escape. If the first one dies, I'm not letting him stay."
I glanced over at him and scoffed. "I like how hopeful you are."
I glanced at him and scoffed. "I like how hopeful you are."
"And I like how pessimistic you are," he shot back.
The coronation house began to come into view. I didn't say anything else. Just kept walking, my chest tightening as we got closer.
By the time we stepped into the great hall, I was already over it. I knew what was coming. These people—they were going to die. You could see it in their eyes. Bulging, terrified, already half lost. And Aaron—my friend—his fear was a different kind. He saw it coming. He saw what most of them couldn't.
Then the doors creaked open and the coronation committee filed in, my father among them. As always, their movements were choreographed, dramatic, unnecessary. The lights began to flicker and spark from impossible corners of the room—signs, they claimed, from our great ancestor, choosing a vessel. Picking a new intermediary.
I stood up.
"Where are you going?" Ed asked, his head bowed like everyone else's.
"Out. To save Aaron."
"What do you mean? The coronation's not even halfway—let's wait, be sure."
"Follow me if you want," I told him.
I felt the eyes turning, dozens of them, staring at the only person standing in the middle of the hall. Right in the center of the ancestral lighting that, apparently, could kill me.
I didn't care.
And if the ancestors were still alive, they could have me. Take the soul of a weakling. I offer it freely.
I walked straight toward Aaron, and that's when the committee noticed me. My father's eyes went wide—wider than I'd ever seen.
"Get back, young boy!" a hollow voice thundered.
The room shifted. Tension rippled through the crowd.
"Aaron!" I shouted. "Stand up. Run. Out the back. Go straight to the edge of the land!"
It was like he'd been waiting for those exact words. He sprang up without hesitation, without looking back, and bolted.
But the real shock wasn't him. It was the first intermediary candidate—the volunteer—the one who came willingly. He was running too, even faster, chasing freedom right behind Aaron.
Gasps broke out across the room. Everyone rose, stunned. No one chased. Not yet. They just stared, frozen.
I turned to face them.
"Look at that lightning," I said, pointing up. "You think that's the ancestor happy to receive another servant? That's fury. You keep summoning the dead like they owe you. They don't. Maybe it's time to use our heads."
The silence that followed told me I had pushed it too far. I could feel it in the air.
If I didn't start running now, I'd be the substitute intermediary.
I met Ed's eyes. He nodded.
I ran—opposite direction from Aaron—just as Ed shouted behind me, "There's a light by the door!"
A distraction.
Good one.
I pushed with everything I had, every weak bone, every shallow breath, lungs screaming at me. I ran like hell until I reached the creek bend.
And then—I stopped.
Because I saw something that had to be a hallucination.
Figures in armor, dragging Aaron and the other boy—toward the edge of the village. The edge no one ever crosses. The literal end of our land. Beyond it… nothing. Just waterfalls that nobody could access, not even drones have done that successfully.
I blinked.
They were still there.
"What is that?" Ed's voice behind me broke the silence.
And just like that, I knew—it wasn't a hallucination.
We were both seeing it.
"Hey" I called out impulsively