Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin. It belongs to Hajime Isayama.

The room is pitch-dark, and there's nowhere to run.

I feel the electricity everywhere; feel it run through my veins, unknitting my bones. It boils my blood, turning my nerves into ash. But then it stops, and my nerves flare with flame. The pain thrums through me as I scream, thrashing as the sparks dance across my skin.

Make it stop make it stop make it stop.

"Remember your mission," someone says. But I do not recognize their voice.

All I hear is the sound of something heavy being pulled, the sound of liquid lightning sizzling and crackling in the air, and spasms of pain wreck my body once again.

I don't know who I am anymore; I am nothing but the pain.

There is nothing else I can feel.

"Remember your mission," They say again, and it would be a miracle if I could. My brain is fried. I can't even recall my own name.

Lightning strikes through me again, my body arching in anguish, and I'm not even surprised anymore. It's become something I've learnt to expect.

They repeat those damn words again, and I try to scream at them, to cry out, but my throat is bone-dry, my lungs raw from all the screaming I have done. Remember what? I want to shout, my nerves shrieking in protest. Tell me!

They do not answer.

And as I feel myself burn away to nothing again, I say goodbye to all that I have known, falling into the embrace of the gathering dark.

I wake when dawn is just breaking.

The sky is tinted purple and orange, the heavy matutinal silence filling the air, and I don't need to take a look at myself to know that I'm a shivering mess. The bedsheets and my clothes are soaked through with sweat, my damp hair clinging possessively to my neck. The sticky feeling makes me shudder, the itch for a shower becoming unbearably overwhelming.

It's only when I uncurl my fists that I realize I've kicked the thin blanket to the ground. Sighing shakily, I rub my left eye with the heel of my palm.

What the hell was that?

"Bad dream?"

I flinch, surprised, like the words had physically hurt me. Blinking away my grogginess, I strain my eyes against the dimly lit room to see who had just spoken. There's no one else here except another girl and I, her small figure leaning on the doorframe, but I can't see her face.

"I'm sorry?" I ask tentatively, not missing the rasp in my voice. Damn it to hell. When was the last time I had a proper glass of water?

She shifts forward into the light, and I manage to catch a glimpse of her features. Her pale blonde hair reflects the light of dawn, her right fringe draped along the side of her face. At first her hair hides her eyes, but when she tilts her head upwards to look at me, I see that they are an icy, sullen shade of blue.

I feel an unwelcome chill settle over my skin as I continue studying her. Her skin is practically alabaster, and her overall paleness makes me feel like I'm facing a carved marble statue; one that looks like she'd really rather be anywhere but here.

I freeze when she locks her eyes with mine, making me strangely unnerved with her apathetic stare. "You were having a bad dream," she states, her voice monotone.

"Huh?" My mind is foggy from sleep, and I struggle to answer her question. "Yeah... I was."

Her eyes glint with the confirmation, and with slow, sure, steps, she makes her way over to my bed, studying me carefully. I swallow painfully, a little anxious to move. She watches me like a hungry lion, and I can't help but feel like I'm the one playing the role of her ever submissive prey.

"It must have been pretty bad," she says contemplatively, "To have gotten you all sweaty and screaming like that."

I just stare at her. How long has she been here? And what's the point of all her questions anyway? I think. But I don't answer her, simply eyeing her in a state of stunned silence. A gut feeling tells me that the less she knows what's going on inside of my head, the better.

Her eyes gradually narrow at my continued muteness, and she shakes her head disgustedly. "Ah, it was probably something stupid and fluffy anyway. The way you look practically screams 'weak'."

What the hell?

My jaw clenches, my teeth gnashing against each other in protest. Who the hell does she think she is? I think, my nails digging into my palm. If she wants, I'll show her just how fluffy I can get.

I'm about to throw her a sharp retort before she interjects, saying, "You should get your ass out of bed and get ready. Morning assembly will be in session in twenty minutes."

She walks to the door, placing her hand on the doorknob. "Instructor Shadis wanted to show us the new recruit," she turns, sneering at me. "A shame that I get to experience the disappointment before everyone else."

That's it, bitch.

Sitting up suddenly, I hiss, "Just what exactly, is your Goddamn problem-"

Click.

I blink. Once, twice; stupefied as I stare at the door.

She's left, just like that. What's up with her? Definitely someone I'm going to avoid bumping into.

Or maybe it's just me, I reason, rubbing my eyes sleepily, yawning.

And she was saying something about an instructor…

Oh. My mind clears immediately when I realize where I am. Military training. I'm on autopilot as I hop out of bed, heading to the tiny bathroom as I repeat to myself the fundamentals of my life now.

My name is Kara Michelakos. My home is Trost, I tell my reflection, staring at her amber eyes in the mirror. My father's dying wish was for me to join the military, hence my late recruitment.

I wash up, letting the cool water rejuvenate me. A while later, I walk outside to see my new military uniform folded neatly on the bedside table. My name is Kara Michelakos, I think absently, twisting my copper brown hair into a braid. I am here to enlist in the military. My purpose is to use my life as part of humanity's dwindling defense against the Titans. My mission-

I stop in my tracks, the strands of my braid unwinding as my hands stop working. My mission? I wonder in frustration.

What mission?

And the dream… what does it even mean?

I let the thought sink in. This isn't the first time I've tried to identify what these dreams mean. I've been having them ever since the day I woke up and could barely remember my father and mother's faces. Somehow, these dreams seem like they're a mask for something underneath. And that someday, I have yet to discover what that something is, lurking in the recesses of my subconscious…

I shake my head, sighing and prompting myself to focus. How stupid and fanciful of me to think that way.

Groaning, I pick up the tan leather jacket and slip it over the shoulders of my white button-up, although it takes some time because of all the ridiculous bondage straps restricting my movement. How are we going to kill Titans, I complain mentally, if we're all tied up like livestock for the slaughter?

After a few tugs at the leather cuffs of my sleeves, I stretch a little. The material of the jacket is hard and unyielding, but I reason with myself that it'll probably get broken in after a few washes. I'm pulling the leather boots onto my feet when the pain, swift and sudden, strikes through my head like a crash of thunder.

My vision goes black for a moment and I see stars, choking on my own breath as my hands desperately scramble to put pressure on my head. I breathe in, breathe out, press down; and the pain slowly subsides.

I blink the static away from my vision, gingerly pushing myself off of the bed. This isn't the first time this has happened, and I can only hope that these flashes of a major headache don't plague me when I'm out on the field.

Breathing deeply for good measure, I finally walk to the door and push it open, wincing as the first rays of morning sun sting my eyes. As I take my first few steps out the door, I can't help but feel anxious. What if I don't succeed? What if I'm not fit to be here? I can't help but think. And what if everyone else is just like the pale girl from just now?

I push those thoughts away roughly, down to the lowest abyss, and I step off the porch and into the sunlight, readying myself to face the members of the 104th Trainee Squad.

My name is Kara Michelakos, I tell myself again.

And I will try to be brave.

Chapter Soundtrack: Imagine Dragons-Radioactive.