The Titan world had been ravaged to the brink of collapse, and the death toll on Earth was climbing in a straight, terrifying line.
It wasn't just humans—even animals and countless surface creatures were being dragged into the disaster. The entire ecosystem was being brutally torn apart.
If this continued—if they were allowed to run wild here—then this planet would very likely be reduced to nothing but ruins in the end.
And by the time new life re-emerged… who knew what year that would be?
Roger wouldn't wait for a civilizational reset like that to happen.
He didn't want microorganisms to be the ones "testifying" to what value life had.
So what if he died?
Roger thought: if his legion had no real power, and he alone stood against this… what could he possibly accomplish?
A long time ago, he had believed everyone else in the world was a fool, and that only he was truly intelligent.
It was arrogant—yet the truth seemed to prove him right.
In everything he had ever done from childhood to adulthood, he had always been the calmest, the coldest.
No matter what the matter was, he would reduce it to pure benefit, placing everything on a scale and comparing it again and again—until he arrived at a decision so ruthless it could overturn human nature itself.
And the results proved it worked.
But so what?
If humans were no longer human… what was the point?
Wasn't the reason humanity mattered precisely because it possessed humanity?
Roger knew that if he refused to sacrifice himself, the world would very likely fracture and collapse right here, right now.
He looked at the flames rising across the globe, at the screams and wails of despair.
And at last, he made his decision.
Distribute the Titans.
The first power he separated was the Female Titan.
That Titan possessed flexibility—an ability that could balance the strengths of the other Titans.
With that boost, the Titan legion's speed would increase.
And it did.
The moment the Titans received that power, their speed rose sharply—so much so that even the enemy could no longer suppress them the way they had before.
This became a battle of colossi. With the advantage in speed, the Titan legion surged ahead, far outpacing those clumsy monsters in combat.
But it still wasn't fast enough.
And their killing power still wasn't enough. With flesh alone, they couldn't truly contend with the enemy.
So Roger separated the Armored Titan and the Jaw Titan as well.
The Jaw Titan was the fastest of all Titans, and the Armored Titan possessed the hardest shell of them all.
With those two powers added, the Titan legion's attack and defense rose dramatically.
But at the exact moment those three Titan powers were torn away, Roger himself weakened to a staggering degree—like a third of his soul had been ripped out.
Even so, the Titan legion was still being punished by countless traps, unable to deal effective damage—
Unless the enemy lacked restraining abilities.
But among the League's champions, many possessed exactly those kinds of restraining powers. They pinned the Titans to the ground, slowly grinding down their armor, tormenting them until death.
Seeing that, Roger finally separated the War Hammer Titan.
He gave the Titans weapons—letting them forge the tools and arms they were best suited to, so they could strike their enemies with greater efficiency.
At last, with weapons—combined with their immense height, overwhelming strength, and hardened armor—the Titan legion surged forward in a full offensive, forcing the League's champions into steady retreat. Even the gigantic monsters—Malphite, Nautilus, and even the Colossus of Justice and Cho'Gath—couldn't land effective blows on them.
These Titans were simply too fast!
Their speed was as though it had surpassed the limits of gravity itself—like a light leap could send them straight into the sky.
But at the same time, Roger had visibly aged.
His Titan form looked utterly haggard. He sat on the ground as thick beast-fur slowly grew across his body.
This was the form of the Beast Titan.
He now possessed only two Titans: the Beast Titan and the Founding Titan.
The Founding Titan was responsible for commanding and ruling all Titans—and it consumed all of his mental strength.
What Roger could still use now was only the Beast Titan, and the wings derived from it.
Yet those wings could now only drag him slowly through the air. They couldn't make him faster.
But it was enough.
As Roger flew through the sky, he watched his legion win battle after battle, launching relentless assaults.
The enemy's offensive remained fierce, but under the protection of the mechanical cores, their attacks were being neutralized effectively.
Roger crossed the world in flight. He could no longer engage the giant monsters below in single combat like before, but his Titans inherited his will—fighting like savage warriors, locked in battles to the death.
But Lailian wasn't an idiot.
When those Titans first appeared, he had been shocked, unable to understand how they had developed power so mismatched with what the "original story" should have allowed.
Yet once he finally noticed a Titan flying in the sky—never joining the battle, only watching—he understood.
That one was the Founding Titan.
The world's source.
Only by killing him could this world be forced back onto a "normal" track, and only then could the world's source be stolen completely.
So Lailian summoned another being—and pointed at Roger.
The creature obeyed, instantly flying toward Roger, dragging darkness across heaven and earth as it moved.
"Go! Eternal Nightmare!"
Lailian shouted.
In an instant, the world went dark!
A terrifying, vicious laughter flooded every corner of the world!
With no light to see by, no one dared make a move. They could only wait—wait until the battle between Nightmare and Roger ended before they could act again.
Because Roger had stripped nearly all Titans from his body, he could no longer wield the overwhelming combat strength he once had.
But he wouldn't surrender easily.
The moment Nightmare swooped in, Roger immediately retracted his wings and hurled himself downward, trying to break free of the attack.
Yet Nightmare's unspeaking horror still burrowed into Roger's mind, forcing on him the most despairing nightmare.
Roger was hit.
He crashed to the ground, his consciousness sinking into darkness as endless torment began.
In the dream, he found himself back in childhood.
When he sat up in bed, a foggy drizzle was falling outside.
The companions who had once been devoured by hunting dogs were still out there, playing happily—splashing rainwater on each other.
Roger was wrapped in a quilt, a warm stove glowing beside him.
So…
Was it all a dream?
Roger thought.
Had everything, from the very beginning, been nothing but a long, long dream?
His awareness dulled. By instinct, he walked toward his grandmother's room.
He opened the door and leaned close beside her.
"I'm so sorry, little Roger. I can't make you breakfast today. Really… it's raining again. Every time it rains, my chest feels so tight I can barely breathe."
As she spoke, she coughed up blood, pressing a handkerchief to her mouth.
Roger's eyes widened in shock.
And suddenly, he remembered.
This was before he climbed over the Wall.
And the reason Grandma fell ill was because the Marleyans had built heavily polluting factories inside the Eldian internment zone.
Back then, a huge part of why he crossed the Wall was so he could buy the best medicine for Grandma, out there in the outside world.