[You weren’t supposed to hear that you weren’t supposed to hear that you weren’t supposed to hear that you]
I…

I don’t… [you weren’t supposed to Aubrey’s hands, stiff and trembling, rise to you shouldn’t have her face, not quite covering you shouldn’t have done that they’re clean, they shouldn’t be this clean—]

[Half the light in the sky dies. With a deafening splash, the beach is gone, bright sands subsumed by a sprawling, endless hallway, fading into dark. That one door is closed—but, just barely discernible from a distance, pitch leaks out the seams, as if the room’s already flooded. It pours into the “sea,” the difference in dark liquids negligible.]

Ah…

[Aubrey isn’t looking. She doesn’t have to.]

See him. Talk to him.

[She stares through Eren.] That’s all that’s left, isn’t it?