Bertolt's shoulders sag slightly with relief, tension he didn't know he carried abruptly draining from them. Reiner made it. That's good. That's beyond good. Whatever else happened—whatever terrible thing Annie can't bring herself to talk about—it could have been so much worse.
Bertolt accepted that it could be worse, didn't he? Just before he transformed, before that fox came to find him, he accepted that he could handle any outcome. Granted, he didn't expect the outcome to involve coming to this place, stepping away from the slaughter instead of killing the survivors. However, he has yet to regret that choice.
His relief wanes as Annie continues, his gaze sharpening, expression solemn. When she mentions Eren's attack on Liberio, Bertolt's composure wavers, a hint of shock and sorrow shining through—but it only lasts for a moment. Annie continues speaking, unveiling horrors far worse, and Bertolt fixes his mind on absorbing as much as he can. Focusing in as if Eren were a target across a field and Bertolt were lining up a shot.
The idea that they can't do anything here to stop Eren back home is sobering, to say the least. Bertolt almost wants to argue; he would definitely argue with Reiner or even Zeke. However, Annie wouldn't say such a thing if she didn't believe it with absolute certainty. So Bertolt inclines his head, reluctantly adding to the pile of bad news.
"Eren has the Founder's power already," he says, his brows drawing together as he recalls that day. "He used it to command Pure Titans to attack us. That was a few months ago, for me." Bertolt pauses, then shakes his head slightly. "Maybe Eren needs something else to gain full control over it. But we shouldn't count on him not having it here."
Between that and the Warhammer Titan's power increasing Eren's capabilities… Bertolt makes himself take a sip of his now lukewarm drink, mind churning out one terrible scenario after another.
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Bertolt accepted that it could be worse, didn't he? Just before he transformed, before that fox came to find him, he accepted that he could handle any outcome. Granted, he didn't expect the outcome to involve coming to this place, stepping away from the slaughter instead of killing the survivors. However, he has yet to regret that choice.
His relief wanes as Annie continues, his gaze sharpening, expression solemn. When she mentions Eren's attack on Liberio, Bertolt's composure wavers, a hint of shock and sorrow shining through—but it only lasts for a moment. Annie continues speaking, unveiling horrors far worse, and Bertolt fixes his mind on absorbing as much as he can. Focusing in as if Eren were a target across a field and Bertolt were lining up a shot.
The idea that they can't do anything here to stop Eren back home is sobering, to say the least. Bertolt almost wants to argue; he would definitely argue with Reiner or even Zeke. However, Annie wouldn't say such a thing if she didn't believe it with absolute certainty. So Bertolt inclines his head, reluctantly adding to the pile of bad news.
"Eren has the Founder's power already," he says, his brows drawing together as he recalls that day. "He used it to command Pure Titans to attack us. That was a few months ago, for me." Bertolt pauses, then shakes his head slightly. "Maybe Eren needs something else to gain full control over it. But we shouldn't count on him not having it here."
Between that and the Warhammer Titan's power increasing Eren's capabilities… Bertolt makes himself take a sip of his now lukewarm drink, mind churning out one terrible scenario after another.