Eren's POV
The wheels of the supply cart creaked as it trundled along the dirt road, the late summer wind brushing against my face like a reminder that the world was still alive beyond the walls. Fields of yellow grass rippled on either side of the path, dotted with small farmhouses and the occasional shepherd guiding his flock. For the common people, this was peace. For me, it was nothing but the calm before the storm.
Two years.
Two long years had slipped by since the day I first opened my eyes in this world and saw Mikasa and Armin. Two years of playing my role as Eren Yeager while subtly changing myself into something else entirely. Not the reckless child screaming about freedom, but the one who would take freedom, bend it, and shape it into a kingdom of my own.
There was something else bothering me though. I didn't get any notification to create new abilities. I guess that the time of cooldown has to pass on the world I gained my ability. I have to do some investigation about this.
Still, as the training camp loomed ahead, I allowed myself the luxury of a smile.
"Eren, you're spacing out again," Armin's voice broke my thoughts.
I blinked and glanced sideways. The blond boy sat on the edge of the cart with a thoughtful expression, his eyes always wandering—toward the horizon, toward the walls in the distance, toward anything that hinted at the outside world. His hands clutched a book to his chest like it was the most precious treasure he owned.
Beside me, Mikasa adjusted her scarf, her gaze sharp as it swept over the landscape. She had changed in these two years. It wasn't just her skill with blades and hand-to-hand training—it was in her bearing. She no longer waited passively for me to take the lead in every small matter. She acted with initiative and even anticipated needs before they arose.
A far cry from the canon version of her who waited for orders.
I tilted my head, studying her for a moment. She noticed, of course, and raised an eyebrow.
"What?" she asked, her voice flat but with the faintest edge of self-awareness.
"Nothing," I replied, lips quirking. "Just thinking how scary you've become."
Yes, she had become pretty scary, not in appearance ofcourse.
I had given her a custom system two years ago. Her system allowed her to increase her stats like strength, agility, stamina, dexterity, intelligence and charm by 1% every time she kills her target(human or titan). Moreover, she could gain a skills by repeating actions like hand to hand combat, bladework, cooking etc and increase proficiency very fast.
She gave me a look that was half disapproval, half something softer. "Scary is useful, isn't it?"
Armin chuckled nervously. "It's true though. Mikasa's sharper than most adults now. Honestly, I'm glad she's on our side."
Mikasa didn't comment, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward.
Yes, I thought, hiding my satisfaction. That's exactly how I want it. The Yukino half of her makes her calculating, sharp. The Mikasa half makes her loyal. A perfect combination.
More importantly I gain exactly same system rewards as her without working just like in Grayfia's case.
Mikasa's POV
The road stretched endlessly ahead, but my attention wasn't on the scenery. I studied Eren. His profile had matured—his jawline sharper, his expressions less boyish than before. Even his eyes were different. He didn't wear his heart on his sleeve anymore, but instead held something unreadable, hidden, deep inside.
At first, I worried about this change. Eren, the boy who once shouted about killing all titans with reckless abandon, had grown quieter, more composed. But no one else seemed to notice anything strange. If anything, they said he was maturing, finally thinking before acting. Armin was relieved.
And me?
I was relieved too. But also… curious. What had shaped him into this new Eren?
Still, even if he changed, my place did not. I would remain by his side, no matter what.
"Armin," I said, breaking the silence, "how many days until we reach the training grounds?"
He looked up from his book, startled at my sudden question. "Two, maybe three if the weather turns bad. I've read the cadet corps starts new recruits in batches, so we might not be the only ones arriving."
I nodded, satisfied. Every piece of information mattered. Every step closer to the Scouts was a step closer to the front lines—and to Eren's dream of freedom. Or perhaps his dream of conquest. Either way, I would follow.
Eren's POV
The afternoon sun was dipping when conversation turned lighthearted again. We were seated under the shade of a tree while the cart driver rested the horses. Armin had broken out the last of the dried fruit he'd packed, passing them around as though they were delicacies.
"So," Armin began, his eyes bright, "we've come so far. It's strange to think it's already been two years. Don't you feel like we've changed?"
Yes we had indeed changed. Unlike in the canon we weren't that weak anymore. Mikasa had started to train with extreme intensity after what happend to her.
Armin was confused and worried about her intensity if training but I reasured him. Infact we both joined her in the training but couldn't really keep up with her.
It was kind of embarrassing.
Mikasa raised an eyebrow. "We've had to."
I popped a piece of fruit into my mouth. "Yeah. Not much choice."
Armin shook his head, smiling. "I mean more than that. Two years ago, we were just kids. Now we're about to enter training to become soldiers. Doesn't that make you think? About what you want from life?"
I leaned back against the tree, letting him talk.
"What about you, Armin? What's your dream?" I asked, genuinely curious how much of his canon personality still shone through.
His face lit up instantly. "To see the world beyond the walls. The oceans, the deserts, the mountains… I want to see all of it with my own eyes."
Predictable, I thought, but I smiled anyway. "Sounds about right for you."
"And you, Eren?"
I pretended to ponder, though the answer was already written in my heart. "Freedom. Whatever form that takes." My eyes narrowed slightly. "To live without being chained by titans or men. To have the power to decide my own future."
Armin nodded solemnly, impressed. Mikasa, however, was watching me too closely, as if weighing the difference in my tone from the boy she remembered.
"And you, Mikasa?" Armin asked suddenly.
She stiffened. For a moment, her face betrayed nothing. Then her eyes softened, as though caught in a memory.
Mikasa's POV
A dream.
The question startled me. For most of my life, my dream had been simple: stay by Eren's side, protect him, live as his family. But Armin's words stirred something else—something warmer, deeper.
In my mind's eye, I saw it.
A wooden house bathed in golden light. Children's laughter in the yard. Eren sitting at the table, smiling as he reached across to touch my hand. A white dress, vows whispered, his lips brushing against mine.
The image burned bright and vivid, so real I almost gasped.
My cheeks grew hot. I pressed the scarf tighter around my face, hoping the two boys wouldn't notice. But Armin tilted his head, confused, while Eren arched an eyebrow.
"Well?" Armin pressed, curious. "What's your dream, Mikasa?"
"…To stay with family," I said quickly, forcing the words out. "That's all."
Eren smirked faintly, as though he saw through me. My blush deepened.
Eren's POV
Her hesitation didn't escape me. Nor did the pink on her cheeks. I almost laughed. So she's already imagining it, huh? How cute.
Armin, oblivious as always, accepted her vague answer and launched into another tangent about the sea. But I filed away the knowledge. Mikasa's devotion was more than loyalty—it was personal, emotional. A lever I could pull, if I ever needed to.
Still, for now, I let it pass. I didn't need to manipulate her. She was already mine, in all the ways that mattered.
By the third morning, the massive gates of the training camp came into view. Hundreds of youths converged from all directions, carrying bags, dressed in patched-up clothes, their faces a mixture of determination and fear. Some joked loudly with friends, others walked silently, clutching keepsakes from home.
I stood at the edge of the crowd, Mikasa and Armin beside me, and studied them.
So many of them. So much raw potential, unpolished, untapped. And yet, I knew the truth. In just a few years, the majority of these faces would be gone—devoured by titans, crushed by despair, erased by the cruelty of this world.
I exhaled slowly, my lips curving in a thin smile.
What a shame. But every death, every sacrifice, will be a stepping stone. My empire will not be built on dreams and sentiment. It will be built on reality.