The rain had not stopped.

It had been falling since the night Eren disappeared, as though the heavens themselves were in mourning. For three days, the people of Elwyn Village whispered of omens of flickering lights beyond the trees, of animals abandoning the woods, of the bell tolling on its own.

But none dared to speak of the tower.

On the morning of the fourth day, the storm finally broke, but the silence it left behind was worse.

Lea sat beneath the old tree near the well, clutching a pendant that Eren had once given her  a shard of glass that shimmered like starlight. He said it reminded him of her eyes.

She had laughed at the time. Now, she couldn’t.

Just as she stood, ready to search the forest herself, the village bell rang once again. This time, not a whisper followed. The sound was deeper now, colder.

She turned toward the square.

A crowd had already formed by the time she arrived. All eyes were fixed on the figure walking toward them from the treeline. He was soaked, his dark cloak dragging behind him like a dying shadow. His boots splashed quietly in the puddles, and his face pale, drawn, and marked with exhaustion was unmistakable.

“Eren...”

Lea stepped forward, but froze as his eyes met hers. They weren’t the stormy gray she remembered.

They were darker now. Deeper. Like something else was looking out through them.

He stopped in the center of the square. In his right hand, wrapped tightly in torn cloth, he carried something long too long to be mistaken for anything but a blade. The villagers recoiled, murmuring prayers under their breath.

The cloth was damp, but it did little to contain the pressure that seemed to radiate from it. The air around him warped slightly, like heat shimmer over flame. But this was no fire.

It was cold.

Lea’s heart raced.

“What happened?” she asked, stepping closer.

Eren didn’t answer at first. He looked at the faces around him people who had spent their lives avoiding his gaze, cursing his presence. He didn’t recognize them now. He only saw their fear.

“I found the tower,” he said at last.

The old man from the hills pushed through the crowd, robes flapping like torn sails. His gnarled staff struck the ground.

“You drew it.”

Eren turned slowly toward him. “It called me.”

The man’s face darkened. “The blade was sealed for a reason. You were not meant to touch it.”

“I didn’t choose it,” Eren snapped. “It chose me.”

Lea moved between them. “What are you talking about? What’s in the cloth?”

Eren hesitated. His right hand twitched. A low hum began to echo through the ground not sound exactly, but vibration. It crawled up through their feet, into their bones.

He let the cloth fall.

The sword gleamed like obsidian polished by time. Its edge shimmered unnaturally, not with light, but with the reflection of shadows. Symbols ran along its blade faint, ancient, and still glowing with dark intent. The moment the sword touched open air, the sky groaned.

A child screamed.

People backed away.

Only Lea remained.

She stared at the sword, then at him.

“You said it called to you,” she whispered. “What did it say?”

Eren’s voice dropped to a whisper. “That I was the one. That the world had forgotten too many truths. That a price must be paid.”

“A price?”

His eyes burned as he met hers. “It took something from me. Or someone.”

Her breath caught.

“Lea, do you remember... us?”

She blinked, confused. “What do you mean? Of course I do.”

The old man’s eyes widened.

“No,” Eren said, stepping forward. “Before the tower. The lake. The first time I touched your hand. The garden where you kissed me. Do you remember that?”

She stared at him.

“I’ve never kissed you, Eren.”

The words hit harder than any blade.

He staggered back. The sword in his hand pulsed violently. Wind swirled around him, lifting dead leaves from the stones.

“You see now,” the old man said grimly. “The Black Blade doesn’t take your life. It takes your heart. What you love. And it buries it beneath the world.”

Lea reached for him, but he stepped away.

His voice cracked. “You were the only thing that made this place bearable. And now... you’re gone. But I still see you. I still remember. I won’t let the blade have you.”

“Eren ”

He turned toward the forest.

“I'm going to find you,” he said. “Not this you. The real you. The one the blade took.”

“You can’t fight a curse,” the old man warned. “You can only survive it.”

“Then I’ll do both.”

And with that, Eren disappeared into the trees, the sword Akreth humming at his side, and the shadows stretching long behind him.