The first thing Daniel Cross learned about being a fifteen-meter Titan was that having enormous muscles did absolutely nothing to improve his decision-making.
The second thing he learned was that running through an underground tunnel designed for humans was a terrible idea.
The third was that the universe had a particularly cruel sense of humor.
Because something behind him had just bitten a chunk out of his left calf.
“OH, COME ON!”
His roar shook dust from the ceiling.
Daniel stumbled forward, smashing one shoulder against the tunnel wall. Stone cracked. His massive hand scraped along the opposite side, sending sparks of pain through his already overworked nerves.
Behind him, the creature from the chamber crawled through the darkness.
It wasn't running.
It didn't need to.
Its elongated limbs moved with a horrible, insect-like rhythm, each movement carrying it several meters closer. Its head tilted as it pursued him, almost curious, as if it were studying an animal that had unexpectedly escaped its cage.
And behind it—
Twelve more shapes poured out of the chamber.
Some walked on two legs. Others crawled on all fours. One moved along the ceiling, its fingers digging into the stone like hooks.
All twelve had the same pale skin and those terrible, faintly glowing eyes.
Daniel didn't know what they were.
He didn't know why the first one recognized him.
And he really didn't want to find out why it had mentioned someone who supposedly made him.
Right now, he had a more immediate problem.
His leg was regenerating too slowly.
[WARNING: Severe structural damage detected.]
[Titan body stability: 61%.]
[Predatory Adaptation activated.]
[Threat assessment: Multiple hostile organisms.]
[Searching for viable survival response...]
“Find me a response that involves a locked door and a long vacation!”
[Request rejected.]
“Of course it is!”
Daniel swung his left arm backward.
His fist connected with the pursuing creature's face.
The impact drove it into the wall hard enough to shatter stone. For half a second, Daniel felt the satisfaction of landing a clean hit.
Then the creature's head turned back toward him.
Its jaw opened.
A wet crack ran down its face as the damaged flesh rearranged itself.
Daniel stared.
“Oh, you're one of those.”
The creature lunged.
He ducked beneath its claws and drove his shoulder into its chest. They crashed through a narrow archway into a side passage, the smaller creature pinwheeling through the air before slamming against the floor.
Daniel didn't stop to admire his work.
He kept running.
The twelve behind him had entered the main tunnel.
The sound of their pursuit grew into a steady thunder of scraping nails, snapping stone, and wet breathing.
Daniel's Titan body was too large for the passage. Every turn cost him precious seconds. He could feel the transformation consuming whatever energy remained inside him, and the strange adaptation that had saved him from the first creature was already fading.
His body had changed once during the fight.
The skin around his damaged calf had hardened into overlapping, dark plates, creating a crude defensive shell that prevented another bite from tearing through the muscle.
It was useful.
It was also ugly enough to make him wonder whether his Titan form was slowly turning into a biological junk drawer.
[Predatory Adaptation: Temporary keratinized armor generated.]
[Estimated durability: Moderate.]
[Duration: Uncertain.]
“Uncertain? That's a fancy way of saying you have no idea!”
The system offered no response.
Daniel hated how quickly he was getting used to arguing with it.
He reached the end of the passage and found a collapsed section of tunnel. Huge blocks of stone lay piled across the route, leaving a narrow opening near the floor.
Too small.
Even if he squeezed through, his Titan body would never fit.
Behind him, the creatures rounded the corner.
Daniel looked at the rubble.
Then at the creatures.
Then back at the rubble.
“Fine.”
He planted both feet and drove his fists into the blockage.
The first strike sent a tremor through the tunnel.
The second cracked a boulder in half.
The third brought part of the ceiling down.
Daniel threw himself sideways as a wave of debris crashed across the passage. One of the pursuing creatures disappeared beneath the falling stone. Another shrieked when a slab crushed its arm.
For one beautiful moment, the tunnel went quiet.
Daniel stood amid the dust, chest heaving.
“See?” he muttered. “Problem-solving.”
Something beneath the rubble laughed.
Not a human laugh.
A wet, broken sound that seemed to come from too many throats at once.
Daniel slowly lowered his fists.
“Oh, that's not fair.”
The rubble shifted.
He ran.
The tunnel descended before it turned sharply to the right.
Daniel nearly missed the turn. His foot struck a raised section of stone, and his enormous body crashed into the wall.
Pain exploded through his shoulder.
A deep fracture spread across the Titan's collarbone.
[Titan body stability: 43%.]
[Warning: Transformation collapse imminent.]
“No. Absolutely not.”
His body had other plans.
Steam began rising from his shoulders.
The hardened armor around his calf peeled away in strips of glowing flesh. His fingers twitched uncontrollably, and his vision blurred around the edges.
He could feel the transformation slipping.
Not like falling asleep.
Like being dragged out of his own skin.
The creatures were still behind him.
Daniel forced himself upright and stumbled around the corner.
A dim yellow light flickered ahead.
A lantern.
Beside it stood a boy holding a knife.
Daniel recognized him immediately.
The same boy from the chamber. The one who had watched him transform with an expression that suggested he'd just discovered the world was even worse than he'd thought.
“YOU!”
The boy flinched.
“Me?”
“YES, YOU! THE BOY WITH THE KNIFE!”
The boy glanced at the knife in his hand.
“That's a surprisingly specific description!”
Daniel almost laughed.
Almost.
Then the boy saw what was coming down the tunnel behind him.
His face went pale.
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Daniel growled. “Oh.”
The boy didn't waste another second.
He grabbed a rope hanging beside the wall and yanked it hard.
A rusted metal gate dropped behind them with a deafening crash.
One creature slammed into it immediately.
The bars bent.
The boy stared at the gate.
Then at Daniel.
“Run!”
“I'M TRYING!”
They charged into a narrow passage leading away from the gate. The boy slipped through a gap between two stone pillars, but Daniel's enormous shoulders barely fit.
He had to turn sideways.
His Titan body scraped against both walls, tearing away chunks of flesh and stone.
The gate behind them screamed under the pressure.
“Who designed this place?” Daniel shouted.
The boy was already several meters ahead.
“People who didn't expect a giant to visit!”
“I'm starting to notice!”
Daniel squeezed through the passage just as the gate gave way.
Metal shrieked.
The creatures flooded into the corridor.
The boy seized Daniel's enormous hand and pulled, as if that could somehow help.
“THIS WAY!”
Daniel followed him into a small chamber.
Unlike the others, this room contained no strange equipment, no iron doors, and no symbols carved into the walls. Just an old maintenance platform, a broken ladder, and a large support pillar holding up the ceiling.
Daniel's eyes settled on the pillar.
An idea formed.
It was a terrible idea.
Unfortunately, terrible ideas were becoming something of a specialty.
“Kid!”
The boy looked up.
“My name is Arlen!”
“Great! Arlen! When I say run, you run!”
Arlen glanced at the pillar.
Then at Daniel.
“Why?”
Daniel punched it.
The first strike sent cracks racing up the stone.
The second shattered its base.
Arlen's expression changed.
“Oh, that's why!”
He bolted toward a narrow opening on the opposite side of the chamber.
Daniel struck the pillar a third time.
It broke.
The ceiling groaned.
For one second, nothing happened.
Then the entire chamber began to collapse.
Huge slabs of stone crashed down between Daniel and the pursuing creatures. One of the pale figures darted through the falling debris, its claws reaching for him.
Daniel swung his arm.
The creature vanished beneath a collapsing section of ceiling.
Another leaped onto his back.
Its fingers sank into the flesh between his shoulder blades.
Daniel roared and slammed himself against the wall.
Once.
Twice.
The creature released him on the third impact, tumbling into the rubble.
Then the ceiling came down.
Daniel had just enough time to think, This is going to hurt.
It did.
The darkness was absolute.
For several seconds, Daniel couldn't tell whether he was alive.
He tried to move his right arm.
Nothing happened.
He tried his left.
A sharp burst of pain answered him.
His Titan body lay trapped beneath a mountain of stone, its enormous frame wedged between the remains of the chamber floor and a collapsed support beam.
Dust filled the air.
Somewhere nearby, water dripped steadily.
Daniel attempted to breathe.
His Titan lungs responded with a ragged wheeze.
“System?”
Silence.
“System, if you're waiting for me to die before saying something helpful, I want you to know that's incredibly rude.”
A faint chime rang inside his head.
[Emergency status assessment initiated.]
[Titan body stability: 18%.]
[Critical structural failure detected.]
[Forced reversion beginning.]
Daniel's eyes widened.
“Wait. Wait, no—”
Steam erupted from his body.
The sensation was unbearable. His muscles seemed to dissolve, his bones shrinking and reshaping as the Titan form disintegrated around him.
The rubble shifted.
A slab of stone slid down his back.
Daniel tried to scream, but the sound emerged as a strangled gasp.
Then the transformation ended.
He was human again.
Naked, bleeding, and pinned beneath enough debris to make his future prospects look remarkably short.
Daniel stared into the darkness.
“I'm beginning to think this system has a very loose definition of assistance.”
[Host survival probability: 37%.]
“Thirty-seven?”
[Probability may fluctuate.]
“Wonderful. So there's room for disappointment.”
He tried to move his legs.
His right leg responded.
His left didn't.
Panic crept into his chest.
Daniel forced himself to breathe slowly. The air smelled of dust, wet stone, and something metallic. He could feel blood trickling down his temple.
He needed to get out.
He needed to find Arlen.
And he desperately needed to understand what the hell was happening to him.
A faint blue light appeared in the corner of his vision.
[Emergency survival conditions satisfied.]
[Evolution Point awarded: +1.]
[New function unlocked: Trait Analysis.]
[New function unlocked: Evolution Archive.]
Daniel blinked.
Despite everything, a grin slowly spread across his face.
“One point?”
[Confirmed.]
“One point for nearly dying?”
[Survival under extreme conditions has been recorded.]
Daniel let his head fall back against the stone.
“I'm going to need a better employer.”
He focused on the new functions.
A translucent interface appeared before his eyes.
[TRAIT ANALYSIS]
Allows the host to examine biological characteristics of detected organisms.
[EVOLUTION ARCHIVE]
Stores acquired traits, evolutionary pathways, and compatible biological adaptations.
Daniel read the descriptions twice.
Trait Analysis could help him understand the creatures.
The Evolution Archive might eventually let him choose how his Titan developed instead of relying on whatever survival mechanism the system invented at the worst possible moment.
That was good.
Potentially life-saving, even.
Unfortunately, neither function explained why an underground monster knew his name.
Nor why it had spoken about someone who made him.
Daniel closed the interface.
“First things first. Escape the death trap. Then investigate the nightmare laboratory. Then maybe find a therapist.”
He paused.
“Assuming therapists exist in a world where people turn into man-eating giants.”
A muffled voice came from somewhere beyond the rubble.
“Hello?”
Daniel froze.
“Arlen?”
“Daniel?”
Hearing his own name spoken aloud made his stomach tighten.
He hadn't told the boy his name.
Not that he remembered.
Before he could ask, Arlen called again.
“Are you alive?”
“Define alive!”
There was a pause.
“Breathing?”
“Mostly!”
“Then I have good news!”
Daniel waited.
“What good news?”
“I found a way out!”
Daniel shut his eyes in relief.
“Wonderful. Come get me.”
Another pause.
“There's a small problem.”
Daniel opened his eyes.
“Of course there is.”
“The way out is on the other side of the room.”
“Then come around!”
“I can't!”
“Why?”
“Because the room is full of rubble!”
Daniel stared into the darkness.
“Arlen.”
“Yes?”
“If we survive this, I'm going to have a very serious conversation with you about your definition of good news.”
“I look forward to it!”
The boy's footsteps faded.
Daniel listened until he could no longer hear them.
For the first time since entering the underground facility, he was alone with his thoughts.
And that was almost worse than the monsters.
Arlen returned several minutes later.
He had found a narrow gap beneath a fallen beam and squeezed through it, scraping both elbows and losing one shoe in the process.
He carried the lantern in one hand and a short metal rod in the other.
Daniel regarded him through the gap.
“You look terrible.”
Arlen glanced down at his torn clothes and bleeding hands.
“You look worse.”
“Fair.”
Arlen wedged the metal rod beneath a slab of stone and pushed.
Nothing happened.
He adjusted his grip and tried again.
The slab shifted a fraction.
Daniel sucked in a breath as pressure eased from his ribs.
“Keep going.”
“I'm trying.”
“Try harder.”
Arlen shot him a look.
“You know, for someone trapped under a mountain, you're remarkably irritating.”
“It's a survival skill.”
Arlen grunted and pushed again.
This time the slab moved far enough for Daniel to drag one arm free.
Together, they shifted smaller stones until Daniel could pull himself out.
He collapsed onto his side, coughing dust.
His entire body hurt.
Every breath felt like it had been personally approved by a committee of sadists.
Arlen crouched beside him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then the boy looked at Daniel's human body, the blood on his face, and the remains of the enormous Titan that had disappeared beneath the rubble.
“How did you do that?”
Daniel looked at him.
“Do what?”
“Become that thing.”
Daniel considered lying.
It would have been easier.
But Arlen had watched him transform. He had risked his life to help him escape. Pretending none of it had happened would be insulting to both of them.
“I don't know,” Daniel admitted.
Arlen frowned.
“You don't know?”
“I woke up here. I found out the hard way that I can turn into a Titan. Then I found out that the Titans underground aren't exactly normal.”
Arlen's expression hardened at the word Titans.
“You shouldn't call them that.”
Daniel sat up slowly.
“Why not?”
“Because they aren't Titans.”
The answer came too quickly.
Daniel studied him.
“Then what are they?”
Arlen glanced toward the collapsed passage.
For the first time, the boy looked genuinely afraid.
“I don't know.”
It was the second time he'd said those words.
Daniel recognized the expression now. It was the look of someone who knew enough to be terrified but not enough to understand why.
He knew that look.
He'd worn it himself.
Before Daniel could question him further, a sharp chime rang inside his head.
[Trait Analysis available.]
[Nearby biological signatures detected.]
Daniel focused on the notification.
Three faint outlines appeared in his vision.
Arlen.
A rat hiding between the stones.
And something much larger beyond the collapsed passage.
The outline of the fourth signature flickered.
Then vanished.
[Analysis interrupted.]
[Warning: Unknown organism interference detected.]
Daniel's blood ran cold.
“Arlen.”
The boy looked up.
“What?”
“Tell me you heard that.”
“Heard what?”
A low vibration passed through the floor.
Dust trickled from the ceiling.
Somewhere beyond the rubble, something dragged a heavy object across the stone.
Arlen extinguished the lantern.
Darkness swallowed them.
Daniel slowly reached for the metal rod.
It was a ridiculous weapon for a man who had recently been fifteen meters tall.
He gripped it anyway.
The scraping stopped.
Then came three soft knocks.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
They came from the other side of the collapsed passage.
Arlen's breathing turned shallow.
Daniel leaned closer to the rubble.
A voice drifted through the cracks.
Not the creature's distorted growl.
Not the clicking, wet laughter of the things chasing him.
A human voice.
Calm.
Almost bored.
“Daniel Cross.”
Daniel's fingers tightened around the rod.
The voice continued.
“You've made a mess of things.”
Arlen stared at him in the darkness.
Daniel couldn't speak.
Because the voice sounded familiar.
Not familiar in the way a stranger's voice might resemble someone he'd once known.
Familiar in a much worse way.
It sounded like his own voice.
The scraping resumed.
Something on the other side began moving stones aside, one by one.
Daniel backed away from the passage, pulling Arlen with him.
“Whatever happens,” he whispered, “don't let it touch you.”
Arlen nodded, too frightened to argue.
Daniel's eyes flicked toward the floor.
A pale object lay half buried in the dust beside a broken piece of machinery.
A metal tag.
He picked it up.
The surface was scratched and stained, but the engraving remained clear.
EREN JAEGER.
For several seconds, Daniel forgot about the voice.
Eren Jaeger.
The name belonged to the center of the story he thought he knew. A boy whose life, rage, and choices were supposed to shape the fate of this world.
But why was his identification tag buried in a hidden underground facility?
And why did it look old?
Daniel turned the tag over.
There were markings on the reverse side.
A date.
His stomach dropped.
The date was years earlier than it should have been.
“No,” he whispered.
The system chimed.
[Historical Discrepancy Detected.]
[Known timeline reliability: Compromised.]
[Caution: Prior knowledge may no longer predict future events.]
Daniel stared at the warning.
He had come into this world believing that knowing the story would give him an advantage.
He'd assumed he could avoid the worst mistakes, anticipate major events, and stay one step ahead of the people who would otherwise decide his fate.
But if Eren Jaeger's tag was already here, years before Daniel believed it should exist, then something had changed.
Or perhaps something had always been wrong.
The voice beyond the rubble spoke again.
“Did you find it?”
Daniel looked toward the passage.
The stones shifted.
A thin line of pale light appeared between them.
“Good,” the voice said. “Then we can finally begin.”
The first stone moved.
Then the second.
Daniel tightened his grip on the rod and stepped in front of Arlen.
His body was exhausted. His Titan form was unavailable. He had one evolution point, two newly unlocked functions, and a metal tag that threatened to unravel everything he thought he knew about this world.
For the first time since arriving in the Attack on Titan universe, Daniel understood something with absolute clarity.
He wasn't simply changing the story.
He might have entered it too late.
And whatever was waiting on the other side of that wall had been expecting him long before he arrived.
[END OF CHAPTER 6]