When Hajime Isayama’s Attack on Titan concluded in April 2021 with the final chapter of its manga serialization, it didn’t just close a story—it ignited a global conversation. What began as a tale of survival against monstrous Titans evolved into a morally complex war narrative questioning freedom, vengeance, and the cyclical nature of hatred. The finale, however, left fans divided. While some praised its bold philosophical depth, others felt betrayed by character decisions and unresolved emotional arcs. This article examines why the ending of Attack on Titan remains one of the most debated conclusions in modern anime and manga history.
The Evolution of a Story: From Survival to Ideology
In its early seasons, Attack on Titan centered on Eren Yeager’s vow to eradicate the Titans after they destroyed his hometown and devoured his mother. The premise was straightforward: humanity versus monster. But as the series progressed, the narrative peeled back layers of deception, revealing that the Titans were once humans transformed through a supernatural power tied to Eldian heritage. The true enemy shifted from mindless beasts to systemic oppression, historical manipulation, and ideological extremism.
This transformation redefined the show’s moral framework. Characters once seen as heroes became perpetrators; villains gained sympathetic backstories. By the time the Marleyan conflict emerged, the line between right and wrong had blurred entirely. The story no longer asked who deserved to live—but whether peace could exist without sacrifice, and if freedom justified mass destruction.
Eren’s Descent: Hero to Genocidal Warmonger
The central controversy lies in Eren Yeager’s transformation. Once the symbol of resistance and hope, he becomes the architect of the Rumbling—a cataclysmic event where colossal Titans march across the globe, threatening to wipe out 80% of the world’s population. His justification? To secure freedom for his people, the Eldians of Paradis Island, by preemptively destroying external threats.
This pivot shocked fans. For over a decade, viewers rooted for Eren’s liberation. His trauma, determination, and loyalty made him relatable. Yet in the final arc, he isolates himself, manipulates allies, and embraces tyranny. Even Mikasa, Armin, and the Survey Corps—his closest companions—must oppose him to stop global annihilation.
“We can’t let Eren destroy the world… even if it means killing him.” — Armin Arlert, Chapter 130
Isayama never framed Eren as purely evil. Instead, he portrayed him as a tragic figure consumed by the very cycle of hatred he sought to escape. Eren believed there was no peaceful solution—only perpetual war. His decision wasn’t born of malice but despair masked as resolve. Still, many fans struggled to reconcile this version of Eren with the boy who once said, “I want to see the ocean.”
Key Plot Twists That Shaped the Ending
The final arc introduced revelations that recontextualized nearly every major event in the series. These twists were pivotal—but also polarizing.
- The Path Network and Future Memories: Eren gained access to memories of future inheritors of the Founding Titan, including Ymir Fritz’s emotional bondage to King Fritz. This knowledge allowed him to plan events decades in advance, making his actions feel predestined rather than freely chosen.
- Ymir Fritz’s Motivation: The origin of the Titans was revealed not as divine punishment, but as the result of a young woman’s unrequited love and submission. Her subconscious desire to serve trapped all Eldians in a loop of suffering until she chose to break free—a moment that only occurred after Mikasa told her, “I love you.”
- Eren’s Manipulation of Friends: It was revealed that Eren visited Armin in the Paths multiple times, subtly guiding him toward opposing him. This raised ethical questions: Did Armin truly make his own choice, or was he part of Eren’s script?
The Role of the Paths: Fate vs. Free Will
The Paths—a metaphysical dimension connecting all Titan shifters—became the narrative’s philosophical core. Here, time is non-linear, and past, present, and future coexist. Eren used this space to manipulate outcomes, convincing viewers that his path was inevitable. Yet the ending suggests otherwise: Ymir smiles at Eren not because he succeeded, but because he was finally *seen*—by Mikasa, by Armin, by those who loved him despite everything.
This nuance separates Attack on Titan from typical shonen fare. Victory isn’t achieved through strength, but through empathy. Peace doesn’t come from conquest, but from breaking cycles of trauma.
Fan Reactions: Why the Backlash?
The manga’s ending sparked intense debate across forums, social media, and review platforms. Some common criticisms include:
| Criticism | Supporting Argument | Counterpoint |
|---|---|---|
| Eren’s character betrayal | Fans felt his genocidal turn contradicted earlier ideals. | His descent was foreshadowed (e.g., nightmare visions in Season 1). |
| Lack of closure for side characters | Characters like Jean, Connie, and Sasha received minimal resolution. | The focus remained on core themes, not individual epilogues. |
| Mikasa’s final scene reduced her agency | Her cutting Eren’s hair and visiting his grave was seen as romanticizing obsession. | It symbolized release—not possession—but interpretation varies. |
| Armin’s diplomacy feels naive | After witnessing global horror, his belief in dialogue seemed unrealistic. | It reflects the story’s message: peace requires idealism amid realism. |
A significant portion of backlash stemmed from emotional investment. Fans spent years bonding with these characters, only to see them torn apart by ideology. The tragedy wasn’t just in death, but in irreconcilable beliefs. As one Reddit user wrote: “I didn’t expect the hero to become the villain. I expected him to find another way.”
“Great stories don’t always give us what we want—they give us what we need to confront.” — Dr. Lena Torres, Pop Culture Analyst, Journal of Narrative Ethics
Mini Case Study: The Fall of a Symbol
Consider the evolution of Eren’s public image within the story. In Paradis, he was celebrated as a savior—the “Attack Titan” who defended the walls. In Marley, he was feared as a terrorist. After the Rumbling began, even former allies questioned his motives. This duality mirrors real-world figures who are labeled heroes or monsters depending on perspective.
Take the case of Falco Grice, a young Marleyan who initially idolized Zeke Yeager (Eren’s half-brother) as a liberator. After witnessing the devastation caused by the Rumbling, Falco’s admiration turns to horror. His arc illustrates how propaganda shapes perception—and how truth emerges only through personal experience. Like many readers, Falco had to reconcile belief with reality.
This layered storytelling challenges audiences to reflect: If your nation faced extinction, would you support a leader who committed atrocities to save it? Attack on Titan offers no easy answers—only consequences.
Expert Insight: The Psychology Behind the Controversy
Dr. Naomi Chen, a cultural psychologist specializing in media narratives, explains that the discomfort stems from cognitive dissonance.
“When audiences invest emotionally in a protagonist, they expect redemption or heroic sacrifice. Eren’s refusal to repent—even in death—disrupts that expectation. We’re forced to accept that some wounds don’t heal, and some people don’t change. That’s psychologically jarring.” — Dr. Naomi Chen, PhD, Media & Trauma Research Group
She adds that the ending functions as a critique of nationalist narratives. Eren embodies the danger of absolute conviction: when freedom becomes exclusionary, it morphs into tyranny. The story warns against deifying leaders—even ones we love.
What the Ending Actually Says About Freedom
At its core, Attack on Titan is about the illusion and cost of freedom. Eren spends his life chasing it—first from the Walls, then from oppression, finally from fate itself. But the finale suggests that true freedom isn’t domination or escape; it’s connection.
Ymir Fritz, bound for 2,000 years by silent devotion, gains freedom only when someone tells her she’s loved. Eren, obsessed with autonomy, dies alone—except for Mikasa’s final act of love. Armin, who values dialogue over violence, survives to negotiate peace. The message is clear: freedom without empathy is meaningless.
FAQ: Addressing Common Questions
Did Eren really have a choice?
Yes and no. While the Paths showed possible futures, Eren actively chose the path of destruction. Other versions of him considered surrender, but he rejected them. His choices were informed by trauma and fear, but they were still his.
Why did Mikasa visit Eren’s tree at the end?
The tree symbolizes memory and continuity. By placing the scarf and leaving, Mikasa honors Eren without being bound to him. It’s an act of closure, not mourning. She moves forward—something Eren could never do.
Was the war really over after the Rumbling?
Not immediately. The aftermath shows ongoing tension. However, Armin’s diplomatic mission to Marley represents a new approach: communication instead of conquest. The ending implies peace is possible—but fragile, and must be nurtured.
Step-by-Step Guide to Understanding the Final Arc
- Re-read Chapters 122–139: Focus on scenes in the Paths and the meeting between Eren, Armin, and the others.
- Analyze Eren’s monologues: Note how his language shifts from defensive (“I had to”) to resigned (“I wanted this”).
- Study Ymir Fritz’s backstory: Her silence and servitude mirror the passive acceptance of oppression.
- Compare endings across cultures: Japanese narratives often embrace tragedy and ambiguity, unlike Western preference for resolution.
- Reflect on real-world parallels: Consider historical conflicts where “freedom fighters” were seen as terrorists by others.
Conclusion: A Legacy Beyond Controversy
The controversy surrounding Attack on Titan’s ending isn’t a flaw—it’s a testament to its impact. Stories that provoke thought, challenge assumptions, and linger in the mind long after completion are rare. Whether you view Eren as a tragic antihero or a fallen villain, his journey forces introspection: How far would you go for freedom? Who gets to define peace? Can love survive in a world built on hatred?
These aren’t questions with answers. They’re invitations to dialogue. The ending may not satisfy everyone, but it fulfills the story’s purpose: to expose the cost of walls—both physical and emotional—and the courage it takes to tear them down.








浙公网安备
33010002000092号
浙B2-20120091-4
Comments
No comments yet. Why don't you start the discussion?