Author's Note: I have plans to rewrite chapter one at a later date, but for now I'd like to get all my ideas out and set. I apologize for the one re-write, that was too much action all at once. I also just discovered there is a band called I Am Giant, so no, that's not the reason I named the story that. I didn't want to use something cliche like Attack on Giant. The story is going to focus a lot more on the Giant and his balancing loving and ending life. I promise longer chapters when life settles down. Thank you for the reviews and the inspiration to continue this story.

There are many paths in life that one may take. Pick up a penny, miss one potential love passing by, turn about and consider the trees, suddenly desire apples, and walk to a market where the one you'll marry awaits. This had been the Giant's discourse, wandering aimlessly, only heading towards the city when he looked upon a bird flock, deciding to take time watching them, their path turning synthetic eyes to the distant settlement. He smiled, blinked a few times, appreciating nature and the prospect of humanity's continued existence, and marched steadily in that direction. Had he contemplated a different path, flying high by fusion rockets, he might have shot over the scouts and into the city, causing a destructive riot. Instead, by enjoying nature's beauty, by how life needed to exist to be more than senseless spirits, how it twisted and formed to appreciate the universe's designs, the Giant walked into a gathering most hostile to tall beings.

Consider Mina, crouched on a branch, blades drawn, choosing not to back away when the Giant passed. Had she not seen him oblivious to Eren comically swinging behind she might have retreated. Had she not seen Levi carefully dropped to the ground, mimicking a bug lowered by a child, she might have rushed out to strike in futile at a metal wrist. She kept still, eyes narrow, searching carefully for what this all meant, when the Giant passed by, blinked and waved.

"Hello."

Did... did he just wave? Was that a greeting?

Such detailed contemplatives rarely crossed the Giant's mind. Head tilted, smile waning into wariness, the Giant took a small step back, fingers first curling as would a man feeling uneasy, before the powerful arm returned properly to a reinforced side. Blades. He thought the flashes to be a reflection, not registering Levi attacked. Mina, armed, dangerous, gun. All at once a bitter memory returned, a destructive march through Hogarth's town, the effects blinked away when metal eyelids clinked together.

Despite being so high up, the Scouts were not out of the Giant's reach. Yet those hands, so destructive in capability, owned by a truly gentle soul, were left low and open, inspected fearfully by a lost soul. Shoulders rose, head following, both in turn falling to a machine's sigh. "I am not a weapon."

"The damn thing speaks!"

Thomas could have been slapped with the glares sent by the other Scouts. Giving a brief glance, the Giant snorted and turned away. He spoke, he existed, he felt. Kent Mansley's face flashed through troubled circuits, a fool and yet so weak a man that it gave much needed humor. He laughed, looked back to Thomas, and called out, "I am not a thing."

"Then... what are you?" Mina inquired, testing confidence that the being would not harm them, albeit none of they could harm it. Levi's failure to leave a mark had shocked and awed all, but none, save she, dared risk to follow suit, let alone speak to him. Perhaps that had been too harsh, and given the unusual nature of the Giant's presence and they still breathing, Mina bit back the nervous laugh for attempting this seemingly insane experiment. "Who are you?"

You are who you choose to be. This loving memory brought pride and happiness. Facing her, arms akimbo, the Giant looked to the left and up. "I am Superman."

That did it, shocked whispers trading through the branches. "Superman." "He returns." "The steel man." "The man of steel." One word gave those who sought to flee pause, one name that had been lost to human ears for ages, seen often in the old libraries yet always passed over as a phrase that once, in days long past, held great cultural meaning to be reprinted so many times. One near holy name that spoke of a foreign man that defended humanity, faded image painted upon delicate paper called comics, he who fought monsters akin to Titans in the name of justice. Superman, shared with a similar story, how a literal man of steel charged a blazing comic, vanishing to hellish fire, saving a thousand lives, spoken with rich vigor during sermons. He died for humanity, a pastor would say, not realizing the irony of such words, or the true history behind two represented stories.

"Superman returns."