I've played over 1800 hours of rimworld in the last 8 months. Someone please help me.

But, hey! Surviving upon the Rimworld has given me one of my really good ideas: The first AOT X Rimworld Crossover! You know the drill: an advanced civilization comes down from the stars and crosses paths with humans upon a planet lacking in technology. They interact with each other, shit happens, things blow up, people die, and canon goes to hell in a hand basket. That's the basic premise I have for this story, and I already know how I want it to end.

Now to set the record straight, I'll have you all know that my colonies upon the rimworlds are wonderful and wholesome places to live, that prosper without organ harvesting, cannibalism, selling prisoners into slavery, questionable scientific ethics, or committing war-crimes on a scale that would make Hitler weep. But rest assured, we do make a hell of a lot of dangerous and addictive drugs to sell for that sweet, sweet silver. Hey! It's an honest business!

Now without further delay, here it is! Enjoy!

Chapter One: Waiting for the Sun

His archnotech eye gazed through the cold window, staring out into an eternity of starlight and into the great beyond. That starlit void was breathtakingly beautiful, but it could never replace a world that humans could live upon. The eternal void of space made his heart ache for a new place to call home, and he wondered just how many more years of flight it would take, until the AI that flew this star ship would find them a new planet to live upon. It had, after all, been centuries since they left that war-torn rimworld behind. Abandoning the colony base they had painstakingly built over the years, their home, that had been a safe haven in a lawless and cruel world.

He scratched his brown beard with his right hand, his remaining flesh and blood one, as his mind again remembered the life he had lived on that distant rimworld. It seemed like an eternity ago that he, one voluntary colonist out of many, had crash-landed upon an uncharted Rimworld after flying in cryptosleep for countless decades. He counted himself damn lucky that he had survived the destruction of that colony star ship, even more-so that two other colonists had crash-landed with him upon the planet surface below. Dazed from the crash-landing and sickened from decades of cryptosleep, but alive nonetheless, one man and two women formed an alliance that day, and worked together in order to survive.

They lived new lives upon that Rimworld, far from the comforts and luxuries of the Glitterworlds and Midworlds. They sowed and harvested crops, mined rock and metal, built tools and weapons, researched technology, and slowly but surely, built a base to shelter them from a harsh and unknown world. It was brutally hard work that exhausted one to the bone, but they had each other to rely on. They had managed to build a new home for themselves. And for a time, the three of them were happy together.

But the happy and peaceful times didn't last.

It wasn't long before the first hostile raiders arrived to their base, and first blood upon the soil of their newfound home was shed. He was forced to kill with his rifle to protect his female companions, the first of many lives that would be snuffed out by his hands. They were not alone on that rimworld, and there were countless others who would happily kill them for little they did have.

He was nobody special before all of this. His past was that of a gunsmith upon an unimportant Midworld that was thrown into war, which he spent as a mechanic repairing firearms rather then serving on the front lines. But upon that rimworld with two woman depending on him to protect them, he was forced to learn how to be a leader, and keep his newfound family safe from those that would rape and kill them.

The years that followed were a constant and bloody struggle for their survival, against several enemy factions that wanted them dead. From bloodthirsty pirate raiders, savage tribesmen, rough outlanders unions, the remains of a shattered empire, giant mutant insects, to the dreaded Mechanoids.

It was only thanks to the rifle, revolver, and plasteel knife that he'd brought with him that they were able to fight back and kill for their survival. And over time, more and more people joined, and their humble colony grew into something wonderful. Some they rescued from crashed transport pods and nursed back to health, who then joined them out of gratitude. Others were wanderers, tiring of living on their own and had willing joined and settled down with them. The rest were prisoners they had captured from enemy factions, who they had shown mercy and convinced them to join their cause.

But as their colony wealth grew, so did the number of enemies they faced. Their enemies had taken notice of their growing strength and prosperity, and sent harder and harder raids to snuff of the flame of life in their colony. It was an exhausting dance of death that lasted many years, until the day finally came when they had finished researching all the technology they'd needed to leave that rimworld behind.

They had accomplished the impossible, and built a working star ship that could carry them off the rimworld. It was by no means an easy task, but thanks to the brilliance of their researchers, scientists, and engineers, along with those that had gathered the supplies they needed, they had everything they need to get the hell off of that rimworld. The last obstacle they had was starting it up, and surviving long enough for the ship reactor to charge up for takeoff.

They stripped down their base of all the supplies and valuables they had gathered over the years, and loaded up their star ship for their grand escape. Once the last of the supplies and colony animals had been loaded, the ship reactor was started up, and the countdown towards launch began. But until the ship reactor was fully powered, they had to protect their star ship until it was ready for the flight into the void. If only it was as easy as they first thought it would be...

The days that followed were a nightmare of gore and death. Their enemies, both human and mechanoid, were quick to learn about their newly built star ship, and attacked ruthlessly in nonstop raids to stop them from leaving that rimworld, and to take their ship for themselves. It was carnage that seemed endless with little rest, with more and more of their colonists perishing in the brutal battles, their base defenses and fighters just barely enough to hold back the relentless hordes.

Still, even through the horrors and desperation of those battles, the colonists never gave up hope. They would not give in and let their enemies kill them all, not when they were so close to leaving that lawless rimworld behind. So they kept on fighting. They protected their star ship and their base with a vengeance, killing all those that dared to threaten their hope of escape.

They were strong.

They kept on fighting.

And they prevailed.

And after 15 days of bloody conflict had passed, it was done.

They had held off long enough and had survived, and the ship reactor was finally charged, ready for centuries of flight in the starlit void. Battle worn and weary of all the senseless death, the surviving colonists boarded their star ship together, finally able to rest and recover in the cryptosleep caskets that waited for them. With the colony fully evacuated, and no man or woman left behind, the AI that piloted their star ship fired up the engines, lifted them off the world, flew them above and away from the colony base that laid in ruins, and carried them all away from that rimworld forever.

They had left it all behind… but he was glad that they, at least, were still alive. Their story would continue, and he could only hope that is was a story with a happy ending. That they would find an unclaimed world to settle upon, expanding the human race even further into the endless universe. Or maybe even find their way to a Midworld or Glitterworld and retire from space colonization in peace, using their hard earned riches to live the rest of their lives in luxury. He could only hope for the best, and pray that their star ship would take them to a new place to call home.

But until that day would come, they had to sleep within their cryptosleep caskets, which would keep them alive in suspended animation, sparing their bodies from aging as their colony star ship carried them through the void.

He, however, did not like the idea of sleeping until their arrived at their unknown destination, if they even survived that long in the first place. So he had his casket programmed to automatically awaken him every decade, if only so he could check on those that remained within his heart, and reassure his soul of their well being. That they were truly alive, had truly survived that hell, and were still with him. Their were many that had come with them on their escape, but those five were the ones he loved the most. They rested in their caskets right next to his, awaiting the day when they would finally wake up and find a new world before their eyes.

With a sigh, the man turned away from the window and walked back towards the interior caskets, his plasteel bionic leg clashing against the cold metal floor. With the number of bionic and archnotech parts his body had been augmented with, he felt more machine then man at times. All the colonists with him had bionic or archnotech parts of course, either to replace the missing flesh limbs or organs that were lost to the countless battles for survival over the years, or to argument and strengthen their mortal vessels beyond what a normal human body could even hope to be. Still, he was glad he still had his right hand of flesh and bone, his dominate one. As superior as bionic and archnotech parts were, he would not hack off parts of his body just to upgrade them.

He continued to walk in silence, passing by the countless cryptosleep caskets bolted to the steel floor. The caskets gave off steady and soothing hums, reassuring him that their occupants were still alive. Yet they also made guilt rise within him, as he though of all those who did not survive and come with them on their grand escape. The faces of the dead still haunted him, long after they were buried and forgotten.

He would still suffer nightmares at times, reliving the moments when friends and comrades would die before his eyes. Their lifeless eyes haunted his nightmares, silently accusing him of failing to save them. Torturous "what ifs" continued to haunt him, even now. Every single death of those he'd promised to protect weighted heavily on his soul. If he had been a better leader, and made better choices that seemed so obvious now in hindsight, would some of them still be alive?

But in the end, he knew that it was all just wishful thinking at best. You would lose people in life. You would see people die. And most of all, you couldn't save everyone. These and many other harsh truths had been shoved down his throat time and time again on that rimworld. It was tragic and unfair, but that was just how life was. He'd done all that he could to protect them, and he could do now was to honor their memories and not repeat the same mistakes that had cost them their lives.

Life upon that rimworld had changed him drastically, and he was nothing like that naive and optimistic youth he'd once been on that old midworld he was born upon. The hard times of the rimworld had made a boy into a man. A strong and pragmatic man, who did whatever he needed to do to survive and live another day, his heart hardened with steel resolve. He'd could be a ruthless killer if a situation called for it, one who wouldn't hesitate to shoot or stab someone if it meant protecting what he loved. He had learned that some enemies couldn't be reasoned with, and the only answer was violence. To kill them before they killed you or destroyed what you loved.

But even so, he couldn't help but feel that guilt from time to time. For those he'd failed to protect... and for those he'd killed. The pain and suffering of losing so many still ate away at him, even now. And he wondered when his silent suffering would come to an end.

But he would not lose his resolve and give up on life. No matter how much he suffered, he would keep on living. For himself and for those that he loved. Wallowing in self pity wouldn't bring back the dead, nor would it help those who still needed him.

And she was one of the many reasons he had to keep on living.

His placed his right hand upon the cold steel and uranium casket next to his, wondering just how much longer he would have to wait until he looked upon her face again. He could still picture her clearly in his mind, the beautiful but shy blonde haired woman, and remember the passionate love between them that had kept him sane in a lawless world.

She was one of the two female colonists that had crash landed with him upon that rimworld. Seeing her breathtaking beauty and humility, he had wasted no time in his attempts to seduce her. She was very shy and hesitant at first, but he'd slowly built trust and respect with her over time, and she'd eventually accepted his advances and they had become lovers. Sex with her had been a welcome distraction from the harsh early days of building their colony, where they were barely scraping by on food and supplies. But unlike the other romantic flings he'd had in his previous life, his relationship with her had grown into a passionate love and eventually marriage, love forged in the fires and blood of survival. She had become his best friend and wife, and the mother of his children. Their daughter also slept nearby, waiting to be awoken with her mother.

The steady green light on her casket reassured him that she was still alive, his wife was still with him, even if he couldn't see her body within the metal sarcophagi. As much as he would love to awaken her and spent time with her again, and make rough and passionate love to her again, if only for a few moments, he had decided to wait and hope that they would find a planet first. He didn't want her to experience the same feelings of emptiness as he did in this eternal moment of nothingness.

And so he opened his own casket next to hers again, pressing a series of buttons to reset it for another decade of cryptosleep. He then climbed in with practiced ease, making himself comfortable before closing it from the inside and starting it up again. As he closed his eyes and awaited cryptosleep yet again, Endrick Silvera wondered how much longer their ship would carry them through this lifeless void, until they would find a new planet, a new place to call home.


Fields painted in blood. Giants that devoured humans alive. Houses that were smashed into rubble. Corpses that laid forgotten upon the earth. Children toys in a room. A woman being picked up by a giant to be eaten.

And then the images shifted, to strange things that he'd never seen before. Metal birds that carried people through the stars above. People that had metal limbs and strange armor and weapons. Strange and wonderful things that the star people had brought and shared with the people of the walls. They fought against the Titans with them, and shared the secrets of the world and stars with them.

But then metal beings with red eyes that came down from the stars, and slaughtered the humans without mercy. The humans and titans fought back, but were overwhelmed and slain. The world burned and was destroyed, all life and hope forsaken. A metal bird flew away into the stars, leaving a doomed world behind.

You are free.

Eren Yeager awoke with a sharp gasp beneath a tree, the strange and horrific images of his dream fading from his mind. A familiar oriental girl looked down upon him, with concern on her face.

"Mikasa... hey," Eren said. The face of his foster sister was a great relief after the dream that greatly troubled his soul.

"We should get back," Mikasa said.

"Ah... where are we, exactly?" Eren asked. He looked around and saw hills with colorful wildflowers, with Wall Maria in the distance, standing strong and protecting them from the Titans.

"Try asking me again when you're awake." Mikasa stood up.

"I'm up. It's just... I don't know. It's like the dream I had went on forever." Eren rubbed his teals eyes, trying to come to terms with what he'd seen. "But it's gone now. What was it about?"

Mikasa said nothing, the stoic girl picking up the bundle of firewood she'd gathered while Eren was asleep and placing it on her back. She turned around to look at him, and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Eren... have you been crying?" Mikasa asked.

Eren touched his cheeks, and felt the tears that remained from his nightmare.

"It's nothing," Eren stubbornly said as he wiped the tears away, angry at himself for showing weakness. He gathered his own pitiful amount of firewood and returned with Mikasa back home, all the while feeling dread in his heart at the wonders and horrors of his nightmare. The titans that devoured humanity. The humans from the stars. The metal beings that hated and slaughtered humans. It wouldn't be until many years later that he remembered what he'd seen from his dream.

But by then, it would be much too late.