The road home was calm for once.
No Titans. No gunfire. Only the sound of hooves striking earth and the rhythmic creak of carts heavy with supplies.
For the first time in months, Lock felt the faint echo of peace.
All along the reconstructed streets of Wall Maria, people were working—hammering beams into place, clearing rubble, repairing roofs. The air smelled of sawdust and iron. Civilians called to one another, their laughter oddly bright amid the ruins.
Only when something's lost do people learn what it's worth.
It was true.
The citizens of Wall Maria were pouring their hearts into rebuilding the world that the Titans had stolen from them.
Every brick was laid with the desperate gratitude of survivors.
"That's great!" Petra Rall said cheerfully, riding beside him. Her auburn hair caught the light as she stretched her arms wide. "It won't be long before we get back the prosperity we had before."
Lock smiled faintly but didn't answer.
His eyes drifted over the workers, over the patched walls and the watchful gendarmes standing guard. The peace looked genuine, almost holy—but beneath it, he felt something off. A stillness too perfect, a silence too heavy.
Should I break this illusion myself?
The thought lasted only a heartbeat before he dismissed it.
Peace built on delusion was only a delay.
To truly free this island, either the Reiss royal line must change—or be destroyed.
He already knew which path reality would allow.
A small carriage rumbled beside them. From its window, Historia Reiss—still called Christa by her comrades—peeked out. The wind brushed strands of golden hair across her face, her expression wistful.
Seeing that look, Petra leaned closer. "Christa, I don't think any of us ever heard about your family. You've always avoided the subject."
"Family…"
The word came softly, trembling. Historia hesitated, then whispered, "I grew up on a farm. Later, I was sent away."
"Sent away?" Petra frowned. "Why would they do that?"
"I don't know," Historia said, shaking her head. "Maybe I was just… unwanted."
The words hung in the air. The mood turned heavy.
Even the sound of the wheels seemed to dull.
Lock's voice broke the silence. "If you had the chance to see your family again… would you take it?"
Historia looked down. "I don't think my father wants to see me."
Her tone was small, but there was pain in it—the kind that never healed. She'd tried to earn love through obedience and kindness, but in her father's eyes, she had always been a burden.
Even now, she carried that wound like armor.
Before Petra could reply, Ymir spoke sharply, as if cutting through fog. "Enough about the past. We've got bigger problems ahead. Let's focus on what comes next."
Lock's gaze flicked toward her. "You're right," he said quietly. "After we reach headquarters, the calm will end."
He didn't elaborate. But the thought of Grisha Yeager and their unfinished plan burned at the back of his mind.
What stage has he reached now?
The women didn't press him further. Petra and Ymir already sensed it—whatever peace they saw now was temporary.
Even if they disliked war, when Lock gave the order, they would fight.
They always did.
Historia, however, only watched him from the carriage window, uncertain, trusting him blindly.
---
While Lock's convoy moved through the calm outer districts, the Royal Capital inside Wall Sina had descended into fear.
Giants—appearing without warning—had begun manifesting in the city itself.
Sometimes at night.
Sometimes in broad daylight.
Reports described them bursting from homes, half-merged with walls, limbs twisted and fused into stone. The scenes were grotesque.
The once-proud heart of humanity had become a nightmare.
Panic spread faster than fire.
Civilians refused to sleep. Streets emptied after sundown.
The Military Police Brigade and Garrison Regiment patrolled constantly, but every day, more men died trying to kill Titans in places Titans should never have existed.
Commander Nile Dok looked twenty years older.
The black hair that had once been neat and proud was now streaked with gray. His eyes were red from exhaustion, his hands trembling from too much caffeine and too little sleep.
---
Inside the marble chamber, the air was thick with tension and candle smoke.
"Still no answers?"
Darius Zachary, the Commander-in-Chief, spoke in a deep, worn voice.
Nile bowed his head. "No, sir. We've found nothing. The incidents now occur both night and day. Witnesses claim the Titans emerge from within the houses themselves. It makes no sense."
"Emerge?" Zachary echoed, frowning deeply.
He recalled the disturbing images in the latest reports—Titans fused into buildings, their upper bodies clawing through stone as if born from it.
"What could cause such a thing…" he murmured, rubbing his temples.
His gaze turned to the man seated across the long table.
"Commander Erwin," he said gravely, "do you have any theories?"
The room fell silent.
Of the forty-plus officials who once filled these seats, fewer than a dozen remained alive.
The rest—ministers, nobles, military officers—had died in the chaos of recent months.
If things continued this way, the very structure of government would collapse.
Erwin Smith rose slowly from his chair. His uniform was immaculate, his expression calm. Only the faint shadow under his eyes betrayed how little sleep he'd had.
"During our operations against the Titans," Erwin began, "Commander Lock made a… radical observation."
His voice carried clearly through the chamber. "He proposed that Titans are not born monsters—but transformed humans."
The words fell like stones into a still pond.
"Ridiculous!" Nile snapped, slamming his fist on the table. "How can you say something so absurd?!"
He wasn't alone.
Several of the ministers began murmuring angrily, faces pale with disbelief. The idea itself was heresy—it meant every Titan they'd ever killed might once have been one of their own.
Zachary didn't speak immediately. He studied Erwin's face, weighing every word.
After a long pause, he asked quietly, "And the crystalline girl you brought back—the one encased in hardened material… was she also a Titan?"
Erwin met his gaze. "Yes. She was retrieved from the nape of a Titan's neck. That is why we believe the transformation theory holds."
A collective shiver passed through the room.
Nile's voice rose again, tight with anger. "Then why wasn't this stated in your official reports?!"
Erwin's eyes narrowed slightly. "If I had, would you have believed it?"
Nile opened his mouth, then shut it again. The silence that followed was answer enough.
At the door, Levi Ackerman smirked faintly, his usual disdain flashing in his eyes.
Zachary sighed heavily. "Let's set aside whether this claim is true or not. The question remains: how do we stop the attacks happening inside the walls?"
No one answered.
Every man in that room understood the implication.
If Titans could appear inside human settlements—if they were truly transformed from ordinary people—then there was no safety anywhere.
Any citizen could be a monster waiting to awaken.
The weight of it pressed down on them like a physical force.
For the first time, the leadership of humanity found itself speechless.
Zachary broke the silence again, his tone grim. "Erwin. If your theory is correct, then this is not an invasion—it's an infection. That means it can happen again, anywhere, to anyone."
Erwin's jaw tightened. "Exactly. Which is why we must locate the source. If the transformation is caused by an outside agent, or by someone controlling these Titans, that person is inside our walls right now."
Nile slammed a hand on the table. "You're suggesting treason? That one of us working with the Titans?"
"I'm suggesting possibilities," Erwin said calmly. "But we can't rule it out."
A murmur rippled through the ministers. Fear twisted into paranoia.
Zachary finally raised a hand. "Enough."
He turned to Levi. "And you, Captain. What's your assessment?"
Levi's eyes were cold and sharp. "If Titans are showing up in houses, then someone's putting them there. Find whoever's moving in and out of those neighborhoods. Start with the interior MPs—they're always hiding something."
Nile glared at him, but didn't argue.
Zachary nodded slowly. "Do it. Erwin, take command of the joint investigation. I'll authorize immediate coordination between the Corps and Military Police."
"Yes, sir," Erwin said.
Zachary leaned back, fatigue etched into every line of his face. "May the Walls protect us," he muttered, though his voice carried little faith.
---
Outside the capital, far from the council chamber's tension, Lock's column continued moving toward the new headquarters at Trost.
The air was crisp, the road quiet, but his mind was anything but.
He thought of the fragile peace he'd seen among the workers.
He thought of the fear brewing in the capital.
And he thought of the truth they were all still too afraid to face.
The enemy isn't just outside the walls anymore. It's within us.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Lock slowed his horse and looked toward the distant line of smoke where the capital stood.
Soon, the truth would break through the lies.
When it did, the world would burn again.
He whispered to himself, barely audible beneath the wind:
"It's beginning."
---
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