Attack on Titan’s series finale isn’t supposed to feel good

Enjoying the last episode of Attack on Titan In 2023, I felt exactly the same as when I read the last chapter of the Manga two years earlier. The primal screams of the voice actors, goosebump-inducing soundtrack of anime music god Hiroyuki Sawano, and mostly crisp animation of MAPPA — close to but not quite on the same level as Wit Studio’s work on the first and second seasons — all enhanced the experience. They evoked the same emotions that I felt when reading the mangas on my laptop – fear, sorrow, and shame.

[Ed. note: This post discusses the end of the Attack on Titan anime and manga.]

Attack on Titan Final Episode “The Final Chapters Special 2” picks up where “Special 1” left off, with the surviving members of Marley’s Warriors and Paradis’ Survey Corps teaming up to stop protagonist turned antagonist Eren Yeager from destroying the world. He’s already destroyed half of it and nearly succeeds at wiping out humanity in its entirety. Eren’s fate arrives in the form of his adopted sister, former companion, and forbidden lover, Mikasa, who, after a lifetime spent protecting her brother-boyfriend, finds it in her to finally cut off his already disembodied head. Eren is killed, and the curse on the Titans ends. Everyone embraces. Years later, Mikasa visits Eren’s grave under the tree where they slept as children, and where, with Eren waking up from an indecipherable nightmare, the anime originally began. After centuries, the same tree remains, with the world once more engulfed by a war.

The ending of the anime, like the manga before it, has generated mixed responses, with many of the complaints boiling down to the handling of Eren’s character. Once heavily disliked by the fan base, his popularity went through the roof when — following the mid-series timeskip — he turned from an incompetent crybaby into a seemingly invincible force of nature, one whose decision to destroy the world appeared to be based on an enlightened understanding of human nature. Eren, after visiting Marley, sees how determined the government is to eradicate the inhabitants of the Walls. He comes to the conclusion that the two races cannot live in harmony and for either to thrive, they must die.

Image: MAPPA/Crunchyroll

If the goal of “The Final Chapters Special 1” was to establish Eren as this unstoppable force, “Special 2” reveals that the person hidden inside his big, scary titan body is, in fact, the same pathetic, helpless child we met at the beginning of the series. Eren hinted in the previous episode that his justifications were flawed and that he committed the crimes he committed because it was what he wanted, not out of necessity. The facade is further shattered in part 2 during an intimate conversation between Eren and his long-time friend Armin. They acknowledge that his plan might fail — a possibility confirmed by those end credits, which show the cycle of war continuing far into the future. The final image of the show, which shows an unnamed child walking through the place where Founder Ymir found her divine abilities, suggests the Titans will return at some point. Confronted by his imminent demise, Eren’s stoic demeanor gives way to tears, and he tells Armin he wants Mikasa to think of him for years to come.

It is important to look back at the early episodes in order to fully understand these disturbing plot points. Although Eren Yeager was, as mentioned, heavily disliked by viewers, he was still the protagonist, and the qualities that made him so frustrating to watch — his stubbornness and incompetence — also made him incredibly relatable. In Eren, Attack on Titan’s angsty adolescent fan base could find a perfect mirror: someone who feels deeply, yet is unable to express themselves to others, who wishes desperately to achieve his lofty goals but fails at almost every turn and is humiliated for it.

Eren’s character was popularized by this interpretation in the second part of the show, as he shifted from a main protagonist to a villain. The average viewer wasn’t excited by the Rumbling because they have genocidal aspirations of their own. (Although, given the series’ resonance with far-right viewers, this point is certainly worth investigating.) They were more excited by the plot of AoT is set up to make us identify with Eren and wish for him to succeed at something — anything.

In this context, Eren saying to Armin that Mikasa is his favorite and that he hopes Mikasa will like him can be seen as more than an act of confession. It’s also an admission of defeat — an admission that he was wrong, his plan was wrong, that he hasn’t grown, that his choices were misguided, and that all of his struggles were for nothing. In the anime, altered with manga creator Hajime Isayama’s input, Eren is even more explicit:

“Why did this happen?” he asks, kneeling in the blood of 80% of humanity. “I finally understand. It’s because I’m an idiot. An idiot you can find anywhere, who got himself incredible power.”

Attack on Titan wasn’t created in a vacuum, and many other manga and anime feature characters and plot lines that prey on the desires and insecurities of their impressionable audiences. Whereas most shonen tales let fans live out their own fantasies by becoming powerful warriors, and attracting attractive women, AoT Takes the opposite approach, choosing a hero whose weak ego makes him a monster, devil, or loser. Eren’s ending isn’t sloppily written. It’s not sloppy; Eren’s devolution is intended to be unsettling and unsatisfying. This serves as a rude awakening to anyone who has felt a connection with him at any stage of the series.

Yes, I do. As a high school freshman who suffered from social anxiety and dreamed of one day becoming a world-famous writer, I admired pre-timeskip Eren’s drive and willpower. He was praised for his unwavering commitment to his own goals and his inability to let criticism or ridicule affect him. I also sympathized with his self-loathing, with the way he agonized over his own shortcomings and deliberately punched himself in the face when he felt that his best wasn’t good enough.

Image: MAPPA/Crunchyroll

Image: MAPPA/Crunchyroll

And while I’ve never wanted to hurt another human being, I would be lying if I said that, during my lowest moments, there wasn’t a voice inside my head that told me life was cruel, and even wished for the destruction of the world.

To this day, no other piece of media — film, show, book, or video game — has spoken to me the way Attack on Titan has. Years ago, the series was a close friend and confidante, as precious to me as any living person. Eren’s maxims penetrated the reptilian part of my brain, where they lived rent-free, echoing whenever I was disappointed with myself or angry at the universe.

A lonely teenager Attack on Titan I was able to embrace myself, trust my emotions and work to make my dreams a reality. As a wiser, more well-adjusted adult who doesn’t feel so lonely or misunderstood anymore, my attitude toward Attack on Titan Has changed. While I still think that there is something uniquely and universally human about Eren’s character, I now recognize his ego as weakness, not strength, something that clouds his judgment, pushes away loved ones, and puts himself and everyone in danger.

These ideas are ones I had discussed before but were finally crystallized by the final. To watch Eren’s death is to let go of your inner child, of your pitiful temper tantrums and the naive, overly simplistic worldview that seeks to provide excuses for them. To finish Attack on Titan as a whole is to take a deep breath and say to yourself, “That was that. Now it’s time to grow up.”

Attack on TitanCrunchyroll is now streaming all the final episodes.