He snarls as the cruel human leader presses something through the skin of his shoulder for the third time. The human seems frustrated that his flesh has decided to regenerate more quickly today, as it seems to be interfering with the human's experiment. It 's not as though he 's doing it on purpose, of course 'unlike the Female he hasn 't mastered the ability to command his own regeneration 'but even if he could communicate with the human, he wouldn 't tell it that it 's because the sun is so bright today.

It streams through the openings in the large warehouse that he has been chained in for what seems like forever, slicing through the air and cutting sharp shadows into the red brick walls. He sighs at the feeling of it on his face, warm and invigorating. His stomach has long since given up the idea that it will ever hold a meal again, and he can no longer feel it clenching and wailing as it steps aside to allow nourishment from the sun to take its place.

In the beginning 'even before the two new ones came 'the cruel one had fed him dead humans. They tasted wrong and different every time, and some made his stomach hurt. He soon realized that the human had been adding things to the flesh before feeding him. By the time he 'd noticed what was happening, however, the human had seemed to have tired of that activity, and had gone on to different studies. Now, years later, he can 't even remember what food tastes like. However, the undeniable scent of

human

all around him is a constant reminder of the feeling.

When the human removes whatever implement it had decided on this time from the meat of his shoulder, he expects it to be shoved back in like it had been earlier. Instead, he feels a soft twinge of pain at the back of his neck, and his whole body stiffens. His weak spot. His instincts scream at him to thrash in his binds and dislodge the danger, but he furiously quells it.

To move a single inch could be the death of him.

Every new twinge of pain sends a cold wave of dread slithering down his spine, and he grits his teeth in frustration.

The pain stops for a while, and he knows from past experience that the human is simply poking around inside of whatever opening it made, and pressing a small stick against a thin slat of wood. He doesn 't ever expect to understand the motivations that drive the irksome little pest to do what it does.

Then the pain returns, and he can 't help the tremors that wrack his body now as the human delves deeper and deeper into his nape. It

hurts.

Soon it becomes impossible to sit still, and he thrashes once, twice, ruining the careful precision that had been guiding the instrument. Through his frenzy, he feels the blade slice deep into his weak spot and

carve

sideways, gutting his nape open. He hears a shout from the human and he thinks the blade is pulled out, because he hears it clatter against the metal table.

Out of his periphery, he sees the two subordinate humans come running into view, but his vision is flickering with black spots, and his body jerks in its binds with cadaveric spasms as a strange feeling of numbness engulfs his senses.

The realization hits him hard. He 's 'dying. It was bound to happen sometime, but to be felled by a human wielding nothing but a knife and a wooden slat was so '

disappointing

.

He had always hoped he 'd die by the sea. It was sentimental, but the beautiful, glimmering waves and crisp scent had always enraptured him. He guesses it just 'wasn 't meant to be.

His vision begins to turn, the lights above him becoming impossibly bright ' almost otherworldly ' while everything around them plummets into darkness, sounds begin to muffle and the scents around him dim. His eyes stretch wide despite how blinding the lights have become and he struggles to close them, just barely succeeding.

His nape throbs, pulsing with a strange itching sensation as he feels himself slip away from his own body '

And crash to the ground with fire pulsing through his veins.

He hears himself scream, and his throat feels 'odd. His whole

body

feels odd. There are

sensations

he doesn 't know how to interpret, his mind overwhelmed with the information flooding in from his body as he flails about, limbs somehow free from their shackles after

years

of being bound in the same position.

The faces of the humans appear above him, seeming impossibly large.

He screams again at the burning searing over his skin, the same odd feeling shaking through his throat, and the confusing feeling pressing into his body as the humans grab ahold of him, hands even bigger than his own somehow.

While he 's still overwhelmed by the influx of new information, the humans move him, hefting him like he weighs nothing, and at the new change in direction, he can see 'himself. His massive body hangs limp, slumped over in its chains as ash falls from steaming, disintegrating flesh.

The sight makes him freeze, and he doesn 't fight back as the humans move him. He 's lost in his own mind, coming up with countless questions that he doesn 't know how to answer.

They put him somewhere 'cold. The sensation is foreign to him, but some part of him 'some part buried in instinct 'recognizes what it is.

He doesn 't like it.

The sun doesn 't reach here. There are no openings in the walls to let in the life-giving light, and he cries out in despair at the realization.

When he had gotten over the initial shock and sensory overload, he had attempted to leave through the large open side of the room, only to discover that the entire wall was made out of some strange, transparent material. It reminds him of a sheet of ice, but he 's never seen ice in such large amounts this far away from the fields of snow. That same, quiet voice of raw instinct whispers that it 's too warm be ice. He vaguely recognizes the material from the abandoned, derelict human cities that littered the world, but he 'd never seen any that were so clear before.

He spends a long time running his hands over it and marveling at the texture of it under his palms. He does the same to the floor and the walls and his own skin and his hair 'had anything else been in his new prison, he would have run his hands along it as well to explore his new sensations.

The rest of his time is spent either pacing or sleeping. The lack of sunlight makes him drowsy, as if he 's been stuck in a perpetual night, and he spends more time sleeping than he ever has before.

The humans flutter around outside, and he can see them through the clear wall. He likes to think that they 're as confused about his situation as he is. Maybe they will actually help him this time.

They put a dead human in his new cage.

It had a faint tantalizing scent of human, but that was mostly diminished by the smell of sickness and decay. This human had been dead for too long to trigger the primal urge to devour it, and so he had kept his distance from it just in case the cruel one had poisoned the flesh again.

That was days ago.

His body feels weak. The absence of sunlight is draining him of all of his energy, and he can barely bring himself to move.

He's slowly starving. His stomach has woken up from its dormant state, and it woke up angry. His hunger is vicious, as if he swallowed a creature that is ferociously trying to claw its way out.

He looks to the human corpse. The stench has turned even more over the few days it's been sitting there, and he knows nothing good will come of it. Even if it isn't poisoned, he won 't be able to digest it. It would just come back up in preservative slime for a female to find.

But it would quiet the pains in his stomach for a little while at least.

He crawls to the offering, limbs shaking from exhaustion. Through the window, he can see figures scrambling suddenly. He doesn't have to look to know that they 're pressing their sticks to their wooden slats. They love to do that whenever he does anything, no matter how uninteresting.

With trembling hands he begins tearing off morsels and shoving them in his mouth, trying not to let the decaying flesh touch his tongue.

When his stomach has stopped its distraught clenching, he wipes his wet hands on the outfit they had dressed him in and crawls back to his corner, content to enjoy the respite for as long as it lasts.

It can't be more than an hour later that he's heaving the human bits back up in the middle of the floor. He'd tried to make it to the other corner at least, but he hadn't had the strength or speed necessary to do so. His body tremors as he retches.

The humans are fluttering about in his periphery again.

The pain comes back steadily, but he's distracted from that by the overwhelming wave of sickness that comes from being so close to his pellet. The scent is cloying and nauseating and makes him want to run in the opposite direction as quickly as possible. Male Titans were naturally repelled for miles by the pellets, and he's trapped in a small room with one.

His head spins with the force of everything. The last thing he remembers before the hunger and exhaustion catch up with him, is pressing himself as far from the offending stench as possible.

When he wakes from his unconscious state, the pellet has been removed. They hadn't been able to completely clean out the stench, but it 's noticeably different.

He looks to where the dead human had lain, and notices that it has been exchanged with a new one. The stale scent of decay is similar, but this one doesn't have the sour smell of sickness accompanying it, so at least there's that. It still isn't helpful for solving the issue of his hunger, though.

The rest of the day goes by without much happening, but for a while he manages to catch one of the humans ' gaze. It's the biggest of the leader's two subordinates, and the human looks wary as it stares back.

After a long, indeterminate length of time 'all lengths of time are indeterminate in this wretched place 'during which the human has grown steadily more uncomfortable-looking, the other, smaller human walks into his line of sight. Their impromptu staring match is over as the two begin communicating to one another. The big human jerks its chin at him after a few moments, and the other follows its gesture, startling a bit at his glare.

He can see the shudder roll through the smaller one's body before it turns away, and feels a glimmer of predatory satisfaction. He may be caged, weak from hunger, and at the mercy of creatures much smaller and less powerful than him at the moment, but the humans still recognize him as a threat. It's enough to make him preen.

The slighter human hands the larger one something and makes its quiet little human vocalizations for a bit. He's just about to set his head down to rest, uninterested in human interactions, when he sees the large human bring the object to its mouth. Saliva leaks out from under his tongue as he watches the human

bite

and

chew

. Adrenaline is probably to blame for the fact that he has no recollection of crossing the small room, but in a split second, he's slamming into the transparent material that makes up the face of his cell, causing the humans jerk violently and whirl around.

They stare at him in unmasked fear and confusion, hands firmly settled at the weapons at their hips as he slides down the wall in exhaustion.

Clouds of white blur his vision as his breath fogs on the warm-ice wall, and his palms press firmly against the hard smoothness of his prison. His gaze locks firmly on the object that had previously resided in the human's hands 'now laying abandoned on the table 'and his ears burn with the meek crooning that escapes him.

The smaller one is shouting, but he pays it no mind. He doesn't know what humans eat, but it most likely isn't other humans and that's good enough to fill his belly. The large one feels around for something on the table, never breaking eye-contact with him. When the human finds what it was looking for 'a wooden slat and a stick; he should have known 'it steps forward. The small one protests, grabbing hold of the folds of cloth that humans wrap themselves in, and attempting to pull it away from him.

The large human brushes off its companion's concern and comes closer, pressing its stick against the slat as it crouches down to meet his eye level. It taps softly on the warm-ice wall (as if it didn't already have his attention) and tilts its head curiously.

This time, he is the one to break their stare first, glancing at the object behind the human 'abandoned on the table 'removing one hand from where it was pressed against the transparent wall to paw at his mouth. He whines again, and he sees the human's eyes widen a fraction, brow furrowing.

The human points at the carcass in his cell with its stick, tapping the wall again for good measure.

It doesn't understand. How can he make it understand? He wracks his brain for some way to make it understand, when a memory whispers against his mind.

The leader was removing his toes. (Pain! Why?) It barks unidentifiable sounds at the new subordinates, hand outstretched. The smallest one hesitates, picking up one of the instruments laid out on the table beside it. The cruel one shakes its head side to side, growling out more human sounds. The small human picks up another twisted metal thing 'another side to side shake. Another tool, the human is shaking now. This time the leader jerks it head up and down, and the implement is brought to its hand. The leader uses it to peel his skin. (No! Stop!)

The memory fades with a shudder.

He doesn't know exactly what the gestures mean, but he hopes he can use them. The first one 'side to side '

'I don't want this?'

or maybe

'This is the wrong one?'

It doesn't matter. Either will work.

He looks into the human's eyes, catching its attention, and oscillates his head back and forth.

It had taken almost a week for the Titan....thing....to crawl to the corpse they'd placed in the cell and begin feeding. They'd all been a bit shocked that it hadn't happened earlier 'Pierre especially. He'd never seen a Titan

not

eat a human if possible. He wondered if it had something to do with the strange form it had taken.

It hadn't taken long before the human-like captive had retched up a Titan pellet in the middle of the room. Dr. Grisha had been pleased, as the waiting had made him impatient and irritated, and had ordered them to collect it for testing as soon as possible, but not before noting the odd behavior of the Titan. It had clambered as far from the sticky mess as possible, feet scrambling against the floor as if to press itself

through

the wall to get away from the refuse.

Pierre had gotten Anabelle's attention, gesturing to the corpse in the Titan's cage and sticking his hands out 'one palm up, the other down 'and flipping them over before pressing one middle finger to his head and the other to his abdomen.

'He died from sickness.'

The hand-signs said. She'd nodded. "Dr. Grisha, sir," she'd asked softly, "We were wondering if maybe the reason it didn't want to eat was because that man had died of an illness. Do you...want us to explore that further?"

Sharp eyes narrowing had been their only answer for too long while he and Annabelle held their breath. Finally, the doctor nodded, a brisk "Do what you will." thrown over his retreating shoulder, and the room suddenly had an extra two lungfuls of breath dispersed within it.

It had taken a chillingly short amount of time for their request of an illness-free corpse to be granted, and a victim of a cave-in shipped to the doctor's above-ground office.

For a city named after a mountain, a surprising amount of it was actually buried beneath the earth in anthill-like tunnels. Only the crop fields, the coal plants, and the massive research centers were left un-submerged 'the fields and plants for obvious reasons, and Dr. Grisha's domain for the safety of the citizens below. It wouldn't do for an accident to take place that led to a Titan running loose in the tunnels, causing cave-ins and terrorizing trapped citizens.

Movement from the Titan cell draws him out of his thoughts, and he looks over only to find a hard blue-green stare cutting into him. The Titan is laying down with a tired grace ' the epitome of lounging predator.

Pierre stiffens at the intelligence swimming in the human-like eyes, and he shifts uncomfortably in his chair. Guilt chews at his heart the longer he looks at what he would have called a child had he not known better. When his control slips and his heart crawls up to where his brain generally sits, he imagines that the Titan probably looks around nine or ten years old in this form. But the predatory glare boring into him '

has it blinked even once?

'has a much older feel to it. There 's too much awareness in that gaze for either a small child or the dumb creature he 'd thought all Titans to be.

Sometimes he wants to scream at the immorality of keeping a child locked up, but other times 'times like this 'he 's reminded just how deceiving appearances can be. A mantra of

'It's a Titan, not a little kid '

repeats itself helpfully in his head as the cold, unblinking stare sears though the creature 's cherubic face.

It's unnerving.

The chair beneath him creaks as Pierre shuffles disconcertedly again.

'Pierre. ' He turns to see Annabelle stepping through the door that leads to the upper levels, a soft smile on her face as she holds up a plate with two hastily-made sandwiches. 'I brought lunch. '

He smiles, tapping his index finger just below his eye, before touching a snap to his lips with an exaggerated motion.

'It looks delicious. '

He gets a swat to the arm and an accusatory 'Flatterer ' for that.

'Anything interesting happen while I was gone? ' She asks, sitting down at the table while she glances over his notes. He jerks his chin towards the Titan cell and sees her stiffen when she turns and catches sight of the boy-like creature with the eyes of a predator. She shudders. 'How long has it been doing that? '

He traps the tip of his thumb under his index finger next to his chin and slides it away while rearranging his fingers into a ring and then trails his fingertips up his arm.

'Too long. '

She makes a quiet hum and turns her back to the Titan. 'Well, at least we have something to tell Dr. Grisha when he comes down. ' She frowns at the thought before shaking it off. 'On a lighter note ' ' Annabelle holds out his lunch, and he accepts it gratefully. She winces when it starts to fall apart in his hands 'One of these days, I 'll learn to cook like you. '

Pierre weighs his hands like scales with a smirk,

'Maybe '

, and gets a playful nudge in the leg.

The atmosphere is genial, and for a second, Pierre thinks nothing eventful will happen for the rest of the day. The thought dissipates the second he takes his first bite.

A sudden, heavy

thud

from the Titan cell sends them both scrambling into alertness, hands going for weapons, meal forgotten. The Titan, which had been almost entirely dormant ever since taking its strange new form had slammed itself bodily against the glass, eyes wild and fixed in their direction as it collapses to its knees. Condensation clings to the glass by its mouth as it releases a forlorn whine.

'What happened? ' Annabelle glances at him, only removing her eyes from the Titan for a moment to read his reaction. 'Did you see what happened? ' He shakes his head, grabbing for his clipboard to record the abnormal behavior. He attempts to walk closer to get a better look at it, but Annabelle snatches his sleeve to halt him. 'What are you doing? You know we 're not supposed to get so close while it 's awake! What if it breaks through? ' He shakes his head again and holds his hand out in a reassuring gesture before removing his arm from her grip.

The Titan is still on its knees, so he crouches down to get a better look at it, recording everything that he sees on his clipboard. The creature hasn 't moved since hurling itself against the pane, so he taps on the glass, hoping to elicit a reaction from it. He can hear the quiet, distressed noise his wife makes behind him at the provocation.

Something behind him draws the Titan 's attention. Pierre glances back for just a moment but all he sees is the empty table they 'd been sitting at.

The once-giant lowers a hand from the glass to rub at its mouth, making that warbling cry again. It 's a surprisingly intelligent gesture 'almost canine 'and it gives him pause. A Titan shouldn 't be capable of that level of communication.

Was it 'hungry? It had only moved when he 'd started to eat 'No. Impossible. Titans didn 't actually need food 'they didn 't even have a digestive system. They never bothered anything but humans. It was one of the great mysteries surrounding the beasts. Besides, there was food in the cell. He gestures at the corpse with his pen, tapping the glass to call the creature 's attention to it.

The Titan 's eyes narrow, and it stares at him for a moment before it starts to move its head. No, not move 'it

shakes its head

'in response to his unspoken question.

His clipboard and pen clatter to the floor as Pierre jerks back.

Impossible

.

He turns around, looking to Annabelle as if to verify what he just saw. Her eyes are wide, mouth parted in shock as she looks at the Titan.

'That 'That shouldn 't be possible. ' She looks at Pierre. 'It must be a fluke. '

He nods, looking back to the Titan. There was one sure way to tell, of course. He dusts himself of as he stands, (not that he needs to, Dr. Grisha is very strict about cleanliness in the lab) and retrieves his forgotten lunch from the table behind him, ignoring the warning look from his partner.

Slowly, he brings it forward, setting the plate outside the cell and watching as the Titan follows it down, scrabbling at the glass and concrete in a furious attempt to get to the morsel. When it becomes apparent that there was no getting to the piece of food, the Titan stops its attempt, looking up to growl at him.

He isn 't deterred, though. He points at the food, looking into the creature 's eyes pointedly. The Titan seems to catch his meaning after many moments of simply staring at him, as it slowly nods its head up and down. Curious, Pierre points to himself, and receives the same negative answer he did the first time. He doesn 't know if he should feel offended or grateful that the Titan doesn 't want to eat him.

Lips thinning with the realization that there was a Titan '

or more. Oh please don 't be more

'that had genuine intelligence, he turns to his wife. He could see the same thought running through her head. Suddenly Humanity 's chance of actually

beating

the Titans had gotten even smaller.

With a surprisingly steady hand, he reaches out and pinches 'as if picking something up 'and then taps four fingers to his inner wrist.

'Go find the Doctor.'

When the small parcel of human food is dropped into his prison through a small door in the wall, he wastes no time cramming it into his mouth and swallowing it, ignoring the watchful gaze of the leader human and its subordinates in his periphery. With no time spared for chewing or actually tasting what he 's ingesting, he focuses on the blissful feeling of something solid being cradled in the hollow of his belly.

It 's not enough to erase the malnourishment that clings to him, but he knows it will help the immediate problem. When he turns to look at the humans, he finds himself pinned under the weight of the leader 's piercing stare.

The look in the human 's eyes is triumphant and the hairs on his neck bristle at the dark look. He meets the gaze with a glare of his own, and the air seems to fizzle with the kind of tension that only rears its head when two predators circle each other.

"You mean..." Annabelle shares a look of dread with her husband before turning back to Dr. Grisha "there are

more

like this?"

The doctor nods, satisfaction at the new find lending him extra patience. "From what I gather, they 're incredibly rare. In my entire career, I 've only ever heard of three aside from the one here. ' His eyes narrow at the memories.

'The first one I ever encountered was when I was apprenticing for the last doctor here. The Titan had the unique ability to fluoresce, which made it intriguing to say the least. It would glow bright enough to make looking at it highly uncomfortable for anyone unfortunate enough to be standing too close. At first we thought that was the only interesting thing about it, but ' ' he smiles, slowly and unpleasantly 'It had

intelligence

. Your feeble minds cannot fully comprehend the importance of that discovery, but I assure you it was a marvel of science. We learned so much from that creature. '

He frowns, and Anabelle can see irritation skitter across his frame. 'We had been attempting to remove its spine when we accidentally tore its weak spot. ' He looks at the small Titan 's cell with an expression of amused resentment on his face. 'Nothing so interesting as a humanoid creature falling out happened that time. We simply lost our most valuable experiment. ' He visibly pushes down his irritation. 'After that, the only contact I was able to get was from the soldiers. Twice now, excursion forces have come back decimated, saying that one of the Titans they encountered had begun to

strategize.

I interrogated every single soldier, and I 've decided that they were telling the truth. '

The doctor rubs a hand over his sparse facial hair. 'My predecessor was of the opinion that these intelligent Titans possessed '

abilities,

and I have seen enough to agree with him. The one we caught fluoresced, and 'if the stories are to be believed 'there was one that could harden parts of its body into diamond-like crystals, and another that could sprout sharp quills from its body instantaneously. ' Again, he looks to their current specimen. 'And it seems as though this one has the uncanny ability to turn

humanoid

. '

Annabelle can almost see the gears clicking away behind his eyes, forming new experiments and tests 'My old mentor named these abnormalities

Hyperions,

after one of the twelve titan children of Earth and the Sky, and proposed that they should reside in their own class all together, separate from both the Crius and Coeus classes. Further study will tell us if this is an appropriate proposal. I intend to leave no stone unturned when it comes to this creature. '

He looks at them then, and she can see the unspoken warning in his eyes.

'If you ruin this specimen in any way, I will

ruin

you. '

The next time he wakes up, there is a deer corpse sprawled out where the dead human had lain previously. He tears into it ravenously, crooning delightedly at the taste of delicious food. The meat isn 't warm, but it 's

fresh

and it 's

filling

and it makes him want to cry with happiness.

When his body no longer feels as if it's trying to cannibalize itself stomach first, he turns to the humans looking on, and dips his head in thanks.

Maybe he would survive this place after all.