Eren's boots crunched against the fractured ground as he walked beside Jace, the weight of revelation still heavy in his mind. The Crucible wasn't just a battlefield—it was a prison built from the ruins of lost worlds, a cycle that had claimed them time and time again. But something in his gut told him this time could be different.
It had to be.
"Jace, what if we could destroy this?" Eren asked, breaking the silence.
Jace turned his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Destroy what?"
"The Crucible. The cycle. All of it." Eren's voice carried a certainty that even surprised himself. "We're not just fighting to survive this time. We're remembering things we were never supposed to. That has to mean something."
Jace scoffed. "And how exactly do you plan to break something that's been running for centuries? The gods built this to last."
"But they're dying." Eren's eyes narrowed. "They're weaker than they've ever been. The fractures in this world prove that their hold is slipping. If we can find a way to sever their influence completely—"
Jace let out a short laugh, though there was no amusement in it. "And what? Tear the whole thing down? What happens to us if we do? If this place collapses, where do we go?"
Eren was silent for a moment, then asked, "Where did we come from?"
Jace blinked, his expression unreadable. "What?"
"Before the Crucible. Before all of this." Eren gestured to the shattered land around them. "Do you remember? Do you know where you were born? What your home was like?"
Jace's smirk faltered, and for the first time, he hesitated. "...No."
Eren clenched his fists. "Neither do I. And that's not normal. Everyone has a past. But we don't. The Crucible took it from us. Or maybe we never had one to begin with."
Jace exhaled through his nose, looking away. "If we really were part of this cycle before, then maybe we weren't just fighters pulled into the Crucible. Maybe we were… made for it."
"That's exactly why we need to break it." Eren's voice was firm. "If we don't even know where we came from, how do we know if we ever had a choice?"
Jace was quiet, his jaw tightening. The thought unsettled him more than he cared to admit.
After a moment, Eren changed course. "What about our abilities? You ever wondered why we have the powers we do?"
Jace shrugged, but his expression was thoughtful. "Probably the same reason everyone else does. The Crucible picks its fighters for their strengths."
"No, I mean—have you ever questioned if these powers were really ours to begin with? Or were they given to us?" Eren's eyes darkened. "You and I… our abilities aren't just strong. They're tied to the flow of time, memory, existence itself. That's not normal, Jace. That's something more."
Jace finally met his gaze. "You think the gods gave us these powers?"
"Or they're trying to take them back," Eren murmured.
A heavy silence fell between them.
And then, beneath the cracked earth, something pulsed.
A slow, rhythmic thrum, like a dying heartbeat. The very air thickened, charged with something unseen but undeniable. Eren and Jace tensed as the golden cracks along the shattered land pulsed with an eerie glow—faint, but growing.
Jace exhaled. "Something's coming."
Eren didn't answer, but deep down, he already knew.
Something was waking up.
And it wasn't human.