My father often told me that I shouldn’t be here.
I can still remember the look of disappointment on his face when he realized what I had been striving so hard to achieve. As someone who served in the military, my father knew the hell that followed where war was concerned. A nation like Marley was one that thrived during battles. Conquest was something that was always on their mind. Defending and capturing territories was hardly anyone’s idea of child’s play, but for Marley, having monstrous weapons in the form of Titans, it might as well be the case.
He knew the perils of being a soldier. He knew the hardships and the trauma that came with it. Most of the time, he believed that these were things that I took lightly. After all, what did I know? I was just a girl who wanted to follow a dream that seemed too far-fetched to even… well… dream about.
It’s not as if I was following in my father’s footsteps, and it’s not as if I truly wanted to be a soldier in the first place. Perhaps if I’ve never happened upon that one boy from years ago, I’d never find myself here. In fact, now that I think about it, there were so many paths that I could have taken if all I wanted was to help people.
For one, there’s always a shortage of doctors in this place. When I say this place, what I meant is the Internment Zone. The “pure bred” people of this nation considered the inhabitants of the Internment Zone menaces. They were treated so poorly, as if they were plague incarnate. Shunned upon by society, these people— the Eldians, were nothing more than swine to many. Monsters and devils is what the people of Marley would call them… something that I never really understood. In fact, they looked pretty normal to me. Without the armband that they were forced to wear as a form of label, I feel like no one would have been able to tell the difference.
They were good people in my opinion, but one person’s thoughts and views hardly mattered in a society that was teeming with both fear and disdain.
When I think about what my own people do to these poor men and women, I begin to wonder just who the real monsters truly were.
Marleyans treat the Eldians like cattle… no, even worse than that. At least cattle were desired by most for their meat; prized for the sustenance that they can provide to the body. The Eldians… despite their use in terms of protecting a nation that would readily spit at them and leave them for dead, were used as weapons and were expected to die for the nation’s cause… the very nation that would abandon them given the chance.
Despite their hate and their fear, they needed these people to fight their wars. Eldian children were trained and conditioned to inherit specialized titans in order to bring Marley victory. The chosen would be elevated to the status of Honorary Marleyan, a title only in name… the treatment, however? Still the same. Those who were found with crimes were sentenced to a fate worse than death… forced to become monsters that they didn’t even want to be in the first place. Others, of course, were conscripted for the part in hopes of better treatments… and where does that lead them? An untimely demise if one was luck, or a lifetime of trauma if anyone survived to live another day.
It was tough being an Eldian in the nation of Marley… you were less than the dirt that everyone walked upon.
It’s disgusting… this place… the people…
Everyone here were monsters; some worse than the rest.
I’m one of them, apparently. I’m not going to think of myself like I’m some kind of saint… after all, I’m in charge of training the children that would become the next generation titan shifters. I’m no better than anyone even if I want to be. But still, at the very least, I can do something to help them out. I want to understand the people who mine, considered evil.
And honestly… they were hardly the offspring of the devil. They were no different from the children that played along the streets of Marley’s capital… Well, I hope that at least, others saw it that way too.
But of course they didn’t.
The military only saw these children as weapons, expendable resources that needed to be replenished after a certain amount of time.
I feel like a monster… and since I’m helping mold them to be weapons, I probably am one as well. But at the very least, if they were considered devils, then I should be too…
…because deep down inside, we’re all the same… aren’t we?
If my father could see me now, I hope that he’ll be proud of the monster that I’ve become.
