Attack on Titans: Titans Edge

Lorien woke with a start, his chest heaving as he pushed the remnants of the nightmare from his mind. The pale light of dawn filtered through the cracks in the barracks window, casting long shadows across the room. It had been two years since the fall of Shiganshina, two years since Carla's death, and the events that still haunted his waking moments.

Yet the memories of that day—the screams, the helplessness—never seemed to fade. His side still ached from where the Titan had flung him aside, the pain a constant reminder of his failure. Despite this, Lorien had long since learned how to bury his emotions, to lock them away, and focus on what mattered: survival.

The cadets around him were beginning to stir. A few mumbled incoherently in their sleep, while others slowly roused themselves, their bodies still heavy from the demands of yesterday's training. Lorien sat still for a moment, listening to the hum of the room as his mind wandered.

It had been two years since the knowledge of the future had slammed into him with a force he couldn't ignore. The story he had once watched unfold was now his reality, and he was a part of it, despite all his attempts to keep a distance. His past life, the life on Earth where he had been a child prodigy in MMA, seemed so distant now. He had been an orphan then, too, but it was a world where he had at least known the rules. In this one, the rules were always changing and always uncertain.

Lorien couldn't help but think back to those first days in this new world. His mind had barely processed the shift from Earth to the world of Titans, and the sudden understanding that he was trapped in a brutal story he knew all too well. He had felt lost, and alone, but the one thing that kept him grounded was his newfound family—Mikasa, Eren, and the Yeagers.

But even as the Yeagers took him in, there was a part of Lorien that remained withdrawn, a part that recoiled from the bonds of family. He remembered his real parents—their faces, their voices, their lives stolen away. He didn't like to think about it. The pain, and the memory of their deaths, haunted him when he let his guard down. So, he chose not to remember them—at least, not consciously. His body carried the trauma, but he would not let it define him.

Lorien stood, stretching his limbs to shake off the tension. The nightmares were becoming more frequent, but he didn't let them control him. He was used to enduring hardship, used to pushing forward, no matter how much it hurt.

The sounds of his fellow cadets preparing for the day began to fill the air. Lorien donned his uniform quickly, keeping his movements efficient. As he adjusted his boots, the door creaked open.

"Lorien?"

He turned to see Armin approaching, his usual earnest expression lighting up when he saw Lorien awake.

"Morning," Lorien responded, his voice steady.

Armin grinned sheepishly. "You're up early as usual. Nervous about today?"

"No." The word came out quietly but firmly. There was no need to be nervous. Training was a routine, a means to an end.

As they walked out into the cool morning air, Lorien couldn't help but notice how things had changed since they'd first arrived at the 104th Training Corps. Back then, everything had felt like a blur—a storm of faces, of names, of expectations. Now, it was all too familiar.

He glanced around at the other cadets—Jean Kirstein, Sasha Braus, Connie Springer—each one was settling into their respective places, awaiting the start of another grueling day of training. Lorien didn't take much notice of them. He had his own focus, his own drive. The threat of Titans always loomed, but Lorien didn't need to be reminded.

As the cadets began to gather, Lorien's eyes found Mikasa. She was already in position, her expression calm and composed, the same way she had always been. Mikasa had been a steady presence in his life, but Lorien couldn't help but feel a growing sense of conflict when it came to her. She had adopted a fierce loyalty to Eren, which, while admirable, often clouded her judgment. Mikasa cared deeply, but Lorien knew the truth—Eren's reckless nature would eventually lead them down dangerous paths.

Eren's voice broke his thoughts. "You all think the wall's going to protect us forever?" Eren's tone was brash, his words filled with the fire of his endless frustration.

Lorien gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head. "And you think charging at Titans headfirst is the solution?"

Eren shot him a glare, but Mikasa stepped in, her calm demeanor once again the bridge between them. "Lorien, Eren. Not here. Not now."

Lorien said nothing, simply falling into line as they all marched toward the training grounds. His rivalry with Eren was well known, but it wasn't one built on hatred. Lorien was grateful for whatever the Yeagers and Eren had done for him and Mikasa but it was also true that Eren was reckless, a man driven by impulses rather than thought. Eren, on the other hand, often found Lorien's composed nature frustrating—almost condescending.

The day's training began with a sharp whistle from Instructor Keith Shadis. His gruff voice cut through the chatter.

"Fall in!"

The cadets scrambled to form ranks, and Lorien took his place near Mikasa. He felt the familiar weight of the uniform against his chest, the quiet anticipation building in his body. Every training session was a chance to prove himself, to refine his skills. But it was also a reminder of the brutal truth: the Titans were coming.

"Today's focus is on hand-to-hand combat," Shadis announced. His voice was stern, commanding attention. "Pair up and get ready to demonstrate your skills."

Lorien scanned the field, his eyes briefly meeting Reiner's before turning to the cadets nearest to him.

"Armin, you're with me." Lorien's voice was calm, his tone leaving no room for argument. Armin gave him a quick nod, and the two stepped forward, ready to face the next challenge.

The pairings were swift, and soon the training began in earnest. Lorien's movements were precise and fluid—his years of training in MMA translating into something lethal and controlled. Armin struggled to keep up, but Lorien was patient, guiding him through the drills without putting undue pressure on him.

Later, the sparring began. Lorien's match with Reiner was over in a matter of seconds, his quick reflexes and efficient strikes too much for the larger cadet to handle. Reiner grinned after the loss, brushing himself off.

"You're quick," Reiner said, clearly impressed. "But don't think you've seen the last of me."

Lorien didn't respond. He didn't need to. His focus was on something else, on the looming threat that none of them could escape.

As the sun rose higher, Lorien couldn't shake the feeling of unease. The world outside the walls felt more dangerous than ever, and despite everything, Lorien knew the story he'd watched on Earth was far from over. It was just beginning—and he would play a part in it, whether he wanted to or not.