Shiganshina was a slaughterhouse. Steven's sneakers slammed against uneven cobblestones, his chest tight as he tore through alleys thick with dust and shrieks.
The Colossal Titan's kick had obliterated the outer gate minutes ago, unleashing a swarm of Titans—grinning, shambling horrors that scooped up anyone too slow to bolt.
Blood and soot choked the air. Every step felt like a dice roll with his life.
[Time Remaining: 18:55]
The system's timer glowed in his vision. He hurdled a splintered cart, scraping his shin raw, and growled, "Keep going, don't stop."
Behind him, screams tangled with the sickening snap of bones. He didn't dare look. The alley veered, dumping him onto a broader street packed with fleeing bodies—vendors ditching wares, parents dragging kids, all surging toward the inner gate. The canal shimmered closer, maybe 800 yards out, but the crowd was a tangle, slowing his stride.
[Time Remaining: 15:22]
He shoved forward, elbows sharp, sidestepping a man sprawled in the dirt. A block away, a 12-meter Titan loomed—bulbous, its smile hollow as it snatched a wailing woman. Steven's stomach twisted, and he veered into another alley, ribs aching, a stitch knifing his side. Stopping wasn't an option. Sixty-two percent survival odds? Starting to feel like a lie.
The alley tightened, walls brushing his shoulders. He stumbled over a crate, catching himself on jagged stone, and glanced back. Clear—for now. The canal was 400 yards off, boats faintly visible through the smog, docks swarming. He could do this.
[Time Remaining: 08:17]
He burst onto a side street, nearly crashing into three kids frozen amid the chaos. A boy with wild brown hair shouted, fists clenched. A smaller blond kid clung to him, face wet with tears. The girl—scarf loose, eyes hard—stared at a 10-meter Titan lumbering their way, its grin splitting its face like cracked porcelain.
"Run!" Steven yelled.
The boy's head snapped toward him, eyes blazing, but the girl moved first, yanking both kids toward an alley.
The Titan's hand crashed down, pulverizing the street they'd left, and Steven's pulse spiked.
He fumbled the pistol from his backpack, hands unsteady, and fired a shot into the air. The *crack* split the chaos, useless but enough—the Titan's gaze swung to him, giving the kids a heartbeat to vanish.
The girl's eyes caught his as she pulled the boys away, a flicker of something—maybe thanks, maybe just acknowledgment.
[Time Remaining: 05:43]
"Idiot," he hissed at himself, sprinting the opposite way. The Titan's steps shook the earth, locked on him now.
He dove through a doorway, its fingers raking the wall above, dust raining down. His lungs screamed, but he wove through debris, dodging shattered beams.
The canal was close—200 yards, maybe less. Boats rocked in the water, soldiers barking orders to board.
[Time Remaining: 02:11]
The docks swarmed with shoving, weeping survivors. Steven's legs wobbled, blood seeping from a gash on his side, soaking his shirt.
He pushed through, pain flaring, the timer burning red. A soldier shouted, waving at a boat about to cast off. Almost there—
A thunderous *BOOM* tore through the air, dwarfing the chaos. The ground lurched, dropping Steven to his knees.
Screams spiked. He twisted, dread sinking like lead. The Armored Titan stood where the inner gate had been, its plated bulk steaming, the wall now rubble.
"No, no, shit," Steven gasped, scrambling up. The crowd surged, frantic as the new breach hit. A 7-meter Titan barreled toward the docks, snatching a man steps away, his cry cut short. Boats were pulling out, oars churning, but one stayed, gangway swaying.
[Time Remaining: 01:03]
He staggered forward, shoving past a woman frozen in fear. His side screamed, blood slick, but the timer didn't care. Fifty yards. Forty. A Titan's hand swiped, grazing him, and he ducked, nearly spilling onto the stones. The gangway was there—wooden, creaking, his shot.
[Time Remaining: 00:19]
"Move!" a soldier roared, yanking Steven aboard. He collapsed against the rail, gasping, as the boat jerked free, Titans wading into the canal behind.
Their hands raked the docks, water thrashing, but the boat slipped away. Steven gripped his side, blood under his nails, staring at the timer.
Titans loomed onshore, their warped grins fading into the haze, too far to grab him now.
Someone moved behind him. He tensed, expecting a soldier's bark. Instead, it was the girl—scarf loose, dark hair framing a face too steady for the nightmare they'd fled.
"You," she said, voice low, standing firm despite the boat's pitch. "That sound you made—it drew the Titan. We escaped because of it."
Steven blinked, adrenaline muddling his head. "Uh, yeah." He managed a shaky grin. *Mikasa?*
She nodded, eyes flicking to the blood staining his shirt, then back up. "You're hurt," she said, flat but certain. Something like respect flickered in her gaze, for someone who'd moved when it mattered.
"They're safe," she added, softer, hesitating. "I owe—"
[Time Remaining: 00:03]
"No, wait—" he muttered, panic flaring as her face blurred. She frowned, reaching out, sensing the shift, but her hand passed through nothing.
"My thanks—" her voice faded, thin as smoke.
[Task Completed: Survive the Breach]
The world snapped. Shiganshina's screams, Titans, the rocking boat—gone. Steven was back on Maria's couch, sprawled, the dim lamp casting shadows. His backpack lay ripped at his feet, the gash on his side leaking, staining the cushions red. His chest heaved, hands trembling like he'd sprinted through hell.