It's on my bracelet, so I think I am supposed to do it. T-to you.

[That is, at least, what Armin had come to understand from the other people in this world. All people who, just like him, had been plucked from their own worlds and put here. Worlds that were all very different from the one he lived in; worlds without Titans or Walls, worlds that weren't even worlds at all, but ships that moved among the stars or entire cities in the clouds. It would've been a fascinating thing to learn about (actually, honestly, it still is) but the cost at which it comes is cruel, to say the least.

He bites his lip, nervously carding one hand through his hair.]

This is... I'm sorry, it's insane, really. I don't-- I don't even know your name! And yet they expect me to do... to do that to you.