Am I in Attack on Titan with a Death Note???

"Now… what do I do?" Zen muttered, his eyes drifting toward the distant settlement beyond the towering wall.

Shiganshina District.

If this really was Attack on Titan, then that was where Eren, Mikasa, and Armin lived.

His chest tightened.

What should he do?

Save Eren's mom?

…Why?

What reason did he have to do that?

He had never met her. She wasn't real to him—just a character from an anime he had watched.

And yet…

Zen clenched his fists.

He knew what was coming. He knew how she would die—crushed beneath the jaws of a Titan while Eren watched, powerless.

It wasn't just a story anymore. It was real.

The screams. The blood. The terror.

His breath came out shaky.

Could he really just let it happen?

The Shinigami let out a dry chuckle beside him. "Thinking too hard about things you can't change?"

Zen shot him a glare. "Can't change? I have a Death Note."

The Shinigami's grin widened. "And what will you do with it? Kill the Titans?" It snickered. "Go ahead. Try. Write 'Colossal Titan' again and see if it works."

Zen didn't need to be told twice. He had already hesitated for a reason. The Death Note worked on humans. Titans… were something else.

Maybe if he wrote Bertolt's name, it would work—but that would throw everything into chaos.

He sucked in a breath, shaking his head.

"Fine," he muttered. "Then I'll have to do this another way."

Zen turned his gaze back toward Shiganshina.

He had time before the attack. Not much—but enough.

Enough to figure out what the hell he was going to do.

With one last glance at the Shinigami, he shoved the Death Note into his coat and started walking.

Toward the town.

Toward the people who had no idea what was coming.

Then— a sharp headache hit him.

"Ugh… this shit is too complicated…" he muttered, rubbing his temples.

Eren could control the past.

The thought sent his mind spiraling. With the Founding Titan's power, Eren could send memories back, influence events—he saw everything before it happened and made sure it happened.

Zen winced, pressing his fingers against his forehead.

The Smiling Titan. Carla Jaeger.

That Titan was supposed to eat Bertolt first. But Eren changed that. He made sure it ignored Bertolt and killed his mother instead.

Why?

Zen exhaled sharply.

If Carla survived, everything could change.

Eren might not have the same hatred for Titans.

He might never join the Scouts.

He might never inherit the Attack Titan.

The entire story could play out differently.

Zen sighed, shaking his head.

"This is some insane butterfly effect shit…"

He looked up at Shiganshina again, gripping his coat.

"Whatever… I'll figure it out later."

For now, he needed to get there before the nightmare began.

Zen kept walking.

The closer he got to Shiganshina, the louder the city became—people chatting, merchants shouting, children laughing as they ran through the streets. It was just an ordinary day for them.

They had no idea their world was about to end.

Zen clenched his jaw. This wasn't just some anime anymore. These were real people, real lives, real deaths. And he was stuck in the middle of it.

He slipped into a less crowded alleyway, leaning against the wall. His headache still lingered, a dull throb at the back of his skull. His mind raced.

The Death Note was still there, tucked inside his coat. He could write names, change things, maybe even stop some of the destruction.

But should he?

The Shinigami floated beside him, watching with that same damn grin. "You're thinking too hard, human."

Zen scoffed. "Yeah? Maybe because this shit isn't simple."

The creature tilted its head. "It is, though. You have power. You use it. Or you don't."

Zen exhaled sharply. "If I change too much, I might make things worse. If I do nothing, thousands die."

The Shinigami chuckled. "Tough choice."

Zen ran a hand through his hair. He needed a plan. Something. Anything.

His gaze drifted to the people moving around the streets, completely unaware of what was coming.

Then his eyes narrowed.

There.

A familiar face.

Eren Jaeger.

Zen's breath caught for half a second. The kid looked younger than he remembered. Of course, he was. The attack hadn't happened yet.

And beside him—Mikasa. Armin.

Zen felt his pulse quicken.

This was it. The beginning of everything.

His hands curled into fists.

If he was going to do something, he had to decide.

Zen inhaled deeply, steadying his nerves.

Alright. If he was going to make a move, he had to do it right.

Saving Eren's mother wasn't just about being a good person—it was an opportunity. If he played this right, he could make himself look like a hero, gain Eren and Mikasa's trust, and put himself in a position of influence.

He smirked slightly. If he had to live in this world, he might as well carve out some advantages.

But how?

He couldn't just stroll up and say, "Hey, a giant skinless Titan is about to kick a hole in your wall, and your mom's gonna get eaten." No one would believe him. If anything, he'd be locked up for spouting nonsense.

That meant he had to act at the perfect moment.

Zen turned away from the street and found a spot near the rooftops, climbing up onto a stable ledge. From here, he had a good view of everything—people moving about, guards patrolling lazily, and, most importantly, Eren's home in the distance.

He exhaled sharply.

If he played his cards right, he could milk that trust for everything it was worth.

The Shinigami hovered beside him, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Ah… I see. You're not just trying to save her. You're trying to set the board in your favor."

Zen didn't deny it. "Why wouldn't I? If I'm stuck here, I might as well make sure I don't end up another nameless corpse."

The Shinigami laughed. "Oh, you are interesting."

Zen didn't respond. He just kept his eyes locked on the peaceful city below.

Waiting.

Because soon, that peace was going to shatter.

"3..."

"2..."

"1..."