[ENTRY 1: DAY AFTER THE FALL — SHIGANSHINA REFUGEES ARRIVE]
The gates didn't just break. They burned.
I was stationed at a Garrison checkpoint outside Wall Rose when the refugees started pouring in. Thousands of them. Covered in dust. Carrying children. Dragging the wounded. Eyes empty.
They came from Shiganshina. The outer district. The Colossal Titan appeared—taller than the Wall itself—kicked a hole through everything we thought was safe. Then the Armored Titan smashed through the inner gate.
Three walls. We had three walls.
Now we have two.
I helped process refugees all night. Handed out blankets. Took names of the dead. A old man kept asking me where his wife was. I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd seen her—what was left of her—back at the gate.
A boy came through. Dark hair. Green eyes. Carried by a soldier named Hannes. The boy wasn't crying. Just staring. Like he'd left his soul back in the rubble.
"His mother," Hannes told me quietly. "Got eaten right in front of him. I couldn't—I had to choose. Save the kids or fight. I chose the kids."
He looked sick about it.
I gave the boy some bread. He didn't eat it. Just held it.
Didn't even tell me his name.