His running wasn't an escape — it felt more like a funeral... delayed.
The alleys he once memorized by heart seemed to swallow his footsteps, twisting the same path, the same scent, the same suffocating darkness, as if the city itself was mocking him.
His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest burned, and his vision blurred into a flickering white fog from exhaustion.
But then — he stopped.
Not because his legs failed, but because the entire world had gone still.
Every sound, every noise the streets usually held... vanished.
Even the air felt stripped of life.
And from behind him... a voice slithered through the silence.
"Don't run, Marked One... it's useless."
Slowly, Eren turned around, standing on trembling legs, facing the same strange man from before. He stood there — silent, soundless, as if death itself had chosen to wear human skin.
The man raised his hand.
A long dagger gleamed in his grasp, its blade etched with the same burning sigil now carved into Eren's chest.
"Being marked means there's no turning back."
The man's voice was as cold as steel.
"Your blood is no longer yours. Your body no longer yours. Everything inside you... now belongs to the Devil."
Eren couldn't speak. The strange feeling that had plagued him since dawn now settled into a grim certainty:
His life had already ended... yet here he stood, breathing.
Then, without warning — his chest ignited!
The scarlet mark flared to life, pulsing as if it had heard the man's words, and raw power surged through his veins, untamed and unfamiliar.
Something inside him awoke.
Something that wasn't human.
His body moved on its own, lunging forward with a speed he never thought possible, narrowly dodging the dagger's swing. He ran once more.
But this time... it wasn't fear.
It was desire — a wild, reckless thirst to stay alive, even for one more minute.
The man didn't chase. He merely stood there, watching Eren vanish into the shadows.
Then, with a voice soft as a whisper, yet sharp enough to split the world, he muttered:
"Hunt him."
And from the darkness, the city truly opened its eyes.
Other voices began to rise, voices that no human throat could make, whispering his name, mixing hunger with twisted delight:
"Eren... Eren... The Marked One... The Marked One..."
That was the first day...
In a game he never chose to play.
But in this world, choice... is just an illusion.