As Eren slowly opened his eyes, the first thing that greeted him was the sight of a white ceiling adorned with luxurious paint and cozy illuminating devices. The soft glow cast a comforting ambiance in the room, momentarily distracting him from his numbing muscles. 

"Hmm…"

Eren stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, until a question abruptly pierced his mind.

"Where am I…?"

For a moment, his mind was a blank canvas, devoid of any recollection. He continued to gaze at the ceiling, trying to make sense of his surroundings. Then, like a distant echo, the memories flooded back.

"The Royal Museum!! "

Images of chaos and destruction overwhelmed his thoughts—Purblinds rampaging through the halls, Professor Llyod and the students of Freljord academy valiantly fighting against them, and the rebels' desperate attempt to harm the professor and the princess Aurora. 

Eren's brow furrowed as he tried to piece together the fragments of his memory.

"What happened?"

He distinctly remembered unleashing a powerful shot from the newly acquired weapon, the Rifle of Death. He had poured every ounce of strength into a single bullet in the hopes of stopping the adversity that was in the form of the red-haired women.

However, his recollection faded after that moment, leaving a void in his memory. 

After he fired the bullet, his mana had completely exhausted and a searing pain had coursed through his head, causing him to collapse without witnessing the outcome of his attack. 

Yet, the fact that he was still alive suggested that either his strike had been successful or reinforcements had arrived in time to protect him from the rebels.

"Well, it seems like everything has come to an end."

With a sense of relief, Eren acknowledged his safety and the apparent conclusion of the chaos. But as he evaluated the situation, his thoughts turned to the rifle—Satan's Rifle, or rather, the Rifle of Death. Eren had gone to great lengths to obtain that weapon, only to find himself now without it.

"I suppose the royal guards must have taken the rifle when they found me unconscious," he mused aloud, contemplating its fate. It pained him to think that he might never get the chance to wield that formidable weapon again.

"It's regrettable, but at least I saved a life."

The words slipped from his lips, but his conscience prodded at him, reminding him of the lives lost in the royal museum attack. If only he had alerted someone in a higher position with concrete proof, he could have saved all those who perished. How could he be content with merely rescuing the princess when others had paid the ultimate price for his acquisition of the rifle?

Each thought and reflection seemed to gnaw at his conscience, leaving him unsettled.

"Where did I go wrong?" he pondered aloud, seeking solace in the quiet room.

As Eren grappled with his thoughts, a whirlwind of self-doubt and introspection engulfed his mind. 

He pondered the moments that may have led him astray. He wondered if it was when he chose to use Zephyr to clear the Exile and gain strength or when he resolved to obtain Satan's rifle despite knowing the impending disaster that would befall the royal museum and the deaths that would follow. 

The exact point of his transformation into a self-perceived villain eluded him, but he couldn't deny that he had veered off the path he once knew.

"No one else may be aware, but deep down, I refuse to acknowledge my own actions," he muttered, grappling with his conflicting emotions.

It was too hard for him to accept the fact that some innocent lives were sacrificed due to his actions.

"Even in this second life, my mind remains weak."

Although Eren thought as such, It wasn't true.

In reality, his mindset was stronger than most. He possessed an unwavering determination to survive even in the face of overwhelming adversity, persisting when others believed he was destined for demise. Countless near-death encounters had honed his resilience, allowing him to emerge from the brink of disaster with unwavering resolve.

Wasn't the fact that he survived for 13 long years even after he lost his family and was kicked out of the academy in his previous life the proof?

The real reason for his current struggle was his wavering self-belief and a heart that had deluded himself as the one responsible for all the misfortunes.

Eren in his previous life was not like this. He had been different then, driven solely by the instinct to survive. He pursued any means necessary to ensure his own existence, disregarding anything else that might stand in his way. 

But now, things have changed.

His parents and his loved ones were alive, he had everything that he had once lost.  Which resulted in a fear that had taken root within him—the fear of losing his loved ones once again, witnessing the deaths of friends and comrades, and reliving the agony of losing someone dear.

This fear, like shackles, bound him. Instead of becoming a source of strength, it obstructed his path, impeding his ability to act. His obsession with protecting his loved ones hindered his own progress, although he remained oblivious to this self-imposed limitation.

In Eren's mind, he was a regressor and he thought himself as a man reborn with the power to alter the fates of others. It was this belief that fueled his guilt, burdening him with the hardships endured by those around him.

Just as his thoughts continued to whirl, a voice reached his ears—a voice he had longed to hear for years.

"My son!!"

Eren's gaze slowly turned towards the door of the room, where a figure stood in surprise, filling him with a sense of warmth and nostalgia. 

Eren's eyes started to tear up involuntarily as he looked at the figure.

It was someone he had missed dearly in his previous life, someone who held an irreplaceable place in his heart—his mother.

—***---

Daily Chapter Release ~

(Extremely Sorry for the delay of updates)

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