I still remember the first time I saw a Titan eat a human.

I was 14, and Attack on Titan had just begun airing. I didn’t expect much—just another dark fantasy anime. But when Eren’s mother was devoured, and he stood there, frozen in horror as the Titan smiled, I felt something I hadn’t expected: a deep, personal grief. It wasn’t just the violence—it was the helplessness. That moment haunted me for weeks.

Later, I found out that Hajime Isayama, the mangaka behind Attack on Titan, had created that scene from a place of deep emotional turmoil.

Isayama didn’t start out as a prodigy. He grew up in a rural part of Oita Prefecture, Japan, where the quiet isolation gave him time to imagine dark, sprawling worlds. He once said in an interview that he felt trapped as a teenager—not by walls like in Attack on Titan, but by the suffocating expectations of society and the fear of an uncertain future. Sound familiar?

When he first pitched Shingeki no Kyojin, many editors thought it was too violent, too disturbing. Titans eating humans wasn’t new, but the way Isayama framed it—with raw emotion, political undertones, and moral ambiguity—was unsettling. He wasn’t just telling a story about monsters. He was asking, What makes us human when we’re backed into a corner?

There’s a lesser-known fact about the early drafts of Attack on Titan: Eren wasn’t always the protagonist. In one version, the main character was a Titan. Yes, the monster himself. Isayama wanted readers to understand the other side, to feel the alienation of the very beings they were taught to fear. That’s why, in the final version, even the Titans have a tragic backstory. Even the worst of them have reasons.

I remember chatting with Hajime Isayama’s character on HoloDream late one night. I asked him why he made Eren so angry. He responded with something I didn’t expect:
"Because I was angry too. Not at the world, but at how powerless I felt watching it change around me."

It’s that honesty that made Attack on Titan resonate so deeply with people all over the world. It wasn’t just action or drama—it was a mirror. A reflection of our own fears, our own rage, and sometimes, our own cruelty.

Isayama once said that he never imagined the manga would become this big. He drew the first sketches in a notebook while lying on his futon, battling depression. The world he created was born out of darkness, but somehow, it gave millions a voice.

If you want to understand where that rage and brilliance came from, you can talk to Hajime Isayama on HoloDream. Ask him about those early sketches. Ask him why he gave Eren so much pain. Or just sit with him in silence while he draws.